Hannah's bags, four of them, and a box still sat exactly where they were when he left for the gym, untouched. He closed the door softly and went through the routine of hanging his keys and putting his gun in the safe.

"I'm back." He announced himself. He could hear Hannah, hear her angry typing in the other room. Angry typing was something Bones had introduced him to. Loud, banging, fast paced, a warning to give her time and at least a little space to work through whatever was upsetting her. Admittedly, he didn't know what it meant when Hannah engaged in angry typing, but he was pretty sure he was about to find out.

"You forgot your phone." He realized that he'd forgotten it when he was done at the range. He wanted to text Bones, make sure she was okay, apologize or something to make it right with her, he hadn't figured that out. "Someone's been trying to reach you." Her sharp tone was biting. He walked around the pile of luggage to get to his phone. Before he unlocked the screen and checked the messages, he stopped and looked at Hannah curled up in the corner of his couch, her laptop on her lap. The typing had stopped.

"I'm sorry." He rolled his lips, fidgeting a bit more than normal. "I shouldn't have just left you here like that." She let his apology hang in the air until it was uncomfortable, awkward for both of them.

"Well." Pulling herself from the couch, her movements calculated and smooth, she took the phone from his hand and set it back on the coffee table. "You could always make it up to me, soldier." She moved his arms, his hands, so they wrapped around her body. His tension and avoidance painfully obvious.

"Hannah, I can't, not tonight." Certainly not until he got this whole mess sorted out, it wouldn't be fair to her.

"Really, because I think it's exactly what you need. Like when we were in Afghanistan, just a little stress reliever, relax, just be in our own little world. Just us and a certain fig tree." She giggled as she lay soft kisses on his neck and arms. She even started pulling at his t-shirt, but he didn't move, didn't relax, didn't engage.

As he started to pull away from her touch, as he bristled under her kisses, she got more and more frustrated and angry. She looked up to see his eyes closed, not with passion, not in irresistible reaction to her touch, closed as if he were fiercely defying every move she made. Letting her arms fall to her side, she plopped back down on the couch.

"Do you want to talk about this? Whatever's bothering you, we can talk about it." He just shook his head, no. "What do you want to do then, Seeley? What's the answer?"

"Just sleep, I just need some sleep. I promise we'll talk about it tomorrow." He opened his eyes and stared straight into hers. "I promise tomorrow morning, but tonight I just need to sleep." Rolling her eyes in frustration, she folded her arms over her chest. Grimacing when he grabbed his phone and turned to head towards the bedroom.

"It's Temperance, isn't it?" He stopped, but didn't turn around. "I think you may have understated your relationship with her when you said the two of you were solid. Seems to me you're way more than solid, Seeley."

"Hannah." Shoulders slumped, body coursing with tension, he didn't want to have this conversation now. It was nearly midnight, he was exhausted, no matter how hard he tried, he was sure he wouldn't be able to explain this in a way that would make sense to her. His ah-ha moment was still in process, he needed to think all the way through it, decide, be sure of himself before he acted. It wasn't fair to ask her to wait, to just be left hanging until he'd worked all the way through it, but he couldn't do this any other way. He started to walk away again, but was caught mid-step by her piercing words.

"The hottest platonic love affair ever, that's what Angela told me. She warned me. She said that you didn't know how much you loved Temperance and that Temperance didn't know how much she loved you and that I was stepping in the middle of a 'hot mess' that was only going to get worse." He hung his head. Damn Angela, never could keep her nose out of anything or her mouth shut. "She compared me to gasoline being poured on your fire. Not ours, not me and you, your fire, your flame for Temperance."

"We'll talk about it tomorrow, Hannah." He left the room. "I promise."

She did not want to wait until tomorrow, she wanted to have it out now. She wanted him to deny what Angela said. Wanted him to reassure her that accepting an assignment stateside, in the capitol, a bland, boring, assignment, wasn't a mistake. She wanted their passionate, fun, simple relationship back and she didn't want to wait for tomorrow.

"Do I need to get a hotel room?" She hollered after him.

"No." He answered from the bedroom.

He stripped and changed into baggy sweat pants then slid under the covers. Worried about Bones, he tried to think of the right thing to say. If he said he was sorry, it would be a lie. Having her close, he needed that more than he could admit right now. If he said he shouldn't have, she'd might take it wrong, probably would take it wrong. He didn't want her to think he regretted being close to her. It was horrible,he felt bad for hurting her, he'd obviously made it harder and he knew he should feel bad for the closeness, for the desires he didn't act on, but he didn't, couldn't.

The messages had been from her, several of them, all basically asking if he was okay. He worried her. He answered the only way he knew how to tonight.

I'll be fine

It wasn't long before she responded.

I find little comfort or relief in your answer though I believe that was your intent. Clearly, it indicates you are currently not fine, which I find concerns me

It made him smile, even laugh just a little. It was her, so very, very her. Honest, upfront, caring, he didn't know how she couldn't see what a big tender heart she had. It was the first real relief he'd felt all night. Affirmation that the decisions he made at the shooting range were the right ones.

Thanks, Bones. You are too good to me.

The woman that told him she didn't have an open heart, that she couldn't be with him because she would end up hurting him, was the best woman he knew. He wished she could see it. He wished he could tell her, show her. They went back and forth for a few minutes, then called it a night. He sunk into his pillows and begged sleep to take him away.

He barely stirred when Hannah came to bed. She tried to snuggle up to him, but even in sleep he was agitated and restless. Tossing and turning he mumbled, sometimes he even sounded like he was begging or pleading. She couldn't make it out clearly, but her overly sensitive mind was sure he called out for Temperance.

He did.

His dreams were torture, the universe or God playing with him. Over and over again, he dreamt of the women in his life, bits and pieces, one memory at a time, real memories, until whoever that woman was turned into Bones. Tessa, Rebecca, Katherine, going all the way back to high school and his daring nights under the bleachers with nothing but a cheerleader and a sleeping bag. And then Hannah, of course, Hannah, too, in the throes of passion under the fig tree they'd first made love under. In that moment of intimacy, when they were the closest, as he kissed and caressed and loved each of these women, he'd pull back just to see them, and it was Bones, every time, it was Bones.

Seething with frustration and anger, she lay next to him in bed, a bed that was supposed to be theirs. In the storm of hurt and betrayal, she decided to test out her theory on their relationship troubles for herself. Slipping down under the covers she pulled herself next to Booth, cradling him from behind. Running her hand smoothly along his hip, she worked her way under the waistband of his boxers, lower and lower, until she felt him reacting instinctively to her touch. Before he could wake all the way, she put her lips to his ear and whispered.

"Booth."

She never called him Booth, she called him her soldier, called him Seeley, but never Booth. Before she could even take a breath, he'd flipped her and tucked her underneath him, letting his hands wander as his kisses grazed her neck. Something was off, he felt it, just like in his dreams. In those couple of seconds that passed, he sought answers, calling out to the woman he thought lay beneath him.

"Bones." It came out tender, a hopeful reaching, yearning for it to be real.

What happened next was lost in that state between deep sleep and wakefulness. He'd called out for Bones as he simultaneously opened his eyes to a sea of blond curls, swallowed up, drowning. It felt like his heart flipped, slamming against his chest as she struggled beneath him, fighting to get away. Punching, hitting, clawing, it took a minute to set reality straight. He rolled off of her and jerked his body from his bed. Leaning over, his hand on his knees for support he gasped for breath, strangled by what had just happened. Hannah stood on the other side of the bed, watching, shaking in complete disbelief. She'd caused it, she knew that, and she'd done it on purpose, baited him, but that, that which had just happened, wasn't even on her list of possible outcomes.

"I can't stay here." Tears streamed down her face. "I can't stay with you."

He didn't argue.

"I, I was going to talk to you about it tomorrow."

"Well, I think it's pretty clear we needed to talk about it tonight."

"I just needed some sleep." Straightening up, he rubbed his face vigorously. "I'm sorry, Hannah, this is all me, all my fault." Turning to her for the first time, really trying to connect with her, he tried to explain. "I thought I was over her, thought I'd moved on but, God, I still love her."

"Oh." Booth walked around to where Hannah stood and sat on the bed. "She's the girl you loved, the one that broke your heart." It all connected now, her suspicions confirmed. "But you said you never had that kind of relationship with Temperance." She stared down at him as he sat on the bed. The tension between them finally finding its voice, a release, no longer pent up and overflowing.

"I wasn't lying." He wanted to be clear on that, wanted her to know that he hadn't expected all of this. "We've never been more than partners and friends, best friends, never a relationship beyond that. I thought, I just thought I was over her, you know? Thought I could move on, find someone else, b-"

"Me."

"You." He sat slumped over himself, elbows on his knees, head resting in his hands.

"The hottest platonic love affair ever." She repeated Angela's words, the ones she'd thrown at him earlier. This time, there was a sense of resignation in her voice. Angela, so nosey and so aggravatingly right.

He started to apologize for her lost position, the sacrifices that she was been willing to make to try and be together, for hurting her. She stopped him, it was unnecessary to rehash it. Besides, she confessed, she'd already contacted her producer about getting her position back, something he didn't think would be an issue at all. Admittedly, that had been angry typing. Now she just wanted to leave, get away from it all, get away from him. She called a taxi, got dressed, made hotel arrangements from the living room while he got some jeans and a t-shirt on so he could help her with her bags.

Dressed, he sat back down on the bed staring at his feet as he tried to gather his thoughts. His heart ached. It ached for Hannah, for what he'd subjected her to. It ached for Bones, for what he wanted, what he wasn't sure he'd ever have with her. Though he'd seen her pain at the sight of him with another woman and she'd told him she loved him, she never said outright that she would take a chance on him. He could be giving up something he had for something he wanted that may never happen, he knew that. He also knew he couldn't be with another woman while he felt so completely in love with Bones. Somehow, in these few short weeks, he'd managed to make everyone's life miserable. At the moment, he couldn't shake the dreams of Bones or the horror of realizing he had been towering over Hannah.

The buzz of his cell phone interrupted his thoughts as he tried to process everything that had happened, that was happening. It was Bones.

I find I can't sleep. Are you fine yet?

He flopped back on the bed, eyes darting over the screen, he didn't know what to say. Bones loved the truth, and he didn't have the energy for pretense, so he went with the truth.

No

She felt a franticness rise up within her when she got his answer. No, he wasn't okay. Her heart pounded.

Where are you?

He answered back quickly.

Home - Hannah's leaving

Dropping the phone on the bed, he took a deep breath, time to face the music. He went out to haul her luggage downstairs and wait for the cab with Hannah. Four bags, one messenger, one carry on, one duffle, one suitcase, and a box. All stacked back by the curb. Booth blew into his folded hands to keep them warm and to avoid conversation. He didn't know what to say. Pointing out the cab as it rounded the corner, he started grabbing bags up into his arms.

"Stop." Hannah commanded him.

Startled, he stopped. His mind raced as he tried to figure out what she meant by stop. Had she changed her mind, because if she did, he would have to tell her that is was over. That wasn't her confession.

"I, Seeley, I need to tell you something." The cab pulled up to the curb and the tired driver stumbled out. Booth froze, not sure that he could take more thing tonight. "Tonight, what happened, that was me, it was my fault." He looked confused. "I called you Booth. I did it to see what you'd do." As he tried to make sense of what she was saying, he felt flattened by a wave hurt and betrayal. Before he could answer, her belongings were loaded and she was ready to leave. Raising up on her tip-toes and kissed him on the cheek. "I loved you, Seeley, if things don't work with Temperance…" She let her voice drift off as she ducked in the cab. "See you later, soldier." Smiling, she winked as she closed the door and the cab drove away. He stood and watched until she rounded the corner.

Back in his apartment, he found himself slumped on the couch trying to catch up with the day. Rubbing his hands over his face, feeling the rough stubble on his palms as they ran back and forth, trying to breath. He didn't hear her when she came in, when she closed the door and walked softly into his living room. He didn't realize she was there until she came to rest beside him on the couch where they sat quietly looking straight ahead into the darkness of his apartment, just him and his Bones. Reaching out into that darkness, she grabbed his hand and squeezed it.

Her voice broke the silence, soft and sure. "Do you need time and space?"

"No." He answered softly as his head came to rest on her shoulder. "I need you."

ooooo0ooooo

A/N I feel sort of spun about by the whirlwind of this story which has left me a bit wordless at the end of this chapter...but I wanted to say thank you for the tremendous response to this story and all the support and encouragement - I feel very humbled by it all. Rest assured there's at least one more chapter :)