A/N: There are so many other things that I should be doing right now but to be honest, three weeks without any new Bones episodes is just way too long so I'm filling the gaping void with as much angst and fluff as I can manage... Please please please let me know what you think. Reviews feed my soul! Feed me, dammit, FEEEEEEEEEEEEED MEEEEEEEE!

Thank you as ever to Ava for, well, just being Ava. Oh, and to Goldpiece for teaching me slang I'm too stupid to understand on my own...

"People everywhere, how could I be sure
If it's you that I have been looking for?
What would it take for me to be comfortable
With you, with me?"

- 'Caught In The Sun', Course of Nature

oo00oo

It had been hours since Angela had left her apartment but Temperance Brennan still hadn't moved from the couch. The room now cloaked in darkness, she was curled up on the sofa, lost in her own world, doubt beginning to encroach on what had previously seemed so certain, so simple.

She was trying to rationalise her feelings, trying to distance herself from the conversations she had with both Angela and Booth. She needed to find some logic, some scientific reasoning behind the aching in her chest and the churning in her gut.

I'm scared. I'm scared that once Booth has gone, he's never coming back. I've seen what war does. I've stood over the bodies and bones of countless victims. That can't happen to him, I don't want it to. He can't be just another victim, just another name on a casualty list.

Running a tired hand across her face, she felt her stomach lurch at the images her mind dredged up. The results of ethnic cleansing, the piles of bodies in ditches, the results of the death squads in South America, the corpses intertwined and tangled together in endless discarded heaps…

That can't happen to Booth. I won't let it.

Clambering to her feet, she wandered into the kitchen as she tried to shake the sight of all those victims from her mind.

And how exactly are you going to stop it, Temperance? What can you possibly do?

She extended a shaking hand, picking a glass off the draining board and pouring herself some water. Taking little sips, she sighed heavily.

Angela told you to tell him how you feel, to tell him that you love him.

Clutching the glass to her chest, she padded down the hall and in to her bedroom, perching on the chair by her dressing table. Staring into the mirror, the moonlight from outside gave her a ghostly reflection, pale and distant.

That's exactly what I am… I'm distant. I don't let people in, don't let them get too close, for fear of what might happen. For fear of what I'll feel when they leave. They always leave. Every single one of them. Mom, Dad, Russ, David… Love never features into the equation. I don't let it. Relationships, sex, it's all just recreational. There's never been any real connection. What I have with Booth… I can't lose that, I can't risk it.

Practically slamming the glass on to the table, Brennan began to pace, the repetitive movement soothing her tormented mind.

Do I love him? By Angela's criteria - the butterflies in my stomach, missing him when he's not there, the desire to be with him every minute of everyday - then maybe… Maybe she's right. Maybe…

Changing into an old pair of comfortable pyjamas, Brennan collapsed on to the bed and stared up at the ceiling, watching the shadows dance above her as moonlight filtered through the swaying boughs outside.

He's always been there for me, he's always forced me to confront my fears and feelings. I respect him, I honour him, I miss him…

She raised her hands to her face, attempting to shield her mind from the thoughts that kept invading.

Maybe I do love him, maybe all this uncertainty is just due to the unfamiliarity of such an emotion. Maybe he even feels the same way… But what if he does? It won't make any difference. It won't stop him from going to war, it won't protect him. Maybe all it will do is hurt. Hurt him and hurt me. I can't be hurt again, I won't put myself through it. Losing him… Losing him would kill me.

She curled up on the bed as she dragged the covers over herself, pulling her knees up to her chest in the foetal position, trying to find some comfort, some solace. Staring at the clock on her bedside table, she found nothing but anxiety and fear. Cold, hard, clammy fear.

I can't let him go without at least trying to explain. I can't let him go without at least attempting to make him understand, even if I don't understand it myself. He has to know that I… that I… that I love him. I, Doctor Temperance Brennan, am in love with Special Agent Seeley Booth.

Her mind began to calm, her eyelids started to droop. As the shadows swayed her towards sleep, one simple word escaped her lips, one simple word that said everything she could ever hope to say.

"Seeley…"