DISCLAIMER- In no way does Bones belong to me, except for when it hits 8.30pm Monday's. Then it appears in my living room for an hour, and I kind of borrow it a little.

Author's Note- Spoilers for The Boneless Bride in the River below. Proceed with caution.

Temperance Brennan awoke, after fourteen hours of much needed sleep, to a knock on her bedroom door.

Still half immersed in her dream, she called out, annoyed.

"Just come in, Booth, it's unlocked."

And then jerked fully awake, at a very un-Booth-like male chuckle coming from behind her door.

She reached very slowly under her bed for Onetwo, her trusty baseball bat, christened by Angela when she'd mentioned giving an intruder "the old one two punch."

"Honey, if you're looking for the bat I took the liberty of removing it the last time it was here. First place criminals look- you don't want one surprising you with it if you walk in while he's still here."

She groaned, and buried her face in her pillow.

That was it. She was moving. Tomorrow.

"You stole my bat?"

"What?"

She removed her face from the pillow.

"You stole my bat?"

Her father's head poked around the door.

"Relocated, honey. I didn't steal it."

She glared at him while yanking her robe on over her pyjamas, wishing she'd installed the lock she'd rejected from Booth out of pure perverseness, after he'd made the point of telling her that of course, he could still get around it.

"Then where is it?" She spoke through gritted teeth.

He winked at her.

"I'll probably tell you after you've had a coffee."

He was far too cheery for an aging criminal on the run, she decided, trying to wake up enough to focus on kicking him out.

"What are you doing here?"

He raised a brow at her. "Well, Agent Booth suggested you might be up for a visit sometime today. He neglected to mention you'd be asleep when I showed up."

"Booth had five hours sleep when I drove back from our case upstate. I, obviously, didn't." She snapped, in no mood to be charitable and mention Booth had driven her to the case. In the rain. With one of her CD's he hated playing and her muttering over her notes, among other things…for five hours straight.

Feeling slightly guilty, she glanced at her father, then pointed to her kitchen.

"Do you want something to eat, or…"

He held up a hand. "No. No, I'm fine, thanks sweetie. However, I would like to know what has happened to you that was so bad Agent Booth felt he couldn't handle it on his own."
She hesitated in the act of grabbing the milk from her fridge.

"That makes me sound like I'm constantly acting out. Booth doesn't have to handle me all the time, you know. I can do just fine without him. I can do just fine without anyone."

She put the milk next to the jug slightly harder than was necessary and turned to face her father, who was leaning on her door frame watching her.

He took a breath, then looked at her…oddly.

Like he knew her, knew what she was thinking. Similar to, but not quite the same way Booth did, sometimes.

"I think Booth was just looking out for you."

"Well, I don't want him to. I don't want him to think that I'm so caught up in someone else I can't focus on things, that I can't work with him. Because I can!" She glared at her father, then snatched up the jug, hissing when the water slashed out of the spout, burning her wrist.

"Damnit!"

"Let me see." A gentle hand took her arm, turning it carefully.

Her Dad turned on her tap, checking the temperature, then brought her wrist under the water.

"Leave it there for a few minutes."

His hand left her arm, to swipe carefully under her eyes.
She stiffened. "I'm not crying."

He smiled at her. "I know. Just had a smudge."

He leant back against her counter, giving her space. "So what happened?"

She sighed. "I had a…relationship, with someone. A few months back. He was kind, and he listened. And he looked at me…like he knew me."

She met her father's gaze.

"Not many people look at me and see who I am. Sully did, and I- I suppose I formed an attachment."

"Was he cute?"

She frowned at him, perplexed. "Why is that the first question you ask?"

He Dad shrugged. "Well, obviously this Sully has good taste. Just wanted to make sure that you do, as well. Plus, it would go some way to explaining the 'attachment'."

She shook her head. "Yes, he was very good looking. But I went out with him because he was intriguing, and funny, and…he loves life. Sully loves life. I suppose I wanted to be with someone who sees the world for its possibilities."
"As opposed to someone who doesn't?" Her father inquired."

She watched the water flowing over her arm. "As opposed to someone who's different to Sully, in a lot of ways."

"Different bad, or different good?

She gave a slight shrug. "Just…different. But this is a hypothetical line of questioning." She pointed out.

"Of course it is."

She kept her gaze on the faucet. "So, Sully went away on a boat to the Caribbean. He rang me last night from port. Wanted to know how I..." She took a breath. "How I felt about him coming back."

Her father nodded. "I can see how that would be upsetting."

She looked at him. "But that's just it. I shouldn't be upset! I should be overjoyed that this man who I have this great connection with is coming back, to be with me! I should be happy that I'll have someone to share things with, and laugh, and…talk."

Her father was quiet, watching her.

Then, "What did you do after Sully left?"

She half laughed, lost in memories.

She'd gone looking for meaning, after he left. There was a picture in her lab, that day, of a couple that had never met. Angela had joined them on paper, giving them closure. Closing the case. That was what the people she worked with did- they took events, circumstance, evidence, and gave them a name, a voice. Meaning.

"I had breakfast with Booth, that day. And after…" She shook herself, carefully drawing her arm from underneath the flow of water.

"Angela says Booth worries that he somehow kept me from something, because I refused to go with Sully. But this work…working with him…it's not rational, working so long, so hard, with such messy deaths. But it's right."

Her father passed her a tea towel. "Maybe the reason you're upset is because your heart is telling you something. Rationally, Sully is right for you. But when you look at him, that connection you speak of, the one that's so strong, so right? You have to believe it's there, even when he's thousands of miles away. You have to feel it in your gut."

She rolled her eyes. "Another person that believes in the power of the gut."

"Let me guess. Agent Booth has an affinity for instinct?"

"Yes."

"Ah."

She was quiet for a moment.

"Go with my gut? With Sully, I mean. I should go with my gut?"

"It's always worked for me. I think Agent Booth would agree."

"I'm not going to ask him." She said quickly, crossing to her table and pulling out a chair to sit.

Her father remained standing. "You don't want Agent Booth's opinion?"

"No, I just…I don't want him to worry about me. I don't want him to think I'm not one hundred percent here, with him."

"From what I've seen of Agent Booth, I think he'd understand."

She nodded. "Yes. But then he'd-he does this thing where he says 'I understand, Bones', and looks at me all smiley and happy. But I can tell that he goes somewhere, away from me, for a while." She looked at her Dad, and shrugged.

"I don't like it."

Her Dad nodded.

"Sometimes, when people are close, it doesn't matter that everything that passes between them isn't always perfect. It's the partnership that matters, and when the effort is made to close someone out, even if it's out of concern for that person…the whole foundation suffers, do you understand?"

She frowned. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Her father sighed. "You have to give Agent Booth both the good and the bad, sweetie. You'd do the same for him, right?"
She smiled, thinking of a sunny afternoon in a cemetery, a couple of years ago. Of talking for hours with Booth of violence and horror, and finally, hope.

"I would. It does make sense. He takes both from me, and I take both from him. It's symmetrical."

"That's right." He nodded to her arm. "Good as new?"

She smiled at him. "Good as new. Thanks."

"Any time. Well, I'd better get going. And, uh…I'll call next time, huh?"

"That would be advisable."

He chuckled. "I'll see you around, Temperance."

"I'll see you, Dad."

She shook her head as the door closed, then whacked her forehead with her hand.

"Damnit!"

She crossed to her phone, scribbling a note on the message pad.

"Ask-about-Onetwo." She muttered, putting three exclamations after the sentence.

Then underlined it, for good measure.

Tapping the pen on the pad, she idly considered going back to bed, then jumped as her phone rang.

She glanced at the caller ID and rolled her eyes.

"My father has once again broken into my home, Booth. Because of you."

Booth ignored this. "Good chat?"

She blinked. "Well…yes. But that is not the point-"

"-So, Bones. I was thinking that this whole you driving me back from cases is really working out. Should make it a permanent thing, huh?"

Her jaw dropped. "I don't think so, Booth. I got no sleep the entire time, and if you had let me-"

"-Well, you had to do something other than gaze out the window and brood."

"I do not brood."

A muffled snort came down the phone line. "Babe, you're the definition of brooding."

She frowned. "Temperance does not mean 'to brood'."

"Not when she's having a beer with me, it doesn't. See you in fifteen?"

"Booth, it's eleven o clock in the morning."

"So?"

"So, it's not the time one traditionally indulges in alcohol."

"Bones. Do you want to see me now or not, huh?"

She wrinkled her nose. "Yes."

"So, it's eleven o clock in the morning. Big deal. Now, do not pull out that Moroccan crap, I'll bring the supplies. And hey, did you just get up? Your voice is all husky. Sexy."

She blinked, a half smile curving her mouth. "What?"

Pause. "Uh, I said did you just get up?"

She looked down.

Oh, crap. Pyjamas.

"Uh. No. I've been up awhile." Like seventeen minutes.

"Huh. Okay. Well, see you soon. Turn on that pitiful excuse for a TV you got, we'll find a game or something."

"Okay."

She disconnected.

Then hurried to the bedroom in search of clothes, ruminating idly on tonal differences and at what pitch voices became sexually attractive.

Fifteen minutes later, she opened her door to Booth, carrying beer and various potato chip packages.

He grinned at her, holding up the box of beer.

"So, Bones, you realise it's eleven fifteen in the morning."

She just stared at him, ready to kick him in places it was not healthy for a man to be kicked.

Then he winked, brushing past her.

"So, I brought munchies. Barbeque or salt and vinegar?"

She just shook her head as she closed the door, unable to stop the grin spreading across her face as she turned to watch him make himself at home in her apartment, opening her fridge, swiping a can of coke from the door.

"Bones? Decide. What do you want?"

She decided. "Both."

He grinned at her.

"Both it is."

Author's Note- Hope you enjoyed this! Have a fantastic week, guys, and muchos gracias a million and twelve for all reads and all reviews- they always put a huge smile on my dial for extremely large amounts of time. XD