Created April 2013 - I don't own these characters as made famous by the TV show, Bones. Love them anyway. All the rest that follows is my feeble attempt to keep time in between broadcasts and Razztaztic and Threesquares postings.


Angela fanned herself. Aroused from Brennan's recount of her morning activities.

"Oh Honey, that is so hot. And so WRONG! That man has been waiting to go down on you for years and he barely gets past the sampling station. Let me tell you something, once this case is over, if you don't take off to some phone-free, crime-free, distraction-free destination and fuck like bunnies uninterrupted…well, I don't think I'll ever be able to respect you again." She laughed at her own threat to her best friend.

Brennan smiled, and Angela continued. "You know what? You had a terrific morning by all accounts. But I didn't hear any 'I love you's' exchanged. Did you guys actually say the words?"


Once dressed and out of the shower (it took her 10 minutes to Booth's :30) Dr. Brennan rejoined Booth and the FBI team in the living room. Quickly she ate the breakfast that Booth had prepared and exchanged email communications with various interns to inform them of Vincent's death while listening to the logistics associated with their AM transport.

They knew that Broadsky thought Booth was dead, and they wanted to retain that assumption for as long as was required for the Jeffersonian team & FBI to locate and apprehend him. The AM transport was intended to illustrate that Booth's vehicle was being towed from the Jeffersonian as well as to get Brennan safely from Booth's apartment to the Jeffersonian without raising attention to her arrival.

Brennan had protested staying at Booth's apartment the night before, reminding him that Broadsky had already broken in, and therefore how safe could the location be? Booth allayed her concerns with the argument that it would therefore be the last place that he would look for her specifically, and any disruption to her routine would keep her safer, especially knowing that Broadsky may have eyes on her.

They left at 9:20.

The first car with Booth and Brennan left Booth's apartment under the cover of the loading dock garage. Arriving at the Jeffersonian, the team dropped the two off to where Booth had parked his vehicle in the parking garage, where a towing crew awaited Booth's arrival.

Overnight, a team of specialists had outfitted his truck with bulletproof protection. For the safety of his transport over to the Hoover building, Booth's truck was being towed from the parking garage. While the driver from the transport vehicle assisted the towing operator, Brennan muttered how inefficient the FBI team had been by not having the vehicle on the towing platform upon their arrival as she glared at the team.

Booth looked at her. Brennan had become more agitated as the morning had worn on. He knew her signals, and he knew that she was transferring her annoyance to the team to avoid what was really bothering her. He pulled her to the passenger side of the transport vehicle.

"What's wrong Bones?"

Brennan fidgeted, attempting to look anywhere but at Booth as she tried to withhold a new round of tears from being shed. "I don't understand why you won't let me come with you, Booth. I'm your partner. Let me be your partner."

He had been waiting for this protest to come. Of course he knew how capable Bones was in the field and he considered himself lucky for him to have her back in the field. But the risk with Broadsky was too high. Very rarely did he feel the need to tell her no, so when he did, he knew she would respect his request.

"Bones, I'll need you to push the Squints to locate Broadsky. We have a limited window to work with before Broadsky realizes that I'm not dead and I need the best working on locating him, and you're the best, right?" He cupped her face in his hands, pleading with his eyes. "Baby, I always want you in the field with me, but I need to focus 110 percent today. I won't be able to do that if I'm worrying about you. Please. Stay. In. The. Lab."

He brushed her bottom lip with his thumb, pained by her tears. Silently she nodded, then added on a breath "I just hate not being there if you're in danger…." She pressed her chest and hips further into him, tightening her grip around his waist. She whimpered into his ear, her head on his shoulder. "What if we don't have time, Booth? What if this is it for us? Broadsky could come after me, or realize that you're not dead and keep coming after you. What if he eludes us?"

"Bones don't do that. We'll get this done. We're at our best when we're taking care of our own."

"Except for Vincent…"

"What happened to Vincent has happened. We can't undo it, Temperance. But what we do in response to this. How we honor him by our actions is up to us." She acquiesced her agreement. "We're not guaranteed tomorrow." He started, kissing her forehead. "But know this – every day – and I mean every day that we've worked together – has been a blessing, Bones. If today is our last together – and I don't think that it is – but if it is, we are so lucky."

She wrapped her hands around his wrists, his hands still cupping her face. "I don't believe in luck." Allowing another tear to escape.

His lips curled up slightly. "But you do believe in evidence. We're the best team the FBI has ever seen, no?" She nodded. "We partner with some of the best scientists and investigators in their respective fields to make this world a better place. Every day we go to war Bones, and we have the honor of giving victims back their dignity. We do this every day. To you, that's evidence. To me – I'm a loser... a recovering gambler from a broken home with a kid that I barely get to see – but I'm lucky enough to have you. I'm so lucky that you're my partner, Bones."

"Other than your statement about you being a loser, I concede that your reasoning is sound." Booth stroked her hair. "But, it will not ease the anxiety that I have related to the rest of this case."

"I know Bones. Let's just focus on our objective of getting Broadsky, okay? For Vincent. I promise that I'll be as cautious as possible, okay?"

"Okay."

Booth held her at arm's length, leaning his head down to look her in the eyes. "Bones, I'm going to ask you to do something that I never have, and hope I'll never need to again. I need you to put up your walls."

Brennan's brow furrowed in confusion and she shifted to illustrate that she did not understand his request. "I need you to compartmentalize, Bones. I need you to stay focused on locating Broadsky and getting justice for Vincent. I need you to be dispassionate and clinical today. Please don't be distracted worrying about me, okay? Be 'Brennan on steroids' today." He teased.

She huffed out a laugh at his ridiculous request. "Okay, Booth. We'll speak with you if we have any leads that seem promising. Please be careful."

Out of the sight line of the transport team, other motorists and the garage cameras, Booth used his whole body to push Brennan up against the transport vehicle. She gasped at the sudden action, unable to brace herself from his crowding. He placed his hands on either side of her elbows and kissed her thoroughly.

"I love you Temperance Brennan. You. Are Loved. Other than Parker and Pops, there is no one that I love more, and I'm only in love with you." He stared at her to ensure that she was feeling the weight of his words. He knew – and didn't care – that she wasn't ready to reciprocate. It didn't matter. She belonged to him and the both knew it.

He continued to stare at her, watching something – change over her face. The gold fire in her eyes flashed as she nodded in affirmation. "I love you too, Booth."

Seven years. Seven years, eight states, nine countries visited between them; two therapists, eleven miles or four Metro stops between their homes; four thousand miles between them when they were furthest apart. Eight assistants. Six books she had published. Seven written if you count the deleted story. Sixteen relationships with others, hundreds of victims and almost as many arrests. Hundreds of briefings at the Hoover. Thousands of latex gloves. Thousands of French Fries. Thousands of miles traveled between crime scenes, his and her apartments and offices. Hundreds, Hell, maybe hundreds of thousands of arguments between them. All of it danced in her eyes with her statement. She said it. She was ready.

His legs buckled slightly and his eyes welled up, he was certain that he'd never hear those words from her mouth. He shook his head, they didn't have enough time for a moment this heavy. "So, we love each other then?" he tried to make light of the situation. She smiled weakly as he sucked at her bottom lip. "That's my girl, Bones. That's my girl." They held each other until Brennan had recovered from the moment. "You okay?"

"Yes. Thank you, Booth. For loving me." She sniffed and straightened as Booth watched Dr. Brennan returned. "I will speak with you later when we have more news".

"Yes we will. Go." He replaced the strap of her satchel as it had slipped off her shoulder, and made room for her to walk to the garage elevator. He watched Dr. Brennan stride toward the elevator, never once looking back at him until she waited for the elevator door. As the door opened, she turned his way to catch him watching her. She smiled slightly, and then entered the elevator, out of his sight.