There was nothing on the other side of that ridge, or the next one either. They were forced to accept that they would spend a second night in the woods.

During the late afternoon, they'd stumbled across a small stream, and were following the winding trail it made down the mountain.

At some point, Brennan had found a patch of vine. He hadn't understood her excitement, until she explained that most of the plant was edible. He groaned, but hunger was stronger than his reticence and he helped her gather as much of the plant as they could carry.

It appeared, that with the water and the rabbit food, they would be uncomfortable, but not painfully so. It renewed his hope that they might actually make it back to people in one piece.

"Here," he said, pointing to a flat area above the water. The sun was rapidly setting and he could feel the difference in the air. He was never going anywhere without a coat again.

She nodded, gratefully setting the bag on the ground. She put her hands on her hips and arched her back, trying to stretch out aching muscles.

"I haven't hiked this much in a long time," she admitted. Bending over, she retrieved a flare and a large, round piece of metal from the bag. "Do you want fire or water duty?"

"I'll go get some dry wood, if you'll make a pit for the fire," Booth offered. He'd give her the job that gave her more of a chance to rest while he took the more physical labor.

Choosing a spot, she started throwing sticks and rocks out of her way. Since she had a good start, Booth walked a short distance away to grab the needed wood.

It would be colder that night without the plane at their backs. In addition, there was a greater chance of animals, some of them large, the farther they moved down the mountain. A good fire would be important not only for warmth, but for protection from things that walked on more than two legs.

"I feel like I'm stuck in that movie where the guy relives the same day over and over again," Booth said when he got back.

Brennan looked up from where she was ripping out pages of her book to use as kindling. "I don't understand."

"There's this movie, Groundhog Day, where the actor relives the same day over and over again. That's what this feels like." He watched her for a moment. "You really need to get a television, Bones."

"I got one," she said, lighting the flare. The paper lit and burned brightly, igniting the small pieces of wood she'd stacked above it. She considered the flare for a second, shoving the burning end into the ground to put it out.

"Maybe we can relight it later if we need to," she explained. She held out her hand toward Booth.

He picked up a larger piece of wood and handed it to her. "When did you get a television?"

"After Hannah left." She bit her lip, watching the fire carefully to make sure it didn't go out. "I thought, that with her gone, you might start coming to my apartment again after cases."

He hadn't come because he wasn't sure he was welcome. And he'd been so angry at first. In those first days, he thought he might be angry forever. It had taken a long time for that feeling to go away.

And when the anger had faded, he hadn't been sure how to find his way back to the way it had been before. If that was where he wanted to end up. Since he wanted to be sure before he made a move, he'd avoided spending a lot of time alone with her.

All of which seemed like really ridiculous reasons now. She'd always accepted who he was, even when he wasn't sure himself.

"It's not your fault I didn't come, Bones. That was my decision."

She shrugged and Booth wondered if that meant it didn't matter, or it mattered a lot and she didn't want to talk about it.

"I've been watching some shows on it recently," she admitted.

Booth's curiosity was raised. What kind of shows would Bones like to watch? "Anything in particular?"

Her look turned embarrassed. "I'm not sure I want to say."

Now he was really intrigued. His mind whirled with all the interesting possibilities. "Come on, Bones. You can't bring it up and then not share. That goes against all social conventions between friends."

She looked at him carefully, trying to decide whether he was teasing her or not. He fought to keep his face neutral, giving nothing away.

Finally, she mumbled something that he thought he couldn't have heard correctly. "Did you just say Survivor?" he asked with a laugh.

"Yes," she snapped. She grabbed the metal bowl from its resting place on the ground. "The fire has the ingredients it requires for the moment. I'm going to get some water."

He watched her walk away, trusting that she wasn't really mad, just embarrassed.

"We'll probably have to spend half the night boiling enough water to refill the water bottles," she said as she returned.

"Oh, no," he said, taking the water from her to set on the fire. "You aren't getting out of it that easily. Why Survivor?"

She crossed her arms and gave him a look that dared him to tease her. "It's fascinating anthropologically, watching various people from different backgrounds try to create a functional community."

Booth grinned at her. "How long did you practice that answer, just in case someone asked you about it?"

"It's the truth," she argued, throwing a stick at him.

He dodged it easily. "Let's get some of that green stuff out and then get ready to sleep. Tomorrow will be another long day."