A/N: I just want to thank BonesDBchippie for one of the lines in this chapter; it was so perfectly written in your review of chapter 9 that I couldn't pass up the chance to use it.

AsaneismRnuTs: I hope your presentation went well today. You told me a secret about your paper, so I'm gonna tell you a secret about how I manage to get chapters out on time: my job is super easy, so I spend my down time at work writing these chapters! It's kinda nice, though; I look at it like I get paid to do something I love: write! Now, if only one of my novels would get published, I could say that truthfully. Hmmm…

TrueRomantic: I know; I'm an evil person. You know, when I read your review, I had visions of a five-year old sticking out her tongue and saying "Meanie!" It made me laugh; it was so perfectly written! Now, I honestly had thoughts of continuing the chapter so you guys could see how it turned out yesterday, but I figured it was more intriguing to make you wait. I'm so mean.

Jaed621: It's funny you mentioned that she needs him; that's exactly what I was thinking yesterday, when I was writing the chapter.

Rockerbaby423: Glad to know you don't hate me, even after the cliffhanger I left. Actually, I didn't really expect anyone to hate me, just maybe the Brennan in my story. Yeah, I miss the Angela/Brennan chats, too; that's why I put this one in there. And the kids I just couldn't pass over for this conversation; it was just too perfect.

BonesDBchippie: So your husband hasn't figured out yet who really steers the ship, huh? That's OK; make him think he's in charge for a little bit. Maybe I am just a little bit nuts. But that's why you all love me and are hooked on my story; it's what makes me a good writer. OK, so now that I've had my own little boost of self-confidence going there, I'm going to give you one: I loved your "yanked the poor guy's heart out, spit on it, then gave it a good stomp" so much that I'm incorporating it into my story. Hope you don't mind!

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It actually took Angela only ten minutes to get to Brennan's apartment and let herself in. After the incident in New Orleans – then later the one with the exploding refrigerator – Temperance had given Booth, Angela, and Hodgins spare keys to her apartment just in case something happened to her and they needed to get in for some reason.

Angela made her way to the spare bedroom and glanced in. Satisfied that the kids were sleeping soundly, she headed down the hall to Brennan's bedroom and knocked lightly. "Bren? Sweetie?" she called softly before entering. What she found there shocked her. Temperance was curled up on her bed, knees to her chest, crying softly. Her body was wracking with sobs and she was clutching her bedspread.

"He's gone, Ange," Temperance replied, voice muffled by the bedspread. Angela quietly sat on the edge of the bed and stroked her friend's back, allowing her to continue if she wanted. "He just…left. He was so angry. And hurt! I don't think I've ever seen such disappointment in a person's eyes before." She quieted as another burst of sobs attacked her.

Angela remained silent for a moment, still stroking Temperance's back gently, forming her thoughts before speaking. "Sweetie, maybe he has a right to be angry," she began hesitantly. She continued when she saw the blue in Brennan's eyes turn her way. "Look at it from his perspective: he loves you. He loves you, and he told you that he loves you, and you blew him off. Jack called him just after you called me, and Booth said you told him you wanted your old partnership back. Bren, I know you aren't an emotional person; Booth knows that, too. But telling the man you've been sleeping with all week that you want to go back to being partners right after he tells you he loves you isn't the right move, either."

"Way to be supportive, Ange," Temperance remarked acerbically, sitting up.

Angela smiled. "Sweetie, it's the truth. While I don't agree with him walking out, I also don't agree with the way you handled things, either."

Temperance sighed. "The partnership thing; it didn't come out the way I meant it to."

"So go tell him what you meant to say," Angela suggested.

"I don't know, Ange. He was pretty angry when he left here."

"Brennan, he's probably not angry so much as hurt. The only person that can fix that is you. So go." She pulled her friend off the bed and gave her a good shove in the direction of the bedroom door.

"OK, I'm going! You'll stay here with the kids?" Temperance asked, slipping her feet into her shoes and grabbing her coat and keys.

"What, like I'd leave them by themselves?" Angela asked, laughing. "Don't worry, Bren; I'll still be here when you and that hunky G-man of yours get back."

Temperance laughed uncertainly. "Ange, you know how I feel about coming to conclusions before we have all the facts," she rebuked.

"Good thing that I'm not doing that, then," the artist countered good-naturedly.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

She knocked tentatively and waited, biting her lower lip gently in anticipation. Finally, the door opened and Hodgins appeared, looking relieved to see her. "Angela called and told me you were on your way, but I didn't tell the G-man you were coming," he announced.

Temperance glanced behind him before asking, "How is he?"

"Drunk," was the laughing reply he gave her. He held the door open wider, allowing her in. He shut the door behind her and followed her into the living room, where she had headed.

Booth was slouched on the couch with a half-empty bottle of Jack in his hand. He glanced up at her when she entered the room and scowled. "Come for round two?" he asked bitterly.

"Jack, Angela's at my place waiting for you," Temperance looked sideways at the bug doctor, who was shaking his head. "Go," she whispered, turning her attention back to Booth. "We'll be fine."

Jack nodded, grabbing his jacket and heading out the door. "Good luck, Temperance," he mumbled on his way out.

Temperance took off her coat and laid it over the back of his recliner before taking a seat next to him. Booth's gaze on her never wavered as he muttered, "OK, you got him to leave. What do you want?"

She took a deep breath, relieved that he didn't sound as drunk as he looked. She really needed him to have a clear head for this. He must have read her thoughts, because he remarked wryly, "I've had the bottle for months, only taking a drink every now and then. I've had maybe three shots tonight." He set the bottle on the coffee table in front of him and continued, "I planned to finish it off tonight, but obviously that's not gonna happen until you've finished with me. So again I ask: what do you want?"

"I want to apologize," she stated evenly. "You told me something very important to you today, and I reacted badly. I'm sorry."

"That's it?" he asked, standing up. "You reacted badly? Jesus, Bones, that doesn't even begin to cover it!" she cringed at the raised voice, but looked up at him anyhow. "I told you I love you, and instead of saying even just 'thank you', you told me you wanted to go back to being just partners! You yanked my heart out, spit on it, then stomped on it just for good measure, and all you can think of to say is you're sorry?"

"You didn't give me a chance to explain what I meant; you just left!" she countered, standing up with her eyes blazing.

"What do you mean, explain what you meant? 'I want our partnership back' is pretty well self-explanatory," he spat out.

"The partnership I was referring to was the one we had been creating after we started sleeping together. The one where everything was equal between us; where everything was shared. That's the partnership I want back."

He was stunned into silence, so she reached up and cupped his cheek. He wrapped his hand around hers and sat down, pulling her with him. "You took away our equality when you told me you loved me, Booth. I can't tell you that I love you; I don't know what it means to be in love."

He sighed and looked into her eyes. "Just answer one question for me, Bones," he requested.

She nodded and he continued, "Do you want me?"

She thought about if for a moment, then slowly shook her head. When she started to feel him back away, she squeezed his hand and explained. "My first reaction was to say 'yes'," she began, "but after thinking about it I realize I don't want you nearly as much as I need you. Wanting you implies that I don't have you. But when you told me you loved me, symbolically speaking, you handed your heart over to me."

He gave a little laugh. "Psychology, Bones?" he asked, amused.

"This isn't Psychology; this is Anthropology," she insisted. "I keep telling you: Psychology deals with the individual; Anthropology deals with society as a whole. Saying 'I love you' is different for every person. But it's generally accepted that when 'I love you' is said, the person that said it 'gave their heart' to the other person."

He held up his hands in defeat. "OK, so you don't want me. But you need me? Temperance, you don't need anyone."

"When Katie and Hayley first came to me," she explained, "I didn't know what I was doing. Didn't have the slightest clue how to take care of a child. You helped me through that. You were there to comfort me and the girls when we found out about our family. You were there to support me when I confronted McVicar. Don't you see? I don't know how to be without you anymore."

"Is that all you need me for?" he joked. "To be there for you when things get tough?"

She smiled and joked back, "Well, the sex is really great."

He laughed delightedly and pulled her against him. "OK, that's all I wanted." At her confused look, he explained. "You admitted, in that spiel you just gave me, that you were attracted to me; you care about me; and you need me in your life. You would never admit to any of that if it wasn't true, just like I know that you will never admit to loving me if you're not 100 percent sure you do."

She nodded. "You're right; I would never toy with you like that."

"Which is why," he whispered. "I'm OK with just 'I need you' for right now. I'm a patient person; I can wait until you figure out if you love me or not to hear it. As long as you don't object to hearing it from me."

She pretended to contemplate his request before taking pity on his look and grinning. "I'd be disappointed in you if I didn't hear it every day," she laughed. "Who knows? The more you tell me, the faster I might figure it out."

"In that case," he leered, kissing her, "I love you." He kissed her right cheek. "I love you." Her left cheek. "I love you." Her chin. "I love you." He nibbled at her neck. "I love you." He leaned over her, pushing her backwards on the couch, as he unbuttoned her blouse and cupped her right breast. "I love you."

"Seeley," she murmured huskily, grinding her hips against his.

"Hmmm?" he moaned against her mouth.

She arched her back and wrapped her legs around his waist. "I little less talking; a little more action," she demanded, pulling off his t-shirt and running her fingers over his chest before shrugging out of her blouse and tossing it aside.

He complied with her request, and soon their remaining clothes had joined the pile on the floor and he was sheathing himself inside her, hard. "I love you," he groaned once more before succumbing to the urge to move.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Mmmm…morning," Booth mumbled the next morning, reaching over to the other side of his bed, only to find it empty. Alarmed, he opened his eyes and discovered what he already knew: he was alone. "Oh God, it was a dream," he groaned.

But what a dream: memories of the couch, the floor, the kitchen table, the wall, and the bed all came flooding back to him. He even felt pleasantly achy, and – peeking under the covers – noticed with some level of confusion that he was also completely naked. Serves you right for drowning your sorrows in a bottle of Jack Daniels, he chastised himself.

That's when it hit him: if all this was a dream, then Temperance really had meant what she said last night about just being partners, and a wave of grief washed over him. He rolled out of bed, pulled a pair of sweatpants out of his dresser, and headed to the kitchen to make himself some coffee.

As he headed down the hallway, however, he noticed the smells wafting through the apartment: coffee, bacon, eggs, and hashbrowns assaulted his nose. He entered the kitchen and stopped dead in his tracks. She was so adorable, standing over his stove, wearing nothing but one of his button-down shirts, humming as she flipped something in the pan in front of her.

"You're here," he stated, still stunned to see her standing there. She laughed before turning around, spatula still in her hand.

"I should think so, after last night," she glanced pointedly at the kitchen table, grinned sheepishly, then turned back to the stove.

He moved behind her, grabbed her around the waist, and kissed her hair. "I love you," he murmured.

She sighed contentedly. "I know." She turned her head for a kiss, deepening it instinctively, before remembering the eggs she had been frying. She broke away and turned her attention back to the pan. The eggs were taken out of the pan, pronounced to still be edible, and placed on plates already loaded down with hashbrowns, bacon, and sausage.

"Do we even have time to eat breakfast this morning?" Booth asked, glancing at the clock. 7:26. "We have to be at work in half an hour," he pointed out, getting himself a cup of coffee as she set the plates on the table and sat in front of hers.

She shook her head. "We don't have work for the next two weeks," she argued. At his blank look, she reminded him. "Christmas and New Year's Day? Cullen gave you the time off; I was there when he called you."

He nodded. "Yeah, but that doesn't start till Monday."

"Oh, that's right!" she remembered. "He called while you were still sleeping and said to take the rest of the week off for the funerals. Something about giving me 'emotional support'." She shrugged, taking a sip of her coffee.

He grinned lecherously. "What will we do with the time?" he asked, hand going to her knee as he leaned over for a kiss.

"We have to go pick out caskets. And flowers. And music. And arrange for the funeral home to pick up the remains from the Jeffersonian," she rambled. He kissed her once more to quiet her, then leaned back into his own chair.

"Is that it?" he grinned, amused.

She smiled, nodding. "For the morning, anyhow. This afternoon, we'll also have to buy the girls and Parker clothes for the funeral. And we still have the tiny little matter of the pile of presents in the stowaway compartment in your SUV that still need to be wrapped. And we have to buy stockings for myself and the girls, and stocking stuffers. And, at some point today, I have to go shopping alone, so I can get your presents…"

Again, he leaned over to silence her with a kiss. "I get it," he murmured, stealing one more kiss. "We're gonna need this huge breakfast you cooked, so we may as well eat it before it gets cold."

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They entered her apartment a short time later, holding hands and completely sated. They had, of course, taken a shower together after breakfast, adding to their list of marked areas in his apartment. Angela, Jack, and the kids looked up from the bowls of cereal they were eating, the two adults grinning knowingly.

"Tempe, where were you guys?" Katie asked. "We woke up and you were gone, and Dr. Jack and Miss Angie told us that you had something you had to do."

"That's right, Sweetheart," Booth answered, coming up to ruffle the kids' hair. "Temperance and I had something to do," he grinned at her, "but it's done now. But we have to leave again as soon as Temperance gets dressed. We have a few errands to run for tomorrow," he whispered to Angela, nodding discreetly to the girls, who were chatting with Jack about the different kinds of beetles. Angela nodded soberly, then glanced at Brennan, who was gesturing for her to come into the bedroom.

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"So, did you tell him?" Angela asked, once they were alone. Tempe shook her head. "What? Sweetie, the two of you look a whole hell of a lot happier than you should, if you were yelling at each other the whole night."

"Ange, I can't tell Booth something that I don't honestly feel. I did, however, promise to tell him as soon as I do feel it. He says he's satisfied with that," she explained, pulling a pair of jeans and a shirt out of her closet and laying them on her bed.

"He's satisfied with unrequited love?" Angela asked doubtfully. "Sweetie, forgive me saying this, but that man deserves better."

"I told him I need him; I explained the 'partnership' comment; I even told him to tell me he loves me as often as possible," she defended. "I want to love him, Angela; I just don't know how."

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A/N: OK, there's chapter 10. Let me know what you think!