"Sully," Temperance said dispassionately.

He smiled. "How have you been?"

Standing there with his baseball cap on backwards, oversized jeans and T-shirt, "He looks like an overgrown child," Temperance thought. "I've been well…and you?"

"Oh…you know," he said closing the distance between them, "getting by. I've got 'Temperance' docked in the marina."

She had forgotten he had named his boat after her. "What are you doing here?"

Sully said, "What? A close friend gets shot and you don't think I would come to see how he is?"

"How did you find out? I made all of the notification calls from Booth's phone. You weren't listed."

"I've still got friends in the Bureau," he said. "You made the calls? So you and he…?"

"We're still partners, yes," she said. She noticed Sully seemed to relax at that. "Did you stop by to see Booth?"

"Do you think I've been hanging around the visitors' parking lot waiting for you to come out?" Sully said, his smile broadening.

She had to admit, it sounded pretty foolish to put it like that. "No…I've just been a little…"

"Distracted." He finished, nodding. "Tell you what, sometime, we should get together and catch up."

Temperance started to shake her head, "I don't think…" she began; she was interrupted by her cell phone. Looking at the screen, she saw the call was from Cullen.

"Brennan here," she said. Sully looked towards the ground while waiting.

"Dr Brennan…it's Sam Cullen."

"Yes, hello Director Cullen." Temperance turned her back to Sully, whose gaze remained on the ground, although he stopped fidgeting.

"How is Agent Booth doing?" Cullen asked.

"Much better sir." Temperance answered. "You know he's been off the ventilator, and he's alert and responsive. They are going to get him up to do some walking in a little bit. I'm on my way to pick up some things from his apartment."

"Sounds like you're doing a great job taking care of him."

Still startled by praise from Cullen, Temperance said, "Th…Thank you, sir."

"Dr Brennan, could you come in to the office tomorrow at around 10:00 AM? I'd like to discuss your status as far as fieldwork is concerned." Cullen asked.

"Yes, of course. Ten o'clock, your office."

They said their goodbyes. Sully looked up with an inquisitive expression on his face. "What did Deputy Director Cullen want?"

Temperance turned and weighed whether or not to tell Sully. "Booth thinks I should still go out in the field with another agent. So that my investigative skills don't atrophy while he's stuck on rehab or desk duty. Cullen's called me to a meeting tomorrow morning."

Sully added, "Booth's a smart guy…and of course if there's been any nerve damage and he can't weapons qualify, he may never come back."

Temperance looked at Sully with horror, "What…what do you mean, 'never come back'?"

"Well, they're not going to put an agent out on the street if he can't shoot a gun accurately. It would have to be a desk job or retirement for him."

"I never thought of that…" Temperance murmured. "I've…got to go," she said absently, as she unlocked her car door.

"Okay…" Sully continued. "Dinner sometime?"

"I…I don't know." Temperance said, preoccupied. She got in, closed the door and started the car.

"I'll give you a call," Sully yelled as Temperance backed the car out of the stall, put the car in forward and drove off.

Sully stood, watching, as she rounded a corner and disappeared in the multitude of cars. He walked over to his car and got in. He started the engine, put the car in reverse, and pulled out of the stall. Edging his car through the rows to the exit, he pulled out his cell phone and began scrolling through his address book. When he got to "FBI - DD – Cullen" he hit the Send button and smiled as he waited for someone to answer.

The key slid easily into the lock. Temperance could feel her heart thrumming in her chest. "Why am I so nervous?" she thought. "It's not like there's somebody in here waiting for me." She turned the key and heard the 'Snap' of the deadbolt as it slid back. She reached for the doorknob, and hesitated. "What now?" her rational brain screamed. "You've been here before." She answered, "But he was always with you."

Her mind shrieked, "This is His place. Private…sacrosanct. Anyone who enters is always chaperoned by him." She felt a trespasser at the gates of some forbidden sanctuary. "He gave you permission to go in." But to do so alone felt somehow imposing. Was she prepared for what was inside? What secrets is he laying open for her to see?

"I'm sure if there were anything he didn't want me to see, or was embarrassing, he would have sent Jon." She turned the knob.

Turning on the lights, the place was as she remembered. Save a little messier. "He cleans up before I come over." She noted. The door closed behind her. She turned and set the deadbolt. Looking around, she wondered, "Why do men always seem to like dark sturdy wood for their furniture and walls? Kind of makes it look dark, almost like a cave." As she made her way towards the bedroom, her heart beat faster. "Now what's this all about?" she thought with her hand to her chest.

"I've never been in here before, that's what the problem is," she thought.

Standing in the doorway, she saw his big, wooden bed frame. A basic, brown-hued comforter covered the neatly made bed. Temperance smiled at that, "Yeah, he would be the type of man who would make his bed every day." While his suit hung neatly on a wooden suit hanger on what Temperance surmised was his closet door, his dress shirt and some underclothes lay on the bed in disarray. "He must have hurried home to change into his 'soft clothes' before coming to the club." She walked along the foot of the bed, tracing her finger along the top of the wooden footboard. An unseen aroma of manliness tickled her insides, edging its way further down her torso. "Pheromones," she noted.

Reaching the closet, she opened it and found a medium-sized gym bag she thought would fit the bill. She laid the bag on the bed and opened the drawers of his dresser looking for jeans and a t-shirt, as well as some fresh underclothes and socks. He had worn his favorite green lightweight jacket as an over shirt to the club, so he couldn't wear that home. She looked around the closet and came up with an almost identical jacket amongst all of the dress shirts Booth would wear with his suits. She smiled, "Almost like a security blanket."

Leaving the bedroom, she walked into the bathroom across the hall. Temperance opened his medicine chest and, resisting the temptation to snoop through the various bottles and tubes, found his shaving necessities…razor…shaving cream…aftershave. Temperance hesitated…and then opened the top to his aftershave. She closed her eyes and passed it under her nose smiling at the familiar scent. When she started feeling a tingling in her pelvic region, she tore her eyes open. Blinking, she put the cap back on and crossed back to the bedroom.

Looking again in the closet, she finally found the toiletry travel case she was looking for. Temperance opened the case, saw it was empty, and put the shaving equipment in. She crossed back over to the bathroom…she could still feel his aftershave and musk tickling her lower abdomen.

Temperance found his other toiletries with no problem. Although, she couldn't find a travel case for his toothbrush. She moved out to the kitchen and found a roll of plastic wrap. She tore a six-inch panel off and wrapped the bristle end of the toothbrush in it. Looking around in the drawers for a rubber band, she only found a plastic bag full of wire ties from bread wrappers. "What the…?" she mused. She removed one and wrapped it around the toothbrush, keeping the plastic wrap in place.

Proud of her ingenuity, she started back into the bedroom. On the way, she stopped to admire his home audio set up. "It's only fair," she thought. "I've always only been here on business, working cases. When he was at my apartment he went through my music collection."

Booth had an impressive collection of CDs and she was surprised to see many vinyl records. He had the requisite equipment to play his collection. She didn't even realize record turntables were made and sold anymore. It looked top of the line.

Her fingers moved from one CD to another…and then through the line of vinyl albums. She smiled when she came to the "Double Vision" CD by Foreigner. Temperance remembered the two of them dancing to "Hot Blooded" in her apartment. She was surprised to see "The Greatest" by Cat Power. He had an eclectic collection.

Temperance moved back into the bedroom. She packed his toiletries in the travel case and put it in the bag. Sitting on the bed, looking around, she tried to think of anything else he might need or want. She absently picked up his dress shirt and ran her fingers along the fabric. "This really is a comfortable-looking bedroom." She bounced a couple of times on the bed. "Nice." Without thinking, she spun her legs and feet up onto the bed and lay down, looking up at the ceiling. Still clutching his shirt, she closed her eyes. "So this is what his bed feels like…"

Her eyes flew open. "What am I doing?" She sat up and put her feet back on the floor. But she still had hold of his shirt. She raised it to her face and inhaled his aroma. The aftershave, mixed with his pheromones seemed dizzying, almost intoxicating. An idea tickled its way into her mind. She looked at his shirt, and then looked around, trying to make up her mind. She smiled.

Temperance kicked off her shoes and began removing her clothes.

She looked at herself in the mirror. Booth's shirt was oversized for her. Even so, it felt luxurious next to her skin. The front and tail of the shirt ended at mid-thigh. She had to roll up the sleeves just so that she didn't have to always pull them up when she wanted to use her hands. She had tried on a pair of Booth's multi-colored socks, but she thought they didn't look quite right with the white shirt. Temperance found a pair of white socks, "He must use them when he works out," in his dresser. She had found his hat that he wore undercover in Las Vegas, and that was perched atop her head. She turned her head from side to side, "Not bad…I should wear hats more often," she thought. Topping off the look was one of Booth's ties. She had no clue how to properly tie one, but she did the best she could.

She moved out to the living room. Temperance hit the power button to his CD player. The door opened invitingly. She opened a case and loaded the CD in the player. The door closed hungrily. After a few moments, she saw the CD begin to spin, and the first strains of Cat Power's "The Greatest" began to flow from the speakers.

Temperance closed her eyes, stood in the middle of the living room, arms encircling herself, swaying to the music…losing herself in the feel and smell of his clothes, the sounds of his life…and imagined she wasn't alone.