"Booth! Booth!"

He woke to Brennan shaking him, and he immediately panicked.

"What's wrong?"

"Angela knows."

"I…what?"

"Angela knows."

He was fully awake now, and he realized that she was sitting upright in bed, on her knees next to him. Her eyes were clear and bright, her hair in a neat ponytail. She'd obviously been awake for some time.

He looked at the clock. "Bones? It's almost three am. And…Angela knows what?" He shook his head to clear it of the dream he'd been having.

"Angela knows that we're having sex."

He sat up slowly. "Okaaaaay." She looked distraught. "Again. It's almost three am. You woke me to tell me that you told Angela we're together now?"

"I didn't tell her, Booth. You asked me to keep it a secret. I wouldn't betray you. She…" Brennan looked down at her hands in her lap, as if ashamed. "She guessed. She just knew."

He smiled at her in amusement. "What, she used her magic sex-radar?"

"Her what?—Oh. You're being amusing." But her tone indicated that he was failing. "No, I—yesterday morning I used your bodywash and shampoo, and when Angela hugged me, she said that I 'reeked' of you. That, coupled with our unusual behavior towards one another in the lab…Angela is very intuitive about that sort of thing." She had a small frown between her eyebrows as if she couldn't quite believe she'd admitted that out loud.

"It's okay, Bones."

"I apologize that I neglected to tell you earlier."

He was fairly certain that this was not what was actually bothering her. "It's fine. She's your best friend. It's no big deal."

"And you have a child!" The panic in her voice rose again.

"Yeeess. I do. Um…" his voice dropped to a whisper, "we both knew that already."

"Why do you find this humorous?"

"Well, Bones, you woke me in the middle of the night to tell me your best friend figured out we're together and to inform me that I have a kid. I'm a little…confused. And you seem very worried, so I've decided to go with being amused that you're panicking rather than pissed that you woke me?"

She fixed him with a stern glare. "There are many factors we failed to discuss before we entered into this relationship."

"Um, Bones? We've been discussing everything for five years."

"But as partners! Work partners! Not…sexual partners! Not with the intention of sharing our personal lives!"

He was surprised at how calm he felt. Honestly, since he'd woken up in her bed two days ago he'd been waiting for this. Several times he'd thought she was freaking out when she wasn't and he'd panicked internally. Now that she actually was panicking, he was surprisingly calm. In a way he was relieved. They could work through this and he wouldn't have it hanging over his head anymore.

"Okay, Bones. Let's take a step back here. Deep breaths."

"Do not patronize me, Booth. I'm not a child."

He just looked at her for a moment.

She looked down at her hands and murmured, "I suppose I am acting a bit childish, though."

"Oh, come on, Bones. Don't be so hard on yourself."

"Why are you so calm?"

"What?"

"You. Several times since we began having sex you've thought I was panicking and changing my mind and you looked worried. Now that I actually am you are perfectly calm?"

"Wait—are you just panicking or are you—have you changed your mind?"

"No. No of course not." She gave him a tentative smile, but he could see unshed tears in her eyes.

He covered her hands with one of his. "It's okay to be worried. It's okay to freak out. But…could you do it at a more reasonable hour?"

She finally smiled fully, then wiped her eyes with the sash of her robe. "I woke up and began thinking about our conversation at dinner and I suddenly realized that we hadn't figured anything out. Anything. We didn't prepare or plan, we didn't consider the consequences. We've just been having sex and not talking about any of it."

"Do you want to talk about it now?"

"No."

"Bones? You woke me to tell me you're worried about all this stuff that we haven't talked about and that you don't want to talk about it now?"

"I feel very foolish."

"How about this? Until the trial is over, we'll keep doing what we've been doing: we'll alternate between your place and mine. If you want to tell everyone at work, then we'll tell them. We don't have to tell Parker right away, if you don't want to. You hang out with us all the time anyway. We'll just let it flow when we're with him, and we'll spend those nights apart. And Bones." He touched her chin and held her gaze, "If you need some time alone, just tell me. We don't have to spend every night together. I know you're used to having your own space. It's fine."

His matter-of-fact tone was simultaneously soothing and irritating. Clearly he'd given this some consideration, which she found reassuring. But he was being so damn calm and reasonable while she was feeling disoriented and overwhelmed.

Her instinct was to tell him she'd like some space right now, thank you very much and send him home. With any other man, she would have done exactly that. With any other man, I wouldn't have let him stay this long, she thought. She sighed. Booth wasn't just any man. She couldn't let her fears rule her, allow her to act impulsively and ruin this.

She looked up and realized that he was watching her carefully. "Booth…I—I'm sorry. I shouldn't have woken you. You can—you can go back to sleep." She rose to go into the living room.

"Bones, where are you going?" He was worried. She'd been so worked up, clearly something was bothering her, but now she just looked…deflated.

Without turning around she answered, "To make some tea. I'll be back in a few minutes."

She disappeared through the door and Booth wrestled with himself. Maybe she just needs some space, and you should leave her alone.

Or maybe there's more bothering her that she didn't tell you and it's going to fester and come back to bite you in the ass.

It was decided for him when he heard a crash and a gasp from the next room. He bolted into the kitchen to find shards of a glass littering the counter and floor amongst a puddle of water and Brennan cradling her right hand in a dishtowel.

He mopped up the water, then grabbed the dustpan and methodically cleaned the remnants of her glass while she just sat and watched, both of them silent. When the kettle began to whistle the sound echoed in the silence. Booth turned off the stove and removed the kettle from the eye.

When he'd finished, he sat next to her on the floor, their shoulders touching. "Lemme see it."

Still silent, she offered her hand to him.

"Let's get this cleaned up." He threw her arm over his shoulder and hoisted both of them off the floor, leading her into the guest bathroom. He'd spent enough time in her apartment that he knew where her first aid supplies were kept. The entire time that he swabbed, dried, and bandaged her cut, she was quiet, and she wouldn't meet his eyes.

"Do you still want tea?" he asked softly. There was a knot of worry settled in the pit of his stomach.

She shook her head.

"C'mon." She followed him to the couch. He laid down and pulled her down next to him, settling her head on his chest. He grabbed the remote and began flipping through channels. After only a few minutes, he felt her relax, and then fall asleep nestled between him and the back of the couch.

He focused on his breathing, calming his heart rate despite the panic coursing through him. Her quiet acceptance of his help cleaning up the mess and then her cut concerned him. She'd been so…complacent. But she didn't kick you out. She stayed with you. She's asleep practically on top of you. That's a good sign, right? He just wasn't sure.

He mentally reviewed the past few days. That first night had been so tumultuous: first despair, then anger, and then…that first time together had been so tender.

The next morning she'd expressed some uncertainty about how this would work between them, but she still insisted that she was in it.

And then that night…he ached a little when he thought of her explanation as to why she'd changed her mind.

She'd wanted this all along. He'd suspected that might be true, but had hardly dared to let himself hope it. When he parsed their words from That Night, he realized she'd said, "You thought you were protecting me, but you're the one who needs protecting…from me."

For weeks he'd agonized over what he could have said differently. You shouldn't have used the word "chance." You shouldn't have presented it as a gamble. She needed it to be a sure thing. He groaned quietly, and it caused her to stir slightly against him. Stop doing this. You're here with her now. There's no point to this.

She even said, "I love you," he reminded himself. He was still surprised about that. She'd whispered it again as they made love afterward, too. Maybe that was what initiated her meltdown. Well, that compounded by the fact that they barely slept in days, they were keeping a secret from their closest friends (most of them, anyway), and they were in the middle of the most stressful, personal case they'd ever worked.

Not to mention they hadn't discussed any of the practicalities associated with their new relationship. Every night when he'd talked to Parker on the phone she'd quietly busied herself doing something else until he finished. She hadn't asked how or when they'd tell his son. But Parker and Bones loved each other. She was great with him. When they did tell him, it was going to be fine.

He knew there were a lot of things that needed to be addressed, but he felt like they needed to get through this trial first. When Taffet was finally behind bars, preferably on death row, they'd be able to relax again. Breathe, even. He wasn't prepared yet to face the possibility of a different outcome to the trial.

The realization that stress and sleep deprivation were likely the cause of Bones' panic tonight eased the tension in his chest. He turned the volume on the television down and turned on his side to face her. They could do this. This was going to work.

But in the back of his mind he couldn't help feeling that it was his responsibility to make it work.