Tada! Good news, random news and bad news. The good news is that you have all been absolutely fabulous with your reviewing on the last chapter. Also, I know how this story is going to progress and damn it feels good! But I am going to put a poll up anyway, just because you have all been amazing so I feel like even though I know how the story is going to go, you can still get a say in stuff!

Thank you for all of your support, especially as more of you are starting to get involved and actually give me feedback and those that have reviewed up to this point, I'm going to be replying to your reviews. It means a lot, so thank you.

And the bad news....this is my last update for a few days- I'll probably be updating either Sunday, but probably it'll be Monday/Tuesday. So please take the chance while I'm gone to review and vote on my poll. If you have any other suggestions please put them in your review and I'll take them into account.

Enjoy!

"Angela, I really don't see what the problem is. " Brennan protested, looking up in exasperation at her artist friend. "I'm doing what you told me to. I'm moving on, aren't I?"

Angela paced quickly in front of Brennan's desk. "Yeah, sweetie, but I'm starting to think I might have got it all wrong."

Brennan's frown smoothed out and she looked earnestly up at Angela. " On the contrary, Angela, I think you got it completely right. Your advice has really worked." As she was speaking, her eyes flickered back to the computer screen and she began typing once again. Angela sighed. Brennan working on a book?- yeah, that was obsessive. Brennan on an internet dating site was ten times worse.

She stepped forward and pushed the laptop shut. Brennan's eyes widened as she looked at her friend in disbelief.

"Ange!" She quickly reopened the computer, only for it to be pushed shut smartly a couple of seconds later. "I was talking! They're going to think I'm extremely rude!"

Angela rolled her eyes quickly and scoffed. "Whatever. Like they'd even care."

Brennan frowned. "What does that mean?"

Angela leaned closer to Brennan and spoke carefully. "I just.. .I don't think it's a great idea anymore."

"But you said communicating with new people over the internet would be a new experiment-"Brennan began to remind Angela. Angela waved the words away carelessly.

"So? I made a mistake. Everybody makes mistakes, don't they? And I really think you being on that website is a big mistake. What if something happens? I mean, you hear about it all the time. Hot, 35 year old craftsman from Boston? Yeah, he's some fifty year old nerd living in his mom's basement. Or worse."

Brennan rolled her eyes. "I am fully aware of the risks of internet dating Angela. What I can't understand is what made you change your mind so suddenly?"

"It isn't a sudden change," Angela weaved her words carefully. "I've always had my doubts."

"You told me that it was perfectly safe," Brennan reminded Angela quickly, with clear accuracy, "You told me that fears based on using communications via the internet, though with its risks, is highly beneficial in the manufacture and introduction to a whole new world, plus a whole new group of people-"

"The world is full of really bad people, sweetie- you should know, you see their handiwork out their every day!" Angela gestured out towards the platform. "I just want you to be careful, and take it slow, and let me know what you're doing, so that I don't have to constantly worry about you-"

"Fine!" Brennan sighed, "But only because I know that you will refuse to leave me alone until you get your way, right?"

Angela grinned mischievously. "You know me so well, sweetie."

Brennan beckoned to her friend, and Angela stooped down behind Brennan and squinted at the screen. "Wow," She commented airily, "A lot of friends."

Brennan nodded. "It's a very popular site. There are thousands of people online in the chat rooms at literally any given time, from all around the world and these-" She extended her finger and trailed it down the long list on the right hand side of the screen, "These are the people I correspond with."

"Chat with, Brennan. It's a chat room." Angela said distractedly, as she scanned the list. "You talk with all of these people?"

Brennan nodded.

"Well, just as long as you don't meet them," Angela concluded ,still examining the screen names. Brennan looked oddly at her friend.

"Angela, I thought you approved of this sort of thing."

Angela bit her lip. "I do. I did. But these things are really dangerous, sweetie, and I don't want you to go off and get yourself hurt. Like I said, there are some bastards out there that are doing this for all of the really wrong reasons, and it can end badly." She paused. "Especially for you."

"Why especially for me? I'm exactly like all of the other people corresponding- chatting- on this site."

Angela arched an eyebrow. " Do all of the people on this site have a high-profile job making enemies every day, as well as making tons of obsesso fans every time they release one of their books?"

"Angela, you're exaggerating-"

"I'm not! Or are you just conveniently forgetting that bizarre fan that broke into your hotel room in Seattle a couple of years back and stole all of your luggage?"

Brennan blinked. "The police tracked down the guy. He never got to sell any of the stuff, and it wasn't important anyway-"

"Obsessive. It was obsessive." Angela looked surprised as one of the contact names started flashing. Somebody was talking to Brennan.

"Who's that? "CollateralDamage101"? "

Brennan shrugged. "Not too sure."

"And that?"

"I think she's called Sam, she's a doctor in New York."

"And that?"

Angela didn't miss the way Brennan's cheeks flushed slightly pink ,but she decided not to say anything.

"That's, erm, Leylan. He's a doctor, too."

"From?"

"Not too far from here, actually."

"And?"

"And…" Brennan began slowly, carefully choosing her words. "He's nice."

Angela studied her friend silently for a minute, then sighed. She leaned back over and squinted at the screen again. "And who…" She stabbed at the screen. "Snakes_Eyes"? "Baxon-Roller?" "

"Just chat room moderators. They just check things don't get too out of hand, they're probably just a computer. Nothing to worry about."

"But I am worrying, sweetie! Just-"

"Brennan?"

Both women looked up at the doorway, the source of the voice. It was Cam, holding a phone, hand cupped over the bottom so that the person on the other side of the call couldn't hear the conversation. She spoke quietly. "Sorry to interrupt, but I've got Cullen on the phone- I guess the answer's still no?"

"Yes - sorry." Brennan replied. Cam nodded and left the room. Angela looked down at Brennan, confused.

"What does Cullen want?"

Brennan shrugged, looking determinedly at the screen and not at her friend. "He just wanted to know if I was interested in field work, again."

Angela's face softened and she bit her lip. "And you don't-"

"No." Brennan replied immediately. "No, I don't."

"Sweetie…it's been three months. Booth isn't coming back."

Brennan visibly stiffened. "I know, Ange. I'm fine, I'm moving on, I just… I think I've had enough of field work."

"What about when Booth gets back?"

"I don't think he's coming back, Ange. " Silence, echoing through the room. Angela squeezed Brennan's shoulder. "Maybe it would be good for you?"

Brennan sighed. "I don't have the time, Angela. My book was due months ago now, and I still haven't finished the last chapter!"

Angela looked curious. "You're having trouble? That's not normal for you, is it?"

Brennan shook her head. "To be honest, I'm thinking about pulling the whole thing, Ange."

"What?? Why?"

"It just doesn't seem…right. I don't know..."

"So what are you going to do?" Angela asked.

"Well, I guess I just have to push on with it all."

Angela watched as Brennan closed down her chat room windows and opened up a new document. Before her friend became immersed in typing, Angela swallowed and spoke gently.

"Do you miss him, sweetie?"

Brennan froze. "I really think I should carry on Angela. I've got an incredible amount of work to do-"

"Brennan. Sweetie. You can talk to me, you know. The world won't end if Temperance Brennan confides in somebody."

Brennan's shoulders slumped but she kept her voice light when she spoke. "Of course I miss him. Every day. He was…my partner and my best friend rolled into one."

"Call him."

"Ange, I…I spoke to him. He's moved on, so I need to as well."

"You love him. And he loves you."

"Loved."

"Loves." Angela insisted. " Maybe if you can't talk to him, write to him?"

Brennan didn't reply. Angela took the hint, and slowly walked from the office.

Brennan glanced up as Angela was leaving and bit her lip.

She couldn't write to Booth.

Could she?

Brennan couldn't remember ever writing to Booth - texts clearly didn't count. Of course, she had mentioned him in her letter, when the Gravedigger had kidnapped her, along with Hodgins. To be fair, he had been a serious point of focus in her letter, but he didn't know that; nobody did. That letter had never left her pocket after Booth had saved her, and now it was hidden between the pages of a thick dictionary in the depths of her closet. Brennan hadn't been able to bring herself to burn the torn page. Hiding it away was the best option.

Brennan sighed, and brushed her hands down over her face in exasperation. She stared ahead at her at her computer and tried to get past this stupid…problem. She had denied twice, to Booth and Angela, that she had writers block, because she refused to believe it. Temperance Brennan had never had writers block in her whole writing career. It came naturally to her, whether quickly or gradually, but it still came. The mere suggestion that she had writers block embarrassed her, and made her feel oddly pathetic and inferior.

"Brennan?"

Brennan looked up; it was Cam again, looking apologetic. "I'm sorry to interrupt you, Doctor Brennan, but I just got off the phone to Cullen, he asked me to talk to you-"

"You know I'm not going to change my mind, Cam."

Cam grinned and nodded. "I think I know you well enough by now to know that, Doctor Brennan. No, I told Cullen and he's asked if you could just pop over quickly for a word."

Brennan looked slightly taken aback. "Now?"

Cam nodded. "As soon as possible, he said. Do you want me to call him back and tell him it isn't convenient for you?Brennan shook her head but gave a grateful half smile. "No, thank you, Cam. I think in this situation it would be better to get whatever he wants to talk about over with as quickly as I can."

Twenty minutes later, Brennan walked into the corridor of the F.B.I building onto which, at the very end, lead Cullen's office. She approached it slowly, and knocked on the door. She heard an invitation to enter, and opened the door smoothly.

"Doctor Brennan." Cullen greeted her simply, and waved an arm at the chair across the desk from him. "Please, take a seat. And thank you for coming at such short notice."

"Thank you. And it was no problem at all, although I have had to put aside work on my new book-"

Cullen looked partly surprised, and partly amused at her polite, yet rather blunt attitude. "Well, of course. I know how busy you are, Doctor Brennan, even without field work."

Brennan smiled. "I take it that is what you want to talk to me about? Continuing with my field work?"

"Very astute of you, Doctor Brennan; you are, of course, correct." There was a silence. "You are one of the F.B.I's greatest connections, maybe the best of your profession. You have become a great asset to our work."

Brennan glanced down at her lap. "With the greatest respect, sir, field work isn't what I ever intended to do; it isn't my work, if you see what I mean."

"But you have enjoyed it?" Cullen probed. Brennan remained silent, and he leaned forward, lowering his voice. "Does this have anything to do with Booth's departure?"

Brennan stubbornly avoided Cullen's gaze. She focussed her attention on the cabinet behind his head, her eyes raking over trophies, and pictures; her eyes fell upon two in particular- one of a young girl she recognised as Cullen's daughter, Amy, lying smiling in her hospital bed, and another, a pastel picture of a field of sunflowers, one of the young girl's pieces, framed. Brennan swallowed.

Cullen had been watching her intently. "I understand that his leaving will have had a great effect on you, but you do understand you played no part in his choice to leave?" He stopped, realising how his words could have been taken the wrong way. "What I'm trying to say is…everybody in the building knows how much Booth cared about you. It was bordering on predatory. One wrong look and he had guys backed up against the water cooler with handcuffs on." Cullen sighed. "I gave you his number, and contact details. Did you talk to him."

Brennan nodded. "Yes. I was in France and I went to see him.

Cullen looked surprised. "Oh." He opened his mouth as if he was about to add something more, but he didn't. It took him a few seconds to collect himself again before he continued. "And?"

Brennan flushed, and looked down at her lap. "He's moving on, and I should too, right?"

What happened next surprised even Brennan. Cullen, with a big snort of amusement, switched from professional, to office gossip. "No offence to you, Doctor Brennan, but that is the biggest load of bullshit I have ever heard." He spotted the astonished look on Brennan's face. "Booth? Moving on from you? That's funnier than half of the crappy jokes I see on the walls of the men's toilets every day. Booth isn't moving on. No way."

Brennan was so surprised she forgot to be indignant. "How do you know?"

"I just…I just know! Seriously, you think he's moving on?"

"That's the message I got."

He exhaled deeply. "Doctor Brennan; for everything I like about you, you can be overly stubborn, cold-hearted, awkward and annoying, but despite all that, Booth loves you. If I've learnt a thing or two about love after twenty five years of marriage, it's that something like that doesn't go away just because he's moved to Europe."

Brennan sighed awkwardly. "Things…happened. This isn't a normal situation. "

"With you and Booth? How could it be?" Cullen chuckled to himself. "Look, Doctor Brennan, say if I sound too Hallmark, I'm probably not as good as this as your friend- Angela?- is, but you…you did me a favour helping me with my daughter's case, so let me give you advice. Love doesn't mean never having to say you're sorry, or any of that crap. I've found that love means never giving up. And if you love Booth, why the hell are you even thinking about giving up?"

Brennan's jaw slackened and she stared at Cullen. "I…it isn't giving up, exactly, sir-!"

Cullen shrugged. "Seems like it to me." He leaned forward a fraction more. "Imagine this a case. The climax of the case, where you're learning everything and piecing it all together in that smart-ass way of yours. Something seems missing, or wrong, or doesn't fit. You going to screw everything and forget about it?"

"I can't forget about it." Brennan said quietly. Cullen nodded.

"So do something about it." He told her simply . Without another word, Brennan got to her feet and left the room. Cullen, watching her leave, sighed, and picked up the phone, and began dialling.

Brennan sat at the table in her kitchen, and slowly sealed up the letter, smoothing down the edges of the envelope to emphasize to herself how final this was. She held the envelope in her hands, and although it was virtually weightless, she could almost physically feel the burden it carried; weighed down by her words, her neat script spanning across the sheet of A4 paper, and again, slightly messier, on the older, torn piece of paper, folded in half neatly. The sun was beginning to set, and her apartment was lit with the soft glow coming from the lamps on available surfaces. Taking her pen, Brennan neatly printed the address on the front of the envelope, and the name: Mr Seeley Booth. She held it for a few more seconds in her hands, then got to her feet, and went to post her letter.

Dear Booth,

It has been three months since I came to visit you at your apartment- and I firstly feel like I should apologise for ambushing you. I shouldn't have turned up so abruptly with no prior warning, and for that, I am very sorry. It wasn't my intention to inconvenience you. This letter is already sounding much more formal that I had planned.

And once again, I am writing to apologise for what…happened. For what I did. You have every right to stop reading now; in fact, I have no idea if you will even be reading this letter. You might have already recognised my writing on the envelope, and thrown it away - it is also a possibility that I decide not to send this letter to you. Well, if that is the case, you wouldn't be reading this, and you wouldn't even be aware of any of this, so moving on swiftly…

I am sorry. So very very sorry, Booth, that I betrayed you in so many different aspects. I betrayed you as a colleague, as a friend…and as more.

I know now, that we were always more.

Even if I had decided not to pursue a relationship with you, I still shouldn't have been so idiotic, I should have come and said goodbye. Even as a friend, I owed you that- that, and so, so much more.

Martin was a mistake. I've said this to you, but I need to say it again. I know this might seem selfish to you, as if I feel the need to explain my actions in the hope that I will feel better about what I have done, but you don't have to worry. That will not happen. There is no way I will ever feel better about what happened. I am writing because I cannot stand the thought of you feeling like you have done something wrong, and when I think about you being upset because of something I did I feel ill. So please, if you are still reading, continue.

You were, of course, right; I was stupid. This kind of thing, I must admit, does tend to alarm me, but if I had you, surely I should have managed? There has always been you. I trust you with my life, and I would happily lay down mine for you if you ever needed me to do so. I should have put my fears aside, and relied on the trust I know I have. Stupidity is something I see every day- something I saw every day, with the cases we dealt with, and it was something I didn't understand. With your help, I was beginning to understand people doing things based on their emotions, but things based on pure stupidity? That I have never understood, that I have mocked, and now it is something I am forced to see and acknowledge in myself.

It has taken a while but I have realised many things recently. I have held on to my fears for so long now, doubting even the people I trust, never taking great chances in my personal…romantic…life, but now I know that you were the chance that I should have taken. Having you with me has made my life a better place. I know we argued, about everything from cooked fruit in pie, to who was the better driver, but all those things are just what made us us. You were always there for me, and you didn't have to be. Some people would have held me and my problems at an arms length, too scared to deal with them, but not you. You seemed to see past everything I have tried for so long to hide, and you got past my defences. I don't know if you have ever known that, but it is true. But there are parts of me I never thought I'd have to face, demons and fears I thought I wouldn't need to confront. I was wrong. Stupid and wrong. My fears make me, and they are part of my past, part of me. They will always be there, but I know now that they were controlling me. You always said nobody would ever be able to control me, that I would always be in control. My fears have controlled me and I never even knew. I was always afraid. Afraid that if I admitted that we were so much more than friends, actually allowed myself to get immersed in our relationship then maybe you would find somebody else, or maybe I would do something. Maybe something would happen, maybe the line would come back? And then everything would have been ruined, all on some chance that went wrong.

You said that you would have looked after me if it would have gone wrong. I believe you. Angela says that once a couple have been in a relationship then they can't do "the friend thing." Maybe we could have? You said that I am strong, when I came to visit you. I don't know about that, but I do know you; and you are strong. I trust you entirely and…maybe if I'd have known all of this a few months ago, then I wouldn't be here, sat with my "what if's" and my "maybe's", writing this letter. Maybe I would be with you, one way or another?

Like I said, I am not quite naïve enough anymore to expect you to properly forgive me (stupid, scared, wrong and naïve- quite a collection) and I know that, after everything I have put you through, I can't expect us to fall into a relationship, and live happily ever after. That doesn't happen even with the most normal of people. I miss you. I miss everything about you. But it isn't just the more recent parts of our time together that I miss; I miss our friendship too. I know it is a lot to ask, but I would at the very least like us to be friends. I can't force you, and I respect that it is a decision that you alone can make, but it would mean a lot to me. I…I don't know what that will mean to you, but please, think about it. I do miss you. I miss our bickering, I miss the way you fill up a room, I miss your voice, I miss your smile and your life and your nagging. I miss your hand on the small of my back, helping me, guiding me. I miss how possessive you can be. I was talking to Cullen today- I'm not sure exactly what he means about you pinning people up against the water cooler because of me??

Speaking of Cullen, I've told him I'm not going to do field work anymore. It wouldn't seem right. I walked past your office on my way out of the building; it's so empty now. I couldn't just take on another inspector and go out there and carry on. Maybe once, a long time ago. Not now.

I've enclosed something that I'd like you to read. I have never shown it to any other person. I have been hiding it ever since I wrote it. Some of it may not make a lot of sense, but I doubt Hodgin's did, either. I know you know he wrote Angela a letter; we both wrote letters. Did you ever wonder what was in mine?

Here it is. No more secrets.

Please think about it. Call, any time, day or night, or write back, or email. It doesn't matter.

I miss you.

I love you.

Yours always,

Bones.