Sorry bout the repost, but the site just keeps swallowing words and urls. Hope you guys can see the pic now.

OK, for some reason this didn't get displayed earlier, but this chapter is dedicated to the delightful Socks900, who always has something nice to say- even when there is less than a paragraph to say it about.

To all of you who still can't view the image, since the site keeps eating up some portion of the url: i49 . tinypic dot com / 2ag55hd. jpg

A/N: Thank you all for the awesome reviews on that last chapter! This is just a little filler piece to tide you over. The next one is going to have a major kickster (kicker, Bones) that I hope you'll enjoy.

For those of you who complained you couldn't open the link to the picture of how I picture Booth in this story, here it is again: distilleryimage1. instagram ee02a1b8df4c11e18ac522000a1c 9e07_7. jpg Just remove the spaces and you're good to go. BELIEVE me, I look at it often enough.

Chapter 11

The Certainty in the Doubt

About a week later, Brennan was becoming steadily more frustrated by Booth's behaviour. After that night when he'd come to her room, he had studiously avoided almost all contact with her, barely seeking out her company: unless, strangely enough, she was occupied with some other task-like homework, or articulating the bird skeleton she'd found on the terrace. Even then, he was quiet and brooding, and when she took a break from her work she could see the tension in the line of his shoulders or the set of his jaw, his expressive eyes a shade darker than usual. On a few occasions she had looked up to find his attention focussed on her, those darkened, intense eyes holding her still in their impenetrable gaze, but then he would hastily look down at his magazine or-on one occasion, even abruptly leave the room before she could find her voice or any words to go with it.

When she got home one evening after spending several hours sitting through a lecture at the museum, Brennan found that she was absolutely exhausted.

'Booth!'

Tossing her coat over the back of an armchair as she entered the house, she made her way to his room, picking up a copy of the book she'd been reading along the way. He wasn't there. Great. Heading to her own room, she freshened up and after a quick change of clothes, settled on the couch in the living room to read her book. About a quarter of an hour later, Booth walked in, tossed his keys in the bowl, made a vague gesture in her general direction that could have passed for a wave, and disappeared into his room. Brennan remained seated for a few moments, unsure of how to proceed. Oh, this is ridiculous. Then she pushed off the sofa and rose to her feet, making her way to his bedroom.

She stopped in the doorway to observe him for a moment. He was sitting in bed, his back against the headboard, reading one of those car magazines he loved so much. Her exhaustion over the day's events and Booth's distant attitude finally caught up with her, and Brennan pushed off the doorframe she was slumped against and made her way over to the bed. Without a word, she sunk down on the mattress next to him.

His arm automatically reached out to hold her in place as she settled comfortably against his side. Booth continued his distracted perusal of the magazine, as Brennan contentedly snuggled into him, tucking her head under his chin and propping the book on his chest so she could keep reading. However, from the moment she had moved to touch him he was more than acutely aware of how long he had been deprived of that particular pleasure, and his hand automatically started rubbing lightly along her shoulder.

'Booth?'

His hand had of its own volition taken to stroking her hair now. 'Hm?'

Brennan found it hard to concentrate as he gently massaged her scalp. She paused to collect her thoughts, almost afraid to speak. She was desperate to maintain this peace between them that had been all but absent for the past few days. It seemed so fragile and tenuous that she couldn't help but worry that words-any words that weren't in the right combination exactly-might cause it to shatter completely-and then they would be back to the state of strained tension that had become the norm over the past week. Booth turned to look down at her as she snuggled closer and closed her eyes, resting her head on his chest completely, the book going slack in her hands. He lifted it from her tenuous grasp and and tossed it to the side with his magazine.

'I was going to go to the bookstore but-mm…that feels nice…'

Mindlessly, he turned to his side, pulling her into him. He was vaguely aware of his own laboured breathing as she spoke next. 'I don't think I want to get up now'.

His voice in her ear was a desperate whisper, a plea, a demand, and a wish all at once. 'Then stay.' God, stay forever. He hadn't intended for it to sound so seductive, but he was hardly aware that it had. Brennan relaxed her hold on the book she was still holding as he nuzzled her neck. 'Stay.' He commanded again silkily. He then buried his face in her hair and inhaled deeply, completely distracted. He hadn't touched her in too long. And now he couldn't stop. For that one moment, he was struck by how easy it would be. God, she looked, smelled, and felt absolutely incredible…so soft, and warm, and delicious. He wanted her so much it was unbearable. Bones hummed happily at his continued ministrations, her eyes blissfully closed, completely at ease and unaware of his inner turmoil. And it hit him then with sudden clarity that he could take her, if he decided to-right then, right there. But he didn't just want her then. He wanted her always. He needed her. He loved her. He couldn't live without her.

Fuck.

'I need some air'. Abruptly, he rose from the bed and bolted out the door, not stopping until he had burst through the front door and into the lawn. He couldn't think straight, couldn't move straight. He couldn't form a single coherent thought. He looked upwards blindly and reminded himself to breathe. Hastily, he swallowed lungfuls of the evening air, his breath coming in shallow, hoarse gasps. He felt sick. Sick with wanting her, sick with himself for wanting her, sick with how he was dealing with wanting her-just sick. The attraction between them was infinitely strong and irresistible, and pointless to deny. He suspected she wasn't aware of the intensity of her own response to him, and she sure as hell didn't understand how she affected him. Lord, even he didn't understand how she affected him. He hadn't thought about it before-he tried not to think about it…how she always matched him step for step, in everything-he really did try not to think about it…but she was so responsive, she would be-no. Stop. Stop, stop, stop. STOP. Even now he was battling the insane desire to just go in there grab her, kiss her, tell her what she meant to him-if he could ever find the words-wait for her to respond and then make love to her. He had the strongest desire to just know. He straightened up from the position he was in, hands resting on his knees for support and turned towards her as she rushed out on to the porch steps. Booth. Her mouth silently formed his name.

He had to know.

She stood there silently for a moment as their eyes met, as if satisfying herself that he was alright, before rushing towards him. 'Booth?' He still didn't know what to do.

A/N:Ooh,there's a little cliffie for you right there.I wonder if it's related to the twist in the next chapter. Hm...

:D I like being mean. :) It's so much more...me. You know what else I like? When Booth is mean. Yeah. To other people-not Brennan. With her he tends to get hurtful and spiteful and vindictive. He's gonna change that soon. *hint hint*. Also expect to see more of a recurring character we've already met. Can anyone guess who it is?Whoever gets it right will have the next chapter dedicated to them.