Angela hung up her cell phone. She smiled at it for a few seconds, then put it in her pocket.

"What's going on?" Hodgins asked. She and Hodgins were getting ready for bed. Their flight would leave in the morning. From the look on Angela's face, Hodgins could tell that something good had happened.

Angela took off her robe, revealing a tiny black teddy, then slid into bed next to her [new] boyfriend. "Booth flew to Brazil to get Brennan. And Brennan flew to DC to get Booth. She just landed in Brazil ten minutes ago."

"Wow..." Hodgins said. He digested the news for a second before replying, "That's hot."

"Cold shower hot," she agreed.

Hodgins shook his head adamantly, "No. That's roll-me-in-honey-and-throw-me-to-the-strippers hot."

Angela rolled her eyes and reached over Jack, pulling on the copper light room immediately grew dim. "Good night, Jack."

"You can't possibly expect me to restrain myself under these conditions," he said, tackling her to the bed and kissing her deeply, affectionately, lovingly.

--

By the time Booth arrived in Brasília, it almost one in the morning. The temperature was barely above sixty-five and a light rain had begun to fall. The poor guy was suddenly immersed in a foreign culture where everyone was speaking in Portuguese and he had only learned one word up until that point: No.

For a moment, he began to wonder what in the world he was doing half-a-world away from his comfort zone looking for a woman that could be anywhere in the city.

Maybe he should forget about 'surprising' Brennan, piece together the shattered remains of his POS cell phone, and give her a call asking for directions?

"That sounds romantic," he told himself sarcastically. "Hey, Bones, I'm here to tell you I love you. Could you give me directions to your hotel?"

"Need help?"

Booth turned to see Sonja standing behind him. She stood at least a head shorter than him.

"Yeah, I don't exactly speak Portuguese and I have no idea where I'm going."

She tipped her head toward the street. "You can share the taxi fee and I'm sure we can get you to the police station or morgue or something."

"I think this is the first time I've ever wanted to be at a morgue at one in the morning."

"That makes two of us." She looked Booth over. "Got any bags?"

"Just me and my suit. Didn't even stop to grab a tie."

"You must really love her."

"You have no idea."

--

She was out of her element. She had to think like Booth. Where would he be at one in the morning at a strange city? If he knew the name of her hotel, she'd have bet on that. But he didn't.

She laid out her bag in the hotel room and took a moment to look at herself in the mirror. She had thankfully gotten some sleep on the plane over and had changed into a black cotton dress. She thought twice about showering, but decided against it. There was no guarantee that she would find him anyway. In a city of two and a half million people, he could be anywhere.

She locked the door behind her and hailed a cab to the morgue.

The doors were locked, as she expected, but she could see a light moving around inside. She knocked lightly on the door and after a minute, a man came to the door. He gave her a curious look. "How can I help you?"

Brennan explained the reason of her visit.

"An American man was here about fifteen minutes ago. I don't speak English, but from what I understood, he was looking for an antropólogo. I directed him to the Torre Palace. That's where the City of Brasília is keeping Dr. Edison."

"Obrigada." Brennan was running down the steps before the man could mutter a, "De nada," in reply.

--

"Thanks," Booth said to the woman at the front counter. He walked out of the hotel, feeling like no matter where he turned, the world was against him in some form or another. He looked at his watch. It was almost two and his morale as well as his energy was running dry.

He stepped out from beneath the overhang and waved for a taxi. The rain was coming down thicker by that time and he was really beginning to wish that he had had the sense to at least grab a change of clothing. At the time, he didn't exactly think that was important.

--

She jogged regularly. It was a release. She began to jog more often around that second year that she and Booth were partnered... and there was an obvious reason for that.

Now, she found herself running, shoes in one hand, bare feet on cold pavement, rain soaking everything she wore. She was about half a block from the hotel. The cabbie had been beyond exemplary in his inability to get her to the hotel in a timely fashion. So, she paid him and ran the last two blocks.

Through the thick sheets of rain, she could see a familiar shape. It's amazing how every curve, hillock and valley of her partner's body was etched into her memory. Even when he looked like a drowned animal in a wet suit and all fine detail was blurred by the dark night, the bright street lights, and the gray rain, he looked like the man she was searching for all along.

She slowed. Then stopped.

--

Booth reached for the cab's door and swung it open. He moved to sit inside of the taxi, but his eyes fell on Brennan. Although she could look like just about any woman, being that she was half a block from him and she she looked like a fuzzy silhouette, he knew her. He knew her because he loved her. He knew her because he saw her in his dreams as well as the waking hours of the day. He knew her because she was his other half.

He closed the taxi door and the two began to walk toward one another--half in surprise, half in uncertainty.

When she came into focus, he could agree on one thing and one thing only. She was stunning.

The dark dress she wore was clinging to her legs and stomach. Goosebumps were raised in all of the right places. Her hair, which was black and silky when wet, clung to her neck, cheeks, and the nape of her neck.

--

She walked toward him. She stopped a few feet off. It couldn't be him. Although all logical thought pointed to the fact that he was a flesh-and-blood human being, he looked like he had stepped out of her most erotic dreams. His white shirt was unbuttoned for the first three buttons, revealing soft chest hair. The sleeves were rolled up below his elbows. The moisture from the rain made the cotton cling to his tight chest and abs.

And his eyes were full of this amazing love that even she could not deny or play naive to.

But there were still some unanswered questions.

"Why didn't you see me off?"

"I didn't get the note... Why didn't you tell me that you loved me?"

"What?"

"I saw the note you wrote when you were buried in the car." He could hear his heart beating in his ears.

So could she. "How did you get a hold of that letter?"

He side-stepped her question and moved toward her. He invaded her space. She could feel his heat radiating and all she wanted to do was wrap her body around him. But she couldn't help but to try to rationalize everything that was happening. It's how she dealt.

He reached around and pulled her close with his left hand, his hot hand laying against the bare skin of her back. She couldn't help but to try to catch her breath. His touch had that effect on her, making her lung capacity drastically smaller with simple caresses--touching her hand, running his fingers along her arm, up her neck, releasing wet wisps and curls from her neck, brushing her lips.

"You drive me crazy, Bones," he whispered, smiling slyly. "You argue with me. You make me angry. You frustrate me. You make me think twice before speaking. You make me wanna fly across the world for you. And I love you for it."

"That doesn't--That doesn't make any sense," she looked up at him. Her eyes cut through the darkness.

"Yeah, it does. You challenge me. You make me a better man... I love you." With that, he pulled her closer and kissed her deeply.

She let her body meld against his. The cool rain didn't make her shiver as much as him holding her so close and whispering that he loved her.

Although ten minutes had passed between that passionate kiss in the rainfall, it only felt like a few seconds before they were stumbling into her room, removing garments of clothing slowly and falling into bed on top of one another, pulling the thick quilt around themselves. The only sounds to be heard for the next two hours were the sounds of the downpour slowing to a drizzle, tinkling against the table on the balcony, and the sounds of love-making--The occasional sighs of pleasure, whispers of love or beauty, his lips against her satiny skin, feathery kisses to her navel, neck and lips.

And everything stopped. The rain ceased to fall and the lovers laid entangled in one another, exhausted physically, emotionally--in every facet possible.

His breathing became rhythmic and shallow, but for several minutes after he had fallen asleep, Brennan was still awake, her cheek on the bulky rise of his bicep. She had always been the type of woman who was proud of the fact that she was a strong individual and woman. But if that was so, how was it that she felt more complete and stronger when she was nude and laying next to a sleeping Seeley Booth?

Perhaps she was over-thinking, over-analyzing too much?

Perhaps...

"I love you," she whispered. Then closed her eyes and fell asleep.

His lips tipped into a smile.

Thank you all again! :D

-Mama