A/N: One shot, set after 6x9 (The Doctor in the Photo). I actually don't like that episode that much, but "Bartender" by James Blunt inspired me to make something out of it… :) It's not directly a songfic per se because I hate it when the lyrics interrupt the story, so it's really just based on the lyrics. Check the song out if you don't already know it! (This will be a series of song inspired one shots, so give it a follow if you like!) Please leave a review, I love reviews!

She was right. The world had turned upside down. Her words catapulted him into an alternate reality. He answered on autopilot.

She's not a consolation price. I love her… Last thing I wanna do is hurt you, but those are the facts.

There she was, her shell cracked, no more place to hide, confessing everything she kept to herself. She had put her brain in neutral, heart in overdrive - gave him everything he ever wanted from her. And what did he do? He came at her with bare obnoxious facts. He had fought so hard to break through to her emotional side … and now? As soon as the words had left his mouth he hated himself for his reaction. He did love Hannah. But that didn't mean that he loved Bones any less. He would never not love her and he was so aware of that fact right now that it crushed his heart to see her cry and not being able to hold her like he wanted to. He even made it worse, when he pointed out that he had been able to adjust. He hated how bitter and distant he sounded, blaming her for everything that happened to them after the night in front of the Hoover. Well, at least she rejected him out of love, to protect his feelings - she just wasn't ready. But he just managed to come up with a ridiculous excuse for a gentle let down.

She chuckled at his bitterness: Yes, you did. He did what he had to do. Move on. With someone else. Because he wouldn't fight for her. Wouldn't wait for her to catch up. He felt cheap for treating her the way he did.

Booth kept his eyes focussed on the road, his lips pressed together, clenching and unclenching his jaw in time with his breathing. Hearing her sighs and sobs, he bumped his fist against the steering wheel. He had had it. He knew they were on a knife-edge. She'd told him she'd be fine alone, but he didn't believe her. She could be alone, but she wouldn't be fine. How could he treat her like she wasn't his concern anymore? He simply had to. For Hannah's sake.

He stepped on the gas pedal, wanted to get home as soon as possible and go to sleep. Maybe in the morning, this would only turn out to be a bad dream.

…

Brennan got a grip on herself. She compartmentalized and if their partnership was affected or damaged to her in any way, she concealed it quite well. The FBI hat its rules for a reason. No fraternizing with other agents or consultants. She realized how ludicrous their endeavors with each other were. She realized, that she was right: relationships caused unnecessary pain and there was a damn good reason why she couldn't connect her mind with her emotions. She was better off alone.

In the next couple of days, no one noticed how everything between her and her partner was actually altered. It was all a façade, they've put on a good face.

He still felt guilty for being pissed, which he still was at the same time. Also, he had lost his remarkable ability to look behind the walls she used to build. She shut him off, he couldn't break through. It felt as if the ground was cut from under his feet and for the first time he got a taste of a reality without her. He didn't like it.

Booth gathered some courage, willing to mend bridges, and walked into her office. She stood behind her desk, sorting some files.

"Hey Bones, do you think we could have a drink after work? Go to a bar?"

She raised her head and put the files back on her desk. Her eyes were quizzical as she tried to read his intentions from his face, before she slowly nodded.

"Yes, I think we could do that. Will Hannah be there as well?"

"No, no…", he mumbled. "I thought, maybe… just the two of us, you know, we used to hang out after work. Enjoying a cold beer or two, having a little small talk…" He knew he was moving on thin ice and felt a knot in his throat straining his voice.

Brennan furrowed her brow. What was he after? Well, there was just one way to find out…

"Yes, sure."

…

For some time, they sat in awkward silence, Booth's eyes on her face, hers on her beer, her fingers fiddling with the label on the bottle.

"I missed this…", he finally said.

Brennan looked up, her eyes meeting his. She pressed her lips together and nodded, merely noticeable. She had missed him, too. But the need to protect herself from being hurt by his constant presence had been overwhelming so far.

"And I'm sorry", he continued.

Brennan took a deep breath.

"You don't have to apologize for how you feel, Booth. Or for how you don't feel, for that matter." She returned her attention to the label.

"Bones", he whispered as he placed his hand on hers, interrupting her nervous fumbling.

"I never said I don't feel anything for you anymore. But I can't switch back and forth between my emotions for you and Hannah…" His eyes darted around the room nervously, as if he hoped that the right words he was looking for so desperately would suddenly just appear somewhere in the air.

"Then don't."

Brennan kept her focus on her bottle. She couldn't stand it anymore. Every day he was right under her nose, but he was not hers to have. She didn't get to wrap her arms around him, bury her face in the crook of his neck to draw in his intoxicating scent. She didn't get to be the one he came home to. The one who'd ease the stress of the day away by curling up next to him on the couch and listening to his worries. He wasn't hers to have but it sure as hell felt as if he was hers to lose.

"Stay with her, but…" She inhaled sharply, trying to prevent her voice from cracking. "But give me the chance to heal, Booth. I don't want to talk about this anymore. I'm done with this topic… I think I'm done with us."

At her words, Booth felt as if his heart just skipped a beat before it was brutally ripped out of his chest - and that was when he eventually realized that he didn't want a life without Temperance Brennan in it.

"No, c'mon you can't be serious… Please, Bones. Temperance, look at me!"

His voice was strained as he got more and more panicky.

Finally, Brennan turned her head and met his gaze. She stared at him for a while, right into his pleading eyes. Hers were reddish and bleary, and when she decided to break the silence she couldn't hold back the tears anymore. They ran down her cheeks, leaving wet, salty trails.

"What do you expect me to do, Booth? Do you believe this is easy for me? Do you think I find it enjoyable? Because I don't! It's crushing my heart. But so is doing nothing and pretending everything is fine. I'm not as strong as you think and I'm sorry, but you can't have it all. You gotta lower your sights."

Tears of sadness turned into tears of anger as she came to realize that Booth's entitlement mentality was pissing her off.

He leaned back and stroked his hands across his face.

"You're right", he whispered wearily. "I can't have everything."

In need for something stronger than beer he ordered two glasses of whisky as the waitress passed their table.

"So do you want me to decide between you two?"

"No!" Brennan frowned. She was a rational person, but coldhearted and evil calculation was nothing like her. "That is my decision to make. I want you to be happy. And if you're happy with her, I feel happy for you. Even if it makes me sad at the same time. Even if it means that I have to let you go to protect myself." In an effort to numb all those feelings she allowed to surface, she downed the whisky that just arrived and ordered another one instantly.

Booth chuckled slightly. Tormented.

"Then why does it feel like I have to make a decision as well?"

He took her hand in his, his thumb drawing small caressing circles on her palm.

He couldn't tell if it was the alcohol or the fear of losing her forever that drew him so close to her right now. He wanted to hold her tight and never let her go. But he just held her hand, his eyes focussed on the table.

"I'm sorry for causing you pain. I'm sorry for pushing you and not giving you the chance to catch up. I'm sorry for leaving. I got it all wrong." He sighed. "You loved me, but you weren't ready. And I turned away and hurt the person I love the most…"

"Booth" Brennan looked at their intertwined hands, processing the fact that he spoke in present tense when he talked about love.

"Don't make it harder. I know you're not a bad person and you deserve happiness. You deserve whatever she can give you. Whatever I can't. I will adjust. But I need time." She wiped a silent tear from her face.

"And space?", he asked, downing his second whisky, ordering a third round. His heart physically ached. How could she possibly believe she couldn't give him what he wanted?

Because your beautiful blond girlfriend implies it and Bones is oblivious to her effects on you, you fucking imbecile, he thought to himself.

Brennan tilted her head.

"Space… Maybe, yes. Time and space."

Booth closed his eyes and took a breath.

"But not tonight. Let's forget everything tonight, ok? Let's just drink."

And so they drank. And as they drank, they started to relax - a little more with every sip. Nostalgia overtook them and brought them back to late night visits with takeout, back to guy hugs and shared secrets. They lost the count of the drinks they already had, but with each he moved a little closer to her. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the clarity that settled in, now that they finally revealed the unspoken, their feelings for each other. He still held her hand as they were talking and recalling past cases. He allowed himself to disregard his girlfriends existence for now. Now, he just wanted to enjoy the company of a girl he used to know. Before Maluku and Afghanistan. Before Hannah. Before he screwed up by bringing his rebound girl back home with him.

"You dropped me on the head, Booth! I had a bump for five days!", she laughed.

He nudged her shoulder with his and joined her laughter.

"Oh poor thing! I had a bleeding flesh wound because Wonder Woman here shot me! Where did you actually keep that gun by the way?"

Before she could answer, they heard the background music and shot each other a knowing look.

"That is…", she started, and he finished her sentence:

"Our song Bones! Hot Blooded!" A smile curled his lips and he moved a little closer to her ear. "We could dance!"

Brennan giggled and shook her head. They were at a bar, not alone in her apartment or at a convention. She was nowhere near sober, but definitely not inebriated enough to make a fool out of herself in public.

"Ok, just let me hold your hand a little longer, will ya?", he sighed and looked at her, his eyes almost begging for her to stay close to him. Hers shimmered like a topaz blue wellspring. She tightened her grip around his hand and a shy smile curled her lips. By now, Booth had just enough control over himself left to restrain from leaning in and kiss those tempting lips.

"I know we shouldn't be doing this. It's not rational. But right now I find your close proximity very comforting. Although I'll probably regret it tomorrow when I'm sober." She chuckled and finished her drink and so did he.

"Bones…", he started, always focussed on their intertwined fingers as he brought up his other hand to put it gently around her wrist.

"I wanna forget everything that has been. I wanna go back to the night in front of the Hoover and say something different. I wanna forget that I've been to Afghanistan, you to Makapoopoo or whatever. I don't want a life without you."

Brennan closed her eyes, considering what to answer, while Booth ordered another round.

"I still don't have an open heart like yours, Booth. I don't want a life without you either but there's just so much attached. Things I can't deal with right now. But maybe it's just temporarily. Maybe, after some time, we can be friends again who can manage to be in the same room together."

Booth downed his shot.

"No, Bones, just no. I don't want `maybe´ or `after some time´. I spent my time here drinking, trying to give me some liquid courage to tell you something from the heart. But with every drink I keep falling in love with you all over again and that makes it not easier to say what I want to say. I miss you. Like I never missed anyone in my life."

He puffed his cheeks and held his breath, not really believing that those words actually came out of his mouth. Slowly, he dared to look at her face. She stared at him in shock, her mouth opening and closing again. Before she could make up her mind and decide what to answer, he leaned forward and pressed his lips firmly against hers. There was no tenderness in his kiss, no softness, no hesitation that asked for permission to continue this manifestation of intimate affection. It was rather a statement, emphasizing what he wanted to tell her so badly.

I don't wanna spend my life without you. I've made a decision.

She didn't ask him to make it. It was hers alone. She'd never force him to decide between the two of them. Even if the odds were in her favor, she would not play a game like that. But in fact, Booth had made that decision once before.

I'm with Bones, Cam. All the way. Don't doubt it for a second.

Nothing had changed, he was still with her, and he realized that he would always be.

Brennan was unable to move as his lips lingered on hers, hard and assertive. She neither pulled back nor gave in. He caught her off guard, but she immediately understood his underlying intentions.

When he slowly let go of her, his eyes met hers - glazed under the influence of the amount of alcohol, but he also saw confusion.

"Don't say anything. You don't have to. Just let me tell you something. I don't wanna have any regrets either. I'd choose you. Over and over again. You bring out the best in me, and you bring out the worst in me - sometimes I don't know if I want to kiss or rather choke you."

He chuckled, still not believing his own honesty.

Again, Brennan couldn't fight back the tears, overwhelmed by his words and what they might entail. Her mind was a confused entangled mess and she couldn't pluck a single straight thought from it when suddenly, all emotions dropped from his face, leaving him like an empty canvas. Nothing there for Brennan to hold onto, nothing to interpret. He stared into his empty glass as he spoke up again, his voice cracked:

"I made a mistake, Temperance. I should go home."

Brennan just stared into space, dumbfounded and baffled. She nodded, got up and they left the bar. She didn't know what to think at all, wanted to go home and crawl into her bed to stay there for the next couple of days. No one had messed with her feelings the way Booth did. No one hurt her like him. She didn't say good bye. The cab left, and for the first time she didn't turn around. Booth didn't mind. His thoughts were elsewhere and at the same time with her. He shouldn't be here with her. He should be going home. To Hannah.

…

Clothes were discarded on the floor - she'd pick them up in the morning - before she slipped into some sweatpants and a tank top. The effects of the alcohol hit her once she tried to lay down in bed. Suddenly the room was spinning, the walls were turning and just laying there felt like a roller coaster ride. Brennan was exhausted and tired, but sleep wouldn't take pity on her. Maybe something to eat could help. Absorb the alcohol, calm her nerves. So she headed for the kitchen, when she heard a knock on her door. Knowing but not quite believing who was on the other side, she hesitated. Maybe she was delusional? No. Again, a knock. She moved slowly towards the entrance, letting him in wordlessly. He couldn't possibly cause her more trouble than he already did.

"What do you want, Booth?", she asked as he simply stood there, softly smiling at her, his hands in the pockets of his suit pants.

"I thought you made a mistake…", she continued, her tone clinical and her face blank.

The smile vanished from Booth's lips as he slowly realized her earlier misunderstanding. He released a breath he didn't know he was holding, dropped his shoulders and moved closer to her, one hand reaching for her shoulder. She eyed his endeavor suspiciously, but let him do as he liked.

"Bones…", he whispered. "You got it all wrong. I wasn't talking about you and what I'm feeling for you. I didn't mean that when I said I made a mistake."

Brennan frowned.

"What was your mistake then?"

"Leaving D.C. in the first place. Thinking I could go on without you. With someone else. Believing that I could replace the woman in my dreams with another one to make it come true. But it's not about living my dream. It's about living with that particular woman. You. I can't have the dream without having you. And if having you means that I have to go for a different dream, than I will adjust. I'd do anything for you, Bones."

She was dumbfounded. Again. For the umpteenth time that night.

"I wanted to come here with a clear conscience. So I went home, you know, to talk to Hannah… I spare you the details for now but… mind if I crash on your couch tonight?" He smiled and arched an eyebrow at her as his hand trailed from her shoulder down to her hand.

She stood in front of him, almost paralyzed, as she bit her lower lip. Her teeth left painful imprints on her flesh. So much to process… Slowly she allowed herself to lift her gaze from the floor to meet his eyes. She needed to see him, needed something to cling to. His eyes were warm and dark and so familiar assuring. Everything about him was so familiar to her. The slight hint of a smile spread across her lips.

"I wouldn't mind. But your back probably would…" She took a step towards him and brought her hands up to rest on his broad chest. He put his around her wrists, holding them tenderly in place as he leaned down a little so his forehead rested against hers.

"That's too bad…", he said, his voice raspy and merely above a whisper. She could smell the whisky on his breath, it intoxicated her even more than she already was. Her evening had been an emotional roller coaster so far, draining and exhausting, and now he was here. In flesh and blood and hers to have. She closed the distance and their lips met for the second time this night. This time, it was tender and full of affection. Her lips brushed his briefly with the timidity and innocence of a very first kiss. A kiss that sent butterflies to the stomach and tingles down the spine. A soothing sense of home and belonging washed over her, and she smiled at him as she answered.

"I believe if that's bad or not depends on the alternatives. Come with me."

She tugged at his hand and he followed her closely into her bedroom, grinning mischievously and completely content as he kicked the door shut behind him. Whatever the barkeeper poured out that night, it definitely cleared his mind and brought him finally back to where he belonged.