A/N: First, I want to apologize for the long wait for both this chapter and Doge's next chapter. I am way behind on pretty much everything. As she told you in her latest chapter's author's note. I was in the hospital and is taking me a bit to get back to feeling better. Who knew you could have too much calcium in your blood? Not this girl. I had a bad reaction to a new medicine and it caused all kinds of problems but fortunately, it's looking like no permanent damage.

To be honest, I was going to wait to publish this chapter until I finished the story and wrote the epilogue, but Doge convinced me today that you'd waited long enough and I should just publish it. She's not feeling her best yet either, but we're plugging along at life.

Thank you for all your patience and all the well wishes for our speedy recovery. They are deeply appreciated.

So without further ado here we go...

The Long Way Home

Chapter 8

"Booth!" Brennan turned almost completely around in her seat. "That was my exit." She whined turning back around.

"I know."

"I want to go home."

"I know, but, Bones, we haven't eaten in, God, I don't even know how long, not real food anyways."

She didn't care about eating. He knew why she wanted to go home, at least he seemed to so she couldn't understand why he wouldn't be taking her straight there. Maybe she hadn't made herself clear, she reasoned, maybe she didn't explain it well enough.

"I'm fine, Booth, you can just drop me off at my apartment and go get some food. I'm exhausted and I just want to be home."

"No. Sorry. I'm not doing that." He looked over at her. She looked weary and worn out, but he knew she needed what he had planned more than going to her apartment, alone, tired, and hungry. It's not like she was going to cook herself something. She'd just go to bed starving and miserable.

"Please." She stretched out her one word plea, a hint of doubt in her voice like she knew it was pointless.

"No." He mimicked her long drawn out tone.

They sat there in silence as he drove, exiting the freeway, and winding through the street of D.C.. She didn't say anything, just slumped back in her seat, arms crossed tightly over her chest in protest. Booth let her sulk. He knew he was right about this and wasn't about to change his plans.

Watching her carefully, his attention darted back and forth from the road to her before he finally spoke. "Just trust me, okay? I promise a good meal, a little wine, and then I'll take you home and you'll sleep much better because you aren't starving to death."

"I'm not starving to death." She looked over at him momentarily. "I'm not even starving. To starve to death I would have to have been without food and water for eight to ten days, longer if I had access to adequate water, which I do."

"You know what I meant, Bones. We've had nothing but convenience store food and airport snacks since the reunion."

Back and forth they went, bickering all the way. She tried to be nonchalant about it but he knew she was looking around trying to figure out where they were going. He tried not to smile too big. Where he was taking her wasn't a secret or anything, although, admittedly he was zig-zagging through the city to keep up the mystery. Still, he would've told her if she asked. Her figuring that out wasn't his biggest concern, it was seeing everyones' cars outside and her knowing who was waiting for her inside that he was trying to avoid. He wanted it to be a surprise.

There were two plans. One, if their flight was on time and they could get out of the airport quickly. With light traffic, they might be able to beat their friends to the bar in which case they would eat first and he would have to keep her there until all the crew arrived. The other plan would be for their friends to gather and wait for them to arrive. Unfortunately, they ended up getting out of the airport right in between the two times so he needed to stall a little.

He'd been getting texts from Angela throughout their trip home and he'd been pretty slick about answering without Bones seeing. At least he thought he had. They were almost to the Founding Fathers when he felt the familiar vibration of his cell phone. Bones was watching him closely and he wasn't sure how he was going to read that text without her knowing.

"Your phone buzzed." Her eyes were glued to him and her tone seemed more like a challenge than a casual reminder. "Aren't you going to check it?"

"Yeah, of course. I was just, you know, driving." Booth cringed knowing perfectly well what was going to happen next.

"I can get it for you." She was already reaching for his pocket. Moving quickly, he pulled his phone out switching it quickly to the hand farthest from her.

"You were right, Booth, you're driving. I should open that for you." Her almost sing-songy response made it clear she knew something was up. "I can read it to you and you can tell me how to respond."

"No. I got it, Bones." He tried to keep his tone light.

It must not have worked because as he looked back over at her she was settling back in her seat looking momentarily away. He took the opportunity to glance as fast as he could at the phone and put it back in his pocket. The text was from Angela, as he expected, "we're at the Founding Fathers," it read. This was good news. Unfortunately, he couldn't answer her text, not with Bones sitting right there watching his every move.

He wanted to just tell her what was going on but that would ruin the surprise and he knew she needed that more than she needed to know. Besides, the Founding Fathers was in view now and it was all about not letting her see everyone's cars parked in the main parking lot.

As casually as possible he pulled up into a metered spot at the end of the street and parked. He was hopping out of the car when she stopped him dead in his tracks.

"Why are we parking so far away?"

"It's a good spot. You know there's never parking available closer than this." He turned again to exit the vehicle making it only a couple of inches before she halted his progression again.

"But you didn't even drive by to see if there was parking up there closer. What if there was, what do you call it. Marilyn Day-

"Doris Day, you mean Doris Day parking."

"Yes, that. What if there was Doris Day parking? You didn't even check."

"You're right, you're right, but I think this is a good spot, a Doris Day spot." With that, he flashed his charming smile at her and turned again to get out of the truck.

"This is not Doris Day parking, Booth, this is at least half a block away and I am sure there are closer spots than this."

"I want the exercise." But she could tell by his tone, which was flat and slightly annoyed that that wasn't why. "Look, I was cooped up in the truck for hours driving, then the plane." When she didn't look convinced he continued. "Can you just give me this one and walk with me?"

She rolled her eyes and turned to exit the truck only to pause, watching him jog quickly around the front of the SUV and grab the door handle, opening it so she could get out. Trust, she thought, trust was hard for her, but not with him. She sat immobilized for a minute catching his gaze and holding it. She didn't know how to articulate it. It felt like she didn't know how to articulate anything since their romantic encounter at the hotel. But she knew he was the one person she trusted most in the world. Was that good enough to build a life together?

"You okay, Bones?"

She nodded before speaking softly. "Yes," adding a smile, hoping to quiet his curiosity.

Nothing had changed between them at least it seemed like it hadn't. She thought it would, she thought sleeping together, making love to Booth, would change everything. But Booth wasn't acting any different than he did normally. Maybe he stood closer. He took her carry-on and put it in the overhead for her, he didn't even ask. Controlled fans who approached her, handed her luggage to her off the conveyor belt, opened the car door for her, but he always did those things, or tried, maybe the difference was in her, she thought, because she was letting him.

Walking toward the Founding Fathers, his hand guided her resting on the small of her back, she hadn't been paying attention, she was so lost in thought until he reached past her and the woosh of the door flooded her senses with familiar sights and sounds and smells. People chattering, glasses clinking, silverware against plates, laughter, the wonderfully familiar smells of the bar and food, and as they walked back to the side of the bar where they always sat the squeal of her best friend filled her whole being with unspeakable relief.

"Sweetie!" Brennan found herself wrapped in Anglea's arms so tight she couldn't move if she'd tried. A chorus of greetings overwhelmed her. Calls from Sweets, Cam, Hodgins, and she thought she heard Wendell, all welcoming her home.

"Ange, you can let go now." She leaned back a little, trying to pull herself out of Angela's arms. She became serious and eased her grip only a little.

"We're just so glad you're home." She looked very serious and worried.

"I'm okay, Ange, I promise." Brennan thought she was being discrete and reassuring but something slipped out she realized seconds later Angela would pick up on. "Booth took very good care of me."

Angela looked at her friend, then over at Booth who'd clearly been watching them. He already had a beer in one hand and a glass of wine in the other, ready to hand off to his partner. "What?" but Angela ignored him, turning her attention back to her friend.

"Took good care of you, huh? Exactly what kind of care are we talking about here, Bren?"

Her cheeks start to blush immediately and she stammered around trying to find an answer, "You know Booth ...just ...just Booth type things."

"I'm sure he did." Angela let her go, giving her a look of disbelief and shaking her head. "You'll have to tell me all about that later." Grabbing her hand, Angela dragged her to the table they'd reserved and sat her down where she was surrounded by the team. Her team. Her family.

Booth watched.

This had been a great idea. She was already smiling and laughing, regaled by stories from everyones' high school experience. Setting down her glass of wine in front of her, he stepped back to lean against the bar. Turns out all of them had a Sheriff Rebecca Conway or two at their high school who tried to cheat off their papers. A creepy Andy Pfluger who chased after every girl in school but never caught any of them. A handsome Prom King Brad Benson who all the popular girls fought over. Although, admittedly, no one had a Julie Coyle who literally killed for that opportunity.

All had suffered some sort of ridicule at the hands of other students, regardless of whether they'd gone to private or public school, came from affluence or poverty, were raised in strong families or broken ones. High school hadn't been easy for any of them for various reasons. Obviously, there was lots about her life no one else in their group of friends and colleagues had experienced but it was good for her to know she wasn't entirely alone in what she had endured.

His thoughts were momentarily interrupted when the bartender set two plates of food in front of him. God, it looked good. Real food. He needed it. Gathering up her silverware and plate he squeezed in, slipping it in front of her. She turned toward him and smiled. That smile nearly undid him. How could something so mundane and simple as setting her food down affect him so entirely?

He found himself gravitating to her, standing close then pulling himself away only to find himself right by her side again. And the desire to touch her, to brush her hair behind her shoulders, rub his hand along her back or shoulder. Nothing terribly intimate, just enough to connect with her, to feel connected to her. That's all he wanted. Instead, he ate, busying his hands. The food would do him good.

Sweets was spouting something about time and interpersonal relationships when he wiped his mouth and set his napkin on his plate, pushing it away. He would turn his whole attention back to the group even though all he could think about was having her in his arms again. She was glad to be home, he knew that, but in many ways, he wanted to be back in that hotel room. He took a long pull on his beer. It all felt a little unreal. A single moment, here and gone. If they could've stayed a little longer, at least long enough to talk about it, at least long enough to know where he stood with her, that's all he wanted. Instead, he got nothing from her.

She woke him up with just enough time to make it to the airport. Everything happened fast after that and was so very public. It could've been any other day, any other trip home from another successful case, partners, friends, not even a hint that they were lovers. And he had to admit to himself that maybe they weren't. He knew that when he got into it, he reminded himself, that this might not go any further.

Maybe she would never bring it up. At the moment, he didn't plan to. He didn't want to push her, not after what had happened between them on the steps of the Hoover. Maybe he'd never know what her thoughts were on this monumental thing that had happened between them. And none of that changed the fact that he didn't know how he would manage if that was what happened. God, what was he going to do? Letting out a long sigh, he took another drink.

Angela was very clear, she was never going to go to her reunion. Brennan understood but couldn't help point out that Booth had been right, as hard as it was, it was good to go back. She learned things about herself, realized things about her past, most of all though, she came to understand and value her present. Age brought perspective and as hard as her past was, it was clear that the people in her life now were the people she wanted in her life.

Booth was standing beside her now, stepping close when he couldn't resist the pull anymore. She found his close proximity comforting. He was the reason for her growth. Pushing her but never leaving her alone. Supporting her, he always explained things to her and helped her understand. And as they raised their glasses in a toast to friendship and the people that mattered to her she found herself anxious to conclude the evening and have him take her home.

They laughed and talked for a few more minutes and then she announced she was tired and needed to go home. Angela immediately tried to drag her off to the bathroom but she wasn't ready to talk about what she knew her friend wanted to talk about.

"No, Ange. Not tonight."

"Come on, Bren. We haven't talked in days. So much has happened." Angela grabbed her hand and tugged but her friend was immovable.

"Nothing has happened. What are you talking about?" Angela smirked.

"Nothing, huh?"

"Hey, sorry to break up the fun, but I'm taking this one home to get some sleep." Booth to the rescue. Brennan let out a sigh of relief, pulling her hand loose from Angela's stepping closer to the man who'd saved her multiple times in the past twenty-four hours.

"Killjoy," Angela complained. "Monday, Sweetie, you and me, lunch, and a whole lot of confessing." Booth whisked her away before Brennan could protest. She could tackle that after the weekend.

The quiet of the night surrounded them as the heavy doors of the bar closed behind them shutting the noisy commotion in behind them. Headed to the truck they enjoyed the stillness of the night, both deep in thought as they walked. Booth was surprised when she slipped her arm through his and leaned into him. There was so much she wanted to say she didn't know where to start or if she should disturb such beautiful silence. She was glad they parked so far away. It gave her a little more time to find the words to say what she needed to say to Booth.

"Thank you." She whispered, finally breaking the silence.

"I didn't really do anything." But she knew he had.

"That's not true, Booth. Thank you," They passed another storefront before she spoke again. "We haven't really talked since…." A long pause settling between them.

"I know." He answered when she didn't finish her thought.

"I mean ...we probably should." Nodding in agreement, he let pause in the quiet linger until he was sure she wasn't going to say more.

"I didn't want to push you, you know, to talk about it."

"I appreciate that." Swallowing hard she took a breath. "I needed time to think." He nodded almost afraid to hear what conclusions she'd come to. They were almost to the truck and for some unknown reason, that felt like some kind of deadline to her.

"So, what did you come up with?" He was trying so hard to sound casual but his heart raced with anticipation over what felt like a truly pivotal conversation, one that would change his life regardless of what she said next.

They stopped outside the passenger door, she turned to him and he to her, and he watched as she sucked her lip between her teeth and shifted her weight anxiously. When she looked down at the ground he felt his heart sink. She didn't want to look at him when she broke the bad news, he was sure of it.

"Commitment is hard for me. I have always been on my own and relying on another person, I haven't done that. I don't even know if I could successfully navigate a relationship." He looked so disappointed when she finally raised her eyes to meet his. Heartbroken? Confused? She wasn't really sure but his turmoil suddenly became her own. "Booth…"

"I know ...I know, don't worry about it." He was trying to be brave and all for her, she could feel it. "I know."

"No, no you don't know. Just hear me out, okay?" She cupped his face. "I can't promise you thirty or forty or fifty years," he nodded as she spoke, letting his head fall heavy in her hands. "But I can promise you tonight. I can promise tomorrow. I can promise one day at a time until I can commit to more." He lifted his head slowly, his beautiful dark eyes meeting hers as a smile slowly spread across his handsome face. "Come home with me, Booth." Her voice was soft and vulnerable. "Come home with me and stay."

A/N: So, what do you think? Please leave a review and let me know!