A/N: You like me! You really like me! Lol...sorry, just a little Jim Carrey moment (from The Mask--I love that movie!). But I really am overwhelmed by the reviews you all are leaving...so many nice things to say about my crazy little story. I can't possibly say "thank you" enough times to thank you all properly for the support! But I can--and will--continue to torture you with new chapters without...like this one. And no hints about future sections either. You'll just have to keep reading to find out what happens :-P

Ready?

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"Hey Bones, we got a case…"

Booth's voice sounded almost normal, booming across the lab as he swiped his Jeffersonian ID through the card reader. It was almost like nothing had happened between them, as if the argument out on the sidewalk in front of Wong Foo's was some really bad dream, from which Brennan had woken up safe and sound.

Almost.

Then her eyes met his and she knew it was all true. They really had confessed their love for each other in the middle of the dinner rush. She really had disclosed her new-found feelings in a straightforward, unemotional manner, and he really did push her away and insist that he wasn't a good enough man for her.

How can someone of his character think he isn't a good man? she wondered for the billionth time since it happened. After all the things he's done for me? And then there are all the things he's done for people on the job, too…

He made his way across the forensics platform, unable to maintain eye contact with her as he drew closer. His heart ached so much he couldn't even form words to describe it—a real, physical pain developing in his chest. He wanted to yell, to cry out, to curl up in a little ball and scream in frustration at the sight of her. God I love her…and she loves me! He shook himself mentally and forced his mind back into focus. This is for her protection, he reminded himself. I can't hurt her if we're not together.

"What do we have?" she asked, keeping her voice steady as he came to a stop in front of her.

He flipped open the manila folder he held and quickly outlined the case. "Skeletonized remains found in a corn field in Harwood, Maryland…"

She listened to his voice, but the words didn't register. Instead she focused on his hands as they moved in rhythm with his speech, still clutching the case folder. Her brain was flooded with memories of those hands touching her, resting on the small of her back, grasping her elbow, brushing the nape of her neck. She remembered the times his arms had slipped around her…watching movies on his couch…sitting together at the Jefferson Memorial…after David broke up with her. She kept going back to the way she felt in those arms, her cheek on his shoulder, his heart beating in his chest, assuring her that whatever the problem was, he would be there to help her though it.

No one else has ever touched me like that before, she realized. Not since my parents disappeared. No one has ever been close enough to me emotionally to make me feel this way just by coming into physical contact with my body. She frowned and tried to pay attention to what he was saying, but discovered she couldn't. All I want is for him to touch me that way again…hold me they way he did when we danced in my office…I want to feel that he loves me…

Brennan frowned again and shook her head in attempt to clear it. "Okay, so we're taking a trip to Harwood."

"Yep," Booth confirmed. "Get your stuff—we're going for a ride."

She stripped off the latex gloves she'd been wearing and headed for her office, while he remained on the platform to wait. He watched her walk swiftly and surely through the lab, his eyes following her until she disappeared from view. When he could no longer see her, he sighed quietly. She won't look at me for more than a second or two, he mused. And not in the same way she did… His mind wandered back over all the times she'd looked at him in the way that only she had ever looked at him—when he did the "Walk Like An Egyptian" dance at the American History Museum, when he told her about his nightmares, at the baseball game with Parker. Sometimes her eyes would grow soft and bright, sometimes she'd smile gently or laugh cheerfully, and sometimes she even blushed. But every time she looked at him that way, he could see her love for him expressed in every feature.

Not anymore, though.

The rest of the day passed with wretched slowness for both partners. Their conversations remained painfully professional, their speech patterns clipped and curt, their contact with each other minimal. Brennan did her thing, while Booth did his. Separately.

They rode back to the lab together that night, exhausted, dirty, frustrated, and silent. When they arrived, Booth pulled into the parking garage and hopped out of the car, walking Brennan through the structure to the lab entrance the way he had done thousands of times before, unable to turn off his concern for her. He even reached a hand toward the small of her back out of protective habit until he remembered that he no longer had that option.

This is going to be so much harder than I thought, he discovered. I don't know if I'm strong enough to do this… He peeked at her out of the corner of his eye, studying her body language, her facial features, her eyes. His heart ached even more intensely and his own eyes closed briefly against the pain. She's so calm about the whole thing, he mused. Then he realized that he was wrong. It wasn't calm that he saw in her demeanor. It was the wall she had built around herself. That wall was just starting to come down! It took so long for her to let me in as much as she did, and now that's all gone—we're right back to where we started. He glanced at her again and frowned, angry and sorrowful all at the same time. Should we still be working so closely together? Is this really the right thing to do?

"Well, here we are," he said as they walked into the lobby of the Jeffersonian, his voice gruff with hidden emotion.

"Here we are," she echoed, her expression neutral.

An awkward quiet hung in the air for a moment, then Booth cleared his throat. "I guess I'll go then. Just, uh…" He paused and pressed his lips together. "Just let the security guard walk you out to your car when you leave," he finished softly.

She watched him turn resolutely and was suddenly aware of so many feelings swirling around inside her. I really do love him, she thought slowly. And he loves me back. Isn't that supposed to be a good thing? Instead, we're not together, we're not even speaking outside of absolute professional necessity. What kind of life is this? I was better off before I loved him! Her eyes followed him out of the lobby, noticing his hands stuffed deeply into his pockets, his slumped shoulders, his slightly bowed head. I want to go to him, she reflected. But he knows so much more than I do about this kind of thing. And he would never do anything to hurt me…he's always trying to protect me. Maybe being apart really is the best way to handle this situation.

She sighed and headed off in the direction of her office. I trust him with my life, she decided. I can trust him with my feelings too. As much as it hurts, I'll respect his wishes.