(After the Hole in the Heart)

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I don't own Bones.

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Stunned, Booth left his neurologist's office and walked out into the parking lot. Like a rusty automation, he moved over to where his SUV was parked and stood next to it for a long time. A horn blaring on the road next to the parking lot stirred him from his morbid thoughts and he realized that he needed to get back to work.

Fumbling with his keys, he finally managed to get the door open and slowly he entered the truck still in a daze. After he placed the keys in the ignition, he sat there staring at the traffic passing in front of him. Tears finally escaped his lashes, he leaned over the steering wheel and cried.

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After he left the neurologist's office, he drove over to the National Mall, parked his truck and wandered around the reflecting pool. Once he got to the steps leading up to the Lincoln Memorial, he sat down and stared at the reflecting pool. The sun overhead was bright and the day was very warm, but Booth actually felt cold.

His headaches had been bad for the last two weeks and he'd become concerned enough that he'd made an appointment with his neurologist. Dr. Latrobe had asked him a series of questions and filled with concern for his patient, he'd made an appointment for Booth to get an MRI. He tried to assure Booth that it was just precautionary, but Booth could only see the dark side of his doctor's caution. His tumor might be back.

His life was finally where he wanted it to be and he wasn't sure how to handle this. Brennan had given him a chance and they were in a relationship. How could he tell her that it might be a short relationship after all? What if he died? He was worried that she might think of it as abandonment and he was afraid for her.

Not sure what he was supposed to do or say, he decided not to say anything for the time being.

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Listlessly stirring some sugar into his coffee, Booth stared at the spoon as he rotated it in the cup. Puzzled with his behavior, Brennan became concerned when he continued to move the spoon around in the cup. After two minutes of repetitive stirring, Brennan reached over and placed her hand around Booth's hand, stopping him from any more stirring.

A little dazed, Booth looked up and frowned. "What?"

"Booth is something wrong?" Brennan watched him move his hand from her hand and remove the spoon from the cup, slowly placing it down on the table.

Afraid to say anything about his upcoming MRI, Booth picked up his cup and sipped some of the hot beverage. Her crisp blue eyes penetrating into his fog, Booth placed the cup down and attempted to smile. "No, everything's fine."

Slowly shaking her head, Brennan leaned back and stared at her boyfriend. "I know you, Booth. Something is wrong. Tell me what it is . . . do you regret our relationship? Are you afraid to tell me that we made a mistake?"

Appalled at her questions, Booth reached across that table and grabbed her hand. "What are you kidding me? No of course not. Don't even go there."

Her anxiety growing, Brennan turned her hand in his and clutched it. "Tell me what is wrong, Booth."

Not sure he could tell her without being emotional about it, Booth stared at their clasped hands and refused to speak.

A feeling of dread threatening to overwhelm her, Brennan placed her free hand over their clasped hands. "Booth, no matter how bad your news is, you need to share it with me. Is it Parker or Hank? Has something happened to one of them?"

He knew he was scaring Brennan and he needed to stop it. "I've been having headaches. A lot of them lately. I went to see Dr. Latrobe and . . . and he wants me to do an MRI. He wants to see if it's back . . . the tumor . . . it might be back."

"Oh Booth." Brennan felt on the verge of tears, but she knew that would not help either one of them. "When is your appointment?"

Booth cleared his throat and swallowed. "Tomorrow morning."

Her thoughts racing ahead, Brennan nodded her head. "I will go with you tomorrow. We will face this together."

Afraid of what another brain tumor would mean, Booth cleared his throat once more. "I'm sorry, Bones. It took us so long to get together and now . . . and now we may not have very long . . ."

"Stop it!" Brennan's voice had risen louder than she had meant it to, causing heads to turn and stare at them. Realizing that she was attracting unwanted attention, Brennan lowered her voice and leaned closer towards Booth. "One, we don't know if your tumor has come back. Two, if it has then more than likely it will be non-malignant. Three, if it is malignant there is a chance it can be removed and you will not be bothered with it afterward. Four . . . four, no matter how much time we have together it will never be enough Booth whether it is six months or six years or sixty years. I love you and I want us to have a long and happy life together and we will, Booth. We will."

His love for her just seemed to never stop growing. Booth smiled. "Sure, we'll get those sixty years. Of course I'll be 100 and you'll be 95 and we'll probably be eating baby food by then cause we got no teeth, but what the hell we'll still be together."

Brennan had always thought her boyfriend's sense of humor was odd and that's one of the things that endeared him to her.

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That evening, they lay in bed together holding each other. "It's crazy, you know." Booth slowly rubbed his hand up and down Brennan's arm and kept his voice soft. "It took so long for us to get together and I've never been so happy. You make me so damn happy and I don't want to leave you, Bones."

Lying partially on Booth, her legs tangled with his, Brennan fisted his t-shirt and tried to assure him once more. "Booth just because you've had an increase in headaches doesn't mean your tumor is back. You have been under a lot of stress the last three weeks. You were chasing Brodsky, he threatened to kill you . . . in fact he did try to kill you and killed Vincent instead. You caught him, but you had to shoot him and I know you hated that part, though luckily you didn't have to kill him to stop him . . . We've crossed our line and we're in a relationship . . ."

"Bones, no way that last bit is stressful." Booth didn't want her to think he was having second thoughts about their relationship because he wasn't. "I'm happy, Bones. Really really happy."

Brennan was happy too, but she knew that there was stress between them. "We're very independent people, Booth. Of course there is stress in our relationship. We're still trying to figure out our living arrangements, so I know you are under stress. I am not like your previous girlfriends and . . ."

"Bones, come on." Booth hated to see her worrying about anything let alone their relationship. "We're going to work it all out. We're the center and we're going to hold. Sure we've been bickering a little bit more than normal, but we've never lived together before and we have to get used to each other. We'll make it."

Brennan snuggled against Booth. "Of course we will."

Oooooooooooooooooooo

Booth had the MRI done and both he and Brennan sat in Dr. Latrobe's office waiting for the final verdict. Unable to sit still, Booth's right leg bobbed up and down, his poker chip clutched tightly in his hand. He was so nervous he thought he might throw up and he knew that would be very embarrassing if that happened.

Aware that Booth was a bundle of nervousness, Brennan finally moved her chair closer to his chair and placed her arm around his waist. "I'd like to take a few extra days off next weekend and go somewhere. I could buy us plane tickets for St. Croix and we could spend the weekend just lying on the beach, drinking rum and perhaps swimming. Although if we go swimming I don't think we should drink too much rum. I don't want either of us to drown. That would be an unsatisfactory end to an idyllic vacation."

His eyes twinkling, Booth laughed. "Bones, that sounds like a great idea. Not the drowning part, but the rest of it. It sounds great. Maybe you could use your fame as an author and get us a great room at one of the hotels at maybe a famous person's discount."

Before she could comment on his obsession with discounts and coupons, Dr. Latrobe entered the room. "Seeley great news." The surgeon sat down behind his desk. "It's not a brain tumor."

Filled with relief, Booth's leg stopped bobbing. "Really?"

"Yes, really." The surgeon smiled. "I think your very stressful job is causing the headaches. The MRI doesn't show anything that we need to be concerned with. Take a vacation. Go somewhere peaceful and relax."

"That is exactly what we are going to do." Brennan smiled at Booth. "We are going to go on vacation and we are going to have fun."

Ecstatic, Booth stood up and pulled Brennan into his arms. "God this is great. We're going to get our 40 or 50 or 60 years together, Bones. Baby food and all."

Brennan laughed. "Perhaps but I will pass on the baby food unless we have a baby of course. I personally do not plan to eat any no matter how old I get."

"A baby." Booth kissed her and grinned. "We can work on making one of those when we go on vacation if you want to."

So happy, Brennan returned his kiss. "Yes, you can make a direct deposit this time."

Confused, Booth shook his head. "Um . . . okay, what?"

Brennan laughed. "It's something Angela told me a long time ago. When you offered to give me your sperm to make a baby, Angela said you should make a direct deposit."

A slight blush on his cheeks, Booth shook his head. "Of course she did."

Dr. Latrobe found it very amusing that he had been forgotten by the couple. "Well, Seeley, I hope I don't see you again until your next scheduled appointment."

Booth released Brennan and turned to face his doctor. "Thanks, Doc. That's the plan."

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