AN: Thank you for the wonderful reviews. I apologize for the delay in posting, it's been a busy few days.

~OOOOOOO~

At some point, Booth fell back asleep. Bones was warm and solid in his arms and for an hour or two, everything was okay in his world again. This time the darkness was quiet; no memories or difficult history making an unwelcome appearance behind closed eyes.

He woke again when she freed herself from his arms. By the time he fully registered what was happening, she was already out of his bedroom. Sighing, he ran a hand over his face and kept his eyes closed, listening as she kept walking until she left his apartment. The door was closed quietly, but to him it was as loud as a gunshot.

What a mess, he thought. Moving until he was on his back he threw an arm over his closed eyes to further block out the light. He didn't blame her for getting up and leaving, if that's what she'd chosen to do. Nothing like putting her through an emotional hurricane the last twenty-four hours. One that would send her to the North Pole if she decided to go.

Of course, there weren't many skeletons to be found up there. More likely she'd go South. Or to Africa. At least it would be warm when he went after her.

It felt like she was running though she'd clearly told him she had no intention of doing so. But there was a big difference between quiet conversations in the dark and the reality one faced in the harsh light of day. It was only because Booth knew he needed to trust her that he didn't rise quickly and run after her. After yesterday, the person he wasn't sure he trusted was himself.

He'd replayed the conversation over and over again in his head before Charlie raced into his office, and he knew exactly what he'd implied. That her gifts had been nothing but reminders of the painful things they'd been through in the past. Nothing could be further from the truth, though he'd done a good job making it seem that way.

Sighing because he couldn't stay in bed forever, he rolled over to see what time it was before throwing the covers back and leaving the bed. He'd take a shower and then go find her, knowing he owed her a thousand apologies for the previous morning.

He couldn't think right now about the fact he'd admitted his feelings for her after all of that. Later, he'd worry that he'd said too much too soon, but he could only handle one thing at a time right now.

The smell of coffee filled his apartment when he opened the bathroom door and at first, it felt like the day before. Walking slowly down the hall, he turned the corner to see Bones, her back to him, fiddling with two full cups.

The tension in his shoulders eased a little when he saw her there. His head trusted she wouldn't go far, but his heart hadn't been feeling the same way.

Tossed into a corner was a bag from her car and Booth realized she'd only left to get it. Relieved, he stayed silent. Though he wanted to walk up and wrap his arms around her, there were other things he needed to do first.

Hearing movement, Brennan knew he was there. When he didn't speak, she turned to see him moving the record player from the counter where she'd placed it the evening before, back to the center of his table. Tilting her head, she asked him what he was doing without saying a word.

She'd considered leaving the apartment and going straight back to her place. But it went against everything she'd promised herself and him. He said he loved her and while she wasn't sure yet if her feelings could be quantified that way, this relationship was important to her. And she didn't doubt his feelings. So coming back and working through what happened the previous morning wasn't something she was going to avoid.

"This is perfect," he said, placing a hand on it and meeting her eyes. "There is nothing painful about it, other than how I reacted to it." He tapped his fingers, the noise loud in the quiet apartment. "Sometimes, I see something that reminds me of everything we've been through and I worry that our history is too much. We have an intense past, Bones, and though I never want it to, yesterday I let it get in the way of our future."

She didn't speak, but didn't leave either, so Booth kept talking. "Nothing about your gifts has been anything other than wonderful. P.T. Flea is going on the tree as soon as we decorate it," he said, emphasizing 'we' so she knew he still wanted her there. "The skull is right there," he said, pointing to a shelf near his television, "so I can't be in the room without seeing it and thinking of you."

He watched her fingers play with the bracelet he'd gifted her with. "I broke a rule we established yesterday. To wait for explanations if we were confused about a gift. If I had asked you about this one," he said, shifting his eyes down to the player then back up again, "what would you have said?"

Her shoulders lifted slightly, though she continued to twist the bracelet around and around. The last twenty four hours had been long and she struggled to sort one emotion from another. But the reason for the purchase was simple in her mind. "You needed a record player. I did consider that you might ask how I came by the knowledge, but I didn't expect you to be so upset about it."

Lips pressed together, she looked away from him. The words were spoken in an even voice he both loved and hated, depending on when she used it. Now, he knew she was using it to hide how much his comments had hurt her. "I thought it would be something we could do together. And you like antiques."

"Yeah," he said. "I thought it was probably something like that. After I quit saying stupid stuff and took five seconds to think about it." He shook his head in disgust at himself. "I am very sorry, Temperance, for making you think your gifts weren't well thought out and very much loved. I hope that you want to finish the whole Secret Santa thing, but if you want to stop, I understand."

Reaching behind her, she grabbed one of the mugs and took a sip from it. Booth waited, hoping he hadn't screwed up so badly, though he feared he may have, that she wanted to call the whole thing off. There were still two gifts left for each of them and he desperately wanted a chance to see what she'd selected for him.

"I want to continue," she finally said. Her words, while soft, were sure. Another sip from the mug and she placed it down again. "I need to go home and get ready for work. My bag from the car is lacking a few items."

He wasn't sure if her abrupt announcement was a good sign or a bad one. But Booth nodded and retrieved her bag for her, wondering where their relationship stood. He was going to have to ask or spend the entire day worrying about it. When she tried to take the bag from him, he held tight, waiting until she looked at him. "Are we…," he started to say, not sure how he was going to ask what he wanted to know. "Do you want…"

But she apparently did. "Do you trust me, Booth?"

The question caught him off guard, but he'd already answered that question, at least in his own mind, before he'd left his bed. "You know I do." He looked away from her, but forced himself to say the words. "You're the only one," he said quietly, "that I would have let in, that I would have let see me, last night."

The look in her eyes was softer when he dared to look up again. "Last night I told you we were okay. That I didn't want you to worry, even if evidence is telling me you currently are. Do you recall that conversation?"

"Yes." His free hand formed a fist before opening again. "I know you don't lie, Bones, but sometimes it's hard to convince yourself of a simple truth. We've waited so long to get to this point. It's hard not to worry when you know you've messed up big time."

She nodded and Booth realized she was using evidence to force him to come to some sort of conclusion about how much he'd messed this whole thing up. And how much he should worry about where they stood.

"And after you told me you were in love with me?" She didn't hesitate on the words, didn't question his sincerity, not doubting what he said to her in his darkened bedroom. "What did I say?"

He swallowed. He'd remember that moment until his last breath. It was what allowed him to remain in his apartment only an hour before when she closed the door behind her. "That you weren't running. You were right where you wanted to be."

"Then please don't ask me questions about if we're okay or do I want to run," she said, filling in the words to the questions he didn't want to ask. One foot tapped the floor impatiently. "You hurt my feelings, Booth," she said plainly. "Made me question my judgement about the person I thought I knew best. You," she said, making sure he knew exactly what and who she was talking about.

Hearing it put so bluntly reminded him how far she'd come in her ability to express herself. "You're not wrong, Bones. You do know me the best. The gifts you've given me so far prove that." He sighed and realizing he was still holding on to her bag, let go. Close enough to touch, he reached out and took her free hand in his and squeezed it. "Whether or not I meant to do it doesn't matter. I still did it and I'm sorry."

"I know you are. And while I'm not familiar with long term commitments, I fear it won't be the first time something like this happens. I'm sure that I will also unintentionally hurt your feelings at some point. But I'm not going to run away from us because of this. I accept your apology. But I need you to accept exactly what I told you. If I ever decide that I no longer want to be in a relationship with you, I will tell you in terms you will understand perfectly." Slinging the bag over her shoulder, she turned to leave. "I am going now because some of the items I need for work today are at my place. No other reason."

He had no doubt she'd be perfectly clear if she wanted to call this off and for some reason it made him feel a lot better. "Bones, I love you," he said, voice soft. Now that he was free to say the words, he was going to do so as often as he could. "Drive carefully. We'll talk later?" he asked.

"Of course," she answered, pulling the door closed behind her for the second time that morning. Booth stared at that closed door, wishing she'd stayed. Hoping the next time he woke to find her in his bedroom, she'd be in his bed and not across the room in a chair.

As he put coffee cups into his sink, surprised to realize that for the second day in a row he hadn't actually sipped from the one she'd prepared for him, Booth promised himself he'd do a lot better with the rest of the gifts than he'd done with this one.