A/N: I am so sorry that it has taken me so long to update this story. Things went a little haywire with the muse for a bit, but we are getting things back on track! Thanks once again to everyone that has read, and to those that have provided great feedback and encouragement. It means the world! -Ana

It was all her fault. She hadn't been prepared to see him there at the airport, never anticipated the strength of her reaction to him. With thousands of miles between them, she had been sure that she had analyzed every complexity of her emotions. Suddenly turning to find him standing a few feet away, every piece of logic she'd cobbled together flew apart in the face of one simple truth. She loved him. The certainty soared through her, overwhelming every nerve ending and silencing every thought, until the moment it collided with the decision she had made. It should have taken hours for her life to change, but it had only been a fraction of a second. Long enough for her to falter. Enough time for him to notice.

…aren't you happy to see me…

She knew she'd hurt him, and not just with her hesitation. All of it—the extended silence from Peru, not telling him she was coming home, her apparent reticence to fall into the familiar patterns of their relationship—all of it had caused that wounded look in his eyes, the one that he tried so hard to hide.

He understood her too well not to know that something had shifted between them, and she had been too off balance to maintain the pretense that it hadn't, was struggling too hard to gather the scattered rationalizations she needed to shore up her defenses.

The decision she'd made was the right one, made for the right reasons. She had to believe that, for both of their sakes. But it was going to be so hard to explain, to find the right words to tell him. How was she supposed to tell the man she loved—the man that, for all of her shortcomings in deciphering human behavior, she thought loved her right back—how did she tell him that she was leaving?

…whatever it is…just tell me…

Eyes still closed, she could sense him waiting, watching as he waited for her to answer his question. Taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes, her gaze falling first to his hands gripping the scarf and shirt she'd given him. A lifetime ago, she had worried over her choices—one seemed too distant, too much a gift between colleagues, the other a touch of whimsy that spoke of a deeper understanding. Only now could she see how each represented the two layers of their lives together, how…

"I'm too late, aren't I?"

Startled by his words, she looked up quickly, meeting his eyes, and knew that she couldn't keep this from him any longer.

"No, Booth. Not you. Me. I'm the one that…"

His short, sharp laugh stopped her, moving her back a half-step.

"Wh-what? Booth, I…"

"Spare me the 'it's not you, it's me' speech, okay? It's been done." He paused and closed the distance between them. "And we—you're better than that."

He was so close she thought she could see her own reflection over the flare of hurt and challenge in his eyes. Her resolve weakened, and in that moment, she wanted nothing more than to reach for him, to soothe the tension from the planes of his face and tell him that everything that was in her heart. She started to speak, moved her hand towards his, but then, he stepped away.

"Still can't say it, Brennan? Why don't you let me give it a shot?" He turned away from her, placing her gifts on a nearby table as he moved deeper into the room. "You're leaving, aren't you? Going back to wherever the hell it is you've been since…"

His back to her, his words faded into silence. She didn't question how he knew. Of course he did. Somehow, he always seemed to know.

"Yes."

She saw him flinch as the single word, softly spoken, landed hard in the space between them.

"It is only a few months. A year at most. And I won't be in Peru, but…"

He interrupted, turning back to face her.

"Does it really matter, Bones?" He began pacing the length of the room, arms moving as he talked. "You're really going to leave the Jeffersonian, the squints and…the cases. Just like that…"

"None of this is easy for me. You have to know that."

He stopped short, crossing his arms his arms over his chest as he studied her face. For a moment, she thought there was a chance that he understood at least that much. Then his face grew still, and he spoke.

"I don't know, Temperance. Sounds pretty straightforward to me. Seems like you made your decision without too much trouble."

His words stung as she remembered all of the sleepless nights she'd experienced and for the first time, her anger rose to meet his. She stalked over to him, unwilling to concede one ounce of the difficulty she'd faced in making that decision.

"That—that is not fair, Booth. Not true and not fair!"

"Hey, don't talk to me about 'not fair', okay? Not fair is my partner deciding to walk out on me without even talking to me first. Not fair is the hearing that the woman I…"

The sentence went unfinished, his eyes widening and then dropping to the floor. The unspoken words rang in the silence, dousing the anger and frustration that had risen between them and drawing her closer to him. Given the circumstances, she knew it was selfish, even cruel to ask it of him, but she wanted, needed him to say those words. Gently, she placed her hand over his.

"The woman that you…what, Booth?"

Not at all certain that he would answer, she waited, her gaze fastened on the hand she still held. She heard the deep, unsteady breath he took and saw the contraction of muscle along his jaw, and started to step away. But his hand turned, tightened on hers and drew her closer. There was one more moment of silence, one trace of his thumb along the back of her hand—and then he raised his eyes to hers.

He didn't say the words, but he didn't have to. His face stripped of the defensive anger, of every shred of self-protection that he had mustered, it was all there for her to see. Raw and unadorned, it flowed from him with a clarity that left her breathless. Love. Need. Desire. Everything that she felt magnified and reflected back at her with such intensity that it blinded her to anything else.

Heart racing, her eyes drifted to his mouth as she leaned into him, falling into the memory of his lips on hers. So close again. All she had to was….

She came to her senses, backing away as she realized what she had almost done.

"I'm sorry, Booth. I shouldn't…I shouldn't have done that."

He looked at her, one moment stunned at the swift change in her demeanor, then next, grim acceptance taking hold.

"That's what this is about isn't it? Why you are running away?"

"I'm not…"

"I knew it! Knew this would happen if we ever…that damn prank of Caroline's. It should have never happened. One stupid move, one stupid kiss and….it leads to this."

"It wasn't stupid. Not to me."

"No. No, it wasn't. But what is it going to cost us? What is all of it going to cost us in the end?"

"Booth…"

She moved away, unable to face him because now, after this night, she knew the answer to his question. Her eye fell on the bright blue of the shirt he'd discarded and she absently reached for it. She continued, her fingers blindly creasing and folding the soft fabric as she spoke softly.

"While I was away, I thought about us. A lot. About our partnership, our….kissing you, what it meant. How I felt. How I felt about how I felt. It became this endless…" She sat down on the sofa with a heavy sigh, remembering the confusion of those days. "I couldn't concentrate, and for awhile, I was completely irrational about all of it."

"Now why do I find that hard to believe?" He raised an eyebrow as he sat down across from her.

"Well, maybe I exaggerated a little." She offered a wry smile in return, grateful for the small interlude, before returning the matter at hand. "But it wasn't easy, Booth, not at all. There I was in this beautiful place, these amazingly preserved sets of remains to study, a fantastic job offer on the table. And the only thing I could think about was you. But in the end, I knew that even though I was in love with you, I had to…"

"You love me?"

The blend of hope and confusion on his face made her ache inside. God help her, she hadn't meant to say that, hadn't wanted to make this any more difficult. But now that she had said those words, there was no way she would ever, could ever, take them back.

"Yes."

"And you're leaving anyway."

"I have to."

"Why? If you meant what you said, if you really…"

"Because it's not enough. Please understand. I need to know that I…"

She stopped talking as he grew still, his eyes shuttered with a blankness that she'd never seen. And she knew then that she had chosen the wrong words. There were a dozen explanations full of painstaking logic behind them, but he wouldn't hear any of it. Not now.

The only thing that he heard was that he wasn't enough.

"Well, then. That says it all, doesn't it?" He stood and began to walk towards the door. Away from her.

"Booth, wait. Please, I didn't mean that you…"

"Temperance. Stop. Don't you think—I think maybe we've both said enough."

She started to respond, not wanting him to leave, not like this. But she saw the wet sheen in his eyes, and even as his features blurred under the weight of her own tears, she knew he was right. Talking wouldn't accomplish anything more than it already had.

"Alright then." He accepted her silent acknowledgement with a short nod and then left, the door closing softly behind him.