A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews! There's been a fairly mixed opinion about who (if anyone) was in the wrong, but hopefully the conclusion will be to your satisfaction either way. :) Oh, and ANON, you pretty much hit the nail on the head in your review! Thanks!

Chapter 18 - Outcome

The persistent ringing of her doorbell woke Brennan from her well-deserved slumber.

Groggily, she cracked an eye open as she tried to get her bearings, but felt somehow disappointed in herself when she saw that she was lying on top of her bed-covers, apparently too exhausted to get into bed, and still dressed in the loose slacks and baggy tee that she had changed into for the long drive back to DC. Looking up to check the time, she wrinkled her nose at the sensation of the wet fabric against her cheek, realising that it'd been years since she'd cried herself to sleep.

Her frustration at her emotional state was not helped back the fact that her clock read 11.26pm, with her unknown visitor deciding to wake her up just as she was about to embark on a long and desperately needed night's sleep. When the bell stopped, she briefly considered rolling over, putting the pillow over her head, and letting whoever was outside wait till morning, but duty won out when they started knocking firmly on her front door.

Sighing in annoyance, she swung her legs out of bed, feeling herself wobble as she stood but making it to the bedroom door nevertheless. Her heart sank a little further when she looked out into her lounge, which still showed the evidence of the fight she'd had with her attacker two days earlier. Shards of glass and splinters of wood were intermingled with books and papers which had been strewn across the floor in the struggle, and Brennan started to wish she'd cleaned it up before crawling into bed, if only to have avoided dealing with the memories again in the morning.

Her attention was distracted by another shrill ring of her doorbell, the person outside evidently having given up on knocking, and she continued in her path to the door, skirting the edge of the room to avoid the carnage which had been inflicted upon her bookshelves, and opening it tiredly.

The vision of Booth standing in her hallway was not a surprising sight, but that still didn't mean it was a welcome one.

Eyes hard, she scanned over him quickly, taking in the two gray crutches which he leaned on heavily and the new blue splint on his ankle. The tanned skin around his left eye was starting to darken into a bruise, although the discoloration was barely noticeable with the heavy bags under his eyes, and his wrists bore thin red marks which matched those on her own arms. Instead of arousing sympathy, however, his injuries only acted as a reminder that he had been fully able to prevent everything that had happened to both of them.

Resisting the urge to slam the door in his face, she moved to block the way in, standing between the door and the frame as she asked coldly, "What do you want, Booth?"

She expected him to be uncomfortable, to shift slightly as he answered or to look away from her gaze, and so was taken aback as he stood still, his eyes locked on hers as he asked calmly, "Can I come in?"

A petulant 'No' danced on her lips, but she instead matched her demeanor to his, adopting his quiet confidence and self-assuredness with chameleon-like ease as she opened the door wordlessly and moved to lean against the back of the sofa. She watched silently as Booth limped inside, a plastic bag swinging from one of the grips of his crutches and his jaw clenching in frustration as he found he was unable to close the door behind him.

Finally pushing it shut with his elbow, he shuffled further into the room, his eyes widening as he surveyed the mess of her apartment. "Bones, you should've got someone to clean this up."

She folded her arms across her chest, the baggy t-shirt bunching under her breasts. "I had more important things on my mind at the time."

"Right," he responded briefly.

Brennan half-expected it to be followed by a 'Sorry' and felt a strange rush of irritation when it wasn't. Looking at him icily, she decided to cut to the chase, "Booth, if you've come to apologise, I don't want to hear it. It's late, I'm tired-"

"I haven't come to apologise."

Her eyebrows shot up at the comment, anger rising in response to his lack of contrition. "Then why are you here?" she inquired bitterly. "Did you forget to tell me about another part of your plan? Were you the one behind the attempts on my life too? You think it would be fun to watch even more people try to kill me?"

Booth's lips tightened at the accusation and he replied levelly, "You don't mean that. You know I didn't want to see you hurt."

"Do I know? Really? Because after what you told me today, I don't know what you think anymore." She shook her head, looking at him with disgust, "You didn't need to let them go that far. You could've stopped it, and you didn't."

"No, I didn't," he agreed simply. "I'm not apologising for what I did, Bones. It was the only way to put the Dellatos in jail where they belong, and I would do it again in a heartbeat. I know you got hurt, and believe me, I didn't enjoy seeing it happen, but there was no other choice."

"You could've told me," she shot back, betrayal rising to the surface again. "You could've let me know what was going on, and what you were planning to do. You didn't need to leave me in the dark like I couldn't be trusted."

He sighed, infuriated. "It wasn't a matter of trust and you know it. It was too risky to tell you; the Dellatos could've picked up on something between us, or they might not have believed you if you'd pretended to be scared."

"Oh, and Zach was completely convincing?" she spat sarcastically.

"Zach didn't know," Booth replied, becoming gradually more frustrated. "I just told him to go to the Dellatos and then do what they said. He was just as scared as you were in that clearing."

"He had a safety word! You both did! All you had to do was say it and you knew you'd be safe." She took a step closer to him, the hurt clear in her eyes as she asked, "What was I supposed to do, Booth? Just wait till you thought I looked scared enough?"

"What do you want me to say to you, Bones?" he shot back in reply. "Tell you I wish I hadn't done it? Because that would be a lie."

Gritting her teeth in anger, she glared at him. "Is that why you came here? To rub it in my face that you were right? Even Zach thought what you did was wrong."

"Zach?"

Pleased to have caught him by surprise, she gestured to a small bunch of flowers that had been temporarily left in her sink. "Yeah, Zach came by as soon as I got back. He left me those and he apologised for what happened." Her tone turned bitter, "Guess it was too much to expect the same from you."

Booth raised his eyebrows, his voice almost mocking, "You wanted that? Since when were you the kind of woman who wanted flowers and platitudes? Sure, the kid can apologise for what happened, but he wasn't the one whose job it was to keep you safe. Yeah, I'm sorry that you got hurt, and I'm sorry that the Dellatos went after you in the first place, but I'm not sorry for what I did. I don't know what else you want from me, Bones, but I'd never lie to you for the sake of it and I'm not about to start now."

"You managed to lie pretty well for the last two days," she said quietly, her voice lower but still seething with anger. "You want to know what I want from you, Booth? I want you to get out."

The order hung in the air between them for a few moments, stubborn gazes locked together as they both fought to leave the argument victorious. Brennan felt a rush of triumph, therefore, when Booth broke away first, looking down at his crutches as he took an awkward step toward her.

However, his eyes then returned to hers again, filled with determined confidence. "Because you're angry at me, right, Bones?" he asked again, frustration breaking through as he spoke. "Because as far as you're concerned, I betrayed you. I put you in danger for the greater good. I stood by and watched as the Dellatos hurt you. I didn't tell you what was going on, and I let you think you were about to die." He took another step forward, his eyes and voice tinged with disappointment as he asked simply, "Can you tell me you wouldn't do exactly the same?"

Instinctively opening her mouth to counter his challenge, she instead found herself choked by realisation. Dropping her eyes from his in shame, she fell silent as the comparisons seemed to fall into place, each hammering like a guilty verdict instead her head. She remembered her own plans two weeks earlier, which had seen Booth brutally tortured so she could get the evidence to arrest some of his kidnappers. She recalled the feelings of betrayal he'd told her about at being left to suffer at the Dellatos' hands. Finally, she thought back to the conversation she'd had just days earlier, when Booth had described how he'd feared for his life because of her actions.

Fully aware of the hypocrisy of her anger, she slowly lifted her head to face him again, struggling to find the words to say and preparing herself to see the smug satisfaction on his face. But for what felt like the hundredth time that evening, Booth surprised her yet again.

His expression was one of compassionate understanding as he dipped his head close to her, unable to use his hands because of the crutches but somehow bringing her up to face him fully. With the barest hint of a smile on his lips, he said softly, "I'm sorry you had to go through it as well, Bones, but please understand that I had to do it. It was the only way-"

"To keep me safe," she finished, equally quietly. "I remember that reasoning." Her shoulders sagged, all feelings of hurt and indignation now replaced with guilt and annoyance at herself. "Booth, I'm-"

"No," he interrupted gently, giving her a small smile. "Neither of us need to apologise. We've both been there and know how difficult the choices are. I know there's no way you can be happy with what I did to you today, but as long as you understand why I did it, that's enough for me."

"But what I said-"

"That's enough, Bones," he repeated, his voice firmer but still oddly soothing. "Neither of us need any more justifications or recriminations today. It's over; the Dellatos are going away for a very long time, all the squints are safe, and both of us are home in one piece." His gaze darted over her shoulder to her lounge as he added with a smile, "Even if your bookshelf isn't."

A matching smile played on Brennan's lips too as she glanced over at her barely-standing bookcase. "Zach offered to help clean it up before he left, but I told him it could wait."

Booth nodded in agreement. "It can definitely wait. Finding a home for your Culture Studies of Outer Mongolia should come way below rest and recuperation on your list of priorities."

She smirked slightly as she replied teasingly, "I was resting until you showed up."

His expression became instantly apologetic. "Oh. I'd thought you'd still be awake what with the hospital and everything..." Realising his sentence wasn't going anywhere, he glanced back down at his crutches, speaking quickly as he started to move to the door, "I'll just go and leave you to it."

The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them, "Booth, wait." Turning round with difficulty, he stood in her hallway, waiting expectantly as she tried to find the right words. "I, uh, I'm glad you came," she stammered eventually. "We needed to talk."

He nodded, the relief on his face undoubtedly mirroring her own. "That we did." There was a brief moment of silence before his memory suddenly kicked in. "Oh, I almost forgot..." Balancing on his good leg, he quickly maneuvered the small blue plastic bag off the handle of his crutches, playing with it anxiously as he said, "You know how we used your scarf to tie up the guy who attacked you here?"

"Let me guess, the FBI cut it off him when they took him to the holding cells?" she inquired with a smile, trying to forget that this was her favorite scarf which also happened to have cost $600.

Booth practically winced at her deduction, but didn't deny it, "Yeah. Anyway, I picked this up on my way over here tonight, and thought you might want it."

Nervously, he walked back over to her and handed her the bag, instantly retreating again as he explained, "I know it's not as nice as your other one, but I swear I'll replace that one when I can. It's just, it was late and I didn't know where you bought it and my paycheck doesn't come till next week and-"

His rambling was cut short as Brennan said with a small smile, "Booth." She looked down at the pale pink scarf, letting it rub softly against her marked wrists. "It's beautiful. Thank you."

He shook his head, slightly embarrassed about the gift, "It's not like your other one, but it should at least keep you warm till I can buy another-"

"Booth, this one's fine," she reiterated with a smile, wrapping the material round her neck as a demonstration. "You don't need to buy me a new one. Besides, what's the point of having a scarf if it doesn't keep you warm?"

He chuckled, looking up at her with a familiar gleam in his eyes. "Only you would prefer a crappy scarf to a $600 scarf because of the warmth." His smile faded slowly as he stared at her, and he shuffled on his crutches again as he said awkwardly, "Anyway, I should get going. You're tired, and you need to get some rest. I'll swing by in the morning and help you clean this mess up."

Turning round, he was stopped again by his partner's voice, slightly more anxious than before, "Wait." He glanced back to see that she had stepped forward, suggesting quietly, "You could always stay here."

Taking in the glass and paper strewn couch and realising what that meant, he asked for verification, equally quietly, "You sure? The drive home won't take long..."

"You shouldn't drive with that ankle," she said firmly, before her voice dropped to a more personal tone, "And yes, I am sure." Seeing his hesitation, she clarified, "Not for us to sleep together - you're still injured and I don't want to hurt you - but just to..." She gave him a timid smile. "Rest and recuperate?"

She couldn't help but let out a breath of relief when his response was a genuine smile, and she asked teasingly, "Is that a yes?"

"That's definitely a yes," Booth shot back with a grin. "I've been wanting to get you into bed for two days now."

Inexplicably relieved by the return of his usual banter, she led the way to the bedroom as she replied in kind, "You know you just got injured again, yes? If I wouldn't have sex with you two days ago, what makes you think I'm going to be any less worried about hurting you now?"

Grinning at her, he sat down on the edge of the bed with a groan, dropping the crutches to the floor and catching her wrist as she moved past him to flick on the light on the bedside table. Her hands came up to rest on his shoulders as she stood in front of him, his hands nestled at her waist, and she said with a sigh, "We really should go to sleep. And you really are hurt, so forget about anything else."

He sighed in reply, pulling her closer to him as he muttered with feigned pouting, "Spoilsport."

Any future protests were silenced as he leaned up to capture her lips with his, his arms wrapping snugly round her waist when she moved closer to him, kissing him gently from her standing position. His tongue brushed playfully against her lips, wanting access, and when she granted it, his hand slid down to her ass at the same time, giving it a knowing squeeze.

Letting out a surprised yelp, she broke the kiss but made no move to shift his hands to another location as she said with all the seriousness she could muster, "We should sleep."

Booth nodded in agreement, the boyish glint not leaving his eyes, "Yes, we should." He tugged her playfully down into another kiss, his hands running over her curves while his lips moved to her neck, his voice gradually losing sincerity as he spoke between light kisses, "We really, really should."

"Booth..." she murmured softly, uncertain whether she wanted him to continue or to stop. Finally deciding that sleep and healing time were more important than her partner's entirely injury-free lips, tongue and hands showing her exactly what they could do, she moved back, instantly regretting it as the cold air replaced his kisses. Swallowing hard, she looked at him with her best stern demeanor, "Wait till tomorrow."

Smiling at her efforts, he conceded, his own tired body feeling the effects of the day's exertions, "Alright. I can wait till tomorrow." His grin became teasing again as he shrugged with mock innocence, "Although, as we've barely left each other's sight since the end of our date on Friday, this is still technically our first date." He gave her a wink. "Never would've had you down as one of those girls, Bones."

Slapping him lightly on the arm, Temperance briefly considered whether two days of fleeing from killers, hiding from the FBI, and dealing with the repercussions of secret plans could actually be considered a first date. As Booth's lips met hers, however, she quickly came to the conclusion that, even if it had counted as a first date, it would be the last first date she would ever have.

The End

And it only took five months to get here... :) Thanks so much to everyone who stuck with this story or picked it up again recently, and I'd be really grateful if you could leave one final review.

Author rambles: I'll be starting work again on You're Lovely to Me very soon, so if you feel inclined, please check it out (under the M section of the main page despite having very little smut in it...) I'm also planning on writing a smutty epilogue to another one of my old fics (Walk on the Wild Side) which should be posted soon on the Anti-Boneyard and possibly here too, so keep an eye out for that as well if you remember that story (and aren't underage...)

Thanks again for reading!