A/N: I was completely BLOWN AWAY by the response I got to this story. So, at the behest of many reviewers, I am going to make this a three shot. I hope that everyone will review this chapter too! Lots of reviews motivate me to dedicate more time to writing!

It had been three weeks since his conversation with Cam, the conversation that continuously ran through Booth's head like ticker tape.

It had been sixteen days since Hannah suffered a gun shot wound to the thigh. The injury wasn't as serious as originally thought. With the help of Bones' expertise, they'd determined that the bullet had merely nicked Hannah's femur without fracturing it. After a brief hospital stay, Hannah returned to Booth apartment, able to walk with the aid of crutches. Her convalescence meant Booth spent little to no time with Bones outside of work, and he found himself resenting Hannah for that.

Tonight was another in a string of many sleepless nights for Booth, his mind working tirelessly on the quandary at hand. He had crept out of bed quietly, as not to wake Hannah, and sat on the living room couch. Booth pulled a box of photos that he had stashed in his entertainment center alongside some VHS tapes that he couldn't manage to part with. He retrieved a photo of him and Bones taken at the reopening of the Egyptian exhibit a year prior. Booth sat for a moment just staring at the photo, conjuring up the memory of that night. They had felt like a couple that night.

"Seeley, what are you doing up?" asked a bleary eyed Hannah, limping slightly.

Booth jump and quickly slid the picture under some papers on the coffee table.

Booth considered his answer carefully before responding. He could tell her that he'd needed to use the bathroom or heard a suspicious noise that needed investigating. Instead, he told her the truth.

"Just thinking."

Hannah nodded sadly, "About us?"

"Yes," Booth replied softly.

"It's not me it's you, right?" Hannah said with a self deprecating smile.

"It's not you," Booth said adamantly.

"No, it never was, not since I came back to the States, that is."

Booth looked at her, puzzled.

"This is about Temperance, right?"

Booth's eyes widened. Of course, Hannah had noticed. She was a journalist; she made her living observing. Yet, Hannah had chosen to stay. She had gambled on him and hadn't been ready to give up on her bet yet.

"Yes," Booth replied.

"When you told me about her in Afghanistan, I didn't think it odd that your best friend was a woman. I figured that Temperance was like me, a man's woman. I have always had more male friends, but I don't look at any of them the way Temperance looks at you."

"What?" Booth asked incredulously.

Booth had anticipated a biting comment about - how had Cam put it? – him looking like a "lovesick puppy" in Bones' presence.

"Do you really not see it?" Hannah asked, laughing dismissively.

Booth shook his head tentatively.

"When I asked her advice about a house warming gift for you, she looked like someone had just run over her dog."

"But she told you about the phone anyway?" Booth inquired.

"Yes, she was so animated talking about that damn phone, it almost seemed wrong for it to come from me rather than her."

Booth thought back to when Hannah had presented him with the phone or rather when he'd taken notice of it in his living room. She had given Bones credit for the idea, and when he thanked Hannah for the phone, two voices said "You're welcome."

"Temperance asked me to be certain before moving in with you. She said that you would give yourself to me completely, and it would be painful for you if I wasn't serious about the relationship when you were."

Booth dropped his head. He could see tears beginning to form in Hannah's eyes.

"She had no idea how wrong she was," Hannah said with a resigned sigh, "Temperance didn't know that couldn't give yourself to me. You already belong to her."

"I'm sorry, Hannah. I'm so sorry," Booth said reaching for her hand.

Hannah pulled her hand away, "I know you are, Seeley."

She stood and said, "I will leave in the morning."

Booth nodded, "You can stay longer if you want to. I can stay with Jared or at a hotel."

"Don't be ridiculous. I probably never should have come barging in on your life in D.C. anyway," Hannah said bitterly.

"You didn't barge in," Booth insisted.

Though, in a way, she had. He couldn't have been more surprised when Hannah had shown up at the diner two months ago. Despite what he'd told Bones – and everyone else, what he'd had with Hannah in Afghanistan was little more than a fling. He had enjoyed her companionship, but he'd never really expected to see her again.

"Do you think if we'd stayed – you know what? Never mind. It doesn't matter. Like I said, I will be gone in the morning," Hannah said before retreating to the bedroom.

Booth buried his face in his hands. Cam had been right; he wasn't one to be careless with other people's hearts, but that is exactly what he'd done. Now, Booth needed to atone for that. He didn't know exactly how, but he would repair what he'd broken in at least one case.

The next morning Booth awoke crammed in Parker's bed. He stumbled groggily into the living room. On the coffee table, Booth found a note in Hannah's familiar loopy handwriting.

"Seeley – Tell everyone at the Jeffersonian that I said goodbye. Don't fuck it up with Temperance."

The note was stuck to the photograph he'd been looking at last night. Booth crumpled up the post-it note and threw it in the waste basket.

"I won't," he said aloud.