Guest: I was kind of picturing her too, except when she was a little younger cause I don't really like her too much now. Though her lips are wrong, they're a little too big for what I'm picturing. I've been picturing Jennifer Morrison, but she was Jim's mom so I can't do her.

I was surprised to wake the next morning to him stroking my hair. "You didn't leave," I said softly as I looked up at him.

He smiled looking away. "I fell asleep," he told me. Even then I'd known he'd stayed purposefully, I just hadn't known his intentions at that moment in time. On that morning it made me smile.

"I have to go to the hospital," I told him, honestly wishing I could stay; the bed was warm, he was warm, and his fingers were gentle as they ran through my hair. He unwound his arm from around my back and I slipped from beneath the covers and into the bathroom. It wasn't until I stood in front of the mirror that I noticed the purple dots around my hips; I hadn't even noticed how hard he'd held me, I was too lost in him. I laughed silently and shook my head, wondering what I was doing with a man I didn't know in my bed. At least until I put my watch on and looked at the time. I quickly brushed my teeth and threw my hair up before going to the room and putting on some clothes.

"I'm sorry," I said to him, "I should have been at the hospital ten minutes ago. Can you make sure the door's locked when you leave?" I asked, barely giving him a chance to answer before I pulled on my shoes and left.

That was the day the chief of the hospital assigned me a few patients, explaining he was understaffed and I was already here and the cases were simple. By the time I returned to my room my legs were aching from standing for hours from two back to back surgeries.

"You're still here," I said when I saw him, not entirely unhappy at finding him still in room. He had food.

He smiled slightly. "I thought you might be hungry," he said offering me a carton. "And tired."

My smile was actually genuine, I was starving and exhausted; and he really was very handsome. "Thanks," I said before sitting beside him on the bed and watching the news. He asked how my day was and I told him, and he asked about my surgeries. There aren't many people who care to hear about a surgeon's day if they aren't doctors themselves, there's a lot of medical talk and blood; he always seemed fascinated as he listened to me speak. As he questioned me how I would solve a person's sickness, and as I shot through different ideas – he enjoyed my mind, it was his favorite part of me.

"Why did you stay?" I asked him bluntly after we threw the take out boxes away.

He looked at me with narrowed eyes as though he were searching for something in my face. "Why do you find it so hard to believe that I would?" he asked surprising me.

It was a question I hadn't expected, cause he was right. And I didn't really like how easily he had seen through me. "I'm not really the kind of girl guys go for," I told him honestly, my voice hard.

He smiled before stepping to me. "I must say I find that hard to believe," he said lowly. "I rather like you Elenore."

I wouldn't have admitted it then but hearing his grumbling voice and feeling his scorching eyes made my stomach flip – and quite possibly my heart. "I'm not happy and bubbly," I said looking up at him with hooded eyes. His eyes were blazing, burning me, making it harder to breathe.

"No, you're most certainly not," he grumbled stepping closer until our bodies were pressed together. "You're too smart for that."

I smiled briefly, breathing heavily as desire coursed through me. "That's another reason," I said breathlessly feeling his hands firm on my hips. "Guys don't like when I'm smarter than them."

He smiled as he bent his head down, making me arch my neck so as for a kiss. "I guess it's good that I'm smarter than you," he said leaning forward. He pulled my hips flush against his, pressing himself against proving he was as aroused as I was. He pressed his lips against mine, teasing me with his tongue.

He moved me toward the bed, unbuttoning my pants and pulling them off. "They're fools," he whispered seductively, pushing me onto the bed so I laid with my legs off the edge.

"Why?" I asked staring up at where he stood. My heart only beat faster when he pulled my underwear off. It was almost unbearably agonizing how much I wanted him, at seeing how clearly he wanted me from the way his pants strained.

He proved me right when rid himself of his pants. He spread my legs around him and hovered over me, and I could feel how wet I was from how cold the air was as it touched me. "There isn't a single woman who compares to you," he said as he entered me.

…

I got a call from the front desk saying there had been a complaint about the noise that came from my room the night before. They had a right to complain, John had me nearly screaming almost all that night. I've never had my brains fucked out, but I think that night might be what the saying means.

It was late into the night, after finishing our third time, and I laid on his chest nearly panting; and from the rise and fall of his chest he was tired too – though not nearly as worn out as I was.

He had his fingers running through my hair. "You're sad," he said softly.

I had closed my eyes to sleep when he'd spoken and they'd snapped open. "What?"

"You said you weren't happy or bubbly," he said looking down his chest at me with a small smile on the corners of his mouth. "You're sad and you hide it behind anger, and unkindness."

"How," I asked staring at him amazed. "How can you possibly know that?" Not even Jim knew how sad I was, and yet here this man was able to see it; somehow able to see me.

His brows furrowed as he looked at me. "You have no idea do you?" he asked curiously, and I did no more than stare at him waiting for him to continue. "You're so lost in your sadness you don't know how visible it is."

I was left speechless, not knowing how he could see it when I tried so hard to hide it.

"Trust me when I say it's what I like about you," he said softly, running his hand through my hair once more. "There's no one else like you."

…

I guess I proved that to him, how special I was – and you should know I say that with the utmost contempt, my so called "specialness" is what attracted him to me in the first place, is what led to everything else. I wasn't special, I was a train wreck waiting to happen; a girl so broken after losing too many people she drowned herself in knowledge.

Don't be fooled by him, it was my knowledge he wanted – the things I might know. I won't lie, I loved how much he enjoyed my intelligence. How he looked at me when I sat with charts and a medical book planning on a patient's surgery – a heated look that had our clothes coming off and us in the bed. He made me feel like I mattered, like I was worth something; no one has ever made me feel like that before.

I told him about my mother, how I had watched her, how my father hated me for not being the one to die. I told him about Sarah, how she'd died in a shuttle crash – my trip to the psych ward after me and the other survivors were found. I don't think even Bones knew that, it wasn't in my records. I told him about Jim, how he was the only family I had left. I think it touched him, how I spoke of Jim – John was very big on family, but I'll get that later.

I fell in with John. I can't believe I'm actually saying that, I had always tried so hard not to care about people. But he told me about his family, how they were taken away from him; how he'd do anything to get them back. I knew he loved them, I never doubted that and you shouldn't either. Because all he ever did was for his family, because he wanted them back. And after losing everyone I loved but Jim, I don't think I could ever hate him for what he did out of love for them. Even if that meant hurting me.