I was sitting out on the stairs of the lab, looking out into the garden and enjoying the smell of the cool grass, the water from the fountains, the dark night sky-- coolness after the heat of the chase, the heat of argument with local officials and debating the data, the heat of anger in catching the suspect and getting the confession.

Jack's kiss last night had been a surprise, but a welcome one-- I'd been standing over the remains, feeling nearly hopeless at not finding that last clue I knew would yield the answers. He and Angela and Cam had all stayed around, working on various things at our stations out on the platform while Booth took off. "You guys call me as soon as you find something," he called. I supposed it made sense, though I still thought he could have stayed and slept here, since it would take less time thereafter to make an apprehension, but I'd long since accepted that Booth did what he wanted, and I was trying not to feel bitter.

So there I was, standing over the remains, running my hands through my hair as I tried to make sense of it all. It's not as easy as Booth would like to think it is. There are so many pieces of data-- all my own findings, everyone else's, the pieces that Booth and I uncover together, the information from Booth and Sweets as to motivation that I have to somehow fit in with the hard data. Hah. The scientific data is only hard in terms of organizing the details-- they actually line up and stay organized in the meantime. The motivations? That's the 'soft data,' and it ... slides around on me. It's slippery. Hard to keep fitting into the spaces until it stays put. It's like mercury. Hard to handle until you find just the right molecules for it to bind to-- Cam doesn't do that very well. It's still up to me, most of the time. I was biting my lip, resisting the urge to bite my nails, tear my hair out, or look away from the victim whose skull sat there demanding I answer two questions-- the same one all their skulls did-- "Who did this to me? And how are you making them pay?"

There were some steps behind me-- Jack's. His steps are lighter but more even than Booth's. Booth sometimes starts and stops unexpectedly. He's hard to predict ... and he often changes direction when I least expect it. Jack's hand rubbed between my shoulders. "You'll find it, B.," he said assuredly. "Always do."

B. I'd told him two weeks after we'd stayed the night here at the lab, and after we'd both almost kissed, then discussed what it meant, that it would be silly for him to call me Dr. B. if we were going to try to make our way toward something more than just friendship. He'd just laughed. "Yeah, but Tempe? That's what your Dad calls you. Just, eew. Bones? I'm not touching that with a ten-foot pole, baby. And Temperance? Well, it's serious, and so are you, but you don't give yourself enough credit for being a goofball. I'll drop the doctor, but I think I'll stick with the B. But you've got to promise me something."

"What's that?" I'd asked, unable to resist his mischevious smile, and incapable of chiding him on the 'baby' thing. He called everyone 'baby,' it wasn't a patronizing nominative.

He chuckled and winked at me before speaking again. "Hodgins! Oh, God, Yes, More, Hodgins, More! Just sounds too formal in bed. Try Jack, will you?"

I'd nearly lost it, I was laughing so hard. Thank goodness at least one male I worked with wasn't too shy to entertain the possibility of sleeping with me aloud, even if we never moved past mere verbal discussion. "Jack it is," I said with a smile.

So I'd turned to him last night when he spoke, his vote of quiet, calm confidence eliciting a different response than what I would give to Booth's usual challenging exhortations. "Sometimes I worry I won't," I said, surprised to hear the doubt come out of my mouth.

Jack just tipped his head, thinking, as he stood close to me. We were nose to nose, eye to eye. "No, I suppose you're right-- it's not out of the realm of possibility. But it won't be because you didn't try with everything in you. It'll be because ... well, sometimes it takes longer than we want it to for there to be enough facts to prove a theory. It's people. It hurts when we can't solve it. But proof is proof, B. If the facts aren't ready to be found, then they won't. But I'm sure that you find every single fact that can be found."

"I do try," I admitted, and tried to smile at him.

"We both do," he said softly, and there, that was it, not a sudden realization, just a crystallized knowing, the pieces of hard data in place. He leant in without hesitation, and I closed the rest of the distance, his hands coming up to my face and my hands to his arms. It wasn't a lightning bolt. It wasn't waves crashing. It wasn't the earth opening beneath me-- all ways of describing the only kiss I'd ever had with Booth. But Jack initiated, and it was warm, and encouraging, and urged me along at my own pace. Like a sunny day when the light encourages me to get out and go for a run, something I don't always do, but that I always enjoy. How long can you live on adrenaline? A run keeps you healthy, long term.

It was a short kiss, not a passionate one. But it meant something-- a promise, rather than a shock and a leap back from the edge, as Booth did, as I had. He let go, carefully, and I did too.

"Nice try," I murmured, and he snorted.

"Try, try again," he replied, then gave me another soft kiss before stepping back. "Alright. I'm going to get out of your way so you can finish up here." And with a twinkling smile, he was off.

When I turned, both Cam and Angela looked surprised-- but Angela didn't look mad, as she'd assured us she wouldn't be, and Cam, after a moment, gave me a thumbs up, then walked off the platform. I smiled at both of them, and went back to my work.

Later, after we'd solved it, Jack came to my office to give me a neck rub. "See, B.? Told you you'd find it, my theory still stands," he said softly as I leant into him-- he bent down to kiss my cheek after tucking some hair back from my face. I turned into the kiss, kissed him back, not minding the soft curls of his beard. Liking them, even. "Thanks," I murmured. "Sometimes you just need a little encouragement."

He stroked the side of my cheek, said "we all do," then let me kiss him again as I turned further to pull him to me, my hand at the back of his neck.

We parted, and he looked at me. "Are you going to tell him?"

I nodded. "Yes. I ... should have earlier, and I wasn't hedging my bets, Jack, but..."

He nodded solemnly, understanding. "He's your friend, you're still not sure, and no matter what, you don't want to hurt him. Me neither-- all of that."

"Right. But I will tell him. Tonight if I get a chance, otherwise tomorrow. We have to see Sweets in two days anyway, it'll have to be before then."

"Okay," he said, then kissed me once more. "Give me a call if you want company later, but if you guys have paperwork, or you do get to talk to him, well... you know how to reach me."

"Thanks," I'd said. And meant it.

When I came out of my office, Booth was in with Angela, discussing something serious by the looks of it. Neither raised their heads as I passed, some sure sign they were both deeply engaged in the conversation.

So I went outside, and sat on the stairs, trying to think of nothing beyond being relieved that I'd answered another skull's question. "I know who did this to you. I helped make them confess. They're going to jail," I could say to one more life on my table. I was breathing the night air when the door opened behind me, and an uneven tread came toward me. Booth's.

I turned to look up at him, and he looked down at me, for once his face totally open. He knew-- he must have seen us in my office. "Have a seat," I said, patting the stair next to me, my heart heavy.

He sat wearily, looking at me with this sad, serious expression. "I was going to..." he started to say, then trailed off.

"Were you? When?" I asked, though I tried to ask kindly.

"Fair enough," he said. "I was just asking myself that. I ... couldn't come up with an answer."

My heart clenched a bit, and I reached out to take his hand. "I'm sorry, Booth."

His mouth twisted. "I'm the one who should be sorry. I'm the one who forgot. I'm the one who ... hesitated."

"Booth ..." I said quietly. "It's not okay that you forgot, but I forgive you. You're my friend, you always will be, and there have been so many times when you haven't forgotten, or when I'm the one who needed to be sorry."

Despite my hopes for something with Jack, a tear ran down my face, then another. This hurt me as much as it hurt Booth, though I didn't know if he'd think so.

"I don't ... we don't want to hurt you, Booth, and maybe I should have said something earlier about how I felt, but I always assumed you had a good reason for not saying anything about whatever you felt. Maybe that was foolish of me, but it is what it is now."

A tear leaked down his face, and swallowing, he spoke again, his voice choked. "Does it make any difference now to say that I love you, and that there wasn't any good reason except that I was afraid you'd say no, even though you've always stuck by me whenever I've told you something hard?"

I shook my head and tried to stifle a sob, not very successfully. "Maybe. I don't know. I ... I ... I love you too, but ... Booth, Jack asked me to try, and I want to right now." I sniffled, then gave up the ghost and let the tears flow. Love hurt-- always had. But ... I had to try. I knew that now-- and Jack had offered me the chance to try, without hesitation. Deliberation, yes. Hesitation, no.

Booth nodded, accepting, tears streaming freely down his cheeks now. "I can't say I hope it works out. I'm not that generous right now. But I do want you to be happy, and... if it doesn't work out, I'll be here in whatever way you want me to be."

"I don't want you to wait, Booth. I want you to be happy-- if you find that with someone, then I want you to try it." I replied. "But you're always my friend, no matter what. Really."

He looked down at our hands, still intertwined, then gave me a squeeze and let go. I let go, too.

"He's a good man. I ... want that for you."

I stood, pulled him up, and looked up at him. "You're a good man, too, Seeley Booth. Don't ever doubt it. Or think that I do."

He swallowed, then attempted a trembling smile. "So... no Thai tonight to finish paperwork, I guess."

I shook my head. "Not tonight. But tomorrow would be good. I'm going to go home, take a bath, go to bed early for once."

He stood there a moment longer, unsure. My own smile trembling, my own voice choked, I pulled him into a hug. "It's not a guy hug," I managed. "But just take it anyway."

His arms wrapped around me and hugged me back gently. Like so many times before now, except different. We were different, that was all there was to it. I just hoped different would still be okay.

Eventually, he let me go. I smiled once more at him.

"Going in?" he asked, hand on the door.

"Not yet. I'll see you tomorrow. Goodnight, Booth."

He sighed. Sniffled. Then steeled himself, and said "Goodnight, Bones. See you tomorrow."

I sat for a few minutes more, then called Jack from my cell.

"Hey, B.," he said, his voice warm.

"Hey," I replied, my voice still sounding quavery.

"How'd it go?"

"Sad. Very sad. But ... as well as it could have, I guess."

"I'm sorry," he said, leaving it at that.

"It'll be fine," I replied, not quite sure what I was referring to, but hoping it was true no matter what.

"You want company tonight?" he asked.

I thought for a long moment. "I don't think so. I told Booth I wanted a bath and an early bed time, and I need it."

"No problem," he said without hesitation. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Breakfast?" I asked.

"It's a date," he replied. Again without hesitation. Without hesitation. That was it. No more hesitation.