Storm is calling, but I don't mind.

People are dying, I close my blinds.

And all I can do is keep breathing. All I can do is keep breathing.

All I can do is keep breathing now.

A week had passed since he'd made love to her. A week had passed since she basically told him that she loved him and wanted to start a relationship. A week had passed since he'd fucked everything up.

Booth sat at his desk, staring at the case file in front of him. The body he and Fischer had brought back to the lab had been identified as a male teenage runaway. It was the type of case that he absolutely hated. He knew Brennan wasn't taking it very well either, despite her neglect to talk to him.

Thankfully she had only spent two nights at her apartment. However, just because she was living with him again, didn't stop her from freezing him out. She had only spoken to him at work this past week, and even those words had been minimal. It was enough to make him wonder if she was talking to anyone.

"Agent Booth?"

He looked up and found Sweets standing in the doorway of his office.

"Sweets. What's up?"

"Well Cam told me about what's been going on between you and Dr. Brennan and –"

"Look, I'm going to stop you right there, Sweets. You're not our psychologist anymore."

"I'm here as a friend, all right?"

"Okay, fine. What?"

"Is she talking to you yet?"

"Not unless it's something regarding our victim."

"The runaway?"

"Yeah."

Sweets made his way into Booth's office and sat down in the chair in front of his desk. "I'm really sick and tired of the two of you fighting."

"Sweets –"

"No, I'm serious. It's been over a year of this crap and it needs to stop. You need to fix this."

"Don't you think I'm trying? Because I am. Do you think I like fighting with her? Because I don't. Do you think I wanted to tell her about the Hannah thing? Because that was Cam's fault for pushing me."

"I don't care whose fault anything was. All I know is that you two need to get your acts together. All of this fighting can't be good for Katie."

"We don't fight around her. We don't even talk around her."

"Okay I really don't think the silence is any better than fighting. She can probably sense that something is wrong."

"So what do you suggest I do, exactly? I've told her I was sorry dozens of times. I've tried to talk to her and she won't respond. I know she needs time, but how much? How much time does it take to get over the person you trust the most hurting you in the worst way possible?"

"Well, I don't have all the answers. Perhaps a grand gesture of some sort is in order."

"Like what?"

"You know her better than I do," Sweets said with shrug, standing up and heading toward the door.

"You know this talk hasn't been all that helpful," Booth called after him.

Sweets just waved his hand in response and left Booth alone to his thoughts.

"I still don't understand why this is my job," Annah complained in her fake French accent. "I'm an artist, not a forensic scientist."

"Yes, but this job calls for a forensic artist. Therefore, trying to match the weapon to the size and shape of the fracture in the skull is part of your job. You were told this when we hired you," Brennan explained impatiently.

"Why can't you just do it?"

"Because," Brennan started through gritted teeth, "it's not my job."

"Dr. Brennan, I found some non-insect particulates on the body. What would you like me to do with them?" Dr. Wessland asked.

"Find a botanist to identify them," she mumbled under her breath.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Just give them to me," Brennan sighed, holding out her hand.

He placed the Petri dish of the mixed particulates in Brennan's outstretched hand and then returned to his microscope.

"Anything in there to help determine the murder weapon?" Annah asked, peering over her shoulder.

"I don't know. Dr. Wessland mixed them all together so I have no way of knowing what came from where. And besides that, I haven't begun to look at them yet. Will you just go examine the dimensions of the fracture?"

"Fine," she huffed, walking back to her office. "Let me know if you find anything useful."

Brennan clenched her empty hand into a fist and took a deep breath. She was beginning to debate the idea of Hodgins' old rubber band trick that he used to use to help control his anger. She returned to her office and placed the Petri dish down on her desk. She then turned to her bookshelf and pulled down one of Hodgins' thick volumes of botany. She'd identified the plants in the last two cases, even though it had taken her nearly a week to do so both times. So there was no reason she couldn't identify them again.

She began sifting through the mixed contents Dr. Wessland had presented her with and came across something that could either be a thread or a piece of hair. Her magnifying glass was not powerful enough to discern the difference. With a groan, she pushed herself out of her chair and brought the evidence to Cam's office.

"I need to know if this is human hair or something else," she told her.

Cam looked up, confusion crossing her face. "And this is your job because…"

"Because there is no Hodgins to do it for me."

"Couldn't Fischer –"

"No, I told him to help Annah identify the murder weapon. Look, you really need to hire a botanist. I can't keep pretending that I am one. We're going to get caught up in a high profile case one of these days and when I'm forced to testify that my botany knowledge is self-taught, things won't end so well."

"I've been trying. None of our applicants seem qualified enough and I'm trying to avoid hiring another Annah or Dr. Wessland."

"We're getting desperate, Cam. Just pick one."

Cam sighed and moved to take the evidence in question from Brennan. She placed it under her microscope.

"It's a black hair," she concluded.

"That's not helpful at all. Our victim had black hair."

"Sorry," Cam shrugged, handing it back over to her. "You still fighting with Booth?"

"That's really none of your business."

"You're my friends. That makes it my business."

"You knew," Brennan said softly. "You knew what he was doing with Hannah, and you didn't tell me. That hardly makes you my friend."

"In my defense, I didn't know until she rejected his marriage proposal. He didn't talk a whole lot to me either when he was with her. And besides, what good would my telling you even do? You told him that you were mad because he told you, not because he did it."

"Of course I'm mad that he did it! But I am more upset that he told me, seeing as how things would be just fine right now if he hadn't."

"I think you should give him another chance; accept his apology."

"How many more chances does he get?"

"He's not the only one who's screwed up your relationship you know? You're just as guilty as he is."

"Thanks for identifying the hair sample," Brennan said, turning to leave.

"Avoid this as long as you want, Brennan. It's not going anywhere!" Cam called after her.

"All right, Miss Katie, which book should we read tonight?" Brennan asked.

Katie walked over to her little bookshelf and pulled down the book with the brightest cover; something titled "Chicka Chicka Boom Boom." She brought it back over to Brennan, who was sitting in the rocking chair. Brennan helped her up onto her lap and began to read.

"I don't think we've read this one together yet. All right, let's find the page where it starts. Ah, here we go. A told B, and B told C, 'I'll meet you at the top of the coconut tree.' 'Whee!' said D to E F G, 'I'll beat you to the top of the coconut tree.' Chicka Chicka Boom! Boom! Will there be enough room?"

Brennan continued reading and Katie giggled along in delight. It was a very odd book about letters trying to climb a tree, but she supposed it helped the child to learn the alphabet.

"A is out of bed and this is what he said, 'Dare double dare, you can't catch me. I'll beat you to the top of the coconut tree. Chicka Chicka Boom! Boom! Chicka Chicka Boom! Boom! Chicka Chicka Boom! Boom! Boom!" Brennan finished and closed the book.

Katie clapped and then took the book from her, climbed down from her lap, and ran to get another.

"Now who said you get two bedtime stories tonight?" Brennan laughed.

Katie giggled and returned to her lap carrying "Goodnight Moon."

"All right. One more. But only because I enjoy this story," Brennan told her with a smile. "In the great green room, there was a telephone, and a red balloon, and a picture of the cow jumping over the moon. And there were three little bears, sitting on chairs, and two little kittens and a pair of mittens. And a little toy house and a young mouse. And a comb and a brush and a jar full of mush. And a quiet old lady who was whispering 'hush.'"

She could feel Katie drifting off in her arms as she continued reading. "Goodnight stars, goodnight air, goodnight noises everywhere."

"Goodnight mama," Katie yawned before she fell completely asleep on Brennan's lap.

"Oh Katie, I'm not –" Brennan started. "Yes, sweet girl, I'm your mama now."

She could feel those ever present tears forming in her eyes as she laid Katie down in her crib. It was all finally sinking in. She was a mother. She was Katie's mother. And Katie was too young to tell the difference between her and Angela. She left the little girl to sleep, before her sobs became too loud and woke her.

Brennan met Booth in the hallway. One look at her tears and his face instantly filled with concern.

"What's wrong?" he asked her.

"It's nothing."

"Come on, Bones. Why are you crying?"

"It's just…It's just Katie called me 'mama.' And I love that she did, but I also hate that she did because Angela…"

"Hey, it's okay, I get it," he whispered, tentatively rubbing her back. She didn't resist. "I get it."

"I still miss them so much. And Katie…she's too young to even miss her own parents. She thinks that we are her parents."

"We are her parents…I miss them too you know. Angela always had a real soft spot for me. Maybe it was because she wanted us to get together more than we did ourselves, but…God she was great. She had that smile that could just light up a room. And Hodgins? We became really close there towards the end. I mean I always liked the guy, but…"

Brennan nodded, keeping her eyes trained on the floor. Booth took in her appearance. Her hair was up in one of those high ponytails that he secretly adored and she was wearing sweats…wait a second…

"Did you take that from my closet?" he asked, referring to the too big FBI sweatshirt that hung off her body at odd angles.

"You left it at my apartment before you left for Afghanistan. It used to smell like you. Now it just smells like me," Brennan answered quietly.

It made Booth's heart clench. She wore this sweatshirt because it used to smell like him. How had he been so blind to this in the past?

"Hey, I have an idea. Come downstairs with me," he told her.

"Why?"

"Come downstairs and I'll show you."

Brennan allowed him to take her by the hand and lead her into the living room. She sat down on the couch while Booth pulled out a DVD.

"What is that?" she asked.

"I'm not sure. I found it in a box marked 'home movies.' There were dozens of DVDs in there. I just picked this one. I figured that maybe seeing them again might help the both of us. What do you think?"

"Put it in."

Booth did and pressed play on the DVD player and the old home movie whirred to life. It was the Jeffersonian's annual summer picnic and the date stamp indicated that it was the year after his brain surgery. The year when things had been absolutely perfect until he opened his big mouth, deciding to take a gamble on their relationship. It was the year before Hannah and when everything went to hell. And this picnic? It was probably his all time favorite memory of her; next to the few kisses he'd been able to steal from her over the years.

He looked over at Brennan and noticed she was as enthralled as he was; no doubt lost in the same thoughts. He knew her favorite picture of them had been taken on this day, the one he'd found in her drawer when he was looking for Angela's note.

Booth turned his attention back to the video. Hodgins' voice filled the room in a way that was both comforting and eerie.

"Ah, isn't it just beautiful out today, Angie? So glad the bosses were finally able to put this stupid picnic on a day where it's not pouring buckets for once."

"Jack, what's with the camera?"

Hodgins spun the camera away from the lake view he'd been previously filming and onto Angela's zoomed in face. As he zoomed out, Angela raised an eyebrow at him waiting for an explanation.

"I never have any reason to use it. Thought this would be as good as anything."

"Glad to know 'stupid work picnics' rank so high on your list."

"They weren't even married yet," Brennan mumbled next to him.

"They should have been."

"No kidding."

"Oh come on, I didn't mean it like that. And try to tell me what's going on behind you isn't precious," Hodgins told her.

As Angela turned her head, he zoomed in on the scene. Booth and Brennan were playing football with Parker. Brennan and Parker were currently participating in a game of keep away from Booth. Their mixture of laughter filled the air.

"They look like the perfect little family, don't they?" Angela commented.

"Yeah…are they ever going to get together?"

Angela sighed, shaking her head a little. "I've been pushing for years and nothing. They're both just so freaking stubborn."

"You realize that if either of them ever sees this tape, we're dead?"

"Well I don't plan on ever showing them, do you?"

Oh Hodgins, the irony of your statement. The reason they were watching this now was in fact because they were dead. But Booth knew Hodgins' statement wasn't meant to be quite so literal. He chanced another glance at Brennan. She was hunched over, with her elbows resting on her thighs and her hands clasped together near her lips. Her eyes were still wet with tears.

"You know I really thought his brain tumor would do it for them; thought it would seal the deal," Hodgins was saying.

"Nah, they've almost lost each other one too many times and it still hasn't had an effect on them. They're just…really good friends."

"No, you and Brennan are really good friends. Booth and Brennan…"

"Have what we used to have?"

"Have more than what we used to have," Hodgins laughed. "I mean, look at them."

"Stop it, Booth! That's cheating!" Brennan scolded with a breathy laugh.

"How do you know what the rules of football are? You think a touchdown is called a goal."

"They use goal posts, why wouldn't it be called a goal?"

"Because this isn't soccer."

"You know, in every other country soccer is called football. Ergo, I'm right."

"No, Bones, you're not. This is American football. Not European football.

Brennan huffed and made her way towards Hodgins and Angela, still holding the ball.

"Where are you going?" Booth called after her.

"Bones, you still have the ball!" Parker exclaimed.

"What are you videotaping?" Brennan asked, squinting her eyes in confusion.

"Life," Hodgins stated bluntly.

Brennan turned to look at Angela, looking even more confused than before.

"I don't know. He thinks he's Steven Spielberg or something today," Angela answered. Brennan remained to look confused. "Oh sweetie, please tell me you know who that is."

"Oh, I do. I'm just still trying to figure out why."

"Because I can," Hodgins said.

Booth approached the group with stealth. He placed a finger to his lips, signaling his intent to surprise Brennan. Suddenly, he jumped on top of her from her behind. Brennan shrieked as they both fell to the ground and Booth broke out into a fit of laughter.

"What are you doing?" she exclaimed.

"You have the football. I'm tackling you."

He plucked the ball out of her hands and ran off back towards Parker.

"You are so going to pay for that," Brennan smiled, pushing herself up and running after him.

"They are so cute, it's disgusting," Angela commented.

"Seriously, they're acting like love sick teenagers."

"Well, Bren never got the chance to be an actual teenager, so I say just leave them be."

Meanwhile, Brennan had caught up to Booth and was attempting to tackle him to the ground.

"Give it up, Bones. This is FBI trained strength you're dealing with here."

She waited until he turned his back, and then she proceeded to kick his feet out from under him, causing him to fall hard onto his back.

"Give it up, Booth. This is mixed martial arts training you're dealing with here."

He groaned in response. Brennan extended her hand to him, a gesture to help him up. Booth took her hand, but instead of standing up, he pulled her to the ground with him. She stumbled on top of him, a blush instantly coloring her cheeks. She pushed herself up and ended up straddling his hips. Their eyes locked and their breath caught in their throats.

"What the hell are they doing?" Hodgins asked.

"Having a moment. It's what they do," Angela answered.

"What are you two doing?" Parker asked, walking up to them with the football.

"Uh," they both stammered, awkwardly trying to stand up.

"Bones, just, uh tackled me, buddy," Booth tried. "Now let's get back to our game!"

"Okay!" Parker said excitedly, handing his dad the football. "I'll go long!"

Booth looked back over his shoulder at Brennan. She smiled at him, shaking her head.

"You think they've slept together yet?" Hodgins mused aloud.

"What?" Angela asked in response.

"Booth and Brennan. I think they've had sex."

"They haven't."

"That you know of."

"Trust me, Jack. I would know."

"Just because you think she would tell you, doesn't necessarily mean that she would."

"Please. I can read her body language. She and Booth haven't slept together…yet."

Hodgins laughed and the video camera shook as he did so. "God, I really hope they never find this tape."

"Maybe we should just burn it."

"Nah, I think I'll save it for their wedding."

"Brennan doesn't believe in marriage."

"Just wait and see, Ange. Wait and see."

The screen went black, signaling the end of the video. Booth stopped it before another one could start. He looked over at Brennan and found her staring at him.

"A part of me wishes that they just faked their deaths in an attempt to get us back together. I just keep waiting for them to show up…"

She started crying harder and Booth pulled her into his arms, not caring whether she was still mad at him or not. He was happy to feel her returning the embrace, her arms snaking around his torso and her head falling onto his chest.

"We can fix this Bones, fix us. We can be those people again."

"Don't you understand?" Brennan asked softly. "We can never be those people again."

"Why do you say that?"

She pulled away from him and he immediately regretted his desire for an explanation.

"Because that version of us hadn't been burned by love. That version of us didn't know what it was like to hate. We were happy. Everyone could see it. I mean everyone knew how in love we were except for us. I don't think we can ever get that back."

"We've been through hell and back together and you just want to give up on us? Why won't you fight for us?"

"Why are you?"

"You can't be serious."

"It's been over for a long time. We never would have worked out anyway."

"Don't you dare do this to me again! We are still those people. Yes, we've hurt each other a lot since then, but deep down we are still those people. And may I remind you that just last week you wanted a relationship? I know that you're mad at me, but please, don't let that one thing force you to give up on us. Think back to what we just watched on that DVD; think back to the day of that picnic. We're good together, Bones, really, really good."

"But Booth –"

"No. Remember when I pulled you down to the ground with me and you ended up straddling my hips? Do you remember how later we joked about doing it again later without the pants? Yeah it didn't happen then, but it happened last week and it was amazing. Everything about you is amazing. So please Bones, I'm begging you; don't give up on us."

Brennan finally drew her eyes up to meet his.

"I just want to go back to that time, Booth. And we can never go back. You can't take back what happened."

"But we can move forward. We can move forward together."

Brennan put her left hand on his cheek and drew the pad of her thumb across his lips.

"I want to," she whispered. "I want to so bad."

"You have an odd way of showing it," Booth laughed.

"I just… you were willing to marry a woman you didn't even love, vow before your god that you were going to spend the rest of your life with her, just to hurt me. And you're right, you're not the type of man who cheats or gets divorced. So if she had said yes, and you had gone through with it… we both would have been miserable for the rest of our lives."

"I knew she wouldn't say yes. She had told me before that she never wanted to get married."

"So then why didn't you just break up with her? Wouldn't that have been the easier option?"

"Bones, I don't know how else to apologize for what I've done. I'm sorry. I am. I hate that I've intentionally hurt you. If I could take it all back, I would, but I can't. So give me this chance now. Let me prove how great we can be together."

"I can't do that. I don't trust you the way that I used to."

Booth closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against hers.

"I love you," he whispered. "And I'm never going to stop trying. You and I belong together, Bones. At least give me time to prove it."

"Fine. You have until March."

"That's only a week. You need to give me more than a week."

"How much time do you need?"

"As long as it takes."

"Booth –"

"Okay, okay, March 15. That was the day that I knew we were more than just partners."

"What day was that?"

"The day we sang Hot Blooded for the first time, and your fridge blew me up, and I saved your life for the first time. The day when you looked into my eyes after I saved you, and hugged me, and I just knew."

"March 15," Brennan agreed. She stood up and kissed the top of his head. "Thank you for the movie. Good night, Booth."

"Night, Bones. Thank you for giving me this chance."

"Don't screw it up," she smirked before heading upstairs.

He was a lucky bastard. He really didn't deserve her. But he was going to try his damndest to earn back every part of her that had lost.

AN: Reviews much appreciated yo! I'm secretly gangsta, but no not really. My friend Laura claims I have a ghetto booty though. Can you tell that it's late as I'm writing this?