Disclaimer: I do not own Bones, but I am obsessed!

Author's Note: It's time for another update. This is actually the second story that I wrote for this word. It was feeling too angsty to me, so I changed it to this one. I still don't know quite how I feel about this one. Of course after seeing the previews for next week, I could have gone an entirely different direction. Anyone else playing the previews for next week over and over again? Anyway, my other story may still see the light of day. With some tweaking, it will fit the bill for another word. I'm glad that you are enjoying these one-shots so much. Your support has been wonderful. I hope that you enjoy.

Chapter Four: Ya'aburnee

Ya'aburnee: Arabic – Both morbid and beautiful at once, this incantatory word means "You bury me," a declaration of one's hope that they'll die before another person because of how difficult it would be to live without them.

Booth walked into Brennan's office, whistling a familiar tune. Brennan looked up from the papers on her desk and smiled. "Hi, Booth."

"Hey, Bones. Whatcha doing?"

Brennan turned back to the various brochures. "Research."

Booth picked up a pamphlet off of her desk and idly flipped through it. "I can see that, Bones. Something for your next book?"

Brennan closed one booklet and opened another, not once looking up at her partner. "No, for my funeral."

Booth dropped the pamphlet, which he now realized was about cremation. His expression was slightly panicked as he addressed his partner. "Is something wrong? Are you sick? Cause we'll fight this. You are the strongest person that I know. We'll get through this."

Brennan looked up from her brochure, confused. "I'm not sick. I'm just being practical."

Booth let out a sigh of relief that his partner wasn't sick, only to be replaced by a different look of concern. "Planning your funeral isn't practical, it's morbid."

"Booth, we deal with death everyday. I actually find it odd that we haven't spent more time talking about what our last wishes are."

Booth shook his head, picked up the pamphlet and returned it to her desk. "I'd prefer not to think about it."

"You always avoid what you perceive as uncomfortable issues. Booth, we know better than anybody, that we will all die. I don't believe in an afterlife, so I won't be there to witness any of it. This is all rather a moot point, but it will save anybody else from having to make these decisions. As a forensic anthropologist, a common burial will preserve my skeletal remains, which appeals to me. However, cremation is also a common and acceptable practice. I also haven't ruled out the possibility of donating my body to science. I took a gross anatomy class in graduate school. Having a cadaver to work on was very beneficial, even if I did have to deal with flesh. I would be passing along that unique opportunity to another group of students like myself." Brennan paused in her speech and was shocked at the expression on her partner's face. "Booth, are you all right? I don't think that I have ever seen anybody physically turn green before. I thought it was just an expression."

Booth did indeed look green. He felt his breakfast rise in his throat, and he barely managed to avoid vomiting all over his partner's office. "Bones, you are not donating your body to science."

"Why not? It's a viable..."

Booth cut her off. "I am not letting strangers cut apart your body."

Brennan's voice took on its most practical tone. "I won't be able to feel it. I'll be dead."

This time, Booth couldn't hold down his breakfast, he did manage however to empty the content of his stomach into a wastebasket next to Brennan's desk. Brennan was instantly at his side, pressing the back of her hand across his forehead. "It doesn't feel like you are running a fever, and you seemed fine at dinner last night. How long have you been feeling ill for?"

Booth wiped at his mouth and pulled away from his partner, staying bent over at the waist and catching his breath. "Just about as long as you have been talking about planning your funeral, and letting people hack you to pieces."

"It would be for research."

"Absolutely not. I won't allow it."

Brennan raised an eyebrow at him, but he was still bent at the waist and he missed the expression. "You won't allow it? You have no say in this matter. And it is likely that you will predecease me, so you really shouldn't be concerned about any of this."

Booth chose to ignore the comment on his apparently short life span and focused on what he perceived as the most pressing matter. He stood up and looked into her eyes. "Of course, I'm concerned. You are my partner and my friend. I don't want to think about you dying."

"It is the conclusion of every life, Booth."

Suddenly, Booth couldn't take her logic and reason anymore. All he could imagine was staring at a headstone with her name on it. He was glad that he'd already emptied the contents of his stomach as he was feeling nauseous again. He ignored the nausea in favor of the anger he felt. His words were harsh and loud and he confronted his partner. "Stop it, Temperance. Stop talking about it. I don't want to hear it."

Brennan's face contorted in confusion at his harsh words. "Why are you so upset about this?"

"How could you not know why you talking about your funeral and people cutting you up bothers me?"

"I just don't understand."

His tone was still angry as he grabbed her shoulders and shook her. "How can you not understand that I love you and the thought of you dying kills me."

Brennan's eyes widened at the admission. Did he really just admit that he loved her? He seemed to not realize what he said, but he released his partner and stormed out of the office without another word. Brennan stood frozen the the spot, her back to her office door, staring at the spot that her partner had left behind.

The silence was broken by Angela walking into the room, her computer tablet in hands, looking over data on a reconstruction from Limbo.

"Sweetie, I think I figured out the parameters... Bren, are you OK?"

"Booth just told me that he loved me."

Angela managed to not squeal, but ran over to give her friend a hug. Brennan did not return the gesture and Angela sensed the grim mood. "Booth just told you that he loved you, why are you standing here and not making out like teenagers in the back of his SUV?"

"He's angry with me. He just marched out of here."

Angela was confused. Did Booth finally admit his true feelings and get shot down by his partner? "What happened?"

"He came in here as I was planning my funeral. It made him upset."

"Sweetie, of course it did. It makes me upset too. The thought of anything happening to any one of us, it makes me sick."

Brennan smiled, "Yes, it made Booth sick as well, literally." She sat back in her office chair and looked at her friend. "I think about it all of the time."

Angela sat opposite of her friend, and asked. "You dying?"

Brennan hesitated. "Yes, I have thought about my own mortality. But I meant Booth. I think about my partner dying all of the time. You may recall that I've already attended his funeral."

Angela smirked, "I think that he still has the bruise." Angela quickly sobered when she saw the sad expression in her friend's eyes. She had forgotten, or perhaps she had never really known, how deeply hurt Brennan had been by Booth's death. "Oh, Sweetie, why can't you just apologize for upsetting him, tell him that you love him, and have hot, sweaty make-up sex?"

Angela was not prepared for Brennan's face to crumple and tears to appear at her eyes. "I can't handle losing him, Ange. I've lost him too many times. He's been blown up, kidnapped, put in comas. I don't know how to live without him in my life. I can't imagine how I would feel if we became romantically involved and I lost him."

"Temperance Brennan, you need to stop this. You are afraid of risking anything because you are scared that you will lose him, but you are all ready risking everything. Think of all of the happiness that you are missing out on by not giving him a chance. Think of how nice it would be to come home after a bad day at work and have him hold you in his arms. When you wake up in the middle of the night from a nightmare, I know that you have them, think about having him there next to you, calming you. Bren, he loves you and you love him, and you keep putting off happiness because you are scared of losing each other. You know better than anyone that life is short, so live it to the fullest. Stop caring about your death and start caring about your life."

Angela sat back in her chair. She was exhausted, she had always wanted to say these things to Brennan and until now had never had the nerves to really go for it. She didn't care if she was being melodramatic, all that mattered was that the stoic scientist stood and smiled at the artist.

"I accept your logic. You are right. Now if you'll excuse me, I have somewhere I need to be."

Angela nodded and waved her hand at the door. "Go get him."

Brennan marched into the Hoover, ignoring the greetings of those that knew her. Her singular focus did not bother any of them, they were used to it. However, there was something about her expression that made them notice and follow her. They watched her as she walked into Booth's office. He was pacing the floor, clearly still upset.

His partner's voice called his name and he stopped and turned to face her. She stepped towards him. He tried to apologize for manhandling her earlier, but before he could form a full sentence her lips crashed onto his and her arms wrapped around his body. He was blown away by the kiss and took a long moment before he responded to her overture. They kissed until the need for fresh air became stronger than the want to keep kissing.

Booth stumbled back a bit as his partner released him. "Wow."

"I'm sorry, Booth."

"Sorry for what, Bones?"

"For upsetting you earlier, for not acknowledging your feelings, for..."

Booth stepped towards Brennan and pulled her into a hug. "You know what I'm sorry for?"

"What?"

"For not telling you that I loved you sooner. Bones, I love you and I want us to make this work. I don't want to waste anymore time."

"Neither do I. I've been so scared of losing you that I never gave us a chance."

Booth pulled her closer and kissed her temple. "Temperance, I don't know how long we'll have together, but I do know that every second that I have left on this Earth, I want to spend it with you."

Brennan blushed a bit, "I feel the same way."

"Come on, Bones. Let's get out of here."

"Angela said that you would want to make out like teenagers in the back of your SUV? Is that where we are going?"

Booth shook his head, "It's an idea, but I was thinking that we need to get out of here before the other agents start collecting bets. You did just plant one on me in broad daylight in the middle of the Hoover."

If possible, Brennan blushed deeper. "Yes, I think it would be wise to go elsewhere."

"I'm hungry. Diner?"

"Yes, I wouldn't mind a bite of your pie."

Brennan did get a taste of Booth's pie... eventually.