4.

Booth sat in his living room, a beer in his hand, a Phillies game on the TV in front of him. They were winning. He thought maybe he should be happy about that. But for the past four weeks, seven if you counted the three before that, there hadn't been much to make him happy. Parker of course, but that was about it. He worried about her constantly but found himself almost dreading her return. He'd been over their mistakes a hundred times and felt no closer to deciphering what had gone wrong. He felt a seed of doubt, wondering if maybe he'd only been in love with the idea of Bones. That maybe his friend's insinuations were right.

He took a final slug of beer and settled the bottle on the coffee table. No. If anything, his gut told him he'd loved Bones for a long time, probably even longer than he was aware of. And that was the thing that really bugged him. If he loved her then, with all of her social defects and logical arguments, then why did these things bother him now? He'd had her and her love, in every form. She'd loved his son. She'd opened up to him. Except...

Except he kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. He kept hearing her say that love was chemicals and that monogamy wasn't natural and that no one could predict what they'd feel in a year let alone 30 or 40. He wondered if somewhere along the way they'd swapped beliefs and now he was just waiting for her to realize that his statements about eventually and fate were nothing more than wishful thinking.

Yeah, she could have done more. She should have called him when she didn't show at Parker's playoff game. Hell, she could have re-scheduled her appointment and gone to the game, although he understood better now why she didn't. She should have taken more initiative with their relationship instead of always letting him take the lead. She should have fought him less when he was asking for what they both wanted. But she was learning and growing and he'd promised to help her when she stumbled. He just didn't understand himself. Sweets words echoed in his head: what changed? Was it really only his expectations that had changed?

He was still pondering these questions when someone knocked at the door. He checked the clock and figured his pizza had finally arrived an hour late. He had his wallet in his hand and was prepared to make a comment about the tip, when he looked up and realized pizza wasn't in his plans for the evening. He blinked slowly, making sure he wasn't imagining things. She was there. "Bones," he gasped.

She gave him a timid smile and handed him a bag of take-out. "I thought you might be hungry."

(.xxx.)

"There are two basic motivating forces: fear and love. When we are afraid, we pull back from life. When we are in love, we open to all that life has to offer with passion, excitement, and acceptance. We need to learn to love ourselves first, in all our glory and our imperfections. If we cannot love ourselves, we cannot fully open to our ability to love others or our potential to create. Evolution and all hopes for a better world rest in the fearlessness and open-hearted vision of people who embrace life." - John Lennon

(.xxx.)

"Bones?" His tone was disbelieving, questioning. She wasn't supposed to be here, not now when she'd committed to being gone for a month and a half, and not now, when he still hadn't figured things out.

Her expression fell as he stood and stared at her in his doorway. "Booth?" She questioned back. "Booth?"

When he still didn't move she faltered, a wave of panic rushed through her. She'd come here for a purpose, promising herself that she would see it through, but now, now she wasn't so sure. Maybe she should have called. Or wrote. She was an excellent writer. Perhaps writing would have been the better choice. But no, it was also the safer choice, and she had made up her mind to quit playing the safe game. Collecting her scattered thoughts and nerves, she pushed past him into his apartment and slowly turned back to face him.

"Bones?" His continual repetition of her name and nothing further was starting to annoy her.

"Yes. It is me. Are you uncertain of the reality of the situation? Do you wish me to call a doctor? Or pinch you as they do in similar situations in the movies?"

Her words snapped him back into the moment and he carefully closed the door. "Nah. I'm just surprised."

She nodded in relief. "Yes, I am certain that my presence is surprising to you. I apologise Booth, I should have called."

"No. No, it's okay." He looked down at the bag in his hands. "You brought food."

"I thought that it would be an appropriate offering of peace. That is, if you are hungry?" She looked at him uncertainly.

He nodded, heading toward the kitchen. "I'll get some plates. You thirsty?" He felt a brief moment of disappointment when his attempted escape to regain his footing was foiled by her pursuit.

"Yes," she replied as she simultaneously reached for the fridge door. "I'll get it. Beer for you?"

He nodded again and eased the takeout onto the counter. "Bones?" He tried.

She scowled. "Can you please stop repeating my name without saying anything else? It is repetitive."

"What are you doing here? You're supposed to be in Al-Fashir for weeks." He placed two sets of chopsticks on the counter.

Grabbing a plate, she began to spoon out the green curry and tofu, avoiding looking at him. "I came home early."

"Bo…." He stopped himself. "Why?"

Finally lifting her eyes to his, she gave him a piercing look. "That is part of what I'd like to discuss with you, if you are now willing to speak with me."

"I never-"

She interrupted, "No. You weren't interested before I left. I need to know that you're willing to have this conversation with me now."

He opened his mouth to shoot back a bitter reply but didn't have the heart to follow through. Finally, he mumbled, "Yes."

"Would you object if we ate first? I've not eaten since very early this morning and find myself hungry."

"Yeah, Bones, whatever you'd like." He pointed his chin towards the couch. "Let's sit."

(.xxx.)

"The best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them." - Ernest Hemingway

(.xxx.)

They sat together, but apart and focused on their meals, in silence. It was five minutes before Brennan put down her plate and looked up at him with grim determination in her eyes. "I owe you an apology. Several, in fact."

He nodded. "I think I do too?"

She quirked her head in surprise, "You do?"

He ducked his head slightly. "Yeah, me too."

"Oh." She looked completely thrown by his confession and he felt guiltier than before. He might not completely understand it, but he knew he'd played an equal role in their troubles. It had never occurred to him that she blamed herself for everything. "I don't," she started, "I don't know what to say now. I…" She shook her head, flustered.

"Start with why you're back," he encouraged. "We'll get to the rest. You're not," he paused. "Nothing happened, did it?"

She shook her head again. "No. The work wasn't as extensive as it originally appeared to be. The grave contained far fewer bodies than anticipated. I was offered additional work, there were more sites of concern, but I…" She swallowed nervously. "I told them I couldn't; that I needed to return home." She had used her connections to find a replacement. The work would continue with or without her, and for once she was okay with that.

He gave her a small smile. "I'm glad you did."

"Booth, I have to admit that I considered staying. I wasn't sure. I thought maybe it was for the best. But I soon realized that if I stayed I was endangering the life I have built here. And I couldn't live with that. That is my first apology to you: I'm sorry I ran."

He reached for her but paused in hesitation. "Bones. I'm not sure if you ran so much as you were pushed."

"I don't understand."

"I expected you to run; was waiting for it. When you kept coming back to me looking for answers I just, I pushed your buttons, I made you go."

"Buttons? Booth I don't…"

"Metaphorical buttons Bones." He interrupted. "I knew that you would leave if I acted the way I did. I think I wanted you to leave."

She sat back from him, hurt and even more confused. "Why?"

He looked down in embarrassment. "If you left, then I wouldn't feel guilty for pushing you away." He shrugged. "Didn't work that way. Maybe you're right about psychology."

She struggled to understand the turn the conversation had taken. "You wanted me to leave you because you expected me to leave you?" She pondered the words. "You and Angela and even Sweets have intimated in the past that my previous relationships have failed because I left them before they could leave me. That by being in control of the situation it ameliorated the hurt of being left behind. That it is related to my parents' abandonment." She looked him squarely in the eyes. "My intention was not to leave you Booth, but to give us an opportunity to work through our individual problems. I am sorry that I made you think I was abandoning you." The irony of the statement hit her seconds later and she looked away, ashamed. "Perhaps you were right to feel that way."

"Hey Bones," he urged softly. "You came back. That means something, okay?" She didn't look at him, but nodded nonetheless. She fidgeted with the cuff of her sweater and he set his plate down next to hers, shifting closer. "Bones? I'm sorry for being such a jerk to you about Parker's game."

"You were disappointed in me. I hurt you and Parker."

"And I jumped to conclusions, Bones. Parker told me what you did for him. He told me about the, what was it, boring guy? I forgot you had a meeting with the board of the Jeffersonian that morning and it never occurred to me that it would run so long. I'm sorry for treating you the way I did. You didn't do anything wrong."

She blinked back the tears forming in her eyes. "I did intend to attend the game Booth. But by the time the meeting was over, so was the game."

"It's okay. I get it now. You had a meeting you couldn't get out of, it happens. A phone call would've been nice though," he added.

She blushed. "I took a mild analgesic when I got back to my apartment and lay down for a moment as my head was aching. I woke up at two the next morning."

He laughed for what felt like the first time in months. "You fell asleep? Ms. 'I have incredible stamina' fell asleep after a day of meetings! Ha!" His eyes widened as her blush deepened. "That's why you didn't tell me. You were embarrassed? Oh Bones," he sighed in exasperation.

"In hindsight," she replied softly, "I should have explained and avoided this situation."

Something inside of him melted at seeing her dejected pose. He had been avoiding touching her since she appeared at his door. It had been self-preservation, but suddenly he ached to feel her skin. Tentatively he lifted his arms and encouraged her to lean into him. She smelled of dust and sweat and spice. He closed his eyes, and for a moment considered saying 'screw it' to the discussion they were having and skipping straight to the making up. He pulled away from her slowly, reluctantly, with the realization that avoiding their problems was the last thing they needed.

"We still need to talk," her statement mirrored his thoughts.

He nodded and cleared his throat. "Bones, I'm not sure if it would have mattered, in the long run that is, if you'd shown up to that game or called or whatever."

"I don't understand."

"I know, I just, it was building, you know? If it hadn't been that I think I'd have found something else to pick a fight with you about." He felt like a bully all of a sudden. Although he knew he could be petty sometimes. He'd never thought that he'd treat someone like that, especially Bones.

"Why?" she asked. "Why did you want to do that?"

He offered her a shamed smile. "It seemed like a good idea at the time?" Off her dubious look he added, "I'm not sure what I thought I was doing Bones. Things were off between us. I felt like you were pushing me away and I guess I wanted to push you back. I don't know why I felt that. You weren't really acting any differently. Maybe it's my fault; maybe my expectations for you did change once we were involved."

It was her turn to look away in guilt.

"Bones?" he questioned, hesitating at saying her name after her earlier admonishment. She looked up at him and he read the shame in her eyes. "You were pushing me away?"

She nodded her head once, sharply.

"Why?" he asked breathlessly, relieved that it hadn't been all in his head; that this wasn't all on him. Although the reaction was perfectly Brennan, it didn't mean he understood it.

"I believe this is where my second apology is due, Booth. While it was not my intention to drive you away, I now understand that my actions during that time may have been construed to you as such."

"What actions Bones? I mean, I think I know. But why?"

She hesitated. "Do you remember our 5 month anniversary Booth? You took me out to dinner and presented me with a pendant? You suggested we go on a vacation together?"

He nodded slowly. "I thought you enjoyed that?"

"Oh, yes, I enjoyed it very much," she confirmed.

"Was it the vacation then? Was it too much?"

"No Booth, I wanted to go on a vacation with you, even though I don't see why increasing my risk of melanoma, cirrhosis of the liver, and heart disease is seen as a desirable state to indulge in."

He smiled at the familiar argument. "Because it's fun, remember? And because it would be you and me for a week without crime and mayhem and squints."

She fought back her own smile and gave him a half-hearted scowl. "By your own definition, I am a squint Booth. Did you want to take that vacation by yourself?" They shared a smile, but the original intent of the conversation wove its way between them.

"So what happened?" Booth prompted.

She furrowed her brow. "I spoke with Angela the next day. She reminded me of the steps of a relationship and that after our vacation we would be ready for the 'next step'."

Though he thought he knew where this was going, he asked anyway. "Relationships have steps?"

"Yes," she nodded, "according to Angela they do. She reminded me of a conversation we had when you were dating Tessa and were planning to go on vacation with her as well. The next step after a vacation together is moving in together. However you and Tessa did not go on vacation together; nor did you move in together."

"Bones, I never did those things with Tessa because we weren't right for each other. Is that what this was about? You realizing you didn't want to take the next step, move in together? Cause Bones, I wasn't thinking of anything like that when I suggested going on vacation."

"I know. But once Angela mentioned it, I couldn't stop thinking of it."

"Okay?"

"I was very hesitant about the idea at first but after a time it became less and less of an abstract thought and more of a….eventuality."

"And that's what scared you?"

She shook her head impatiently. "No Booth, please let me explain this without hopping to conclusions."

He held up his hands in surrender. "Okay. No hopping."

"When we first met, I was seeing someone else." She confessed.

He blinked. "What?" He asked cautiously.

"It was very casual, only a few dates here and there. We weren't dating, then."

"Was that why you..." he trailed off, thinking about rain and cabs and tequila.

"No, I mean, yes, but only partially." She shook her head. She had been doing that a lot this conversation and once again felt the weight of her faults bearing down on her. "Afterwards, we became more serious. I had kept most of my relationships at the end of my arms for several years. I decided that I should attempt something different, to see if it would be more fulfilling."

"So you started dating this...?"

"Pete."

"Pete. So you started dating Pete and?"

"After a period of several months we agreed to move in with each other. Or rather, he decided to move in with me." She shifted uncomfortably at the surprise on his face. "It soon became apparent that it was a mistake."

Off his look, she continued, "It was unbearable to constantly have someone in my space, in my things; asking me questions that I couldn't answer; getting mad at me because I couldn't seem to compromise on the littlest things."

"Such as?" He asked, curious about this unknown part of her life.

"He preferred the right side of the bed, as did I; he left wet towels on the floor; he expected to know what I was doing and where I was going to be every single day, but had no interest in anything I discussed. Admittedly, I had very little interest in his profession either." She shrugged.

"Bones, that sounds pretty normal."

She shrugged again. "From my understanding of co-habitating couples, annoyances of trivial matters are normal, yes."

"Then what..."

"We started fighting. And he started staying at the office and so I started staying at the lab, and the only time we seemed to come together was in bed."

"Bones." His voice warned her of his discomfort of the topic, but she continued.

"It was sex Booth, biological urges. That's all it was."

"So what happened?"

"I broke up with him and left for a dig in Guatemala the next day."

"Oof Bones, that's pretty..." He trailed off, not wanting to give voice to his thoughts.

"Cold? Yes, I am aware of that, now. But at the time, it seemed the most direct solution to the problem. He still had his apartment; it wasn't as if he had nowhere to go. And we both knew it was inevitable at that point."

"You ever see him again?"

"Once," she confirmed. "He broke into my apartment after I returned, ostensibly to reclaim the television, although as he had ample opportunity to do so before, I believe the visit was more in the nature of a 'booty call'."

He bit back the laugh that wanted to escape after hearing the words 'booty call' on her lips. "What'd you do?"

"I was exhausted. He must have knocked something over or made a sound as it woke me from a very deep sleep. Someone," she glared in his direction, "had kidnapped me to work on a murder case immediately after I returned home. I hadn't slept in over thirty-six hours."

"I thought of it more as friendly persuasion than kidnapping," he joked. "What'd you do?"

"At the time I slept with a baseball bat under my bed for protection. When I realized there was someone in the apartment I went after him with it.

"Baseball bat?"

"He came through a door and I swung at him. He was carrying the television in his arms," she explained.

His eyes widened in realization. "So when you used to say that your TV was broken…?"

"I broke it with the baseball bat," she confirmed.

"Wow, Bones, that's. I knew you were a little jumpy back then, but a baseball bat?"

She looked away. "Booth, that trip, the one before… Things happened that made me more… wary… when my defenses were down." She watched him tense and assured him, "It's not something that bothers me now. I've dealt with it Booth, don't worry." She tossed her hair and grinned, "Besides, I found the sound of the screen smashing into small pieces to be very cathartic."

"Bones," he chided as she smiled wickedly. Despite how much he wanted to find out what happened he stopped himself from asking more. "I'm not sure what that has to do with us."

"When I started to consider moving in with you, I thought of how things were with Pete. I didn't want to repeat the same mistakes with you. I was trying to take an objective look at my habits and myself. I'm not very good at understanding my own behaviors, especially when you are around me. I believe I may have created a distance between us in order to gain some more perspective."

"You couldn't have gained perspective by talking to me about it?"

"I intended to discuss the subject with you once I fully understood my own position. I felt that it was very likely you would be gungo for it, and I didn't want to raise your hopes prematurely."

There was so much he wanted to say in response, but what came out was, "Gungo?"

She frowned. "Yes, gungo. To be very enthusiastic?"

"It's gung-ho, Bones, gung-HO," he stressed.

"Oh," she replied, "I see." She was quiet for a few moments before asking, "Why do you always feel the need to correct me when I use improper slang terminology and idiomatic expressions?"

He smiled slightly and countered, "Why do you always feel the need to correct me when I get squint speak wrong?"

"Because I want you to understa…." She stopped in realization. "Oh, I see." She looked up at him. "Thank you." She spoke so sincerely, he couldn't help but lean in and press a light kiss to her lips.

"Thank you, Bones." She blushed back at him. He pulled away, resisting the urge to linger close. "You still could have talked to me about it, no matter how gungo you thought I'd be. At the very least you could've told me you needed some space instead of working crazy hours and avoiding me."

"I wanted to surprise you with it, to do something you wouldn't expect. You were always the one pushing us forward, and for once, I wanted to be the one to advance our relationship." She looked away. "I should have known it would not work out. I'm not that person. I'm not sure I will ever be."

He felt another stab of guilt. "Hey. You have every right to try to work things out in your own head. I would have loved that surprise, you know? I just. I got scared and impatient. And instead of asking you what was going on, which is what I should have done because I know you would always answer me truthfully, I jumped to conclusions. Like always."

"I still feel that I disappointed you. That I gave you yet another reason to distrust me."

"Hey, I trust you."

Her look was wistful. "Do you trust me? Or do you only think that you should?"

He wasn't sure how to respond. "Of course I do, don't question that."

"I can't help but question it. You told me yourself that you questioned my commitment to you, that you thought I would leave you, hurt you. You doubted me; no matter how well deserved it turned out to be."

"I got scared, that's all. I let my fears take over," he soothed.

"But it's still distrust, no matter how you chop it."

He felt a flash of irritation. "You've been scared of us too, Temperance."

"Yes. I am scared. Of myself. Of what I will do to you when I inevitably fail. But I'm not scared of you. You have demonstrated to me repeatedly that I can share my fears with you and you won't betray me. You know me, my past, my faults and you still care about me. What I don't trust is that you won't let me hurt you. I have come to believe you share that fear."

"You think I'm scared of you?"

"Aren't you? It's not as if I haven't given you reasons to be afraid. You were scared I would push you away, I did. You were scared I would leave you, I did."

"I…." He fell silent. She was right. He hated himself; she was right. "Shit Bones, I'm sorry."

"Why?"

"What?"

"Why are you sorry? It is my fault that you don't trust me. I have not provided you with convincing evidence to believe otherwise. In fact, by my actions, I have proven your beliefs about me correct. You should not trust me."

"I want to though, so much. And maybe you're right, that there's a part of me that still doubts you and me together. But it sounds wrong to me, because I know I trust you with my life and my son's life and all that I hold important."

This time she kissed him, sweetly, deeply, but briefly. "I want to prove to you that you can trust me with your heart, if you're still willing to take that risk."

He felt the breeze of her words on his face and leaned in the fraction of an inch between them. He was more than willing to take the risk.