Thanks for the reviews, Ellie, RT, and Erica! They keep me wanting to write! *hugs*

Ellie, I totally ship Sweets more than Booth/Brennan. I love BB, but mostly insofar as they act parental towards Sweets. Every episode I'm like, yawn, where's the SWEETS! So returning that high five! :) Erica, Daisy was kind of a bee-otch in that epi. I was confused…And RT, definitely great minds, or so we like to think! ;)

Lance abruptly stopped crying and sat up (sending Knox flying with an angry cat wail). He was annoyed at himself, acting so childish. He sat up and thought, I have one week left with Daisy before she leaves. How do I want to spend it? That was a good question. On one hand, his heart was already working overtime to create distance from Daisy—a coping mechanism. On the other, he couldn't help the fact that at this moment, he still loved her as much as one person could love another.

Daisy knocked on the door to his bedroom.

"Baby?" she called softly.

Lance opened the door and looked down at his girlfriend. She had her hair tied back in a characteristic ponytail and was donning yellow cotton pajama pants and a white tank top. He sat down on the bed, and she sat next to him.

"You've been crying?" she asked, a question which annoyed him immediately. He looked away. Daisy frequently made remarks about Lance's propensity toward emotional responses. He had cried many more times in her presence than vice versa. Daisy prided herself on rationality, which she modeled in the image of her mentor, Dr. Brennan. Oddly, however, Daisy was quite emotional—she just tended toward excessive excitement and nervous energy rather than melancholy.

"Daisy, you just told me that instead of marrying me, you're flying to the opposite side of the world for a year. Forgive me if I'm a little…upset." Lance's tone was sarcastic, his eyes sad and flashing with irritation.

"But we should make the best of the time we have left, shouldn't we, Lancelot? We shouldn't spend it moping." Ugh, that word. Daisy often accused Lance of 'moping in his room.' She reached out to stroke his arm affectionately and nibbled on his shoulder.

"I'm not in the mood, Dais," Lance warned.

"Lance, for the year we've been together you've never not been in the mood. Come on, I'll make you feel better." She ran her finger down his chest, and he brushed her hand away.

For some reason, her comment recalled to Lance's mind her critique from earlier in the evening that he was 'not exactly Mr. Adventure.' He became angry all over again. Sure he had his habits, he liked to schedule things in advance, and he didn't particularly appreciate surprises. But that didn't make him unadventurous. He had lived in Philadelphia, Toronto, New York, and even London. He was cultured. Further, he felt that he and Daisy had enjoyed a rather titillating sex life in the time they'd shared together.

Huffily, he asked, "Daisy, what makes you think I'm not adventurous?"

Daisy rolled her eyes a little at his redirection of the topic from sex to his flaws. "Oh you know, you have the same thing for breakfast everyday. You go to the same diner every day. You see the same people, read the same newspaper, talk about the same set of topics. Everything in your life is scheduled. You hate when I spring things on you, like dinner last week with my friends from out of town—"

"Because I'm busy Daisy," he interrupted. "I have a demanding job and need to plan ahead. I work hard to fit in everything that I care about. I try to make you a priority. I'm sorry if I'm not as exuberantly spontaneous as you are, but you know, I try to keep things interesting. I bring you flowers, I try out new things in the bedroom. What do you want from me?"

"Well you're not very…" Daisy trailed off. Lance mentally inserted the word: manly. "I dunno. You're a kind of a city dweller. I don't really expect you to thrive in the tropics—it's too untamed for you." She dropped her eyes, as his mouth fell open in silent protest. "Lance, I just want the freedom to live my life and develop the best career I can. Like you. You've had many academic successes, and I'm not yet in the position where I can forgo important opportunities. I'm just asking for the same chance you had."

"You're right," he responded. "I understand."

And he really did understand. It's just that deep down he wished that he was more appealing than her career. Apparently, he just wasn't man enough to keep his fiancée interested.

He went to bed with the nagging thought that he was not a risk taker like Booth. Booth epitomized the manly man. Lance had had enough danger and pain thrown at him in his life that he did not seek out trouble. That was the truth. He thought back to how earlier that day at the hoarder's apartment he had been startled by a mere garter snake. Hodgins must not think him very masculine or adventurous either.

Lance and Hodgins were standing in the hoarder's apartment once again, and Lance had just offered "Mr. Adventure's" services in helping Hodgins retrieve his father-in-law's car. Lance was on edge. Booth had informed him that he'd be "better off" without Daisy, and he was still processing this fact that his friends did not approve of his girlfriend to the extent that they viewed the couple's imminent separation as a good thing. Had he been a fool to love Daisy? Had his friends just been humoring him this whole time, praying that his relationship would fail?

Hodgins interrupted his thoughts, "What bee's in your bonnet, Sidekick?"

Lance grumbled, "Oh, just that Daisy informed me I'm not adventurous enough to accompany her to Indonesia."

"Ouch, man. Hence 'Mr. Adventure,' I assume."

"Hodgins, do you think I'm bland and boring?"

"I think your hand is currently residing in a pile of rat droppings," Hodgins deadpanned. He wasn't joking Lance realized, gazing down.

"Aw, man!" Lance complained, violently removing his hand. He wiped it on a grimy old cardboard box. Then he looked back at Hodgins, demanding a real answer.

Hodgins sighed. "Look man, I don't want to knock your girlfriend, but I find you far more intriguing than her."

Lance still looked dissatisfied.

"Sweets, you're a young guy. If you're worried that you haven't lived life to the fullest, then rent a convertible and take a road trip or something."

"So I am boring?"

Hodgins sighed again. He clearly did not want to be pestered with this conversation anymore. "Is it or is it not your job to be someone that people can rely upon to be stable and comforting, Sweets?"

"I suppose it is."

"Then I think you do your job well. You don't need to be spontaneous and outlandish to be interesting. We're not all going to be Angela. Now can we get back to work?"

"Yeah. Just let me know when you want to get the car. I'll be there."

"All right, Sweets. I appreciate it. Like I said, I need all the help I can get."