**Even though I was hoping for more reviews/comments, I suppose I will forgive yall due to all of the story alerts and favorites that I received ;) I REALLY would love to get more comments on this chapter...ideas for future chapters, thoughts, opinions, suggestions, anything :)

Oh yeah, I don't own them or anything Bones related. If I did, I can assure you that Booth and Bones would be doing it already :D **

"Another one, Sam," Booth told the bartender as he slammed his shot glass down. His cheek was darkening by the minute from where she had punched him. The bartender poured the tequila into the petite glass and sighed. He had seen this all too many times before.

As Booth flicked his gold lighter, his head drooped lower and lower. How could he have been so stupid and inconsiderate? Right after Hannah had completely dashed his hopes of marrying her, the typically strong FBI agent broke down. Completely, one-hundred percent, broke down. He shut every door to the outside, including the most important one – Bones.

Booth momentarily jerked out of his daze when someone patted his shoulder. "Agent Booth," Sweets greeted and sat at the stool beside him.

"Hey, Sweets," Booth replied reluctantly.

Leaning against the bar, Sweets could see the pain radiating off of the man next to him. "About earlier…" he started.

"Look, Sweets. I don't want to talk about it, okay? I've had enough shit for one day. I don't need psychobabble crap added with it." Booth poured the tequila down his throat and slammed the shot glass back down on the bar.

"Okay…" the psychologist replied simply. After a few moments of silence, Booth laid his head over on his arms which were resting on the bar.

"How could this have happened…" he groaned into his sleeve. "I mean, I know it's all my fault, but how could I have done all of that to Bones?" he asked and sat back up, tapping at the shot glass in front of him. Sam, yet again, filled it with the liquid toxin. Booth threw the liquid to the back of his throat, wincing when it finally hit his taste-buds.

"Are you talking about when Hannah ended your relationship?" Sweets asked as he picked a pretzel out of the bowl next to him.

Booth sighed. "That and what happened after that." He went back to flicking the lighter that was tossing between his hands.

"I guess I'm a little confused, Agent Booth. I thought that after the breakup, you quit your job to take some personal time," Sweets said as he turned more towards Booth.

With a chuckle, Booth shook his head. "I wish that was all that happened. I wouldn't be here now if that's all that went down."

"Do you want to talk about it?" The young psychologist was truly interested in what happened. After all, he had been trying to get them together for years.

"Not tonight, Sweets," Booth said and stepped down from the bar stool that had kept him company for a couple hours. "Right now, I need to go think about some things. And put ice on my face," added with an eye roll.

"Okay, Agent Booth. You know where to find me if you need any consultation." Booth threw a hand in the air acknowledging that he heard the good doctor and walked out of the bar. As he stepped out from under the awning, Booth felt the rain pour across his skin, but he didn't care.

He slowly walked, kicking one foot out in front of the other, with his hands in his pockets as he became drenched in the cold rain. A smile spread across his face as a memory flashed back to him. He remembered the first time than him and Bones had worked together. After he had "fired" her in the bar that night, they stepped out into the rain.

He couldn't help but remember what it was like to see her smiling, glowing even…even if it was just the tequila showing through that night. As she got into the cab, he knew that he would be seeing her again. He knew that things with her were different than normal. Of course, he wanted to sleep with her as he had wanted with many other women. But he wanted more with her.

As a car horn blared, Booth shook his head and snapped back into reality. Without really thinking about where the hell he was walking, he ended up in front of Bone's building. After taking a deep breath, he sat down on the step in front of the door. He knew that she didn't want to see him…she had made that quite obvious. But the tequila was telling him otherwise.

Thunder rumbled in the sky as lightning danced across the ominous clouds. Booth remembered how Bones had once explained all the scientific aspects of thunderstorms. He also remembered that he didn't pay attention to a word she said…he was too focused on her smiling and lighting up as she talked about how relaxing they were to her. He missed her smile more than anything.

'Go talk to her, idiot,' he told himself. Two seconds later, he rebutted with, 'She doesn't want to see you or speak to you, you ass.' He battled back and forth with himself for what must have been at least half an hour. He tried to weigh out each possible outcome in his head, and none of the outcomes he thought about turned out good for him. Truly, most of them involved him being punched again.

"Booth?" he heard from behind him, turning around. He saw Angela with a worried look on her face.

He waved slightly. "Uh, hey, Ange," he said as the rain continued to hit his face.

"What the HELL are you doing out here?" she asked, opening her umbrella.

"Well…uh…I had a few drinks. And I just kind of got here," Booth said as he quickly ran his hand through his hair, pointlessly shaking out some of the water.

"How about you let me take you home, huh?" She pulled her keys out of her purse and hit the unlock button, making the lights flash on her vehicle parked by the sidewalk.

Booth shook his head. "I think I'm gonna go talk to Bones," he admitted.

"No, no, no, sweetie…" she disagreed. "I completely understand that you two need to figure this crap out, but you do NOT need to go up there in this shape," she told him as she pulled on one of his arms.

"Angela, I have to fix this…now..." he tugged back.

"Seeley, listen to me…I have been up there for TWO hours convincing her that love is real and that that is why she's hurting so bad right now. The LAST thing she needs is for you to show up there, drunk off your ass, and confessing your undying love for her." Angela opened the passenger door to her vehicle. "Now, GET IN!" she demanded. Booth unwillingly got into the vehicle and pulled the door shut.

As they arrived to his apartment, Booth sighed. "I'm sorry about all of this, Ange. And for getting your vehicle soaked," apologized with a frown.

"It's okay, sweetie. Now…go sober up. Given Brennan a chance to sort through things in her own time. I'm not saying to completely disappear…again…," she mumbled, "But don't push so hard. Just let her be Brennan."

He nodded and stepped out of the vehicle. "Thanks, Angela," he said as he shut the door behind himself. She nodded and waved as he walked towards the steps into his building. "You're just a fucking moron, Booth," he cursed himself as he fumbled with his key.

The next morning, Brennan woke up to the monotonous roar of her alarm clock across the room. She threw the sheet off of her warm body and sat up in the bed, slipping on her house shoes before she walked across the room. She happily slapped the alarm clock as it read 6:24am. She groaned and stretched as she walked towards her bathroom.

Once she was in front of the mirror, she placed her hands on the sink and looked up to see the woman staring back at her. The person that she saw wasn't her usual self. The person in the mirror had red, tear-stained eyes, puffy from all the crying. "I've GOT to stop this crying business," she told herself, splashing cool water onto her fair complexion.

Across town, Booth groaned loudly as his alarm clock also rang annoyingly by his bed. Reaching over, he smacked his hand down on top of it, in the process, hitting the snooze button. He was absolutely dreading getting up…he knew that a lovely hangover was going to greet him as soon as he was vertical.

Exactly 9 minutes later, the shrieking started again. "Fuck…" he grunted as he hit the off button and sighed. Slowly, he sat up with his hand shielding his eyes from the sun glaring into his windows. "This is going to be a fanfuckingtastic day," he declared. Standing up, the sheet fell from his boxer-clad body. After a long stretch, he trotted off to start his coffee pot and search for aspirin.

"Good morning, Dr. Brennan," Cam called out as she saw her best employee walking through the lab.

"Morning," she quietly groaned back. It most definitely was not a good morning. Brennan had a splitting headache from all the crying that she had done the night previous. As she removed her coat and sat down at her desk, she noticed a small piece of paper folded neatly resting against her keyboard. Without giving it too much thought, she opened it up. What she saw inside made her stomach flip.

A thousand apologies couldn't explain how greatly sorry I am…

-Booth

"Oooh, Lord…" Brennan said as she took a deep breath, looking towards the ceiling to prevent crying yet again. Her whole body was shaking as she reread the note…and reread it…and reread it again…

"Bren?" Angela called from the doorway with a worried look on her face.

"Huh?" Brennan replied as she jumped, shaking her head and folding the paper back up.

"Uhh…you okay, sweetie?" Angela walked to the front of the large desk and leaned over, "examining" her best friend.

Brennan's mouth opened, but nothing came out at first. She slowly looked from the paper to Angela and shook her head again, snapping herself out of the emotions that were going on in her head. "Yeah, Ange. I'm fine."

"Typical Brennan answer," Angela smirked. "And as usual, it's a lie." Without another word, she reached over and took the paper that was clutched in her best friend's hand. Once she opened it, her eyes got big, then narrow again as she looked up towards Brennan.

"I….I don't know what this means," Brennan admitted. "And I would very much like your expertise on this personal situation."

Smirking again, Angela sighed. "Bren…He's trying to make up with you." Her brown eyes showed love and care for the genius sitting in front of her. She noticed the blank look on Brennan's face and placed her hand on top of the other woman's. "And I think you should let him, sweetie."

"I have no desire to –"

"Oh honey, there is all KINDS of desire, so don't even try to pull that card," Angela interrupted. "He loves you, Bren. And he has for years. I understand that you're hurting and don't know exactly what is going on or how you really feel, but I really want you to think about reconsidering your position on letting him back into your life."

Brennan's slate-blue eyes were watery again as she slowly nodded. "I'll…take what you said into consideration." Angela smiled and shook her head.

"He's not going to hurt you again, you know…"

"You can't possibly know that, Angela," Brennan corrected.

As she walked towards the door, Angela chuckled. "Just trust me on this, Bren. It's a gut feeling," she yelled as she walked out the door.

"Those do NOT exist!" Brennan yelled back. "UGH!" she huffed as she turned back to her computer.

After a long day at work, Brennan looked up across the bones in front of her. Because of her expertise, another body from Limbo could now be sent back to his family in Louisiana for proper burial. He had been one of many victims of Hurricane Katrina back in 2005 when the deadly storm surged over New Orleans. Typically, Brennan worked with bodies that were hundreds and hundreds of years old, but the not-so-ancient bodies always put her more in perspective.

Looking at a picture of the man that was pulled from the missing persons report, she sighed. Although she knew very little about human emotions, she understood instantly how happy this man was before his untimely death. He was 34, close to the same age as both her and Booth, and he had a family – one that loved him dearly.

Attached to the same file was a picture of three small children sitting on the man's lap. All four people on the 5 by 7 piece of photo paper seemed to be laughing hysterically – something Brennan had not partaken in since her friendship with Booth was severed. He always knew how to make her smile and laugh, no matter what.

Once she had secured the bones back into the container and placed it where the "solved" bodies go, she snapped off her latex gloves and headed back to her office. Noticing it was already 6:30, she decided that for once, she wasn't going to stay at work all night. Gathering her coat and purse, Brennan turned the light out in her office and shut the door.

As she left the lab and walked down the hall, she saw a man sitting on one of the benches along the side of the hallway. Her heels smacking against the tile floor made him look towards her, but he immediately hung his head back down. She cocked an eyebrow towards the shadowy figure as she walked, not knowing who the person was, but as she got closer, she made the connection.

She saw the man, in a black suit, sitting solemnly with his elbows pressed against his knees and his hands holding his forehead. Her heart was racing as she became closer, but…according to Angela…she needed to forgive him. With her stomach doing flips and her heart flittering around in her chest – metaphorically, of course – she stopped walking a few feet from the man.

Noticing the shoes weren't making any more noise, Booth looked up slowly, keeping his eyes on the ground in front of him. Her heart wasn't the only one that was going to explode.

Brennan opened her mouth, but nothing came out as she gazed her eyes upon the very pathetic-looking man – the man that she had known to be all happy-go-lucky…whatever the hell that meant…and cocky. "I…" she started, her voice shaking, "I can't trust you…" she finally got out with a small voice.

"I know," he replied. "I understand that."

"Then, what do you want?" she asked, her arms crossing in front of her.

Looking up at her, she could see his eyes were watery. "I want you to give me a chance," he took a deep breath. "A chance to show you that the real Booth is back." She was silent. Booth stood up and walked to the railing that was across from him and turned to look at Brennan.

Looking down into her blue eyes, which were starting to get watery…again…he sighed. "I can't even begin to tell you how so very sorry I am for this, Temperance. A year ago…I was hurt. Badly. And I know that's not an excuse to treat you the way that I did…but it's the truth."

Brennan looked down at the floor, knowing that if she looked at him much longer, she'd be bawling again.

"You deserve so much more than someone walking out on you, and I failed you at that. But I want another chance. Just one more chance to show you that not all people are the same," he ended in a whisper as he gently lifted her chin up with his hand.

"I don't know if I can do that, Booth…" she said with a catch in her throat, her eyes piercing his. She had never been afraid of anything…except for losing Booth like she had lost everybody else in her life. She felt safe with him, secure even.

"Bones…" Booth said as he reached down and gently took her hand in his, still staring into her eyes. "If you still have even the tiniest bit of trust left in me…I'm asking you to trust me on this. If I screw up anything, that's it for me. But just give me one more chance…"

A tear ran down her cheek as he stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. She looked down at their connected hands and shook her head. "I don't know," she answered, pulling her hand back from his. "I'm sorry," she said as she looked up at him with tears on her cheeks as she took a few steps away from him.

"Temperance…" he called out before she got too far away. She stopped and looked back at him, her stomach doing aerobics in her abdomen. "I love you." His words were as clear and articulated as the edge of a beautiful diamond. Her crying increased as she stared back at him, followed by her once again turning away and quickly walking out of the Jeffersonian.