Two hours; barely two hours with her, and now he had to steel himself into leaving. The whole unfairness built into that scenario made him want to cry.

6:30 already and light was beginning to fill the room despite the closed shades. He looked at the clock again. The alarm he had set for this morning should be ringing in fifteen minutes, but it wouldn't be-a little less than an hour ago he had carefully reached over his sleeping partner and turned it off. In reality, there was absolutely no risk that he wouldn't wake up in time because there was no possibility that he would be anything but awake. They had made love and she had fallen into an exhausted coma shortly thereafter. But he wouldn't, no matter how much his body was protesting; not knowing that he might never find himself with her like this again. In fifteen minutes he'd be forced to get up and start his day, pretending that it was just like any other. It had to be, if he had any chance of getting back in one piece at the end of it.

A shower, a shave, clothes, his gun, coffee. The calming routine that was the backbone of a soldier's life. There was nothing more he wanted to do this morning than to stay in bed, watch her wake up and possibly see her smile, maybe share a little conversation before making her breakfast. Just like routine though, discipline was a necessity for survival during war; you did the things you least wanted to do in order to stay alive. Who knew if she would even agree to stay? It wasn't a given no matter how much he day-dreamed, and he was well aware of the risks he took on their behalf when he let last night's events go forward. But he had to believe she would, if he was going to make it through the day.

Broadsky-he brushed the thought away-there was plenty of time to think about him later. For now, all he cared about was Bones, sleepy and soft against him. He grinned a little; he couldn't help himself. Sometime last night she'd gotten cold and put on his shirt. He felt the ungentlemanly pride of possession inherent in seeing her in his clothes, a pretty timeless symbol of ownership. It was an unbecoming thought and certainly did more than hint at that caveman, alpha male side of him she always talked about, but he never claimed to be perfect. Bones would definitely give him grief about it though, he was sure, if she only knew how much pleasure seeing her in that old t-shirt was giving him. Maybe one day he'd tell her, if he thought he could survive the admission.

The clock neared his wake-up call and everything that had been yesterday resumed its endless replay in his head, even as he struggled to enjoy the last few moments of quiet with her. Vincent, glass, blood, the phone. Over and over. It should have been him. It didn't seem right that he'd finally been given what he wanted at the expense of someone else. And Bones-if the poor hapless intern hadn't been there, would Broadsky have recognized a female shape and withheld his shot, or would she have become another casualty of war, more by way of collateral damage? But they were both alive still and despite all the guilt that came with that, he was glad that he had this night with her. Amends, to the extent that they were possible, would have to come later.

What could he say about last night? That it had been amazing, that he wished they could have spent more time together? That he would carry the images and sensations with him the rest of his life, however long that turned out to be? Every sound she made, how she felt beneath him, how she held on to him and shuddered slightly before they both found the oblivion of release. Before the end came, he made a conscious effort to slow things down because he didn't want what they were about to share to be about lost hope. He had stopped for a few seconds and kissed her softly, trying to tell her. She seemed to understand and calmed a little, quieting her movements and lightening her touch. He could still feel her fingers picking out every single one of the vertebrae along his spine, caressing every rib, singling out all the tendons and muscles on his back and shoulders, forever he thought with some amusement, the enthusiastic student of anatomy. And in the newfound gentleness he felt her despair turning into something else, maybe something resembling love. It wasn't that; it was way too soon for Bones, if that feeling would ever even be meant for him. But it was close enough.

6:45 and time was up; it couldn't be helped. Agent Shaw would be waiting for him in his office and he had a job to do. He lingered a bit, wanting these last few minutes with her, wanting to experience every second in case they were the only ones he had. He was only too painfully aware that Jacob was a deadly enemy, the perfect killing machine. Skilled, patient and cursed with an endless source of purpose; no one was more dangerous than a man undertaking a mission he fervently believed in. In this terrible way they were similar, he and Broadsky, but only in this way, he prayed. At least he could tell himself his own actions were derived from orders arrived at by the many, where Jacob followed only his own agenda. Better not to dwell on the similarities today, though-they hit a little too close to home for comfort.

Giving Bones a light kiss on the forehead, he carefully disentangled himself from her. She was asleep, and he wanted her to stay that way; it would make things simpler for them. Besides, why expose her so soon to the reality that was already here for him? A day when Vincent was no longer alive and Broadsky might take his life.

He walked quietly towards the bathroom, mentally morphing into the hunter with every step. He figured his only chance against the killer was to exploit the sniper's most apparent weakness-his violent dislike of the man he viewed as his own personal roadblock: one Seeley Booth. By now Jacob had probably figured out he had killed the wrong man and this knowledge might throw him off his game just enough to serve as ammunition. Passionate people had endless drive, but they often made costly mistakes. He just had to use this in his favor, along with whatever else came from the Jeffersonian. Remember Seeley-he's not perfect.

Booth felt his own unlikely advantage in the wake of the previous evening's events. The desire for retribution, so strong only yesterday, had been transmuted into something saner. No killing Broadsky if it could be helped-this had to be about justice and not merely revenge. It was a conscious decision, because he didn't want the memories of the night to be tainted by any more blood. The new goal brought on an added sense of calm, of control-necessary tools in his quest for a monster. If she only knew what being with her had done for him…but not now and maybe not in a long time. Where they were currently at was scary enough already.

Stepping into the shower with regret at having to wash away the last traces of her, he turned the water on as hot as he could stand it. It was the start to his every day and he needed to find his cadence. Near impossible to keep his thoughts from wandering to Bones all day long, but at least he could make the effort. Would she still want to work with him, would she go out with him? Or was this finally the end of the road for their relationship? If it was the former, it would be an extra incentive to get the job done. If the latter…maybe he didn't want that information before he left.

He turned the water off and shaved in thoughtful silence, idly wondering if she was already awake, if those inquisitive blue eyes would be searching for him. As he walked cautiously to his closet, he pointedly avoided looking in her direction just in case, unsure whether he could resist the temptation of getting back into bed with her. Half dressed, he finally gave in. She was still sleeping soundly, in the same position as he'd left her-a tangle of hair spread out over his pillow and the covers tucked carefully around her. A sharp pang of need mixed with desire, almost impossible to describe, ultimately led him to look away. It was just too much. He had to finish getting dressed, had to meet with Agent Shaw, had to catch that bastard. Right now, there wasn't really any room for anything else.

He finished dressing in the diminishing shadows of his room-he could have done it with eyes closed-and walked out to the living room. And then he took out his phone, a new one, thank God, in order to do the one thing he was dreading the most. It couldn't be put off any more. There might be no time later.

"Rebecca? It's me, Seeley."

Her tired voice came in an irritated whisper. "Seeley, it's barely 7 in the morning on a Saturday. What is it?"

"Look Rebecca, I'm really sorry, but I need to talk to Parker; it can't wait."

"Are you kidding? He's sleeping, Seeley; we all went to bed late-we just got back from Connecticut last night."

He felt himself losing patience. It took an almost superhuman effort to moderate his tone; anger wasn't going to get him what he wanted with Rebecca. It never had. "I wouldn't be bothering you if it wasn't important. It'll only be a minute. Please." Begging again; so often it seemed like the only way of getting access to his son.

There was silence and then he heard a soft intake of breath. "Oh my God, Seeley, is this about the Jeffersonian? Were you there yesterday?"

"Yeah."

"I'm so sorry-did you know that guy?"

He wouldn't go there. "Later. Rebecca please, I really want to talk to Parker."

And suddenly she knew why he was calling. It was one of the things she had hated about being with him and one of the many things he hadn't been willing to change for her. The anxiety, the worry. He could hear that she still felt something, if nothing else on Parker's behalf. They had been connected for so long, and that connection lived on in their son. She didn't press for any more details; she knew him too well.

"I'll go get him. Give me a minute, okay?"

He heard her voice once again, now tinged with anxiety. "Parker, honey, your dad's on the phone. I know you're tired, but he really needs to tell you something."

A little more cajoling, and then a sleepy child's voice came on. "Yeah dad?"

"Hey bud. I'm sorry to wake you up, but daddy has a big day today and I might not get the chance to talk to you in a while." Just saying the words hurt.

"Okay."

"Parker, I want you to know that I'm going to do everything I can to be at your game tomorrow afternoon. I know you're going to do great. I'm really proud of you, bud, always. You know that, right?"

He heard a yawn. "Uh huh, dad."

"I love you Parker, I want you to know that too. Are you listening? It's important."

"Yeah, I'm listening dad. Love you too."

"Bye Parker."

Rebecca took the phone. "You take care of yourself, okay Seeley?"

"Thanks Rebecca. Take care of Parker." The words were unnecessary, but he felt better saying them.

"Always." He could tell she was upset; it didn't seem fair that after all this time she still had to worry, not in her new life. She deserved to live without fearing every news report or phone call. And he wished for her and Parker's sake that that one fateful call wouldn't be coming today.

He stood in the quiet of his living room, a debate raging on in his head. Should he wake Bones up and tell her he was leaving, or should he let her sleep and write her a note? She had brought her car, she could leave on her own later, after she slept a little more. Besides, she was so tired…and it was so easy to slip away. Doing it this way involved a minimum of awkward goodbyes and the issuance of promises that might be impossible for one or both of them to keep. In his heart he knew the note was the coward's way out, but he was also superstitious; waking her up would entail an admission that he might never see her again, like it had been with Parker. It was such a close call.

Don't do that to her, his conscience whispered. Don't let her wake up alone, wondering why you left. Even if the doubt lasts only for a minute. She's been left behind before; she'll take it the wrong way. She deserves more than that.

Then another voice. And what if she doesn't react the way you want-what then? His mind had no answer to that question.

"Bones." He was sitting on the edge of the bed, lightly shaking her shoulder. "I'm so sorry to have to do this."

"Booth?" Her drowsy eyes became focused and she smiled at him. On scanning his form further and seeing how he was dressed, her expression changed. She was hurt.

"You're leaving?" She had forgotten.

"Agent Shaw-she's meeting me at my office at 8:00 this morning."

All traces of emotion left her face. "Broadsky."

"I didn't want to wake you up but I needed to…" he didn't want to say it. "I needed to say goodbye-to make sure you were okay."

She took his hand off her shoulder and brought it up to her cheek, her hand pressing hard on his, looking stricken. He hesitated for a second, trying to find the courage. He had to tell her.

"I also need to say something else, in case I don't get another chance." He looked at her in earnest, willing her to believe him. "I love you."

"Booth." Her eyes filled with tears, and he had to fight to keep his own at bay.

She wanted to speak but he shook his head and smiled ruefully. "No, please. Don't say anything-not right now. Let's save something for later; maybe give me something to look forward to, yeah?" And that was the coward in him again, the one that needed breathing room for doubt.

She was looking at him intently and her accompanying silence dared him into saying the rest. "I'll see you tonight, okay." It was meant as a statement but his voice broke, making it sound more like a question instead. She couldn't fail to know what he meant by that, and he saw immediate understanding register in her eyes. To see him tonight not just as a partner, but as a man. The seconds it took for her to reply felt like the longest in his life.

Tightening her grip on his hand, she nodded. "Yes-tonight."

The words were said in utter seriousness and he knew that she meant them, at least right now. It was all he needed to hear, and he found himself smiling for real for the first time this morning.

"Please be careful."

Leaning over and gently kissing her lips in reply, he caressed her cheek with his thumb, carefully wiping away some of the tears that had quietly slipped down her face. The morning had just gotten a little brighter.

He was still smiling as he got up. "Hey, I'm the best, remember?", he said with an arrogance he didn't feel. "Together, we're the best."