*Several lines of dialogue between Angela and Brennan have been taken directly from "The Hole in the Heart" Bones episode, and I take no credit for them.

What was it? It was right there in front of her, somewhere on that spartan metal table. Something obvious, something important; she bit her lip in frustration at the patent inability to solve what should have been a simple puzzle. Frustration brought anger, and anger only brought further confusion; there seemed to be no way out of what looked to be an endless maze. She was like the proverbial rodent on a wheel-running and running, and going nowhere.

So it was happening already, just like she predicted it would. What she feared the most with any type of emotional involvement-the loss of focus, of perspective, of control. And for all intents and purposes, the loss of sanity.

On any other given day the murkiness in her mind would be nothing more than an irritating inconvenience, but today, with her partner's life hanging in the balance, it took on the form of an unforgivable affliction. The irony was that all she needed was right here, in the collection of methodically cleaned and arranged bones that had once been Matt Leishenger. Right here-so why couldn't she see it?

Why indeed; she knew perfectly well why. Go back to your time in Booth's bed, Dr. Brennan, and do the math...

Booth moving over her, kissing her, his rough, masculine hands deft and sure on her bare skin. His voice husky, a growl of need whispered just below the ear, soft grunts, a gasp for air and finally his name for her, barely audible, as his hold on her body involuntarily tightened during release. And in the coldness of the lab she felt yet another jolt of electric heat running through her, starting very near her heart and descending deep, deep down into her belly. And once again it left every nerve ending it touched raw, exposed. There was the memory of her own unadulterated responses to him, asking, demanding, begging. How on earth was she supposed to regain any measure of objectivity when all she could think about since waking up this morning was how fiercely she wanted him again? So much by way of acute pleasure; but ultimately, the knowledge that it was a lot more than this.

After a moment of brilliant clarity where everything she wanted was shown in high relief, where she finally accepted the possibility that they might just be enough for each other, she had taken the leap into the unknown with the certainty that Booth would be there to catch her. And he had, just like she knew he would. She had trusted, and in doing so had come to believe they had a future. Without that hope, she had nothing. Their partnership, their friendship had been left behind on the cool white sheets of his bed. From now on, they would either move forward together, or not at all. The point of no return: there had been complete awareness of where they stood with that first kiss.

And so it was that after all these years, Temperance Brennan had finally given up trying to direct every aspect of her life. The process had been gradual and not at all easy. Booth had long been hauling the unexpected to her door and though she seldom acknowledged it, she actually found the unpredictability to be rather exciting; it made her feel alive. Her eyes were opened to the fact that living life according to plan was oddly unfulfilling. It lacked the spark that made for dreams and creativity; as an anthropologist, she was only too aware that those two single traits were almost all that gave people their humanity. Her partner brought surprise and chaos into her world and she found she liked it, craved it even. And last night? Last night was all about trusting that this next unpredictable step in their journey wouldn't destroy their connection. In any event, her options were severely limited now. Withdrawal was no longer an acceptable choice-if Maluku had taught her anything, it had surely been that.

But what about this morning's maddening situation? With an ease that still amazed her she had deceived herself into thinking that there wouldn't be lasting consequences to their lovemaking. Consequences that in this instance might just prove to be fatal to him. How could she fail to take that factor into account this one time? It had certainly been a consideration in the past; she wasn't a novice at relationships. She'd felt their impact on her work, most notably with Michael and later with Sully, although in both cases the distraction had been challenging but containable. Zack had perhaps been the biggest surprise so far, maybe because she hadn't realized just how big of a part of her life her co-worker had become until he wasn't there. But she always knew just how important Booth was, and she had lost him before and still managed to function. Besides, it wasn't like she hadn't gone over the possible ramifications of being with him numerous times in her head. So why were things this morning so different from what she expected?

The answer was as obvious as it was disturbing: there were other factors now-feelings she had not counted on. She wouldn't put a label on them, because categorizing what they were only made them scarier. Definition meant acceptance and acceptance led to commitment. And though likely that this was well on its way to happening already, even with her formidable processing skills she could only handle so much at one time.

She held the skull up to the glaring fluorescent light for the hundredth time; tiny fractures covering its surface like a myriad roads going nowhere. Cracks pointing to a struggle preceding death, but nothing more so far. She set it back down. If she couldn't bring her rational processes to bear, then last night's choices had truly been in error after all. If something ended up happening to Booth, something that would normally be in her power to prevent…

She thought of Booth again, acknowledging that last night had been as huge a risk for him as it had been for her-in some ways maybe even more-because his heart had been exposed for such a long time now. He was so loving, so patient last night, even as she mindlessly tried losing herself in the frenetic pace of their joining. She knew he deliberately delayed the end in an effort to bring them back to a place that was purely about them and not anything else. And she was grateful, because today there wasn't a shred of doubt in her mind that the decision to be together had been a conscious one and not just the byproduct of events they couldn't control. Only once before her troubles at the lab had started this morning had she come to think it was all a big mistake. Awaking to find Booth dressed and ready to leave, her heart had instinctively shrunk with dread and disappointment, ready to barricade itself in all over again. But it wasn't like that at all; there was a job to do and an obligation to a friend, and she of all people understood that. And he loved her. He had told her, in that tone of voice he always used when he really, really needed her to believe something. She had felt him love her.

So why hadn't she said anything back? Maybe, her life as a scientist was demanding more proof. But no, that wasn't even remotely accurate-she had all the proof in the world; years of evidence, all carefully collected and stored away. It was just another leap, and in the clear morning light she had been terrified of taking yet one more, even when she suspected that her heart had already done it for her.

No, please. Don't say anything-not right now. Booth told her he didn't want anything in return and she found comfort in that at the time, but now her conscience was telling her she should have tried regardless. They had both been afraid-he of the reply, she of the truth, and now there might be no time to tell him.

He would need an answer eventually, about the murder, yes, but also about them. The answer to how the victim died would probably prove to be simple and clinical. But what about the way she felt about being with him? She was sure that even though he might not want to hear it, Booth would demand a brutally honest answer; he was the bravest person she knew. He was used to her being nothing but truthful and in this instance anything but the truth was unacceptable. Tonight-she would pull herself together and try to show him tonight that she had finally made up her mind, even if she couldn't say the words yet. If there was a tonight.

Another indulgent glance at the evening before, another bolt of lightning that left her on fire. She was so used to thinking in high concepts and equations, but these images were purely sensory and elemental in nature, overloading her system and wreaking havoc on her ability to think. And there was another kind of worry. Showering this morning, it had suddenly come to her that they hadn't used any means of birth control-mistifying how utterly absent this concern had been last night. Doing a quick calculation of the odds, she pondered about choices. She could stop by a pharmacy on her way to the Jeffersonian; there was still time for that. It was the logical, responsible thing to do, and she dismissed it outright. If Booth died today, she wouldn't do away with the only thing she might have left of him. It was as simple and illogical as that.

She picked up the skull again, feeling like she was caving under all the pressure. Maybe, if she could say something, talk to someone, it might generate some perspective. But wasn't that exactly what had gotten her into all this trouble in the first place? Immersed in the deepest misery, she didn't see Angela walk into the examination room.

"You've been staring at Leishenger's skull for a long time. You trying to get that thing to talk to you?"

"The mastoid process is generally not a target in close-quarter combat. Perhaps I should examine it microscopically" she said with no emotion, fully aware that she was hiding under the cover of scientific jargon.

"You told me that an hour ago. What is going on?" Angela, kind and always perceptive, saw right through her.

"Is this about Vincent?"

"Yes."

"Yeah…?"

"And…I got into bed with Booth last night."

Angela stared at her in wordless shock-and why not? She herself shared in that amazement. Still, her friend's silence was unnerving, holding as it did the possibility of judgment.

"Why aren't you saying anything?"

"Cause I don't want to shout Hallelujah! so close to losing Vincent."

"I think I did it because of Vincent."

"Well, what exactly happened after you crawled into bed with Booth last night?"

As she was debating her choice of words Hodgins suddenly barged into the room, a whirlwind of loose energy and barely intelligible information. His wife looked at him in appalled horror. After the third frantic and unequivocal "go away" he retreated, looking for all intents and purposes like a man fearing for his life. In this case, it might not have been far from the truth.

"Well?" Angela asked, barely containing the excitement in her voice.

She took a deep breath and lowered her eyes to summon some courage. "We slept together."

"Oh. My. God."

After a brief pause, Angela smiled with genuine happiness, a smile which was just as as quickly followed by a frown of concern. "And are you okay with that?"

Staring at the exam table in thoughtful concentration she responded "yes, I believe I am" with a shrug of her shoulders. It was as deliberate and accurate an answer as she had ever given anyone. "Other than for the complete loss this morning of my ability to think rationally."

"Well, it happens; trust me, I've seen worse. So…..how was it?" Angela caught herself and shook her head apologetically. "I don't mean the nuts and bolts, sweetie; just the generalities."

She looked at the table again, her eyes far away from its contents. "I guess it was different than I thought it would be. I knew it would be pleasurable and intense-highly physical; it is Booth after all" she said, trying to suppress a smile. "I mean, it's not as if I haven't often thought about what it would be like with him. And it was good; it was wonderful, in fact. But there was more than just the mechanics." She looked up. "It made me feel safe Angela, and wanted and...loved" she added with a slight shake of the head, feeling somewhat embarrassed by the uncharacteristic, emotional admission.

"Awww, Brennan," Angela sighed; "that's because Booth loves you. He's been in love with you for a long time; we've all known about it forever. His feelings for you are kind of like the 800-pound gorilla in the room: pretty hard to miss."

"I keep wondering why I didn't let myself see it fully before. All this time, even after he said he wanted to give us a chance. I still refused to see it. I even thought that anything he might have felt for me was gone after Hannah arrived."

"No, not gone honey. Just buried. We've all done it; it's called coping. And I think you purposefully didn't let yourself see it so that you could let him get close to you without having to put up your usual barbed wire. And now that you do see it, it's too late to keep him out-believe me. Funny how that works."

"Please don't tell anyone, Angela," she pleaded. "I know that I'm placing you in a terribly uncomfortable situation with Hodgins, but I'm not ready yet-not right now. And it's not just my secret."

Angela touched her shoulder affectionately. "Don't worry-I can keep a secret. Besides, I've known you a lot longer than I've known Hodgins. I wouldn't have even met my hubby if it wasn't for you. I think I owe you a little bit of personal and professional courtesy on that one."

"He woke me up this morning to say goodbye, Ange" she said sadly, her eyes suddenly brimming with tears. "He also asked me to see him tonight; I knew what he meant by that-it's not just about our work anymore." She couldn't bring herself to repeat the other things he told her.

"And what did you say?"

She looked at Angela. "I said yes."

"And are you?" When there was no response, Angela became visibly concerned. "Well?"

"If he comes back, I will see him."

Angela nodded reassuringly. "Of course he'll come back sweetie; Booth is really good at what he does. He'll get that bastard."

"You can't know that-no one can."

"Well, I think you just gave him one hell of an incentive to get back here as soon as possible. He's the best; Broadsky won't beat him."

"That's what Booth said, but you don't understand. He doesn't have all the information he needs; something is missing." Her frustration began showing itself again as she pointed to the table. "It's right here Angela, right here, but I can't find it. This is exactly why I didn't want to get involved with him. Relationships obscure everything."

"They also make a lot of things way clearer. Look hon, you just need to step back and collect yourself, and you can't do that by standing alone in this room hour after hour looking at those empty eye sockets like Hamlet in a bad high school play. You need a distraction-specifically, you need my husband."

"I don't understand."

"You need someone here at your side to interact with, bounce ideas off from. Hodgins can help you get out of this bad place you're stuck in and back into the game-I'm getting him for you. If anyone can help find what you need, it's Hodgins." She turned to leave. "Oh, and in the meantime, stop looking at that skeleton and try saying a little prayer for Booth-it might make you feel better. "

She shook her head dismissively at the suggestion. "You know I don't believe in the power of supplication, Angela. It's a waste of time to request a specific outcome from an entity which most likely doesn't exist. Even if it did, surely Broadsky is requesting a diametrically opposite result."

"You don't believe in it, but Booth does. So maybe if we all combine our thoughts, all that energy can affect how things go. Quantum physics and all. You don't know for a fact that it won't work, do you?" There was no answer. "It can't hurt, and maybe on some level he'll feel that you're rooting for him." Walking away, Angela stopped suddenly at the door and cocked her head.

"Hey, we're going to get you your boyfriend back, okay?" At the mention of the word "boyfriend," her own eyes widened in surprise as full awareness of their possible new standing which each other hit her.

"Don't look at me that way, 'cause he's definitely all yours now, babe. You finally get that ride all to yourself. Punch-buggy, no punch back; comprende?"

Despite not knowing what the phrase meant, she understood anyway. No matter what happened, there would be no exchanges or returns. The answer had been there all along, right in front of her. And for the first time since she was a little girl, Temperance Brennan found herself voicing a hesitant, hopeful prayer to whomever might possibly have a hand in determining the future of one Special Agent Seeley Booth.