Chapter 3

Day 3: Sunday

She looked nervous as she clutched the well worn boot box in her lap and tried to explain.

"I didn't know what to share, Booth."

Watching her carefully he tried to reassure her that whatever she'd picked would be enough. After all, it wasn't a test. There was no grade or pass/fail thing going on. It didn't help. Nervously she fiddled with the old string wrapped tightly around the box to keep the lid on.

"I know but you shared something very special with me and I want to share something of equal importance with you." Nodding, he tried to reaffirm her. He had a feeling that what was about to come out was going to be far above his original expectations.

"So, whatcha got in there, some old bones or something."

She tried to laugh it off but she was nervous. "More along the lines of, 'or something.'"

Still gripping the box firmly she tried to explain. "I thought about sharing some bones with you. I have a collection of bones I use for teaching, they have very specific injuries on them. They are quite fascinating. I thought I might share my the military collection with you. I have bones dating back to before the Crusades all the way through our more modern conflicts. Each exhibits the injuries left on bones from weapons common in those conflict."

Her mind back on the safe ground of science, he watched her relax as she explained. "They're at the Jeffersonian locked away down in limbo. I bring them out for my grad students to study. Learning to see and even feel the subtlety of bone injuries isn't easy. These bones help. I thought you might..." Her voice trailed off.

"I would love that. You know me well, Bones." A warm smile met her nervous eyes. Quickly she looked back down at the box in her lap.

"I realized, though, that sharing the bones was more like sharing something for you because it would interest you rather than sharing something close to me. Although, admittedly, they are a prized possession they aren't..."

Again, her words trailed off. He quietly reached out and put his hand over hers, he hoped it would calm her. The sun was setting and warm rich light streamed in her windows. She looked so worried and nervous. He hadn't meant for her to take this challenge so seriously. It was supposed to be fun and lighthearted, something that helped them get past being friends and partners, something that connected them on another level.

Squeezing her hand lightly to show solidarity and support he whispered her name to get her attention. "Temperance." Her eyes, which had darted all over the room, taking in just about everything but him, finally connected with his. It was jarring. "Whatever this is, in this box, you don't have to do this if you're uncomfortable. I don't want to push you like that. Hell, you made me dinner, my favorite dinner. That counts as sharing something wonderful right there." He smiled warmly at her.

A deep gasping breath, a nod as acknowledgment, he could feel her pulse race where his hand laid carefully over her wrist.

"Thank you." There was a long pause, those stormy eyes of hers held his heart. "I need to share this with you. I want to." He moved his hand as she tugged on the strings to set free it's contents.

"This box has been with me since family services came to pick me up from my house when I was fifteen. I was allowed to take just a few things, I gathered what I could quickly. Some clothes and books and pictures, memorabilia. It unintentionally became a memory box, important things I didn't want to lose or forget I put in here."

A soft smile turned the edges of her lips, she knew he would recognize a few things in the box. Without having to say a word their presence in the box would mean something to him. Lifting the lid she pushed the box towards Booth.

"Bones." He was speechless, so honored by her gesture. Taking the box carefully he set it on the coffee table in front of him and slid off the couch so he was sitting on the floor.

The first item he remembered. Well weathered pieces of an old belt and dolphin belt buckle. Holding it gingerly he let his thumbs run over the delicate carved design. He'd watched her do the same when they'd realized the bones she'd been identifying from limbo were those of her mother.

"I remember this." He acknowledged their shared memory of that time. She nodded. Not exactly sure how to handle each item he looked to her for some kind of cue. Did she want to talk about it or just acknowledge it? She was quiet, just watched as his hands traced the intricate designs. There were several dolphin items that Max had given his wife. This one had been buried with her. This one held personal memories for Bones, one of the few memories she retained from her childhood. He set it down carefully on the table next to the box and reached in again.

Still seated on the couch she scooted closer to him and peered over the rim of the box to see what he pulled out next. Her hands were clasped together resting on her knees. Long thin delicate fingers folded carefully in anticipation.

He brought out a small handful of pictures of various sizes and shapes. All of them seemed faded, some yellowed with time. They seemed so much smaller, dwarfed by his large hands. He thumbed through them. She was so young in all of them. They all seemed up close, nothing to identify time or place was evident in any of the pictures. They'd been on the run, he reminded himself, a life purposefully devoid of detail. He hesitated to ask the context.

"Most of them I'm unsure of. I can tell you about how old I was and a few memories associated with that age."

Taking the pictures she shuffled through them quickly. "This was the first day of high school." She pointed out the belt buckle she'd tried to hide under a her blouse. Touching the picture reverently she pointed out the bright shiny belt. They laughed over her youthful attempt to be sneak her mother's belt. "She had to have known I was wearing it."

A couple more pictures and there was her and Russ and her mom on the beach. One from when she was just a toddler on Russ' lap at Christmas. She took great care in how she held and described each picture to Booth. Some he'd seen duplicates of in the FBI file on her parents. There weren't many pictures of her childhood, not even a handful really. Carefully, he set the pictures down and reached back into the box.

"Let's see here, a box within a box." In his hand he held a small white box like you might put jewelry in as a gift. It was old, dirtied with age. He opened the box to find nothing. Turning to her he sought and explanation.

Letting out a deep sigh she started to explain. "Remember that science fair I told you about yesterday?" He did and nodded his affirmation. "I won." He watched the fond memory dance over her expression. "My mom was there with me, it was, it was one of my clearest memories of her." Her face lit up with excitement and joy as she told the story's beginning then fell, sad and distant, as she continued. "I lost the medal when I was in foster care. Well, I should clarify. It became lost to me." Booth looked confused. "I think it was taken from me." She shook her head as if trying to make sense of it all. "Either way, it's lost to me."

Booth's eyebrow shot up as he waited for her to tell more of the story.

Taking in a shuddered breath she reached for the empty box running her fingers along the edges as she continued. "They were my first foster family. When I got there they said they wanted to know all about me. I shared many things with them, more than I think they really wanted to know. I included my win at the science fair." She became awkward and unsettled the more of the story she told. "They thought I was trying to assert myself as being better than them. That really wasn't my intention but they felt my intelligence, my grades and accomplishments, were offered as a way to make them feel less than or inferior, which wasn't true." Her head dropped, her focus riveted to her hands in her lap.

"I'm not good at that, I don't understand it, never have. He lifted her chin gently bringing her focus back to him. "I believe they took the medal, though I have no proof. They asked to see it again and when I went to look for it, it was gone. I tried to find it. They thought it was funny. Maybe I did lose it, I really don't know." She saw his worried look and tried to sooth it. "I have the box though."

He carefully returned the lid to the box and set it by the pictures. "Let's see, what else we have in here." He hoped for something lighter, a happier memory. "Hmmmm, a man's cufflinks, bet there's an interesting story behind these. She blushed, as a satisfied look overtook her.

"I'm not sure you want to hear this story, my sexual experiences tend to bother you." She poked at him verbally, teased his jealous spirit.

"I'm curious. Was it recent?"

"No. It was years ago."

"Okay, go ahead and tell me, I have to know."

Reaching over she plucked the cufflink from his hand and dangled it between them. "I was twenty-two years old and while I had offers I had yet to experience sexual intercourse."

His eyebrows shot up. "You were a virgin until you were twenty-two?" He couldn't hide his shock.

"Virgin is such an antiquated religious term." Her mouth turned, like she'd eaten something sour. "But, yes, I was." He was clearly shocked by her confession and humored by her discomfort with the term virgin. "Do you want to hear the story or not?"

"Yes, of course." He leaned back, his head resting on the couch, turned to take her in as she animatedly offered up her past.

"He was a man..." She started but then stopped taken by his obvious amusement. Though they had talked many times about her sex life, too many for his liking, he'd never seen her look so young and flustered. A shy satisfied smile beamed back at him as she finally continued telling him her story. "I waited until I had found someone who I thought could give me a skillful introduction."

"A skillful introduction? To sex?"

"Yes." She offered up defensively. "It's a biological process, Booth, having someone that knew and understood how to evoke those reactions increased my odds of having a favorable experience."

"I'm sorry, Bones, I just, it just shouldn't be about skill especially that first time." Rolling towards her, he took stray curl between his fingers, twisted and let it fall across his hand. "It should be about desire and love and passion." Their faces drew close together. Cradling her cheek with one hand he let the side of his face rub up against hers until their lips brushed into a kiss. He made his way back to her ear, nuzzling into her."You should feel swept away." He whispered into her ear. It took her a few good breaths to get control back.

"Anyways." She cleared her throat as she tried to regain control. "He was the head of the Social Studies Department. I was his teacher's assistant. He brought me home to my apartment after a Department formal dinner. He was wearing a tux and I was in a formal gown. I felt swept away, it was very sensual." She dangled the shiny cufflink in front of him letting it settle back in his hand. "I found the cufflink when I was cleaning some months later and kept it."

He tossed it in the air, caught it, then set it carefully on the table. He dug back into the box and pulled out a simple brown rosary with wooden beads. He turned back to Bones confused.

"It was given to me by a family in El Salvador." He held the rosary as she fiddled with the simple wooden cross that dangled at the end. "It was a thank you for my work. I went down there to identify victims of the death squads." Something flashed in her eyes, a fear and determination, that begged further questioning. Reaching for her with his free hand he offered her support.

"It was bad down there." She searched his eyes unsure how much to share. Taking in a long breath she decided to reveal a little more than she'd planned. "I was kidnapped and held hostage for three days."

"Bones, I -"

"Booth, I'm okay, really, I am. It made me stronger."

He nodded, quietly as he put the rosary down. He studied her worried that maybe they should stop, call it a night.

"I'm fine, really." She reached in this time and pulled out a small round casino chip and placing it in his hand.

He chuckled, flipping the chip in the air and caught it. Raising his hips off the floor and maneuvering his hand into his pocket he scrambled around until he found what he was looking for and pulled out one similar, just much older.

"Vegas, baby!"

She took both chips in her hands as she examined them closely for differences. "It was a good case, right? I enjoy our undercover work very much." Her eyes lit up, sparkled.

"Uhhh, that little black dress and Roxy. You were, wow, you were very hot, Bones. I didn't think I was gonna make it through that case without, wow, it it was hard."

She laughed, bumping his shoulder. "You were pretty hot yourself, Tony." They laughed and shared stories back and forth. It was a good break from some of the weightier topics of the evening.

Then he took the chips back in his hand, put hers on the pile of memorabilia, and shoved his back in his pocket. Curiosity got the better of him, he bumped her shoulder, and asked. "So, do you still have that dress?"

She giggled. "Yes."

"Okay, let's see here." A folded up piece of paper that looked like it'd been torn from a book was next. It looked dirty but not too old. He started to unfold it thinking that maybe it was a page from her first book but she grabbed it from him.

"I can't, that's, I can't share that yet." He started apologizing but she cut him off. "It's not you. It's me. Maybe later, you know, but not tonight."

"It's okay, Bones, it's yours. I hope you don't feel like you have to share any of this if you don't want to."

"No, no, I want to share. I chose to share this box with you but this I can't. Not right now." She tucked the folded paper back in the box. She picked the next item. Pulling out an old smooth soled tennis shoe she turned it over and showed it to Booth. It had only been about a year since he asked if she kept a list like the foster kid they'd questioned. He looked stunned. Reaching for the shoe he held it like a prized possession. He couldn't help but think of his partner young, alone. His finger traced the faint writing on the bottom of the shoe. Easterbeck, Hayward, Wilson, Brant, Stuart, five names in all, five homes that didn't want her, that said she was too much work or too difficult. Homes and families that didn't work out.

"Were they abusive, these homes?" She flinched.

"Yes." She forced a breath in her lungs, forced it out again. "Yes, some of them were."

Setting down the shoe he wrapping his arm around her, pulled her into his side, into safety. Holding her tightly he added a confession of his own.

"My dad, was a drunk, a mean one."

She was shocked by the confession.

"My mom, she left, couldn't take the abuse. She did the right thing for her. He nearly killed her more than once."

"She left you?"

"Yeah."

"Booth."

"I'm sorry, you've just, you've shared so much tonight, I just felt like I needed to tell you, you know, something personal, about me. Let you know you weren't alone, you know?"

He picked back up the shoe, stared at the hand writing he'd read in notes and paperwork everyday over the last several years. "Which was the worst?"

Without any hesitation she responded. "Easterbeck." She let out a long sigh. "It was bad."

She offered nothing else, no details, no explanations. He didn't require any. That was a discussion for another day, another night. They held each other for a long time and then Booth moved to start putting the items back in the box only to discover one more item rolling around, I small pink plastic pig.

Booth smiled. While the seeing the casino chip among her memories was special it was a reminder of shared experiences. This, this was something he gave her that held such importance to her that she kept it with her most prized possessions.

"Jasper." His voice soft and low as if he was greeting a long lost friend.

"My pet pig." She answered softly.

It was late by the time the box was put back together, tied tightly, and back in her personal safe. She put up a good front but Booth was worried about her. That was a lot to open up about in one night. She felt a little raw to him, very vulnerable. He worried about leaving her like this, it didn't seem fair to ask her to be so open then leave her defenseless. Or maybe she wasn't, maybe he just felt the need to protect her now because he couldn't then.

He feigned exhaustion and asked if it would be alright if he stayed the night on her couch. He could leave early and go home to get ready for work. Of course, she said yes but insisted he take the guest room and a real bed, which he accepted gladly.

Tossing and turning, he couldn't sleep. No matter where his thoughts started the ended with her held captive by guerrilla forces in Central America or taken advantage of by an older more experienced college professor. Visions of her beaten or worse by foster families who had taken her in under the guise of providing a nurturing home seemed inescapable. It's probably the only reason he was awake to hear her scream. It wasn't that loud, he definitely would have missed it had he been sleeping, and she only screamed once.

He bolted for the door and into her room, not even thinking to knock or ask permission. He was at her bedside immediately. Fearful eyes looked up at him, covered in sweat, she panted hard as she choked and gasped for air.

"I'm here, I'm here, okay? Nothings going to hurt you. I won't let it, okay, Bones? Understand?" She was in his arms immediately as he continued to reassure her, talk to her in hushed calming tones. She clung to him, clinched fists full of his t-shirt. No matter how tightly he held her the only thing she said was, "tighter." It came out like a plea for the safety he offered her.

He crawled into bed with her wrapping his strong, sure body around her quaking frame. "I won't leave, okay? I'm right here, baby, I'll keep you safe. I promise."

Softly she begged. "Tighter."

A/N Okay...honestly did you think this would all go smoothly – if it did it would surely not be a story about Booth and Brennan, right?! How do you think she'll react when she wakes up in the morning wrapped in Booth?