Lots of fluff, I should just warn you. Fluff, romance, B&B, sweet. Just pure cotton candy. Have your toothbrush at the ready, people, cause you're gonna get a cavity once you're through with this one. Also hurt/comfort fluffiness.

Disclaimer: Swiggity swotis, I don't own this!

Game Changing Night

Takes place in The Change in the Game (Spoilers)

Booth shuddered as she let her walls come down – crumble, really. Every heave of her shoulders only increased his anger and hatred for the sniper somewhere still out there. To hell with sleep, he thought bitterly, I could kill Broadsky right now, barehanded!

Even as he thought it he tightened his grip on her. She was the only thing keeping him from ripping off his blankets, marching down to the lab and calling the team to get back to work. The son of a bitch needed to be found.

Poor Vincent. Poor, poor Vincent.

"I'm so sorry," she continued to sob, though she sounded calmer – if only slightly. "I'm so sorry."

He wasn't sure if she was saying it to God, the Universe, to him or to Vincent. Maybe all of them. He only wished she would stop. His constant murmurs of comfort and reassurance didn't do any good, she probably didn't even hear them, so caught up in the world that was her brain. She mourned for her lost Intern, saying his name with such despair it caused Booth to rethink her belief that her heart wasn't as big as the next person's, or as warm. Obviously, she wasn't heartless. There were numerous cases where she'd gotten information from making things personal, as well as cases where she couldn't see anything because it was so personal. Crying was something not unfamiliar to him that came out of it for her. Or taking someone's life, which she'd done. He knew that pain.

There were times when she'd told him she didn't get people like he did. Or she could never have what he seemed to effortlessly give to people in the interrogation room. What he did to get information from suspects. That she didn't and couldn't have his kind of open heart. She said she could never do that. Before, she'd even said that she couldn't change; she was a scientist. But to that he called B.S.

Because that didn't make any sense.

She'd only become emotionally distant and – to be bluntly honest – messed up when she had to go into Foster Care. Countless foster parents and homes left her scarred in so many ways.

She'd only picked up science and anthropology along the way. Along the lonely road after her parents left and Russ left and her hope left. Taking up every spare minute with classes and homework and research. She'd told him about the notebooks ranging in the high teens. She had boxes in storage somewhere in town of notebooks with hardly any white on the pages from her notes taken on anthropology and the many sciences she masters in. She told him that every notebook, sometimes two of them, were from the same book that she'd read. She'd taken every vocabulary word and defined it, every paragraph and summarized it, every chapter and broke it down, every question and answered it, until she could relay the knowledge right off the bat, as if she had the books right in front of her.

Because how else do you become the best in the world? His bitter thoughts came once again.

He rubbed her back and arms soothingly, – or at least what he hoped was soothing for her – not really knowing what else to do but keep her from going back to the real world. Or maybe that's what she needed. He didn't know.

Was she so into the real world that she was freaking out, or did she need to come back to it because she was so far away? Were the results either way the same? Would he be right to pull her away from wherever she was?

He only shook his head sadly at those thoughts, instead tuning into her voice. She spoke softly, maybe mumbling to herself; somehow no longer the whales and moans of emotional pain she felt in her heart. Confusion and sadness the main filter of her words.

He hadn't heard what she'd said. "What Bones?"

"It's not fair," That was about the hundredth time she'd said that.

"Yeah, I know Bones. I'm sorry." He kissed the top of her head, then her forehead.

"If- if there was a God," she stammered, fighting another wave of sobs. "I mean, why put a person on this Earth- just to die?"

"We all die someday." He tried reasoning.

She moved to look at him, their faces so close he wondered if, in her state, she even noticed. "Yes, but that could have been you. It could have been any of the other Interns had it been their week. If there had been no Intern, it- it might've been Hodgins. Or me, if it was just us on the Platform." She held his gaze. "He was going for whoever picked up the phone."

He looked back at her blue eyes, made more prominent by the red he saw around them. She was still against him, but more out of physical need than his firm grip on her. There was a dim light he recognized in the swamp of unfamiliar he gazed into. There was no formation of words to describe how badly he wanted to wash it away.

He gingerly placed a hand on her cheek as she continued, brushing his thumb across the skin under her eye.

"If Vincent had so happened to be s- sick this week, Wendell or- or Arastoo might have filled in for him, then we'd never see one of them again. And Sweets," she almost let out with a sob. "Booth he loves Ms. Wick. What if she had been the- the Intern of the week? There would be no telling what would. . .become of him. Booth. . ."

She fell into him again, sliding her head onto his shoulder. He kissed her hair and held her close. Rubbing her arm, her shook his head. She was unbelievable, more than she knew or could ever be modest for. He couldn't help but smile a little, just a faint twitch.

"You're in this state. . ." he paused. "Because you're affected by what might have been? You realize you're doing the exact opposite of what you normally do." He let that sink in.

"I don't care, Booth." She jerked her head up suddenly. "For now, tonight, tomorrow, I'm going to say what I feel. You want to know the truth, fine! Here it is," Brennan readied herself as she sorted her distorted thoughts on what she was going to say next. "I feel love, Booth. I do. I- I don't ever say it. I haven't since- I haven't said it and meant it sincerely- I mean there's Angela, of course, I don't mean to say-" She shook her head and rested on his chest, dejected. She started over.

"I love Angela. And Hodgins. I love Cam and Sweets. If any of them died, I don't know what I'd do. I love you, too, Booth. I'm so pitifully, painfully in love with all of you. I know I'm bitter and cold and rude and blunt. And hurtful comments come out of my mouth all the time. But I can't help myself from correcting someone or- or stating a fact that's more obvious to me than everyone else. To me it's just common knowledge. But I love all of you. It's irrational and everything I've known for over half my life started to falter when I first met Angela. She was the first person I met and eventually grew to love. She was the first since my parents left.

"And then I met Zack," at the mention of her old assistant, Brennan laid an arm over Booth's chest, and she gradually stopped her fit of tears. "And he was so smart and efficient in his work. I saw, in him, myself – or apart of myself. And I grew attached to that part, and more, even though- even though it cost me – everyone – in the end. Then Hodgins got better and became more likeable." She gave a small laugh and he rejoiced silently in a new sound coming from her that didn't make him want to throttle somebody. "So naturally I bonded with him. Angela and him got together, and I suddenly had a new respect for him, though I'm sure I never showed it.

"Then Cam came and took charge of the team. She immediately hit it off with everyone, even Angela thought I should give her a chance. Not to mention your past with her. I did, eventually, give her a chance. Now I love her. And then Sweets came along. You and me were the first to actually form a bond with him, even though we mostly fought and our relationship was solely based on therapy. He always put up with it. He still does. Then he started dating Ms. Wick and. . ." She trailed off, finding words to say next. She carefully moved her head to his shoulder more, instead of scrunched under his chin. "And then there's Caroline, whom I don't think particularly likes me much, but even so I find her amusing and therefore find I have a small affection for her."

They went silent for a while. Booth had listened to her speak, her tone gradually changing from its previous broken-heartedness to almost completely normal. He couldn't see her face, though she still sniffled and she hadn't moved much, and he gathered she must still be crying some. She thought he'd fallen asleep during her speech, but his breathing was normal and relaxed, not slow as in sleep.

Finally she broke the quiet. "I find I'm avoiding what I'd actually like to say." He silently told her to continue, though physically told her by moving the hand on her waist to her head and rubbing her side affectionately. He kissed her forehead. "I find that out of all the people I love, I love you the most, Booth. But not in the way that I love Angela or Anthropology. Booth, I suppose- I just hope what happened with Hannah, and in the blizzard. . .that, well, it's not to say that I expect a response, I mean I expect a response, but I know you're still angry and- just," she sighed. "I don't know. Please don't hate me for bringing up Hannah." He still hadn't said anything and she didn't know what to do. She closed her eyes against his chest and waited for him to respond.

"Bones," he said finally "Would I do any of this if I hated you?" His partner sniffed. Behind her closed eyes, she listened to his voice intently, knowing what he was talking about. "You mention Hannah. . .Fine, whatever. It's in the past. But I already told you, I'm not mad at you. I realize now that. . .Maybe my actions have portrayed that, but honestly," he paused, holding her tighter and emphasizing his meaning. "Honestly, you are the last person I hate right now."

Brennan wiped her face, removing the tears. Regardless of the fact that she was the one to change the subject, her thoughts kept going back to Vincent. She sat up, removing herself from him, feeling uncomfortable. She was surprised when she felt him lean up next to her. A warm arm was placed around her again, and though she was wearing his sweatshirt still, she found the extra warmth more comforting. She didn't know why, but she stopped to think about the way his arm was over her. Personal, intimate. He definitely wouldn't put his arm around Daisy or Angela like he was now.

"Why now?" He asked. She knew what he meant.

"It's foolish, maybe because of Vincent, maybe the stress of Broadsky- I don't know," she stopped, suddenly remembering- "Booth! We need to sleep- oh God, why did you let me keep you up? You have less than two hours!" She hit his shoulder, more forcefully than if she were playing. She forced her head in her hands, this day, this night. It was all a wreck.

"Hey, hey, Bones," He held her to him. "Don't stress over it."

"That's all you have to say?" The tears were coming again. "I can't not worry about it. I could very well be the cause of your demise-"

He held her out so he could look her dead in the eye, almost nose-to-nose, cutting her off. "Stop. Right there. Don't you even. I'm not going anywhere, Bones," he grabbed her hand, covering it with his own and hold it to his chest. "After Broadsky's in jail, you'll be the first person I call."

Brennan looked down at their hands. Mixed emotions of wonder, sadness and, maybe, relief. She was getting cheered up.

She looked up at him through her eyelashes, briefly; just a flicker. Before she even said anything she leaned into him, slowly. Just like their relationship. They met fifty-fifty, halfway between the two of them.

There was a spark, the spark, and she was encouraged to kiss him as openly as she dared. He cleared the hair from her face, her bangs, her locks, her strings. He loved his partner so dearly, and he could only express that in the simplest of kisses at the moment. They needed to sleep.

"Booth," she pushed at him lightly. He relented, continuing and deepening the kiss. She felt sheepish at the fact that she was the one breaking it off even though she'd made the first move. "Booth- oh hell." She gave in.

Before she knew what was happening, she was on top of him. Though their hands didn't roam anywhere, she had the strongest feeling that if she let it, this could go many steps further. As much as she – they – both wanted to, she knew better. She knew he could wait, and, more than anything, she knew she could. She pulled away effectively, a finger on his lips.

"What?" He asked, true worry written in his features and in his voice. She hated the sound of it. She wanted him to know that she did want this.

"You are the only person that can make me say 'um'," she said simply.

"Huh? You didn't even. . .say 'um'." He met her eyes evenly, equally. He was happy to see the distraught emotion that flooded her eyes minutes ago was now completely gone.

"I almost did," she said softly. "just now." She offered a weak smile. He placed a hand on the small of her back, the other on her cheek. "I'm scared Booth."

He caught a tear rolling down her cheek. "Broadsky?" She nodded, finally moving the finger from his mouth, curling it into a ball in her fist. "I'm going to get him, Bones. You don't have to worry." He kissed her again, gently, surprised she let him at all. Somehow, it felt natural, like he did it every day and he always would. She was his best friend and he loved her, no matter how much she truly annoyed or aggravated him sometimes. Laying in his bed with her, the suggestive position they found themselves in, it felt normal.

Were they really going to do this?

Another tear escaped without her control.

"I'm right here." He flipped them over so they faced each other on their sides and he clasped her hand in his between them. He kept a hand pressed to the small of her back.

"I don't- Are you sure?" He nodded against the pillow they shared. "I mean you and me, we-"

"Are going to be fine." He finished. "There's nothing in this world that's going to shake me. I promise."

She nodded, burying her head in the center of his chest. His arms came around her again and she fell asleep to his voice, a hushed murmur in her swarm of thoughts.

"Broadsky," she said aloud. "He won't get between us. Or the Jeffersonian." She promised to him, succumbing to the warmth of him.

In two hour's time, she would wake with the light coming through the blinds just a little brighter and Booth looking down at her from his perch on his elbow. And she'd smile.

Yeah, I know. Brennan actually said "I love you" in a few chapters past and I said it was her first time saying the actual words. Oops, my bad. I suppose this means you'll have to dock me points? I understand. There's a lot of stuff I mess up on, and will continue to mess up on. Even so, I still believe this is the best chapter I've written yet. More to come tomorrow. That's all for tonight.

If you haven't reviewed yet, please at least review for this one because I liked it so much. Just type in a simple "thumbs up" if you liked it, "awesome" if you really liked it, "aight" if it was pretty good, or "okay" if you liked it but it wasn't your favorite.