Disclaimer in Chapter One.

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Author's Playlist: Take a moment to listen to Civilias' Anything But You.

CHAPTER FOUR: Learning

"The only limit to our realization of tomorrow will be our doubts of today." – Franklin D. Roosevelt

As the sun rose and the butter yellow of its rays poured through the tall windows on the eastern wall of the room, creeping across the dark hardwood floors and eventually onto the luxurious dark blue Egyptian cotton sheets, two bodies twisted in the early moments of wakefulness. Bodies shifted and moved slightly as the light began to gently wake them, hands touching briefly and sleep muscles involuntarily tensing and relaxing as each registered subconsciously that morning had arrived. The woman's eyes fluttered open and closed again as she sleepily reached for the warm male body next to her. His arms encircled her firmly and pulled her face into his chest. Angela smiled her favorite secret smile into his flesh and let out a deep sigh of contentment.

"Good morning." Jack's voice was rough with sleep and she felt her stomach flip-flop in the most familiar and delicious of ways. "Did you sleep well?"

"Better than I have in a long time," she answered, honestly, that smile forming again, her lips pulling back to reveal white teeth that longed to nip at the flesh beneath them. She wondered if he could feel it against his skin and if he knew what she was doing, what she was thinking. At one point they were connected enough that he would have. She felt the now familiar momentary pang of regret for the time that had been lost and then banished it firmly for the last time. After their hours of honest and sometimes heartbreaking discussion last night and in the two weeks before that, she was ready to let go of the past and move forward.

"You know, I think this is a first for us." His hands tightened even more, forcing her face up to his, the heavy-lidded gaze of sleep on his face doing little to hide the growing heat in his eyes. "Sleeping in my bed and actually just sleeping."

Her breath quickened involuntarily. She felt her body respond to his without conscious thought, with the flutter of anticipation in her heart and stomach, and the pooling of liquid heat between her legs. His thigh, clothed in the pajama pants she had purchased for him years before with Beaker from the Muppet Babies on them, slid between her thighs. She was too distracted to laugh at the familiar cartoon. His lips settled on hers softly and then with more pressure, pink against pink, pushing and pulling – learning again.

It was the first time that Jack had really kissed her in quite a while. They took their time, exploring what was familiar and at the same time different. Their lives, though connected through work, had taken them in many different directions and their bodies had changed. His tongue caressed her bottom lip and an involuntary, quiet exhalation of breath that sounded more like a moan vibrated from her lungs to his. He inhaled it quickly, drawing it into himself as if to savor it, and pressed his lips against hers again, the subtle opening of her mouth an invitation for him to explore further.

The knocking on the door of his bedroom halted any further adventures. Jack's forehead leaned against her shoulder with a groan that was anything but satisfied and she giggled in response. She would never get used to the fact that Jack actually had a butler; a butler who frequently knocked on his bedroom door at odd times. She frowned at the clock on the bedside table and the reminder that it was a work day. Apparently 7:30 was not considered too early to knock on the door.

"What is it Max?" Jack was aggravated but trying to hide it. Max would not have interrupted unless it was important. She brushed a kiss across his shoulder and reveled in the happy sigh that released against her skin.

"I'm sorry to bother you, sir, but Dr. Temperance Brennan is knocking on the front door and she claims she has urgent business with Ms. Montenegro that cannot wait." His voice was respectful and calm through the wooden doors. Angela sat up swiftly, immediately knowing what this must be about, Jack shifting away just as quickly and easing out of the bed.

"Please show her to the green living room and tell her we'll be down in a moment." Jack was already pulling on a t-shirt and bathrobe. She barely glanced at her shorts and tank top as she pulled her hair back into a hasty ponytail. She wondered when she had become so parochial as to wear pajamas to bed. Jack's hand slowed her quick march to the door and spun her around to face him.

"While I enjoy sleeping with you with nothing between us, I had to tell you that you look beautiful right now in this outfit." He pressed his lips firmly against hers before murmuring again, his lips still brushing against hers. "Take care of our girl while I help Max make breakfast. She could probably use some coffee."

"I love you, Jack." She wanted her eyes to convey that she truly meant it and she knew they did when his answering smile was as warm as the one she could feel involuntarily spreading across her own face.

"I love you, Ang." He stole her lips one final time and moved toward the door, heading toward the cavernous kitchen in which she longed to experiment once again. She moved in the other direction, toward the green sitting room, the most relaxed of the rooms in this home for receiving guests. She wondered when Jack would finally get around to the redecorating he claimed he was always just a month away from.

Brennan was sitting on a chair in the corner of the room, her usual upright and rigidly correct posture nowhere to be found. She was hunched over, as if the very life had been sucked out of her and stolen away. Her shoulders dropped and head dipped forward, as if she was curling in to protect herself. Angela had seen this pose several times in the last two weeks. Her gaze was on her hands, and as Angela neared, she realized Brennan held her cell phone delicately, staring at it as if the very thing would bite her.

"Bren?" When her dearest friend raised her head, Angela was shocked to see tears in her eyes. Angela had never seen Brennan outright cry in her presence with the exception of their confrontation in the bathroom so recently, and with a low cry of sympathy she sprang forward to envelop her friend in the hug she knew that she needed. "What is it? What happened?"

"Booth—" She choked on a quiet sob and leaned into Angela's shoulder, her fingers clutching at Angela's shoulders, her delicate frame shaking slightly.

"Oh my God, did something happen to Booth?" Angela froze as the sudden fear of something terrible happening to the man that she loved as a brother washed through her. Brennan did not respond but continued to stand, silently. "BRENNAN!"

The loud cry startled her friend, who breathed deeply before releasing a watery breath. "No, no, he's fine. Nothing happened to him."

"Then what is going on?"

"Angie," her friend's eyes closed involuntarily with the weight of what she said, "You were wrong. It's too late, Angela. He doesn't want me anymore."

Never had she even considered the possibility that Booth would reject an overture made by the woman that he loved and confusion filled her as she stared into the devastated face of the woman she loved like a sister. "What happened?"

"He called me." She mumbled the words and slipped to sit into a chair, her body curling protectively into itself again.

"That's good!" Angela sat next to her, forcing the two of them practically on top of each other. Brennan would never admit, but the woman who was so comfortable with dead things craved human touch when emotional events occurred, even as she compartmentalized it away into her brain and pretended nothing ever changed.

"He called about a case, Angie. I missed the call because I was in Limbo and left my cell phone in my office." She sighed heavily and Angela almost rolled her eyes before taking charge.

"You sound like you're fifteen. Let's listen to the message together. I'm sure that you are overreacting." She grabbed the phone herself and dialed for voicemail. In moments, his familiar, rich voice was speaking to them. Angela immediately recognized the hesitancy in his tone and her heart ached for both of her friends who were so hurt and desperate to figure out how to be together.

Hey Bones. Uh…sorry to bother you at work. I…uh…we've got a case here in Philly that is giving us some trouble. A few bodies with nothing much left. Our ME has asked for some special assistance and the….uh…well, the Jeffersonian knows what it's doing with dead bodies. I'll give Cam a call and officially make the request in a few minutes, but I just wanted to give you a heads up because….well, because you're the best. Listen, I know things haven't been right between us lately, so if you don't want to come out yourself…um…I would understand. I don't want you to be uncomfortable. Anyway…..thanks……..Bye.

Angela focused on the long pause before he whispered goodbye, as if he were reluctant to hang up the phone and on the very audible tremor in his voice as he whispered his worry that she would reject the opportunity to see him. She turned to her friend and grabbed her by the shoulders.

"Calm down. That man is just as in love with you as he was before he left, probably more so." She shook her head in frustration. "Did you ever send him the e-mail I told you to write? Did you ever call him? You've been agonizing over this for weeks!"

"I couldn't decide what to say." Brennan shook her head slowly. "Everything sounded trite or silly or ridiculous. I didn't know how to explain what I was thinking. And then, eventually, it became easier to just let it go and wait to see if he called."

"Is that what you want?" Angela exploded, standing up from the seat, anger in her eyes and voice even as Jack appeared in the doorway with coffee cups. He stopped, frozen, at the scene in front of him. "Do you want to move on and give up and just let him go? After everything you told me? After everything you have thought and said and felt? You're just going to give up?"

She was on a roll now. "The Brennan I know wouldn't be a quitter. The Brennan I know wouldn't give up on someone they loved, wouldn't abandon someone they loved because it was too hard. Is that who you are now?"

"NO." Finally, Angela thought to herself, finally the fire and passion that surged through the veins of Max Keenan was awakening and rushing to the forefront of his daughter's psyche, ready to fight for a worthy cause. Finally, the desire for life was taking over, the desire that Booth himself helped cultivate and tend and grow from a tiny, scared seedling unwilling to reach up out of the earth toward the sun. Brennan stood up from her seat, her face resolute. "No, I'm not going to give him up."

"Then what are you going to do?" Angela goaded her, voice rising even louder, urging her to release all the emotion in a way more fundamental than tears. The emotions between the two women in the room ran higher and higher, anger and frustration and sadness mingling and turning into rage. Angela wanted to push it into Brennan, to mold it into motivation, to force her to realize what she felt and send her forward to do something about it. To break her out of the scared holding pattern her friend was stuck in, even after realizing she felt something for Booth, circling the same spots in her lab and apartment, unable to grasp the possibilities of the future.

"I'm going to go to Philadelphia and tell him how I feel." Brennan was practically shouting at her. "I'm going to tell him that I want him back. I want him here. I want him with me."

"WHY?"

"Because I love him." The words that Angela had expected, prayed, to be delivered in a shout were delivered in a stunned whisper of disbelief as her friend's eyes widened in understanding and acceptance of all the lessons Angela and Booth and Cam and Max and even Hodgins had been teaching her for the last five years. "Without him, my life isn't fulfilling. Without him, the air just isn't enough. You were right, Angie. That is what love is."

"Oh, sweetie." Angela embraced her friend, whose body no longer shook with hidden sobs at the misconstrued message. She was standing straight again, shock on her face and happiness in her eyes, and Angela felt herself begin to tear up even as Jack's hand rested on her shoulder, squeezing firmly in support.

"You've got to tell him, Dr. B." Jack spoke firmly and Brennan turned, surprised to see him, her normal awareness of her surroundings off-kilter as the events around her unfolded. "You have got to go to Philadelphia and tell him how you feel. You've got to tell him to come back here."

"His family needs him, all of his family. We're his family and he needs us just as much as we need him." Angela laughed suddenly, joy spilling out of her chest, despite the tears leaking from her eyes. She had never experienced before what she would literally call tears of joy – until now. "And he needs us. He'll come back for you in a heartbeat."

"I'm going to Philadelphia." She was already moving toward the door and her gait increased as Angela and Jack struggled to keep up. "I'll see you at the lab before I leave. I need to confirm reservations and let Cam know what is going on. I'll pack and meet you at work before heading to the lab this morning."

"Pack something sexy to wear at night." Angela winked and Brennan blushed – she blushed. Angela could feel her mouth drop open, shock on her face. How puritan of her friend who was so comfortable with human sexuality.

"I'll do that." She said primly, before walking resolutely out of the door and forward toward her goal with purpose in her steps.

Jack's arms around her tightened and his laugh against her neck was joyful. "You did good, baby."

"She did better, Jack." Angela laughed loudly before turning around to kiss him fiercely. "She did better."


Cam was waiting in her office when she arrived at the Jeffersonian, carry-on suitcase trailing behind her quickly, her feet moving at a brisk pace. The doctor with whom she often quarreled carried a one-way ticket to Philadelphia and requested only that Brennan keep her informed of the investigation at all times, confirming that Booth had called and placed the official request with her. As she turned to collect her kit and lab computer, Cam caught both her attention and her wrist firmly in her grasp. "Good luck, Dr. Brennan." Her tone was calm and devoid of emotion, but her eyes were smiling. Brennan could only nod in response.

Wendell waved from the platform and wished her a safe trip and watched her walk out of the front door. She wondered if they were all aware of how miserable she had been and where she was now going. She wondered if they pointed and stared and talked about her behind her back, a thought that bothered her until she realized that she would have done the same thing. Brennan was the unusual one here, the little girl who didn't know how to love someone properly but who was slowly learning. She was the blind man finally learning to see. If Booth were here, he would make the appropriate religious references. It's called faith, Bones.

Well, she had her own faith now, she was finally realizing. She didn't believe in God, or a higher power. She didn't believe in a master creator of the universe or one being that held dominion over all. She didn't believe in organized religion.

She believed in Seeley Booth and in his love for her. She believed that she needed that love in her life.

Max Kennan was standing at the foot of the steps from the entrance to the building, clearly waiting for her, his car parked at the curb – illegally, she noted. She did not, however, comment on the vehicle's location, but instead loaded her bag into the trunk swiftly as he got into the car and sat in the passenger seat without a word, smiling in her father's direction. Her two feet pushed against the floor of the passenger side of the car, mentally willing the car to go faster, faster, faster. Now that she had made the decision to go, to see him, to speak with him, she wanted to do it in person. E-mail was impersonal. Phone calls could be misinterpreted. Booth could read people, but the one person she realized he could read better than anyone else was her. He read her eyes and her voice and her heart. But he couldn't do any of that when they weren't face-to-face. Faster. Faster.

Max hugged her at the airport curb and wished her luck. As if everyone in her life was lining up to cheer her on. She accepted the support. She signed an autograph at the counter for the woman who printed out her boarding pass and thanked the young man who helped her transport the heavy portable lab kit to the plane. Faster. Faster.

She sat in the first row of the small plane taking her from Washington Reagan Airport to Philadelphia International Airport. Carefully, she outlined exactly what she wanted to say to him with pencil and paper. All the logical arguments for why he should return to Washington. All her thoughts over the last three months and her realization that he was as vital to her as the air her lungs required and the oxygen that pumped through her body, carried by red blood cells.

Brennan pondered the outline she had written feverishly and wondered if Booth would listen to it. She reminded herself of her newly discovered religion, her faith in him that for so long she had accepted without appreciating, and wrote more.

Everything she valued in her life, the science, the logic, she had learned. She learned from the masters of each discipline. Doctors and professors who knew more about bones and tissues, minerals and chemicals, human civilizations and rituals – until she had surpassed them and learned more and she became the teacher. She grew and learned and was stronger. Every time she found something new, a puzzle or enigma, she probed and questioned and worked at it until she unlocked or untied the solution and she added it to her mental cabinet of knowledge, secure that forever after that she would have that answer.

She could think of no one who knew more about love than Seeley Booth. He loved his country and the men he fought with in the military. He loved his job and helping people, even if they didn't deserve it, or want it, or appreciate it. He loved his son more than life itself. He loved his friends at the lab, despite the fact that they were so different from what he had previously known. He had opened himself up and learned from the masters of the scientific disciplines. So many people professed to love others and yet destroyed those very words with their actions. Booth's love for all things was apparent in every action, even the ones she didn't agree with or the ones she argued against.

It was only logical that if Brennan were to learn how to love again, she would learn from the only master of the discipline that she knew. Booth.

The plane taxied to the terminal in Philadelphia and she forced herself not to sprint out the door and into the waiting area where a young man with a sign with her name waited, his suit disheveled and his face fatigued. She tried not to be disappointed that Booth was not there to meet her but wondered if it showed on her face anyway.

"I'm Dr. Brennan." She presented herself to the man and handed him one of her cases.

"Good afternoon, ma'am. My name is Special Agent Samuel Aarons. Agent Booth sends his apologies for not being able to meet you in person but unfortunately, two more bodies have been discovered and he was called away to the scene." He was already grabbing her other bag and striding quickly toward the exit to the airport.

"Does it appear to be connected to the previous bodies?" She slid into the car he had waiting at the curb and they sped away. Her heart beat faster at the thought that where this journey ended, Booth was waiting. She spoke of the case but her head was focused on two separate topics.

"This body was found only 100 feet from the previous bodies, positioned in the same manner. These bodies are just as decomposed as the previous."

"Was there any flesh left on any of the bodies at all?"

"No, ma'am. Agent Booth had the CSU lab techs take a full array of samples at the first scene and I am sure that he is doing the same at this scene. He warned us you wouldn't be happy if the crime scenes were compromised in any way." Aarons smiled at her then. "He's holding the scene for you right now."

"That's…good to hear." Her voice stuttered slightly and she hoped he could not hear it, as the car slid into the parking space in Fairmount Park and shut off. Crime scene tape was blocking off a large swath of wooded area and cop cars filled the parking lot. She collected her lab bag and followed Aarons through the mud.

Voices were shouting as a tent was being erected to protect against further rain, which drizzled even now on her head, causing her to shiver. Bodies shifted this way and that as she trudged forward, pushing through the muck and absently wishing she had her galoshes with her. Her eyes searched, straining, to see his familiar shape, the familiar build she knew so well. Suddenly, the crowd parted and he was there. Her breath caught in her throat, in her lungs, in her stomach and she stared.

He looked tired, as if he had not slept in days, but his eyes lifted from the conversation he was having with a female CSU officer and met hers. Eyes that looked sad and fatigued, but that lit up momentarily at seeing her. His lips lifted slowly into a smile that made her stomach warm and she felt her mouth involuntarily return it.