Feels like coming home

2 – Returning

"Booth"

"I'll never leave you. If you trust nothing else, at least never doubt that"

"I trust you"

His eyes were as dark as coal, something she never believed his chocolate browns could be. His breathing was labored, as his torso was hovering hers, the drops of sweat shining in the moonlight that entered through the windows. It made him look almost ethereal, as if he had a halo surrounding him. It made him look like an angel.

He was smiling that ridiculous half grin of his, but his eyes conveyed much more than lust, they spoke of adoration, appreciation, care. She decided that she didn't want to hide anymore, she just couldn't hide from him, because he knew her better than she knew herself. And she was sure her eyes spoke just as loudly as his.

"I love you" As soon as she said it, she knew she couldn't take it back. And the amazing thing was that she didn't want to take it back. It felt right, safe, home. That's it. It felt like home. He felt like home. And that was what made him better than everyone else she dated previously. They might have cared for her, they might have even loved her, but they were never home.

His breathing hitched, and he was now wearing his full charm smile. She felt like flying. If she knew that saying those words would have that kind of effect, she would have done it sooner. Or probably not, because he deserved to hear her say it and mean it. He deserved the world, and at that moment, she promised herself that she would give it to him. No changies, no take backs.

Brennan opened one eye slowly, as if she was afraid of what she was going to find. There was the room, the windows, the moonlight, but there was no one else in there with her. She looked around. It felt so real, that reality seemed strange. She was hot, sweaty, flustered, and panting; exactly like she had just finished a very vigorous workout session.

It was nothing more than a dream. Another one of her very vivid, very graphic dreams. She was, after all a writer. She painted pictures in her head, just as colorful as Angela. The differences between them being that Angela saw real people and painted emotions and she only saw fictional characters and wrote physical reactions.

The dreams had been more and more recurrent. They had begun early in their partnership, but then they were full of angry lust. Then they changed into companionship. Now, they were full of all the above and more. It wasn't the first time she told him she loved him. In her dreams, she would tell him over and over again. But awake, she still dismissed the idea. Love isn't real.

It was five in the morning. Too early to get up, and too late to get back to sleep. She decided on the first one and took a shower, making herself ready to head to the Jeffersonian. It was no use staying at home. She would end up reliving her dream, so that she could analyze it, and dismiss it, like all the others.

Once again she looked around the apartment. She could almost feel his presence everywhere. Either it was on the pictures in the bookshelves, or in the brand of beer in the fridge. Even Parker had his space there. Brainy Smurf and Jasper were carefully situated in the desk, next to her computer. It was the place where she spent most of her time.

The car ride to the Jeffersonian was quiet, and as she watched the sun rise she thought of Booth again. And Angela's words that the sunset was more beautiful when you had someone to appreciate it with suddenly made sense.

They hadn't seen each other in a week. They had finish their last case, which had been pretty straightforward, and after that he started working on a case in cooperation with the Narcotics division, to which she wasn't needed, and she buried herself in Limbo, as she always did. Even the phone calls had been less frequent, though he always called both at lunch and dinner time to make sure she ate. She always called at night to ask if he needed any help, which he denied every day.

So when she arrived at the Jeffersonian she made a beeline to her office, only stopping to greet the night guard who eyed her with a knowing look. What he knew was lost on her, so she just dismissed it and continued walking.

Her lights were on, and her door had been unlocked. She was sure she had locked it the night before so she just reached for her gun, which she still couldn't use, and opened the door very slowly.

There, in her couch was the man of the hour. He was sleeping, one arm over his eyes to shield himself from the light, and the other falling, touching the floor. He had removed his coat, and his shoes, allowing her to see his socks and matching tie. They were orange, as loud as they could be, and had some kind of cartoon character that she recognized from Parker's DVDs. But what worried her was the fact that he was not wearing his cocky belt buckle, but a standard issue one.

He was so peaceful that she just sat at her desk, and pulled her laptop to work on her book. She knew he would wake up soon, so she saw no point on starting a new Limbo case. If he was there, it was because he needed her.

Booth indeed woke up soon after. The soft clicking of her keyboard lulled him back to consciousness, and he believed it was the better wakeup call he had ever had to this day. Of course he could think of a few scenarios that would be better, but this was enough just to make him smile.

"Good morning"

"Good morning. I trust you slept well."

"I'm sorry I just barged in your office, but… I always seem to sleep better in here, I'm still not quite sure why. And I really needed to talk to you as early as you got in, and I didn't want to disturb you early in the morning, you know, the last time it happened you were, ehh, quite busy."

Brennan looked up to take in his appearance then. He was definitely tired, and had very little sleep, if the bags under his eyes were any indication. His gate was misaligned, favoring his left side, which meant that his feet had been bothering him. And he was cradling his right arm, reminder of the bullet he took for her, she was sure. He was rambling about how he slept better in her couch, and he seemed on edge, which also made her nervous. She wanted to help with whatever was making him exert himself this much, so soon after his surgery, but she knew he wouldn't talk unless he wanted to. So she just listened.

"And since the night guard let me in, I just crashed here, I hope it's OK."

"Don't worry about it, I'll just be more careful as to where I leave my manuscript from now on"

He smiled then, a real smile. "Good job, Temperance" She thought to herself.

"Anyway what are you doing in here so early? I expected you here in half an hour."

"I have been here for almost an hour now I just didn't want to wake you up. You looked like you needed the rest. I just couldn't sleep, and I guess after that we had the same idea. Apparently you just though a little faster. So what do you need me for? Anything to do with the case in Narcotics? I thought you said that the victim was already identified, and the killer known, they just wanted you to connect him with some drug circle?"

"What? Oh that, no I already gave them the evidence they needed to arrest the big guys, they just have to find them first." He smiled at her. "No, we kind of have a new case."

"Oh… What are we waiting for then, let's go. Has the FBI secured the perimeter yet? I just hope they didn't compromise…"

"…Your remains, yes Bones they know. You have to start realizing that they can actually do their jobs, and they've been doing it very efficiently for the last 4 years. No, we can't go to the crime scene just yet, we have to wait for Cam, so you can tell her that you are going to Philadelphia with me."

"What? Why would I go there? We have a case, we can't just go."

He smiled again, the woman could make him light up as Christmas tree. She had just told him that she would go with him to the city of Brotherly Love if it wasn't for the case. Oh well, the case was there anyway.

"The case is in Philly, Bones. Apparently some big guy's wife disappeared a few months back, and they found a body yesterday, which they think might be the missing woman. And since power rules the world, and they want the best, they called for us. Well you, really, but I'm always game for a road trip"

Brennan felt herself blushing. As she did every time he complimented her. It was that or the charm smile he was sending her way. Or both. Probably both. She knew that she couldn't say no to him, not when he was smiling and saying that she was the best, but old habits die hard and she found herself protesting.

"Booth, I have hundreds of iron-aged remains to authenticate, as a part of an exhibition that the Jeffersonian is opening in a month, I can't just leave it all behind."

He knew her well enough to know when he had won so, as he saw Camille enter the platform, he just got Brennan on her feet, took her lab coat, with very little protest from her part and with a "chop chop, Bones", and a hand on the small of her back, he just guided her to her boss' office, from where they left, within ten minutes with the request to send the remains to the Jeffersonian as soon as she concluded her primary examination.

Without knowing they were both having similar thoughts, even thought the reasons were quite different.

"And here we go."

Hello guys.

Here it is, the second chapter..

I'm not sure i'm completly satisfied with it, but hey...

Thank you for the kind reviews, and even for the not so kind ones. Hate it or love it, just take some time to tell me what you think

Oh, and thank you for the alerts on the story, and for adding it to you fav stories, or me two your fav authors... it was just wow...

Kiss Muifilipa