Thank you! Reviews are like tiny voices in my head (you know, besides the other ones) telling me to write more. And I'd just like to say, Akasha-0703, that I'm honoured! ;)

Oh, and this chap is a bit shorter. It was either that or no chaps till next week. Work begins again, people! I probably wont be able to post a chap a day (ha! More like one a week, I'm afraid). Sorry. Please don't kill me. Please?

I'd just admitted to myself that I had feelings for Booth.

Oh, God.

"Bones, you moaning isn't really helping this situation!" he said through gritted teeth. I sensed that, once again, the anger shimmered just beneath the surface.

But thanks to my ability to compartmentalise, I noticed this while, at the same time, most of my brain was screaming. Screaming because it had just hit me.

It was that late?

I was that late to catch up on what had happened?

Oh, God.

Unbidden to my mind, a strange picture began to form. I imagined, so clearly I could almost touch it, that I was standing in a corridor. I had been walking along it, carefully, because it was filled with slender glass snowflakes. Some were big as my head, others smaller. If I had so much as twitched, one of these would smash to the ground, and the rest would follow. Chain reaction.

And then I twitched.

Now, sitting here in this car, I could practically hear every delicate star-shaped crystal crashing down, shattering into a million pieces, and that in turn making the others around it break, until the whole corridor shook around me, and I ran, trying to avoid the wreckage and the glass flying everywhere.

"Bones, I'm serious. Stop it. Just… please, breathe normally. For me. Please."

I hadn't realised I was breathing shakily.

The small part of my brain which still seemed able to work noted how my body, once again and without my consent, reacted to his words and his admitted arousal.

I couldn't believe it. Feelings? What kinds of feelings?

Attraction was a feeling. I struggled desperately to go back, back to the blissful ignorance of before… but no, that wasn't the context in which I'd imagined it. I had been thinking about emotional connection, not just physical.

And it hadn't really been blissful ignorance, had it? Part of me had sensed what was coming.

I wasn't that clueless.

And suddenly I realised something else. But this brought relief. Delicious, bone melting relief.

Nothing changed.

These feelings, this strange connection I felt with Booth changed absolutely nothing. I would still stifle it and smother it until there was nothing left, and then we'd go back to normal. He was obviously attracted to me, but this I had suspected before, and he didn't feel anything. Nothing beyond sexual attraction.

Nothing.

How strange, that this new-found relief could evaporate so suddenly.

But I clutched my safeguard with strength. It still changed nothing. I would eliminate these feelings and we'd heal. We'd hold once more. We had both decided to live. And we were friends, partners. I managed a small smile to myself, as I realised I'd get to keep him. His comfort, his determination, his bravery. I'd get to keep him as a friend.

"Bones!"

His voice cut through my chain of thought. And might I just point out that the word chain in this context doesn't really reference a connected, flexible series of links, typically of metal, used especially for holding objects together or restraining or for transmitting mechanical power.

Just to avoid possible confusion.

Booth's voice was like the saw that would cut…

Well, you understand.

"Bones."

"What?"

"Bones, it's him!"

"Who?"

"Mr Bram! Look!"

He pointed, and I squinted through the sheen of frozen rain beating down on us.

A dark figure was running toward the block of apartments we'd parked in front of, but there was no way of telling whether it was really Frank Bram.

"I'm going to go pay him a visit."

Booth opened the car door and I followed. The heavy rain was freezing, but I welcomed it. Because it was cold.

"Booth!" I yelled over the sound of the downpour. I knew that anyone standing a couple of metres away wouldn't be able to hear us. Certainly not Mr Bram, or whoever it was running toward the apartment building.

"What?" he said, without turning to look at me.

"We can't know if it's him!"

"I still have to check. Stay in the car!"

I didn't even answer, but followed him as he ran toward the suspect.

*

"I told you it probably wasn't him!"

"We had to check anyway!"

"I think you frightened that boy quite a bit! I don't think he liked you."

"Yeah? Well I think that boy really liked you."

I wrenched open the car door and got inside, feeling sufficiently wet and cold. Booth did the same and we both sat down.

To my surprise, his hair looked oddly attractive when it was wet. In fact… the entire Booth looked very, very good soaked in water. More… primal.

Wait.

Okay, what? I couldn't be thinking these things. I had vowed not to do exactly that, and here I was thinking words like primal and animal and wet hands, and wet bodies and… oh, boy. This would be difficult.

I took a deep breath and just as I expelled the air and closed my eyes, I realised this brought consequences. Consequences I couldn't help but revel in.

"Bones."

"Sorry."

I couldn't believe we were talking about this so calmly. Well, I wasn't calm, but we weren't shouting or anything. Like I wanted to.

I took off my drenched jacket and twisted to leave it in the back seat. This movement was followed by yet another groan.

"Sorry."

I wondered what I'd do if he took his jacket off. Would he be surprised if I admitted it was bad for me if he did that? Or would he be pleased, like I couldn't help being whenever he said my name in strained tones, fighting the urge to do things to me…?

It didn't matter. I tried telling myself this, like a mantra. Otherwise my sharp imagination got the better of me. Partners. Friends. Think of Booth talking to you, not kissing you madly…

Booth joking around on the platform. Booth guessing my passwords. "I know you, Bones". Booth saying my favourite words "Bones, we've got a case, come on". Booth and I speaking at the diner, loudly drawing glances our way with our discussions. He called them bickering. Booth admitting it when he was hurt, or sad. This never happened often. Booth needing time, but not space. Booth trying to heal me. And succeeding.

It worked.

I stared outside, not seeing much. I hater Frank Bram. Why couldn't he just come so that we could question him? Bastard. He'd probably killed those people, all the facts seemed to point to him.

There was another groan from Booth.

"What is it now?"

"Nothing."

How was I supposed to know that my wet clothes clung transparently to my body?

.

.

.

.

.

Yeah, how was Bones supposed to know that?

Well, looking down seems waay too obvious. Hehe, but that's just me being cruel. Anyways, thanks again for the reviews. Learn that green button. Love it. Push it.

The next chap might take a couple more days.