Chapter Five: Greater Love Has No One Than This....

After waking up early with his brain crammed full of thoughts of what lay ahead, Booth had finished his morning workout with a knot in the pit of his stomach. Despite the extra time he had put in, the knot had still been there as he still got an early start on the day. The FBI agent swaggered into the lab with what he hoped had been the usual bounce in his step. He wanted to look "normal," and he wasn't above bribing people to make his case. He'd brought food for the whole squint army—donuts by the dozen, coffee or tea made to order for each and every member of the team. As the whole crew except for Bones circled 'round and began to pick apart the provisions, Booth tried valiantly to shrug off the greetings and questions about his long absence. Despite his intention to bolt from the group quickly for the relative safety of Bones' office, Booth found himself engrossed in catching up with everyone. Having seen more of Booth lately than the rest of the team, Wendell had said a few words about how Booth's work on the ice was helping the hockey team compete for the championship. Then Wendell had snagged Bones' tea—and Booth's excuse for escaping—and rushed back to his work on the platform.

Everyone else stayed close and regaled Booth with stories of recent events while also pumping him for information about where he'd been and what he'd been doing. Apparently, they'd missed him, and he had to admit that he'd missed all of them, too. Booth should have been horrified to find Hodgins' latest "bug" story so amusing, but he was laughing too hard to realize how weird that actually was. When Hodgins eventually departed to gaze upon insects only he understood, Booth started becoming uncomfortable being alone with both Cam and Angela. He felt his pulse race as Angela eyed him carefully and suspected something. He tried not to exhale loudly when she walked away without a word. Sensing his relief, Cam said quietly, "You can breathe now, Seeley. You passed the test. Nobody knows."

"What?!" he squawked--not that he'd ever admit that he squawked about anything, ever.

Dr. Saroyan just looked at him in amusement and smiled, "I know you, remember? I can tell that you're a wreck. But you have it together on the outside. Whatever you did to make you afraid to face Dr. Brennan this time must have been huge. But I think you pulled off the act. Nobody else aside from Angela seems to suspect anything. So breathe already. And remember that you can find me if you need to talk or if you need rescuing."

Booth cleared his throat as if he planned to disagree and then thought better of it. No need to look a gift horse in the mouth. Cam was letting him off the hook. "Thanks, Cam." With a sympathetic look back at him over her shoulder Cam walked back toward her office. At times like this, Booth was grateful that they knew one another so well and that Cam had the decency not to pry. Hopeful that he'd manage the rest of his visit to the lab as smoothly as the first part, Booth walked purposefully to the platform, took a deep breath without appearing to do so, ran his card through the scanner, and sprinted up the steps to see his partner.

As he barked out, "Hey, Bones," his partner whirled nervously and stepped in his direction, nearly colliding with him as they ended up face-to-face at very close range.

She'd had to stop herself forcefully to prevent inertia from ramming her body into his. She looked up to make eye contact with him slowly--the closer their bodies had moved toward one another, the less air there had been to breathe for either of them. There had been one of those slow motion-type pauses, one of those screamingly loud silences as they gazed at one another from too close a distance. Nobody took a breath or moved at all. It had been as if time were suspended.

Booth had been the one to back away from the intense stare-down first, "So, Bones, did Wendell bring your tea over?" he asked, knowing the answer but needing something "normal" to say to her.

"Yes. Thank you," she said, turning back to the remains on the platform, needing to immerse herself in thoughts of her work instead of the familiar scent of Booth's aftershave and fresh close range images of the angles and planes of his overly attractive, clean shaven face.

"So...," Booth said enthusiastically, rubbing his hands together and then clapping them loudly. "Speak to me, squints. What do we have?"

"See this mucoid substance spread around the male remains?" Brennan asked, motioning toward the substance she was discussing. Booth wrinkled his nose upon seeing it and then focused his attention on her where it belonged. Brennan resumed her explanation, "We thought this was a foreign substance, but it's not. This substance is located along most of the major joints of the victim's body. He suffered from an advanced case of Myxoid degeneration."

"So what is this Mick's degeneration--what does it mean?"

"Myxoid degeneration—not Mick's—results when the connective tissues such as tendons break down and are replaced by an opaque mucoid matter. This victim suffered from arthritis or another degenerative condition. We're still analyzing the body."

"So his joints turned to... jelly?"

"Yes, I suppose that's an apt description."

"How about the other two victims... Do they have jellified joints, too?"

Brennan squinted at Booth in frustration in that way that drove him literally crazy. He'd said that in a silly way to diffuse the tension on the platform. He'd pay good money for a way to keep that look on her face permanently, "No, they do not show indications of myxoid degeneration. Myxoid degeneration is not contagious, Booth. Only one of the victims had been suffering from that particularly painful condition."

"Okay, tell me something about the other two victims. Do you know cause of death yet?"

"The male with myxoid degeneration and the female buried beneath him both have gunshot wounds. Hodgins is looking for particulates and Angela is analyzing scenarios to see if we can use them to identify how they were shot and postulate the cause of death for them."

"How about the bagman?"

"Bagman? I don't understand what that means."

"The man in the bag. The third victim. What do we know about him?"

"Appears to be an adolescent or young adult. That set of remains was likely transported from another location, and the victim was burned before being put into the bag. Given the level of decomp and the adherence of melted plastic to the remains, we're going to need more time to establish cause of death."

"Good. That's great. Keep up the good work, Bones. How long do you think you'll need—a day or two?"

"Booth, I can't possibly estimate how long it will take us to complete our analysis."

"Guess."

"I don't guess. You want me to hypothesize? Postulate? Estimate? Fine. Four to five days."

"Five days! It never takes you that long when you know this much by now!"

"Science cannot be put onto an FBI case schedule, Booth."

"Are you trying to tick me off?"

"Of course not," she lied.

Booth opened and closed his mouth a few times, each time changing the argument he had planned to start with his partner. If he thought more about it, he'd have realized that Bones had been just pushing his own buttons in order to pay him back for trying to annoy her earlier. Fortunately for both of them, Hodgins and Wendell rushed onto the platform claiming that they were "kings" of the lab.

"We found...," Hodgins began, but Wendell cut him off.

"I found pieces of metal on the female remains. Hodgins and I were able to reassemble them to determine what the broken object was."

"Extra credit for the squints," Booth barked. "What was it?"

"A badge," Hodgins interrupted again, smirking at Wendell because of the maneuver.

"Badge? Law enforcement?"

"Yeah, baby. Baltimore County. Badge number 15684."

"Thanks," Booth said quietly, turning and rushing from the platform.

"What? No 'Kings of the Lab,' no pats on the back, no 'thanks, guys?'" Hodgins yelled after him.

"A cop's been murdered, Jack. A little decorum would be nice," Booth said before leaving the lab. Hodgins shrugged and nodded and he and Wendell left to examine the rest of the evidence for more clues.

Booth called Bones later and left a message explaining that the remains were Lieutenant Shannon Forster. Booth shipped over her file and the medical records. The squints confirmed her identity and established that the other body was that of her husband, Robert. The couple had been reported missing seven years earlier.

After exchanging a series of e-mails and voicemail messages, Booth finally sent Bones a text message to tell her that he'll call her when they brought the family in to brief and to question.

Later that afternoon, Booth called and interrupted Bones' work. She seemed distracted, and he could tell that she hadn't been listening to him closely. In truth, she had been frustrated that he'd calling instead of coming over to the lab. For years when they had reached this point in a case, Booth had rushed over to talk to her personally about what their next move might be. He had always come no matter the state of their partnership or the urgency of whatever else either of them had been working on. She could tell that he had been avoiding the lab or avoiding her—she couldn't be sure which, but she was fairly certain that she was the object of his avoidance. Frustrated by his change in the pattern of their working relationship, Brennan had remained pretty much nonresponsive for most of the conversation. That is, she remained so until Booth suggested that she not come with him to interview the family. Upon hearing those words, Brennan snapped at him and raised her voice as she demanded full participation in the case.

Booth argued with her, but she would not be moved, "This was part of our original partnership agreement. You don't get to change things now, Booth!" The dual meaning of those words pained both of them more than a little bit.

"Dammit, Bones, I don't want to fight with you. After this interview, you can..."

"Are you saying that you plan to keep me out of the interview?"

"I...."

"Because I can take you down, Booth. That's why you didn't come over and tell me this to my face. You knew that I wouldn't stand for this."

"You won't even listen to me, Bones. For someone who claims to be entirely rational, you sure can be a horse's ass when you make your mind up without knowing all of the facts. Let me explain."

Angry, Brennan mumbled something and hung up on him.

Frustrated, Booth jumped up and rushed over to the Jeffersonian. When he arrived and asked Bones to walk with him to her office to talk, she refused. She insisted upon talking to him on the platform despite the fact that this argument would be likely to be loud and painful.

"I told you we should discuss this... in private," Booth tried to whisper through this gritted teeth.

"We're adults, Booth. We should be able to disagree in public," she said flatly, intending to dismiss him and thereby annoy him immensely.

"Been there, done that, got the t-shirt."

"I don't know what that means."

"Whatever, look Bones, just call me when you're finished with whatever the hell is so important that it can't wait five minutes, and I'll talk to you privately then, OK?"

"Don't patronize me."

"Don't be so stubborn!"

"Me stubborn?! I gave you an access card to the platform. I welcomed your presence and your questions and even your blatant skepticism in my place of work. We're partners, Booth. You don't get to decide to cut me out of the rest of the case!"

"I'm not cutting you out!"

"I really don't have time for this!" She stormed off. He clenched his fists and his jaw in frustration and then followed her.

"Bones... Bones slow down and listen."

"You've already made up your mind. There should be nothing left to discuss."

"Bones, be reasonable...."

She kept walking quickly and rattled off her angry response with each passing step, "I'm always reasonable, Booth. You are the one who can't be rational and simply work with me. You're the one shutting me out. You want to shut me out? Fine! Consider it done!" she yelled, slamming her office door in his face and then locking it just to annoy him.

Booth smacked his fist on the door twice just because doing so felt good. When the noise drew out the squints who hadn't already been observing the fight he'd had with his partner, he whirled and glared at each of them individually before growling that surely they had some government-funded work to be doing. They all scattered quickly, but Angela lingered longer than the rest. She shot him a look and nodded toward her friend's office door as if suggesting that Booth "fix" whatever had gone wrong.

Finally alone and able to think for a moment, Booth paced outside Bones' office rubbing his hand on his neck and trying to figure out a way—short of breaking it down—that he could enter his partner's office.

He sighed and walked to the door, rapping on it lightly, "Hey Bones… let me in. We need to talk."

"Shouldn't you be back at Hoover interviewing the relatives?"

"Not until we talk. Bones, I'm not leaving. Open the door so that I can talk to you," he said quietly. Lowering his voice even more, he whispered, "C'mon Bones... I promise you'll understand if you'll just let me explain."

"You have an explanation for wanting me not to be in on the interviews?" she asked from her position near the door, not quite convinced that he had been being honest. He sighed. Hadn't he been trying to tell her that for the last half hour? "Yes. Open the door. I'll explain everything."

He heard the lock click and turned the knob quickly. Finding no resistance, he slipped inside, leaving the door cracked so as not to arouse suspicion but closing it enough to give them some much needed privacy.

Bones was sitting on the sofa. He walked over and sat down beside her—not too close, but close enough so that they didn't have to speak loudly, "Are you finished yelling at me?"

"I'm not sure," she said without glancing up at him. "I thought that things were going smoothly. I don't understand why you don't want me to sit in on the interview. How can we be partners if you shut me out?"

"Bones, you have to cut me some slack here. I'm not shutting you out. It's this one interview that... that I was worried about. Trust me. It's not that I don't need your help or want you there." He watched as her face softened as he spoke to her tenderly. He hoped that she'd finally sit and listen to his concerns.

"You only want me to miss this one interview—not interviews in general?"

"Jumping to conclusions, huh? I must be rubbing off on you," he smiled genuinely at her hoping that she'd cave to the smile. The smile almost always worked. He needed for it to work this time.

In faux frustration, she yanked the folder from his hand and read it quickly. Blinking to ensure that the tears that threatened to emerge were hidden, she fake glared at him and grumbled, "Sweets is right, you know. You do have white knight syndrome."

"And you love me for it," he said with a grin and a nudge of his elbow into her ribcage, hoping that she'd let the joke slide just this once. Fortunately, she just looked at him with a smile that told him that they'd be okay. He was relieved to have thawed her anger.

"Look Bones, if I were you, I'd want to skip this one. But you're my partner. I won't shut you out. You decide."

Tearing her eyes away from his empathetic gaze before it smothered her, she nodded, "I'll come. I appreciate the warning and the concern, but I want to sit in."

Booth considered asking her one more time, but he knew better. Bones had made a decision, and he had to respect it even if he thought she was being rather masochistic, "Interview's at 1:30 tomorrow—will that work for you?"

"I'll be there," she said firmly as he stood and crossed the room to leave. He had to get out of there. Sitting here with Bones felt too good, too comfortable. He needed some space to clear his head.

"Good," he replied, pausing before he reached the door to her office, "Bones?"

"Yeah?"

"Will you tell Angela that I apologized or something? She looked ready to kill me earlier."

She smiled at him mischievously and turned her head at an angle so that she could smirk at him to taunt him, "That depends. Will you promise not to try to keep me out of any more interviews?"

"Deal," he said with a wink and a chuckle before he left the office.

By 1:15 the next day, the daughter of the murder victims and her husband were installed in the interrogation room. Sweets had also entered the room and offered them some coffee. Everyone there had sat drinking coffee and waiting for Booth and Brennan to arrive. When Temperance arrived at the office, she had noticed that Booth wasn't in the interrogation room. Curious, she wandered down to his office and found him there going over the evidence. He had been scribbling something onto a notepad.

"Need help with anything?" she asked as she poked her head into his office.

"What? Oh. No. I'm just wrapping up here."

As they made their way to the interrogation room, Booth grasped her elbow to stop her just before they went inside. Sweets sat with his back to them, so Booth had been relieved not to have to deal with his witnessing their intimate exchange just outside the room, "Bones, this is just really too close to home. It's not a sign of weakness to walk away from this one."

"We've handled difficult interviews before, Booth. I can do this."

"I know you can do this, Temperance. Hell, you can do anything. I'm just not convinced that you should do this." He gazed down at her, his eyes full of concern.

Reaching out to touch his forearm, she smiled and tried to reassure him, "I'm here, Booth. I'll be fine. Stop worrying. You'll get high blood pressure."

"Great, now I'm worried about you and my blood pressure. Thanks, Bones."

They exchanged a smile, and he motioned for her to enter the room, placing his hand on the small of her back out of habit even though they only had to travel mere steps to the table.

After the introductions, Booth and Brennan informed April Westar and her husband Andy that her parents had been murdered. As the woman cried on her husband's shoulder, they told her about how her mother, a police lieutenant, and her father, a college professor who'd been wheelchair-bound, had been murdered. They answered her questions as delicately as possible—watching for her reaction to the news and seeing nothing but grief. April's parents had died simultaneously, or nearly so. They now suspected that they'd been shot by the same bullet, but the lab had been still trying to analyze the specifics of the case, so they didn't reveal that information.

After apologizing again for her loss, Booth asked April to repeat her account of their disappearance from her life when she'd been sixteen. During the interview, Booth kept a close eye on Bones, watching to see if this had put too much strain on her. His heart panged as she asked the questions bravely and clinically—as if she couldn't relate to this woman's pain over being orphaned at about the same age that Bones thought that she had. Brennan had prepared for this to be difficult and appeared to be holding up fine, but she had been more worried about Booth.

Something was off. He hadn't been behaving normally since she'd arrived. The longer the interview continued, the more flustered he became. He stammered more than a few times, and he checked his notes to make certain that he had asked all of the appropriate questions. Brennan had been surprised—Booth never wrote down questions for interviews. He used his gut—not his mind—on those occasions. She didn't know what to make of his strange behavior. She had glanced at Sweets and noticed a look of concern on his face, too.

They had waded through the terribly sad details of April's parents disappearing, and everything seemed to line up with her original report. She'd been shocked to learn that another person had been buried with them, but the woman and her husband had been more sad during the discussion than anxious. Trying not to watch the tender way the man held his wife as they talked, Booth tiptoed through questions designed to rule them out as suspects. Andy got defensive at one point, but April reassured him that they were just doing their jobs. The questions finally answered and Booth looking far worse for the wear than anyone else, the party sat quietly for a moment.

April broke the silence by talking about her parents. Her mother had been moving up the ranks in the police department. Of course she had enemies—she put lots of criminals in jail. Her father worried constantly about her mother, but she had always shrugged off his concern. April painted the picture of a normal, loving family. Her parents hadn't cheated or strayed or done drugs. They had been happily married despite how opposite they were. Quiet and studious even before he became physically challenged by his illness, her father had taken lots of ribbing from his friends about how his wife "wore the pants" in the family. He had never complained, and his wife had always doted on him and shrugged off suggestions that they had anything other than an equal partnership and marriage.

April couldn't remember any big arguments or anything unusual before the day that they disappeared. She still had no suggestions for suspects. As she grew quiet in her grief, Andy spoke up and talked about how everyone loved her parents—how they often hosted amazing parties at their house, etc. Holding April's hand, he informed them that the FBI team that he and April didn't talk of this time often anymore. As he explained the grief April went through when her parents disappeared, it pained Booth to listen to the story knowing how closely it must have resembled Bones' own. Fortunately for the team, Sweets took over and led the questioning then, delving gently into the girl's troubled past.

April had been placed into the foster care system at 16. Andy's parents—her family's closest neighbors—had taken her in. She had been able to stay in the same school and maintain a sense of routine. She'd found it incredibly hard living next door to her former home and watching that house filled with another loving family, but somehow being able to see her past had made her feel closer to her missing family. She and Andy had always been best friends. He stood beside her even when she tried to push him away. Eventually, they had fallen in love.

April finally regained her voice and started to look more composed as she started speaking again, "I don't know how my life might have turned out without Andy and his parents. I might never have known love or true happiness. They stood by me and became my family. Andy... He's the one, you know? He knew it—he was sure about us--long before I was, and he waited patiently for me to figure it out. He has always been so brave, so strong. He was my rock. I could rely upon him and trust him to help me through anything. He was the reason that I survived."

The FBI team had been quiet as they all considered the fact that they now suspected that April's father had somehow risen from his wheelchair and rushed forward to shield his wife from the killer's gun. If the Angelator were correct as usual, the same bullet had cut through both of April's parents. The bullet appeared to be the reason for Robert's death, but it was unclear what had killed Shannon. She had a number of additional wounds that they were still analyzing. But the thought that the man had thrown himself in front of a bullet was echoing in their brains as they listened to the story of love and support from their family. It was clear that April had found the same type of loyalty in Andy.

Booth had been struck by the significance of the fact that both women in this family had found their protectors—men who loved them enough to risk everything for them. As he sat there watching Andy comfort April and saw the way that April's eyes connected with Andy's to communicate lovingly and wordlessly with him, Booth's own heart ached afresh. As he imagined how painful it must have been for Robert to vault up out of his wheelchair to try to protect his wife, he knew what that kind of love felt like. He heard an old Bible verse reverberate loudly in his mind, "Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends." John 15:13—he'd learned that verse in elementary school. The nuns had made him repeat it over and over again after he'd shoved his friend Pete off the slide on the playground. They'd thought Booth was a bully with no conscience. He considered for a moment that they'd be surprised to learn that he now devoted his life to saving others, but then the verse smacked him again and changed his perspective. Greater love… Yeah, he could believe there could be no greater love for anyone than what he felt for Bones. But his faith wasn't helping him make peace with her rejection. What was he supposed to do--love her from a distance? She'd risked her own life to save his before, and he knew that she wouldn't hesitate to die to save him. He found her bravery even more impressive since she didn't believe in God and would still be willing to risk eternal damnation to save him. But how could she have that same "greater love" for him and turn her back on it? It was an endless loop of unanswerable questions repeating over and over in his brain. He glanced over at her for a brief moment and saw the tears in her eyes as she listened to April and Andy. But when she had returned his gaze, the pain he saw there nearly broke him.

Everyone had been completely entranced by the story and by the tender affection the couple displayed for one another. It was obvious that their love was genuine. So when the terribly sad story ended on what had to be considered a relatively happy note, everyone except Brennan had been surprised when Booth stood abruptly, made excuses about needing to make a call, and left the room. Sweets had sensed that he had been upset and started to follow him, but Brennan had put her hand on his forearm and squeezed it hard to keep him in place.

Dr. Sweets sat amazed as, without skipping a beat, Dr. Brennan completed the interview, made apologies for Booth's exit, and reassured April that they'd figure out how her parents had died. "Will you excuse us for just a moment?" Brennan asked, and they nodded, Andy folding April into his arms and holding her tightly during a much-needed private moment. Bones nodded to Sweets who extended his apologies and his card before following her from the room.

Without giving Sweets a chance to talk, Bones whispered. "Please go turn off the recorders in the observation room. I'd like to speak to April privately for a few minutes." Sweets nodded and turned to leave but Bones held her hand out to stop him. "Give him ten more minutes and then go find Booth."

"I… He…," Sweets stammered.

"You have profiled me, Dr. Sweets. I am just as capable of doing you physical harm as Booth, and I'm more likely to hurt you without being provoked."

"He's told me to stay away from him," the psychologist admitted.

"Well, he needs to talk to someone, and it can't be me. He will talk to you if you corner him somewhere. He needs to talk about what is upsetting him, and you are the only one who can get him to open up. Give him more time to calm down and then find him. He's still here. He's waiting until I leave so that I won't question him about it. Find him and make him talk to you. You owe him this."

"Okay."

"Dr. Sweets?"

"Yes?"

"Don't tell him that I sent you after him."

"I won't."

"Thank you." She turned and reentered the room and sat down across from April and Andy. Sweets marveled at how far Dr. Brennan had come. She was taking care of her partner against his will and was willingly putting herself in a situation that might rouse old, disturbing emotions. Smiling sadly about that turn of events, Sweets walked to the empty observation room to turn off the recorder. But once he got there, he found himself unable and unwilling to turn it off.

Pushing his own feelings of guilt aside, he stood there and eavesdropped on the conversation. Convinced that they were alone and had privacy, Dr. Brennan blurted out that her own parents had disappeared when she was 15. She told them about her brother leaving and the fact that she entered foster care. Bound by their common difficult experiences, the two woman spoke openly and honestly about their experiences.

Sweets watched as April spoke tenderly about Andy and how he'd been there for her. "Dr. Brennan, I don't know how you survived having no one. Andy and his family were my center. They kept me from going crazy. How did you do it? You must be so strong."

"I am strong. It wasn't easy; you understand, of course. I had to rely upon myself. I've always done that."

"You're smart and successful. Did you find someone like Andy to help you?"

"No. I'm not married. I don't believe in marriage."

"But you have to have someone...."

"I have reconnected with my father and brother. We're working through things."

"That's good. I hope that you find someone else--a partner, someone special." April's choice of words squeezed Brennan's throat closed for a moment. She swallowed hard and then leaned forward speaking earnestly, "How... how did you do it? How did you trust him... rely upon him? After being abandoned like that? How could you trust Andy and his family not to leave you, hurt you?"

April looked at her with complete understanding, "I didn't at first. I was awful to them. I hated everyone and trusted nobody—not even the family kind enough to take me in. But they never gave up on me."

"You were lucky."

"I was. Dr. Brennan?"

"Yes?"

"It's obvious that your strength and independence have served you well. But don't sacrifice a chance at true happiness by refusing to depend on others."

"Oh. I have very good friends. I believe it's what is commonly called a support network."

"It's even easier to deal with things with a special someone as part of that network. I fought that for years and wish now that I hadn't. Do you have a special someone?"

"I...," Temperance began tentatively, but she looked away for a moment to regain her composure, "I have a best friend. There haven't been vows and we haven't had sexual intercourse, but our bond is strong. I can rely on him..., trust him..., depend on him."

"It's Agent Booth, isn't it? That's why he left—he couldn't stand listening to this story and stay objective and unemotional. It's obvious that he cares about you."

"What?! How... Why do you say that?" Brennan had been so shocked by that question that her mask of calm and distance had been completely ripped off. For a fleeting moment, April and Andy had seen a glimpse into the depths of her soul.

"We've read your books and seen interviews with the two of you. It's the way that he looks at you. We saw you outside the room before the interview. It's easy to see in the way that he watches you. It's obvious that he cares for you. When you know how it feels to care that deeply for someone, you can recognize it in others rather easily."

"Well... I care for him, too. But it's not like... not like what you and Andy share. We're just partners... and very close friends."

"Forgive me for prying. I know you don't know me well enough to discuss this, but I... You and I walked the same road, Dr. Brennan. I think that helps us understand one another pretty well for only having just met. Is he happy with things this way?"

"Things are the way they are. That's the way things have to be. I can't.... Our friendship and partnership are the core of my whole world. I couldn't risk them on anything as flighty as a relationship."

"But you care for him," Andy prodded.

"Of course I care for him! He's my partner. He's saved my life... helped save my father's.... I... We really shouldn't be discussing this. The interview is over...."

"Do you love him?" April asked empathetically. She knew how difficult this had to be for the woman to consider. She'd been there herself—many times.

The normally stoic anthropologist slumped down into her chair looking like a small child rather than an amazingly intelligent, successful adult, "I... I don't know."

Having walked the same path before, only April felt qualified to press Brennan for more information. She recognized all the signs of a woman running like hell from something that might be just what she needed, "I don't think you'd be this upset trying to put your feelings into words if you didn't love him," April suggested, realizing that this push was likely to send the woman scrambling from the room in avoidance.

As she'd predicted, Dr. Brennan stood abruptly, but she surprised them both by pacing behind the chairs along the length of the table and talking openly to them about a most private matter, "Of course, I love him. But love doesn't provide any guarantees. Love can be fleeting. Love can bring pain. Love is unreliable. I... I haven't loved anyone who didn't leave me. I don't know how it feels to love someone who doesn't break my heart by leaving. What Booth and I share looks like love to other people, but I'm not made like that. I'm not meant to feel that deeply or to have anyone in my life who loves me more than briefly. I... I can't quantify my feelings or measure them or examine them. I base all of my decisions on evidence, and in this case, there's not enough evidence." Her voice trailed off at the end, her emotions finally taking control.

April stood slowly and circled the table. She wrapped her arms around the woman and hugged her tightly. They shared a long embrace of understanding and shared pain, "I have to believe that there's a reason you were here today. I couldn't have handled this without your sympathy and understanding. But maybe I'm here for a reason, too, Dr. Brennan, "Give it time. Don't shut out Agent Booth or whoever your special someone turns out to be. I promise it's worth the risk. The man for you is not going to desert you—he'll be your friend first and foremost. You and Agent Booth have been partners for years already, and he's still here—even though you've probably tested his allegiance more than once. Maybe if he stays by your side and doesn't leave you and continues to care for you that will be evidence enough."

With tears in her eyes and a heavy burden on her heart, Temperance fled the scene. She had had enough and couldn't take it anymore, "I... I really have to go. I have bones to catalogue back at the Jeffersonian. We haven't yet found cause of death for that third victim. I... It was nice meeting you. I'm sorry for your loss."

Brennan barked to Charlie that he needed to escort the Westars out of the building and pressed the elevator button multiple times in the irrational hope that it would arrive sooner. As the elevator door opened and she rushed in, she heard Andy's comforting voice span the distance between them, "Dr. Brennan, you've already done the hardest part. You survived. Anything else is easier than that."