Hey, ya'll. So I'm back. Sorry it took a while, but I think you'll understand why when you read this one. It's freakin' epic. Sixteen pages. The longest one-shot I've ever written. I'm in love with it and I hope you will be too!

Oh, and just for the sake of full discretion: I shamelessly stole a scene from the show Alias for this story. Anyone who watched the show will recognize it immediately.

It had been eight days. Eight days since he'd last heard her voice. It was hard to admit how many times he'd thought of her in the past week, when his thoughts should've been completely and wholeheartedly focused on the beautiful, blonde, often naked woman in his bed. It was hard to admit that he hadn't had the courage to call her.

Leaving her so quickly after that night in the car must've felt like abandonment to her, like running away. He'd wanted to say something before he left with Hannah, but in the end, he'd never found time. He'd told himself that he'd call and check in with her while he was away, but in the end, he'd chickened out. What was he supposed to say? He'd had the horrible, sinking feeling lately that they wouldn't be able to recover from this. A part of him didn't want to make her wait around, watching him with another woman. A part of him didn't want to torture her like that. He knew how it hurt. But a larger part of him couldn't bear the thought of not being in her life. And so here they were, in this strange, infuriating limbo once again, right where they'd been for the past six years.

As Booth strode into the Jeffersonian and made his way towards her office, Sweets' words from over a year ago echoed in his mind: it's like you two missed your moment. At first, he hadn't wanted to admit to the truth of the statement. He'd always liked to think that they'd just never reached their moment. But nowadays, he was finding Sweets to be maddeningly correct.

As he neared her office, he told himself they would get past all of this. He told himself he would make it better. He would walk in, say, "Hey, Bones," and smile at her. She would smile too and stand and he would hug her. And it would be just the same as it always was.

But when he reached her office, he realized his plans were futile, because Bones wasn't even there. In fact, it looked like she hadn't been to work in a while. The room was dark, her desk neat and unused, her laptop missing.

Frowning to himself, he backed out of the doorway and made his way over to Angela's office. He found her at her computer, focusing intently on whatever was on the screen. "Hey, Ange," he called from the doorway. "Have you seen Bones?"

She didn't respond right away. A moment passed and Booth wondered if she had heard him. He was about to call out to her again when she finally lifted her gaze to his face. He was surprised to see anger brewing in her gaze as she stood and walked over to him. "She's at the hospital," she informed him.

Booth froze. He tried to swallow, but found he couldn't. "Is she…" He knew he needed to ask the question, but the words stuck in his throat. Maybe he didn't want to know the answer. "Is she…okay?"

Angela let him stew in his own terror for a minute before nodding her head. "She's fine," she confirmed.

He let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "What happened?"

If it was possible, Angela's expression seemed to darken even more. "Her dad had a heart attack," she told him. "You weren't here."

The words were so cruel, so brutal, so true, that Booth actually took a step back as if he could escape his own guilt. "What hospital?" he asked.

Angela swallowed and didn't answer him right away. She was hesitating and it killed him. Had he really hurt her that badly? So badly that he wasn't the one she turned to anymore? So badly that seeing him might break her heart even more? "Georgetown," she said after what seemed like a lifetime.

And as he walked back to his car he realized that he would've driven to every single hospital in the greater Washington area just to make sure she was okay.

—BB—

Booth pushed open the hospital room door and found Brennan sound asleep, curled up in a chair beside her father's bed. Oh, Bones.

Max was on the bed, hooked up to about ten thousand machines and looking pale as a ghost. Booth immediately walked over to his partner and crouched on the ground in front of her chair.

Ever so gently, he reached out and brushed a loose lock of hair behind her ear. Slowly, she opened her eyes. Slowly, she took in his face, his presence in front of her. She reached out and rested her hand on his cheek. He watched, still as a statue, as the ghost of a smile stirred in her eyes. He was about to open his mouth to say something when she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his in the most gentle, achingly sweet kiss he'd ever experienced.

"Bones," he breathed softly, part hesitation, part invitation.

She kissed him again, deeper this time, and he found himself giving in to the unimaginable softness of her lips, the intoxicating feel of her mouth against his. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her lips brushing across his cheek. "I've just missed you so much."

He let out a long breath, feeling the spell of her taste and touch fade slightly. "Bones, we can't do this," he murmured, true regret stirring in his eyes.

"Why not?" she asked, drawing him close again. "It's a dream. I can do whatever I want."

He pulled back then, his brow furrowing in confusion. "A dream?" He shook his head slightly. "No, Bones, this isn't a dream. This is real."

She frowned. "It is? Then…how are you here?"

The question was so truthful, her face so confused that he felt tears rise in his throat. She thought that the only way he could be standing in front of her was if they were caught in a dream. "Bones," he breathed, his voice rough. "Angela told me what happened."

"And…you came?"

He nodded. "Of course I came."

She smiled slightly at that, but then, as she realized what she had done, the smile faded, replaced by embarrassment. "I'm sorry I kissed you," she told him, her voice soft and tinged with shame. "I shouldn't have. I should've realized…"

"Bones," he said gently, resting a hand on her arm. "It's okay." She nodded, her gaze drifting over to the bed where her father lay. "I'm so sorry, Bones," he told her, following her gaze

She nodded again, distractedly, and stood from the chair, moving over to the bed. "We were going to do New Years together," she said softly. Booth stood and moved closer to her, standing at her back as if he would shield her from the grief. "Russ was going to bring the girls and Amy and I were going to cook a big dinner."

"You still will," he said, even though it was something he had no business promising. "He'll wake up and you'll have your dinner."

She was quiet for a long time, her body tense. He could tell she was barely holding herself together. "He might die, Booth," she breathed, her voice thick with tears. "He might actually…die." Her voice trembled and shook, catching on a sob on the last word.

She turned away from the bed and from Booth, lifting a hand to cover her eyes, but then he was right there and there was no hiding. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and she turned into him, pressing her tear-stained face to his chest. He hugged her tightly, fiercely, as if he would absorb her grief, her pain, if he only held her close enough.

They stood there for a long time, hugging by the bed. When they finally pulled apart, he leaned back into her and pressed his lips to her forehead. "It's going to be okay," he told her. "You're going to be okay."

She lifted her gaze to his face and he could see the sadness in her eyes, the loss. But there was something else, something familiar. It was trust. He realized that, even after everything, she still had enough faith in him to believe it when he told her it would be okay, even without an ounce of proof.

"Why didn't you call me?" he asked her.

She shrugged, her eyes dropping to the floor. "You were with Hannah."

"I would've come," he murmured.

Her face was doubtful and it broke his heart. "Really?"

"Of course. I'll always come for you, Bones."

She nodded. "Okay," she said softly.

—BB—

It was close to midnight a couple days later when Booth heard the knock on his door. He jogged out of his bedroom, swung it open, and found Bones standing on his doorstep. "Bones," he said, feeling a smile tug at his lips at the sight of her.

"Hi," she said, a little shyly.

"Hey," he returned. "You okay?"

"Russ made me go home to sleep," she explained. He didn't respond right away, sensing intuitively that there was more to the story. "So I…I went home," she continued uncertainly. "But I couldn't sleep and I was wondering…" She trailed off, her eyes dropping to the floor.

"Bones," he murmured gently. "What is it?"

She lifted her gaze and met his eye. Smiled slightly and opened her mouth to speak, only to be cut off by a voice calling from the bedroom. "Seeley, who is it?"

He paused and watched her grow visibly tense in front of him. He silently begged her not to run. "It's Bones," he called back, without taking his eyes off his partner's face.

He wanted to tell her not to go, but she was already backing away, her face a mask of apologies. "I'm sorry," she said softly as she moved away. "I shouldn't have come so late…I was just…" She shook her head and turned away, hurrying towards the elevator.

Before he could think better of it, he pulled the door closed behind him and hurried after her. "Bones, wait," he called.

She turned to look at him, her finger already pressing the call button. "Just forget it, Booth," she said, visibly frantic now. "I shouldn't have come."

He reached out and stilled her fidgeting hand, drawing her finger away from the wall. "Bones, hey," he said, his voice soft. "It's okay." He kept his gaze steady on her beautiful, weary face, her dark eyes and pained expression. "Why did you come here?"

She hesitated. "I just…I couldn't sleep and…"

He trailed his hand down from where it still rested on her arm and laced his fingers with hers. "It's okay," he soothed.

"I—"

Ding!

The sound of the elevator arriving seemed to snap her back to reality. She pulled her hand from his grasp and rushed onto the waiting car. She kept her eyes on the floor as the elevator doors began to slide shut, but at the last minute, lifted her gaze and met his. "I'm sorry," she breathed and then she was gone.

—BB—

Hannah was just dozing off again when she heard the front door open. She sat up a little in bed, following the sound of his footsteps as he made his way towards the bedroom. She smiled at him in the dim light when he appeared in the doorway. "Is everything okay?" she asked.

"Yeah, I…It was just Bones and she…"

"Is she okay?" she said, her brow furrowing.

"Yeah, I mean, no…not really. Her dad had a heart attack and she…" He trailed off and shook his head slightly.

"Seeley," Hannah said softly, drawing his distracted gaze to her face. "Is something wrong?"

He kept his eyes on her for a long time, his gaze dark and appraising, as if he was warring with himself over a difficult decision. "I think I'm going to go see if she's okay," he said finally.

Hannah nodded. "Okay. That's fine."

Her answer seemed to surprise him. "Really?" he questioned.

"Of course," she assured him. "She shouldn't be alone right now."

He smiled then, his face softening. He suddenly remembered all the reasons why he fell in love with her. "Thanks, babe," he whispered, leaning in to give her a kiss. "I'll see you in the morning, okay?"

"Okay."

—BB—

He didn't bother knocking. He knew, somehow, that it would be open. When he walked through the door, he was met with darkness. The only light he could see was coming from down the hallway, streaming out in a thin shaft beneath the bathroom door. He walked over and knocked on it softly. "Bones?" he called. No answer. He could hear the shower running. "Bones?"

He pushed the door open a crack. "Bones? You in here?"

"I'm here." Her voice floated to him from behind the shower curtain.

"You okay?" Silence. The sound of the water sounded unnaturally loud to his ears. "Bones?"

"I'm here."

He frowned at the thin whisper that was her voice. Unease swept through him. Pushing aside his hesitancy, he moved into the bathroom and pulled back the curtain. She was curled up in a ball beneath the spray, shivering as cold water hit her pale skin. It suddenly didn't matter that she was naked and he had a girlfriend and he had been in love with her for so long. She needed his help. In that moment, it was all he saw. "Bones, this water is freezing," he said, alarmed at the sight before him. Her blue lips and raw, icy skin.

He turned off the spray. Grabbed her towel off the rack. Bent down and wrapped it around her trembling shoulders. He urged her into a standing position and slipped his arm around her waist as she stepped unsteadily from the tub. "We need to get you warm," he murmured, rubbing the towel along her arms, trying to coax the warmth back to her skin.

"It's fine, Booth," she protested dazedly as he ushered her into her bedroom and sat her on her bed.

"No, Bones, it's not fine." He pulled open her dresser drawers until he found the one containing her pajamas. He grabbed a pair at random and turned back to her. "It's not fine, okay?" he murmured fiercely not really knowing what he meant, but knowing he didn't just mean her body temperature.

She looked up at him, her blue eyes soft and tired and so trusting. Still so trusting. He bent down in front of her and took her cold hands between his own. "I'm going to stay with you tonight, okay?" he told her.

"You don't have to," she said, but she seemed relieved at his announcement.

He smiled and kissed her forehead for the second time that day. This time, he let himself linger for a moment, his lips brushing her skin, his nose pressed to her wet, sweet-smelling hair. "I want to," he whispered. "I want to stay with you." And he did. So badly.

—BB—

Within a few minutes, Brennan was fully clothed in warm pajamas and tucked safely into her bed. Booth still floated around the room, returning her towel to the bathroom, gathering the clothes she'd discarded earlier and tossing them in the hamper. She listened with her eyes closed as he moved around. His footsteps were comforting to her. Even though she knew intellectually that she was still awake, she had the strangest sensation that she was dreaming. The whole day felt like a dream. As if she hadn't yet woken up from her nap beside her father's hospital bed. She was still in a dream where she could kiss Booth because she missed him and go to his apartment to ask him to sit with her while she slept.

The scientist in her suspected that this was her mind's way of coping with grief. To quietly bow out, leaving her in this strange, foggy limbo between reality and sleep. There was a word for this, she knew. What was it? She felt sluggish from her toes to her brain. She couldn't think. There was a word. What was it?

"Dissociation."

At the sound of her voice, Booth turned towards her, abandoning the pajama drawer he was trying to tidy. "What?" he murmured quietly. He crouched down beside the bed so that his face was level with hers. "Did you say something, Bones?"

She blinked at him sleepily. "Dissociation," she said again.

He frowned, reaching out to run his finger along the curve of her cheek. "I don't know what that means," he told her. He looked sad and it suddenly seemed very important to explain to him exactly what she meant.

"It's the…the…" She trailed off and closed her eyes, willing the words from her hazy brain. She took a deep breath. "It's the…disruption of the normal…integration of a person's conscious or…or psychological functioning."

His frown deepened. "I don't know what that means," he murmured again.

She smiled thinly. "That's supposed to be my line."

He smiled too and resisted the urge to kiss her again. "Go to sleep, Bones."

She didn't need to be persuaded. She let her heavy eyes drift shut. "Thanks, Booth," she mumbled.

He leaned towards her and tucked the covers up over her shoulders. He kissed the top of her head. (That was three today, but who was counting?) "Goodnight, Bones," he murmured, even though she was already asleep.

—BB—

It was early, early morning when she woke up. The sun hadn't risen yet and the light had a dim, gray quality to it. She opened her eyes and immediately felt a smile touch her lips. Her partner had dragged the rocking chair from the corner of the room over to her beside and was now sound asleep in it, his head lolling to the side, soft snores emanating from his partially open mouth. She reached out and touched his thigh. "Booth."

He woke up quickly, his gaze going directly to her face. "Bones?" he mumbled hoarsely. "You okay?"

"You could have slept on the couch."

He smiled. "I know," he said, a little defiantly, and she could see the silent plea in his gaze. Please, let me take care of you.

"Okay," she whispered.

He smiled and stretched, repositioning himself in the hard, wooden chair. "Can I ask you something?" She nodded and he was suddenly struck by how beautiful she looked lying there in her bed, warm and languid, hair disheveled, eyes bright and sleepy. "Why did you let the water get so freezing last night?"

As soon as the words left his mouth, he could see the tension seep back into her body. He wished he hadn't asked. He liked her like this, all relaxed and sleepy and lovely. "It started out warm," she explained. "But then…" Her eyes flitted away from his face. "But then the water got cold and I…I realized the chill was the first, true thing I had felt the whole day. Then I started to go numb and I…" She met his eye. "I liked that, too. I needed that, too."

He nodded. "I can see that."

"You can?" she asked.

"Yes," he told her.

"Does Hannah know you're here?"

The question was so sudden and his thoughts were so very far away from the woman he claimed to love that the effect was a surge of guilt, deep and sudden and shocking in its strength. "Yes," he said quickly—too quickly. "She told me to come."

When he saw the hurt flash across her face, he regretted the words instantly, especially since they weren't exactly true. She sat up in bed and he could almost see the walls going back up. "Well, don't do me any favors," she told him.

"Wait, Bones," he said, standing as she slipped out of the bed. "I didn't mean—"

"Go home, Booth," she said. She sounded weary.

"But I—"

"Just go," she said again, this time louder—harsher. He took a step away from her and she moved past him. "Goodbye, Booth," she muttered and it scared him how sure she sounded, like he'd broken something that maybe this time he couldn't fix.

—BB—

Hannah was in the kitchen getting ready for work when he walked in. As soon as he stepped through the door, she walked over and wrapped her arms around him. "Good morning," she murmured into his ear, so soft, so easy. "How's Temperance?" she asked, pulling away to meet his eye.

He smiled gently at the genuine concern in her eyes. She looked so nice standing in front of him, in her pencil skirt and crisp, white blouse. So neat, so together. He couldn't imagine how he looked. Like crap, probably. "She's doing…okay," he said vaguely and kissed her so she wouldn't ask anymore questions.

How could he explain his night with Bones? How could he explain the sound of her broken voice, echoing over the rush of water? How could he explain her dazed expression or the trust in her eyes when they finally cleared and she saw him and was grateful to have him there, helping her? How could he explain Bones in the morning? The way her eyes seemed extra blue during sunrise, how her skin glowed, how her hand reached out to touch his leg? He couldn't explain those things to the woman standing in front of him. He wouldn't. What goes on between us should just be ours. He wouldn't.

"She's strong," he told her softly, his hands running up her arms. "She's a fighter. She'll be okay."

Hannah nodded and pressed one more, light kiss to his lips before moving away. "I have to go to work," she said, grabbing her purse and coffee mug off the counter.

"Will you be home tonight?" he asked as she moved past him towards the door.

She shook her head. Her face was apologetic as she reached for the doorknob. "No, I'm sorry. I'm flying to New York right after work and won't be home until tomorrow afternoon."

For some odd reason that he chose not to overanalyze, he felt relieved. "That's okay," he said. "Jared's been bugging me for a guy's night out, so maybe I'll give him a call."

She smiled. "Sounds good," she said, swinging open the door. "Don't party too hard."

He grinned. "I'll try not to," he called as she pulled the door shut behind her.

—BB—

He expected her to kick him out of the hospital room immediately. He expected her to yell and accuse and push him away. He expected her to hate him, so when he walked into Max's hospital room and was immediately greeted with a fierce hug from his partner, he was surprised to say the least. "Bones," he breathed in surprise, letting out a relieved laugh as she pulled him close.

"He's awake," she whispered into his shirt. She pulled back and met his eye. "He woke up."

Her grin was so wide and so relieved that it made his chest ache. "That's so great, Bones," he told her, his voice thick.

Her smile softened slightly at the emotion in his eyes. She reached down and slipped her fingers through his, tugging him towards the bed. "Come see," she urged.

He followed her over to the bed where Max was lying. He still looked pale and small hooked up to all those machines, but his eyes were open and they were clear. "Agent Booth," he greeted him hoarsely, his voice quiet but clear. "Good to see you."

"You too, Max," Booth told him sincerely. "It's good to have you back."

"It's good…" He had to pause to swallow and take a breath. "It's good to be back."

Brennan's concern was immediate. "Dad," she said softly, resting her hand on her father's shoulder, " maybe you should get some more rest."

"Oh, honey, I'm fine."

"Dad," she said. Her voice was stern, but there was an edge of pleading to it. Booth could see that she was still scared. "Please, rest. For me?"

For a moment, Booth thought that Max might actually be stubborn about it, but then he just smiled and nodded. "Alright. The girls did wear me out a little."

"Russ brought Amy's girls by this morning," Brennan explained to Booth, before turning back to her father. "Sleep," she ordered, but she was smiling.

Once she was satisfied that her father was resting, she took Booth's hand again and led him out to the hallway. He was apologizing before she could even pull the door shut. "Bones, I'm so sorry about last night," he said hastily. "I didn't mean what you thought I meant."

"Booth, it's impossible for you to know what I was thinking. Mind reading is a ludicrous notion."

"Bones," he said seriously. He wasn't going to let her avoid this conversation by distracting him with squint speak. "Hannah didn't tell me to go stay with you. I said I was going and she was just being…supportive. That's all I meant."

She nodded, but still seemed to be waiting for something. After a moment of deliberation, he moved closer and pulled her into his arms. She sighed softly, relaxing into his body. He didn't think he'd ever get tired of how this felt. "I wanted to be there with you, Bones," he told her quietly. "I needed to make sure you were okay."

"Thank you, Booth," she whispered.

He smiled, resting his chin on the top of her head. "No problem."

—BB—

Brennan wasn't surprised when she heard the knock on her door. Maybe she should've been, but she wasn't. Somehow, she knew he'd come. She opened the door and smiled at him. He smiled back, looking almost…sheepish. "I'm sorry," he said, as she stepped aside and let him in.

She closed the door and turned to face him. "For what?" she asked, her expression bewildered.

He opened his mouth to speak, frowned, and closed it again. "I, um…I don't actually know." He thought of Hannah and felt guilty. Maybe his apology was meant for someone else. "It just seemed like the thing to say."

She was utterly bemused. "Okay," she said softly, brow still furrowed like he was a constant mystery that she was always unraveling.

He nodded. "Okay."

"Want a beer?" she asked, moving past him into the kitchen. "I have that kind you like…what's it called?" She opened the door and pulled out a bottle, glancing at its label. "Heineken," she read, turning her attention from the beer back to him.

"Yeah, sure," he said easily. "I could go for a beer."

She handed him his drink and turned back to the fridge to pull out one of those god-awful, foreign beers she liked so much. As if moving with one accord, they drifted over to the couch. He watched her, Heineken in hand, as she sat down and got comfortable against the cushions. Call him weird, but he'd always kind of loved the way Bones sat down onto couches. There was something strangely feminine about the way she curled one foot underneath her and leaned back against the cushions with a light sigh.

"Booth?"

When she said his name, he realized that he'd been staring at her pretty intently for a pretty lengthy period of time. He looked away quickly, willing himself not to blush. "Sorry," he muttered, his second apology in five minutes. "It's just…" He felt his cheeks flame. "It's just you do that well."

"What?" she asked incredulously. "Sit down?"

He shrugged and sipped his beer self-consciously. "Yeah."

She gave him a confused look. "Are you okay?"

He was about to say that of course he was okay, why did she ask? But when he turned back to look at her, the words died in his throat. It hit him, suddenly, that there had never been a time when he'd looked at her and thought that she was anything less than beautiful. At the lab, at the diner, at her apartment. Wherever she was, she stole his focus. He saw her in a way that he didn't see anyone else, through a lens that was colored by his devotion to her.

Then he thought of Hannah. She floated into his mind, blurred and unfocused. He tried to remember the exact shape of her lips, the exact shade of her eyes and found, to his surprise (and guilt, again) that he couldn't. He realized he had never noticed the way Hannah sat down on couches. He had never been speechless in the face of her loveliness. He had never wanted to kiss her as badly as he wanted to kiss his partner right now.

"I kissed you back," he said abruptly.

Now she looked really confused. Confused and maybe a little freaked out. "What?" she asked, as if she wasn't quite sure she wanted to hear the answer.

"In the hospital, when you kissed me, I…I kissed you back."

She nodded slowly and he could almost see the wheels spinning in her head, struggling to catch up to what he was trying to say. "Okay," she said uncertainly. "You kissed me back."

He nodded and leaned towards her without really thinking about it. "You thought it was a dream, but I didn't. I knew it was real and I kissed you anyway."

All at once, the confusion was gone, replaced by something along the lines of fear. "Booth…" Her tone was warning.

He knew the path he was taking and he knew he'd break her heart if he tried to take it back. But he didn't want to take it back. "I kissed you back, Bones, because I…I miss you, too." The words came out in a rush of breath, a sigh of relief. It felt so good to say it out loud. He said it again. "I miss you, too."

"But Hannah…"

He'd told her that Hannah wasn't a consolation prize and he hadn't been lying; she wasn't. She was a good, strong, beautiful woman, a woman he loved in some way. A woman who didn't deserve to be held in second place in his heart. "I love you, Bones," he breathed. "I think I've always loved you."

Tears welled in her eyes at his words. "Booth…"

"Don't be scared, Bones," he said quietly, remembering Cam's warning that day in the bar so long ago. Be sure. "Don't be scared," he said again. "I'm never going to leave you again."

He wondered, for an instant, if she would understand what he meant. If she would know that he didn't just mean those seven months they spent on opposite ends of the world. But then she nodded and the trust flashed bright through her tears. "Okay."

He leaned towards her. He wanted to kiss her more than he could say, but forced himself to wait, to redirect his lips to her forehead, a spot he was actually growing quite fond of feeling beneath his lips. "I have to go."

"What?" Her eyes were wide. "Why?"

"Don't worry," he breathed soothingly. He kissed the smooth skin at her temple. "I'm just going to go talk to Hannah." She still looked doubtful so he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her onto his lap.

"You know what?"

"What?"

"I want to kiss you," he breathed into her ear and had the pleasure of feeling a shiver scoot up her spine. "I want to kiss you, Bones. I want to do more than kiss you. But I have to talk to Hannah first."

"I understand," she said, but didn't make any move to get up.

"Bones?" he asked curiously.

"Can we just…sit here for a while?"

He nodded and tightened his arms around her. "We can stay her for as long as you want."

—BB—

It was late by the time he walked out in the hallway, leaving Bones asleep on the couch. He knew she'd be on the plane by now, already half way to New York, but he couldn't wait. He flipped open his phone and hit speed dial two. It struck him that he'd never switched Bones from his number one spot. That suddenly seemed terribly significant to him now.

As expected, he got her voicemail. "Hannah," he began uncertainly. He thought of her standing in New York, alone on the street, getting this message. It gave him a sad, strangely regretful feeling. "I, um…I need to talk to you, so…" He trailed off. Could he be anymore cryptic? "So, just call me, okay?" He realized how scary this might sound to her. He wanted to say something reassuring, but he couldn't think what. He couldn't tell her that it wasn't anything serious. This was serious. Maybe not in a life-threatening, I'm-in-the-hospital kind of way, but definitely in a major-life-change kind of way. "Just…" He paused. "Come home safe, okay?"

With that, he closed his phone and walked back into the apartment. Bones was still asleep. He walked over, crouching down beside the couch. "Bones," he said softly, brushing the hair from her eyes. "Bones, wake up."

She opened her eyes and looked at him. "Did you talk to her?" she asked.

"She didn't pick up," he said. "I'll call her in the morning."

Was that disappointment in her eyes? He thought so. Sexual frustration? Maybe that one was just wishful thinking. "I guess I'm going to go to bed," she said, sitting up and rubbing her eyes.

He stood too, trailing after her as she walked towards her bedroom. If she thought it was strange that he was following her, she didn't say anything. He paused in the doorway and watched as she pulled a pair of pajamas out of a dresser drawer. Still, she didn't comment on his presence. She simply moved into the bathroom to change, emerging a few minutes later, teeth clean, hair brushed, clad in an adorable pair of pajamas that had little, pink skull and crossbones images printed across them.

The intimacy of the situation flowed over him and into him. He watched as she slipped into her bed with a soft sigh, pulling the comforter up over her stomach. She stopped just short of covering her breasts, and despite himself, he found his gaze being drawn to her chest. The tank top she was wearing was stretched taught across the fullness of her breasts, low enough to give him a nice view of her cleavage. He imagined taking them into his hands. Imagined the sounds she would make. Imagined how she would look at him as he raised her higher and higher with his hands and mouth. Imagined how her eyes would flutter shut just before she shattered, his name a sigh on her lips.

When he finally dragged his eyes up to her face, he found her watching him, her eyes dark and knowing. She knew how turned on he was. She must. She wasn't blind; a quick glance downward would tell her just how much her little pre-sleep ritual had affected him. "Do you want me to go?" he asked, his voice rough and deep.

She didn't answer right away. She kept her eyes on his face. He could see the lust brewing in her gaze. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she reached a hand towards him. Without hesitation, he stepped forward and took it, easing onto the bed beside her. She turned towards him as he lay down, scooting so close that he could feel the heat of her body. Their hands, still joined, rested between them.

They kept their eyes on one another for a long time. He studied the face he already knew so well, and found that it was no less beautiful than he remembered. After a while, their breathing began to even out and deepen. He could practically feel sleep descending over them. The world stilled and quieted. Their eyes drifted shut.

He slept a deep, heavy sleep. Bones drifted in and out of his dreams, constant and true and his. And when he woke up the next morning, he found that they had barely moved the whole night. She still lay on her side, her face serene in sleep, her body curled towards him. And between them lay their joined hands, bridging the gap between them, their connection just as sure and strong as ever.

—BB—

As soon as she saw his face, she knew. She didn't know how, but she just did. And when he didn't come to her, didn't take her into his arms and tell her how much he'd missed, she was sure. "You're breaking up with me," she said.

He looked a little surprised at her blunt statement, but recovered quickly. He seemed to debate what to say for a minute. Finally, he simply said, "Yes."

They were both silent. He took a step towards her and stopped. "I want to explain."

She shook her head. "You don't have to."

"Hannah…"

"A part of me always knew this might happen," she said quietly and then paused. Was that true? She thought for moment. Yes, she finally decided, it was. "You're in love with Temperance."

"I'm in love with Bones," he said. He stressed the distinction between the names as if they were two different people. Maybe they were.

She realized, suddenly, how little she really knew about the woman. Booth never talked about her much. He seemed…protective of her in a way that had always struck Hannah as odd. Perhaps this was the reason. "Well," she began, then stopped.

She knew there were all sorts of things she was supposed to be feeling right now. Anger. Hurt. Jealousy. Good, old-fashioned betrayal. But instead she just felt numb and maybe a little sad. "I guess I'll go," she murmured, already turning away.

"Wait, Hannah." She turned back. "I just…I'm sorry," he breathed, his voice full, his eyes regretful and so sincere.

She nodded. "Me too."

—BB—

He found her at the lab, in the bone room, bent over a set of remains. He paused in the doorway before she noticed him and took his time to drink in the sight of her. Long legs, slender ankles, slim waist, gorgeous breasts, full lips, soft hair. Perfect. The word floated through his mind as he admired her. So beautiful, he thought dreamily and then decided to voice the words.

"You're beautiful," he told her simply, honestly.

She looked up at him and smiled. "Hi," she said, a little shy, a little…not.

He began to move towards her. As he walked, she let her eyes rake over his body. She'd seen him naked once, and close to naked a second time. She could picture the perfectly defined muscles, the smooth, broad plane of his chest that lay hidden beneath that crisp, white, button-down shirt. He smiled as he neared, enjoying her unabashed appraisal of his body.

"I talked to Hannah," he said when he reached her.

She moved into him, smiling. "Good," she said simply. "So kiss me."

And so he did. Right there in the bone room, surrounded by history—theirs and others too. Her lips were soft, her kisses demanding and he thrilled at the thought of being able to do this every day. Of being able to wake up to her and fall asleep to her every, single, damn day of his life.

When they finally pulled away, they were both breathless and flushed and grinning like fools. She leaned into him and closed her eyes. "Is this a dream?" she asked softly.

"No way, Bones," he said. "This is real."

So. Epic, right? You love me, right? Reviews are amazing. Just saying.