For a moment, her mind wandered to the proportions of his face. She sipped her coffee.

He put down his tea-cup, crossing his arms across the table. “Shall we talk, Dr. Brennan, or are we simply going to stare at one another?”

“Sorry. I’m not exactly feeling talkative.”

“And yet you asked me out for a drink. A tête-à-tête over tea and café au lait.” He sipped again, finger tips on both sides of the cup. He set it down, eyes on the doctor. “Talkers are no good doers,” Wyatt challenged.

“William Shakespeare.”

“Ah. Quite right, Dr. Brennan. Now, I suppose that if Monsieur Shakespeare were incorrect, then your business would be moot.”

Brennan leaned forward a bit, thoughtfully, “Booth says that having a psychological advantage over the suspects is inherent. When I was in the interrogation room, I thought I was doing fine. I planned my strategy all day, but as it turns out, I was quite ineffective.”

Wyatt smiled and sat back a little bit, clutching his arms over his chest. “So, I take it that this need to be one with your partner is still as acute as ever.”

“Technically speaking, he is better in that area than I am. However–”

“You find it humiliating that you are not as strong in that domain.”

“Yes. I’ve never been bad at any one thing.” She leaned forward a bit. “You’ve interrogated suspects, correct?”

“Dr. Brennan, this is about you and Agent Booth, not about my interrogation expertise.”

“I’m not deflecting, Dr. Wyatt. I simply want to know whether or not I can better myself–”

“Have you?”

“Have I what?”

“Bettered yourself, Dr. Brennan.”

“I went over a handful of techniques with Dr. Sweets, going over facial expressions and how to react to said expressions.”

“There are some things that cannot be learned, Dr. Brennan. When we accept that we are fallible, weak, subject to imperfection, we open ourselves to judgment.”

Brennan sipped carefully. Put her mug to the table. “So, what you’re saying is that this is normal?”

“One hundred percent.”

“And I’ve opened myself to criticism, which can only better my skill.”

“Precisely.” He smiled, almost amused. Drank. Than spoke over his tea cup. “So, since we last saw one another, have there been any, I don’t know, developments between you and your partner?”

Brennan smiled. “Such as?”

“Oh. I don’t know. It’s better that I don’t put ideas in your mind, rather that I hear it straight from the horse’s mouth, so to speak.”

“Nothing of that nature, Dr. Wyatt.”

“So. Your relationship is the same as it was two years ago when we last spoke? Exactly, precisely, tantamount as when last we sat in these very chairs.”

“Of course not. Nothing is static. We, as humans and as subjects to biological and scientific laws, are always changing.”

“So, we are all moving toward something?”

“Yes.”

“What, exactly, is that something for you and Agent Booth?” He made an impish smile.

Brennan was not so easily tricked. “Booth and I are just partners. If you’re implying that we’re moving toward a romantic relationship, you’re wrong. We’re friends. Nothing more.”

“I didn’t imply anything of the sort, Dr. Brennan. You’re reading into my words.”

“Besides, our ideals are completely different. We are incompatible–”

“Such as?”

“Love. For him, it’s as real as you or me.”

“And what do you say it is?”

“It’s not what I say, Dr. Wyatt. It’s a scientific fact that love is nothing but a release of serotonin, a rush of endorphins, all necessary for propagation and survival of the species. Any other interpretation is a societal construct.”

“Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, Dr. Brennan.”

“Shakespeare again, but quoting a dead playwright isn’t going to make me change my mind.”

“How on earth are you ever going to explain in terms of chemistry and physics so important a biological phenomenon as first love?”

“I’m not familiar with that one. Bates?”

“Albert Einstein.” He gestured at her with his spoon, then stirred sugar into his tea.

Taken off guard, Brennan was formulating an answer when Angela walked up behind her best friend. “Hey, sweetie.” Her eyes fell on Dr. Wyatt. “Hey, Monty, what are you two doing here?”

Wyatt smiled. “Averting our eyes, oh Lord.”

Angela smiled back. “Well, don’t. It’s just like those miserable psalms, always so depressing. Now knock it off.”

Brennan looked confused. “What are you two talking about now?”

Angela sat down beside Brennan. “Booth is waiting for you outside, sweetie. Now run off, so I can have the good doctor here to myself.”

“Booth is here already?” Brennan stood and looked at her cell, noticing a missed call. “Excuse me, Dr. Wyatt, Booth and I have dinner plans.”

He nodded. “Of course, of course.”

Brennan put her jacket back on. For a moment, it looked as if she was going to volley the Einstein quote. Then she said, “It was nice to see you again, Dr. Wyatt.”

“And you. Ta-Ta, Dr. Brennan.”

Angela waited until Brennan had walked out of the diner and climbed into Booth’s SUV before she spoke. “So what’s with all of this love talk?”

“I’m retired, Ms Montenegro. My priorities have changed.”

“So you told her that she and Booth are being ridiculous and should just put us all out of our misery already?”

“Love is begun by time, And time qualifies the spark and fire of it,” he quoted.

“If that’s true, those two are just about to internally combust.”

“Touché, my dear.”

Angela reached over and stole a fry. “Good fries.”

“And might I commend you on your ability to quote Monty Python. You are a woman after my own heart.”

She stole another fry. “I studied up just for you… Monty.”

Sometimes it felt like he was crashing. But she always seemed to bring him back from the edge before she knew how weak he really was.

He had to be strong. Simple as that.

But if she truly knew how human he was, would she respect him? Sometimes it felt like the respect she had for him was so weakly strung together, cobwebs held together with dew, that any slip-up could bring their relationship to the earth. A firey cloud of smoke.

But how much longer could he keep up that facade?

As it turned out, things didn’t turn out the way he had imagined. When he played it out in his head, it always began with a little too much to drink, a slip of the tongue, followed by a cold shoulder.

But somehow, every scenario that he’d come up with didn’t even come close to what truly happened. When she found out that he was flesh and blood. Because he discovered the same thing about her.

She was at the door.

He pulled on a tee shirt and walked to the door while calling, “Come in.”

She didn’t come in. She simply waited on the other side, arms crossed, scowl on her face.

The door peeled back.

“Bones. You wanna… come in?” He was bewildered by hot coal burning in her eyes. What had he done? He’d just come out of the hospital twenty minutes ago!

“No,” she stated. “I didn’t come to socialize. I just came for answers.”

“For what, exactly, Bones?” He turned and walked into the apartment. Brennan followed with dammed anger. He snatched up her scarf that was on the couch. “Missing this?”

She whipped it away from him, but then began to point at him with short, jabbing motions. “You–” It took her a moment to voice her fury. “You–You left me.” She spun around, hand to head, and muttered, “That isn’t rational.” Then she spun back, anger renewed, “Why didn’t you tell me you were having hallucinations again, Booth? I could have–I could have made connections. I could’ve–Do you not trust me? Do I mean so little to you that you would hide such a–such a—Why would you do that to me, Booth? I thought we meant more to–not that we–” Hand to head again. It was all too confusing, muddled, mixed-up. “We-we’re not, but–we are friends… and partners. Do I have to be your lover for you to share that kind of thing with me? How am I supposed to be trusted with your life if you refuse to tell me this kind of thing, Booth?”

“Bones–I didn’t wanna worry you–”

“Worry me? Booth, I sat in the waiting room for three days. They wouldn’t even tell me how you were doing because–Because I’m not–” She was breathing so hard, with sadness and anger, that her chest was rising and falling sharply. Tears were budding in her eyes, but they neither fell nor made her voice tremble. “I’m not family, Booth.” A tear, hot with anger and pain, slipped to her bottom lip, but true to her character, she didn’t fall to the ground in despair. She didn’t start bawling and fall into his arms. She stood her ground. “I thought you were dying and… they wouldn’t tell me… how you were doing because I’m nothing.”

“Bones–” He stepped closer, wanting to pull her close to his chest.

She stepped back. “Don’t touch me, Booth. What you did was–” She looked at him. It wasn’t a welcoming look. “I’m nothing. Is that why you didn’t bother to tell me?”

“Bones, it’s not like that–”

“Then how is it, Booth? Last year when you were– I thought that I would never have to go through that again and there I was– I don’t mean to be selfish, but when two people care about one another, shouldn’t they at least prevent… pain?”

“Yeah, they should, Bones–” He stepped closer to her. She was a wild horse and all he wanted to do was tame her. He reached for her arm. She jerked it back. But the walkway was small. She couldn’t go far. But he was also smart enough to keep his distance. Just enough space to keep her from lashing out at him.

“Then what does that mean for us?”

He didn’t have an answer. He stepped closer to her, trying to touch her. Just once.

She pulled back once again and reached for the door. “Just save it, Booth.” She was in the hallway before he could stop her.

She he jogged down the stairwell after her. Barefeet, sweat pants, teeshirt. It didn’t matter.

“Bones!” He shouted after her, jogging down the stairs.

“Don’t follow me, Booth.” Her voice echoed against the concrete walls.

“Bones, just stop.”

She stopped, but she was quick to assert, “You can’t tell me what to do, Booth. I’m only your partner, so basically you have no right to tell me what to do.” She said it so coolly that it was unnerving to him.

She turned and began to jog back down the stairs.

“Bones, would you just stop?! Bones! Bones! Just stop. You know what, Bones, I screwed up.”

That got her to turn. “So you admit it?”

He jogged down until he was standing next to her. “You were right, Bones–”

“I know.” Tight lips. Arms crossed.

“When somebody cares about his partner like I care about my partner– You didn’t deserve that, Bones. I’m sorry. I didn’t tell you because– I’m human.”

She mulled that comment over for a few moments. “So–what you’re saying is that you’re subject to misstepping… as we all are?”

There was more to it than that. But, “Yeah.”

It took less than a second before she knew that very thing. He wasn’t saying everything that was on his mind. She shook her head at him, annoyed, then walked back down the stairs without a second word.

“Bones–” He lept down the last three stairs and blocked her in the doorway.

“What? Do you feel like telling me the truth now?”

“Hey, easy up, Bones. Alright?”

“You still haven’t explained yourself. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have Tae Kwon Do.” She moved to one side. Booth blocked her. She moved again. He blocked her. That back and forth occurred four or five times before Brennan looked like she was going to deck him. Her eyes blazed. “Move out of the way!” She made a quick move to his right.

He wrapped his arms around her and spun her against the wall.

She struggled for a second. “Let me go, Booth.”

His voice was as calm as hers, “Not until I tell you a few things, Bones.”

“Such as?”

“I didn’t tell you because–I didn’t want you to think I’m–I’m not good enough for you.”

If  she didn’t look like a frightened animal before, she certainly did then.

“You are my family, Bones. But you’re right. I should’ve told you. We’re not just partners.” She didn’t reply to him at all. So he released her with a wide gesture, his arms slapping against his thighs. “There you go.”

She didn’t move.

He didn’t move.

When the tension reached its pinnacle, when he thought he couldn’t take the silence any more, Brennan muttered, “Booth, you’re a fool.”

He chuckled, defeated, annoyed. Somehow he felt he deserved it. “Yeah–”

She put her hands on his shoulders and pushed him against the wall. “Because you should’ve kissed me first.” She pressed herself against him roughly. Every sensory preceptor in his body exploded. The feeling of his partner’s body against his was more than just arousing. And she hadn’t even–

She took his bottom lip into her mouth, sucking slightly before releasing it. Not exactly a kiss, but it was more than enough to kick his libido into high gear. She repeated the gesture, sucking longer. He groaned internally–Well, he thought it was internally, but from the grin on her face, it was definitely out loud.

“You like that?” She whispered.

Woah. This was a different side of his partner. And definitely a very hot side of his partner.

She opened her mouth to him, touching his lips lightly with hers, teasing him. He opened his mouth for her sweet tongue. Instead, of kissing him deeply like he had expected, she ran her tongue along the bottom of his lip. Then she kissed his chin. “You didn’t shave today,” she whispered.

“I was um–” He swallowed hard. In the hospital. Laid up. “Bones, I–” Her hands slipped up his shirt. She let her fingers fall over every curve of his chest and stomach. What was he going to say again?

If it was possible, she pressed even closer to him. “You have a lot of self control for a man, Booth.”

“Well–lots of, um, practice–”

That’s when he felt her hands slip down his pants. Bad day to wear sweat pants. They just don’t–offer as much material as other pants do.

“You find me attractive, don’t you?” She knew the answer. The answer was poking her in the pubic bone.

Her breath tickled his ear. She kissed him languidly along  his neck, inching her way to his lips, running her tongue against the rough skin of his neck, closing her lips, then sucking lightly.

“Of course I do, Bones.”

She hovered over his lips for a second. “Then give up,” she dared him.

He took that challenge, taking her mouth aggressively, quarreling with her tongue, demanding a deeper touch. Closer. Softer. Faster. Quicker. More. It had been a long time since he felt so out of control around a woman. And NEVER had he ever felt so out of control when it came to Brennan. And it didn’t help that she was wrapping her leg around his waist.

“Booth–”

“Huh–” He grabbed her butt, pulling her off balance. She wrapped both legs around him. He pressed her against the wall.

“Booth.” Between heavy breaths.

“What?” He looked into her eyes.

“We should go upstairs.”

He grinned. “Thought you’d never ask.” He didn’t even let her feet touch the ground. He ran up the stairs, skipping every other step until they were inside of his apartment. Clothing was thrown off at unheard of speeds. He didn’t even remember removing her bra. Or maybe she had?

How many times in his life had he felt like he was losing control around Brennan? Now he knew there was level of frenzied mania that he’d never even tapped until that moment. That moment that he was touching his partner. Her round, soft breasts, her stomach, tight and flat. Her hips and thighs, so feminine. Kissing her. Her kissing him. Making love to Brennan.

Time slowed.

And the world never made more sense in the midst of all of that chaos.

Because she made him a stronger man.

Many a person has pegged me wrong in the past. But people who have thought that I am a drama whore were all wrong. Sure, I like minimal doses. A teaspoon here. A teaspoon there. But when push comes to shove, I’d like to just get through the day, go home and take a long hot bubble bath complete with a novel borrowed from Cam.

Most days I keep it all to myself. I suck it up. I shut up. It’s been years since I’ve uttered a word about that damned UST between Bren and Booth. I mean, the answer seems easy. Jump in the sack. Call it good. Booth isn’t one of those guys, though. I can see that. He’s like Jack. He’s the marrying type. And Bren? She’d walk all over his ass. Take him through the ringers. Leave him heart-broken and love-sick.

Brennan–God, I love her, but she’s so overly rational that when a man cheats on her or leaves her, she’s all good within a few days. Booth? It’d kill him if Bren broke his heart.

So, I’ve kept my mouth shut for the most part. I’ve let a few opinions slip through, God help me, but then all hell broke loose. I couldn’t shut my yap any more.

And the straw that broke the camel’s back?

It was May 15th. Bren was quiet all morning. She didn’t bother to crack a single smile. Poor Wendell–the boy is adorable, right?–screwed up on identifying some bone or something and she snapped at him. It wasn’t the first time that morning and it wasn’t even lunchtime yet.

I snatched her arm and dragged her to the edge of the platform. “What the hell is the matter with you, sweetie?”

She played coy. Coy pisses me off. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Angela.”

“Bren. It’s me. Angela. I know you and I know that Wendell didn’t deserve that back there. Now what’s wrong?”

Bren looked around, then I took her cue and we walked off a few feet. She crossed her arms and whispered, “Booth and I slept together.”

This could be good. “Really? So how does that justify you biting Wendell’s head off?”

“I guess I’m a bit on the edge–”

“The edge? Brennan, you jumped off the edge ten minutes ago. Now, what happened with you and Booth?” I knew it couldn’t be good. Although it did explain the smile she wore all day yesterday, this certainly wasn’t a post-hot-bathroom-sex kind of demeanor.

She was scientific about the subject. As usual. Big surprise. “Booth and I decided that it’s better for our partnership that we don’t pursue a romantic relationship.”

You’ve gotta be shitting me. My hand had a mind of its own as it whipped out and slapped her coldly across the cheek. Those big blue eyes of hers widened. She gasped. “Angela!”

I tried not to sound as surprised as I actually was by my actions. “I’m sorry, sweetie, but you deserved that.”

“How could I have deserved that? What happened between Booth and me is none of your business.”

“Sweetie, for four years now, it’s been all this ‘will-they-won’t-they’ crap. You finally bump buckles with the big guy and now you’re telling me it’s a mistake? I’m sorry, sweetie, but I don’t think I can put up with four more years of this. Whatever you did, you better undo it. Booth is a good guy and he actually loves you despite your being high maintenance.”

“Booth and I decided TOGETHER–”

“Well, then you’re both morons, Bren.” By then I could feel eyes from all points of the lab staring at us. My voice rose anyway. “I mean, could you two be a little less predictable?”

Brennan was furious by then. “It’s none of your business.” She turned and began to walk toward her office.

“Actually, sweetie, it is. If you’re going to make us all suffer like this longer, then it’s definitely my business.”

We stopped in her office.

She turned, still angry. “What about office romances not working out, Angela? Look what happened between you and Hodgins.”

“Life isn’t a fairy tale, Brennan. What matters is that Hodgins and I gave it a try. And we had a damned good time trying. I don’t regret it, but I do know that you’ll regret this if you and Booth don’t actually try it. I mean, it’s not like you two aren’t together anyway–”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Are you serious?” I crossed my arms. The woman could be so dense.

“Yes, of course.”

“You and Booth have dinner more than Hodgins and I ever had. You probably know things that married couples know about one another–”

“Such as?” She was unconvinced.

It didn’t take long to generate a nice list. “Fears, the name of his first girlfriend, secrets of his past, the size of his penis.” Oh. I had her on that last one. I could tell by the blush creeping up on her cheek that she knew it, too. I could also tell by that blush that the image was still quite fresh in her mind.

We stared at one another. Almost angrily.

The stare was interrupted by a soft knock at the door.

I turned my head just enough to see that it was Booth.

Once again, thick tension between the two as they looked at one another silently. They were never not saying anything to each other. It was more than just uncomfortable. It was annoying.

Finally, he spoke. (Take a bow, Seeley.) “Hey, Bones… I was hoping we could have some lunch?”

Bren looked my way. As if I was a safety net or something. Not today, sister. “Angela and I actually have lunch plans–”

“No we don’t,” I cut her off.

“Angela,” she whispered. Surprised. Shocked. Afraid.

I took two quick strides until only she could hear. “I’m sorry, sweetie, but I’m not your damned life raft. You sort this mess out for yourself.” I walked out of there as fast as I could, muttering, “Booth,” as I passed the poor guy.

From my office, I watched as the two of them walked out of the lab with at least two feet between them. As if somehow they would start mauling one another if they even brushed a shoulder accidentally. Oh, please.

Hodgins was chuckling at the pair as he walked into my office. We stood in the doorway, just staring at them. It was like some sick-o National Geographic Special.

“Can you believe those two?” Jack stood opposite of me. Was it me, or did he look hotter than usual that day? Damn. Did he do something different with his hair–or–?

“It’s sick, isn’t it?”

“Yeah… two people like that. Circling each other like–”

“Like a National Geographic Special.”

“Exactly,” he laughed. “Kinda freaky that two people could do that forever, though, isn’t it? You know… soul mates. Two people who love each other, always making excuses not to be together…”

Yeah, it was freaky. Soul mates circling one another for eternity. But if there was one lesson I’ve learned since Bren got me this job at the lab, it’s that there’s no such thing as immortality. Still, the whole thought of it scared me shitless. “Look, Jack–”

He pushed off from the door frame and stepped closer to me. He kissed me softly on the cheek. He didn’t say anything. I didn’t say anything. Words just didn’t seem right, you know?

Then he walked out of the office, looking back at me after a few steps.

She led the way, slightly ahead of her partner, hands in the pockets of her slacks. He walked with a wide stride to keep up with her short, quick steps. He had shed the tie, which was laying in the SUV at the foot of the hill where the gravel road ended, and left the top two buttons of his shirt undone.

“You in a hurry, Bones?”

She turned, taking a few steps backwards. “Actually, yes.”

She was up to something and it made him laugh to himself. “It’s a shame, you know.”

“It’ll be sold to the university. Students will do the upkeep.”

“Yeah, but the guy built it with his bare hands. Too bad he didn’t have any kids to pass it on to.”

“But this way, hundreds of students will be able to appreciate it. It won’t become a museum novelty; it’ll remain in use as an educational tool for astronomy students.”

The building grew from over the hill as they approached. It was smaller than most observatories, being that a man had created it himself out of recycled materials. Glass and bottles, plastic and rocks could be seen in the walls. When the sun rose above the hills, it glittered green and silver.

Brennan fumbled with her keys.

“Why’d you put it on that key chain, Bones? You won’t be able to find it now.”

“Patience, Booth.”

He took a step back and let Brennan search for the right key in the growing darkness.

Finally, she found the key and let them into the little observatory.

Booth’s mouth gaped as he looked around. “Wow. This guy made this thing by hand?”

“Shows you what a little bit of determination can do, doesn’t it?”

“This place is amazing, Bones,” he laughed. Brennan couldn’t help but to smile at her partner who was acting like a boy in a mound of dirt. He spotted a small control panel from across the room. He walked over to it. “What does this do-hickeydo?”

Brennan jogged over to him, swatting at his hands. “Don’t touch that.”

He pulled back the offended paw, “Hey.”

“This isn’t a toy, Booth. Sometimes you can be such a child.”

“You know what, Bones? Have you ever just tried it? Just once?”

She looked at him like he had just spoken Hindi. “Tried what, exactly?”

“You know–be a kid. Laugh. Play–”

“But I’m an adult, Booth.” Still confused.

He shook his head and turned around. Someday he’d teach her to have fun. Not today.

Brennan was quick to pick up on his annoyance. “Is–is there a method?”

“A method for being a kid?” He shook his head. “Nah. In fact, it’s probably the only thing that there isn’t a rule for. That’s kinda the point.”

“I could learn to let go, be less controlling if it’ll please you.” She was completely serious. Not a playful notion in her head. She did not get it.

“Bones, it’s not about that–” He looked around. Then pointed up. “Does this thing open up?”

She brightened. “Of course it does. It’s an observatory. If you can’t see the sky, you can’t observe. Thus the name.”

“Thank you, Merriam-Webster,” he muttered, walking back over to the control panel.

“We didn’t have permission to open up the ceiling, Booth.”

Booth pushed the right button and the ceiling began to peel back.

She put her hands to her hips, “I hope you know how to close that back up, Booth.”

“Just relax… I know how to read. This button says open, that one says close. Easy as pie.” His hands went back to his pockets and he looked up at the sky. “Does this thing have a telescope or something?”

“We don’t have–”

“Permission. Yeah, yeah… Hey, Bones, does that look like Ralph Nader to you?”

She sighed and walked over to him, then looked up. “That’s Cassiopeia, Booth.” Then she had to hold back a laugh, so she hit his arm. “Ralph Nader?”

He laughed, holding his arm. “Hey, I’m just doing my part, Bones.”

“Doing your part?”

“Teaching you how to relax. I bet you know every constellation up there. Why not wing it?”

“Wing it? I’m not familiar with ‘winging it.’”

“You know. Do stuff on impulse.”

“I don’t do anything on impulse, Booth. I always think through my actions thoroughly, weighing pros and cons before choosing a singular course of action. The best course of action. I just don’t see any logic to saying that Cassiopeia looks like Ralph Nader when it clearly does not.”

“Wow, Bones. Good thing you didn’t become an artist.”

“Why?” Hands back on hips.

“Because you’d suck at it.”

She was offended. “For your information, I can draw a very accurate replica of the Mona Lisa.”

“And I bet she looks like she has a hooked nose and has one of those–” he made a gesture at his neck–”big nasty warts with hairs and—”

“You’re baiting me, aren’t you?”

He laughed innocently. “What? I don’t bait, Bones. I’m not a baiter.”

“You are so a baiter and I find it quite aggrevating.”

He looked up. “Hey, Bones. Is that– Is that Mona Lisa?”

“You’re doing it again, Booth.” She reached over and closed the observatory ceiling.

“Hey, what’d you do that for?” He reached over and moved her hand out of the way.

“Because you’re beginning to irritate me. That was probably Andromeda, but knowing you, you were just pointing capriciously just to get me riled up and I don’t know why–”

Booth smiled. “You really don’t know why, do you?”

“Of course I don’t. Why would I say I didn’t know something that I do. And by the way,” she stepped closer to him. She poked at his chest a couple of times. “I am sick of people asking if I really don’t know something. I don’t appreciate ambiguity.”

“Bones, calm down a sec.”

“I will not calm down until you tell me what you mean. What is it that others know about you that I do not? I should know you better than, say, Agent Perotta–”

“Perotta?”

“–because I’m your partner.”

“Bones, Bones, slow down.”

“What do I not know about you?”

He stepped closer, sliding his hands along her arms, then tipped his head toward her, “You know me better than anyone, Bones.”

“Apparently not,” she spat.

“So you don’t get everything, Bones, but you do get most of it. Everything I tell you–I tell you more than anybody else.”

“Then…” She began, “show me how to be a kid.”

It was a challenge. He smiled. A plan formulated. “OK… Let’s close up shop.”

“Where are we going?” She followed him out, locking the door behind her.

Booth walked out several yards to a clearing alongside the path that led them to the observatory. He took off his jacket and laid it on the ground.

Then he gestured to the ground.

She rolled her eyes. “Booth–”

“Don’t you trust me?” She didn’t reply. “Hey… if I were going to make a move on you, I’d be more respectful than this. I’d bring a blanket… Trust me?”

She got on the ground, resting her shoulders and head on the jacket. Booth laid down beside her, their arms touching.

“What’s that one?” He pointed.

“Ursa Minor.”

“Bear, right?”

“Yes… And that one is Cephus…” She grew quiet.

“That one looks like Spider Man.”

She laughed softly, but didn’t reply.

“Bones? You OK?”

She nodded. Her breath stilled.

To break the silence, Booth whispered, “That one’s Perseus. That was some Greek god or something like that, right?”

She looked sharply at him. “You’re such a phony.”

“What?” He laughed.

She rested her weight on her shoulder so she could look at him. “Angela was right. You do fake being stupid just to make me feel better about myself. That’s not necessary, Booth.” She stood up quickly.

Booth stood up. “What? Are you mad at me now?”

“More like–annoyed. This is why I don’t know you that well. You pretend to be someone else around me. I am not very happy with you.” She picked up the jacket and threw it at him, then turned and walked quickly back down the hill.

“Bones, wait! Hey, Bones! Stop!” He jogged after her. “What? You want some honesty, Bones? Some goddamn honesty?”

She stopped and looked at him. “Yes. I would very much like some goddamn honesty.”

“Alright. How–how about this? I tease you… because I love seeing you look puzzled. I think it’s kinda cute.” He grinned.He put his hands into his pockets, feeling pretty confident in his attestation.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” she said after a moment of thought.

He stepped closer to her. “And I don’t tell you that I know everything because–” His jaw tightened. He stepped even closer. She stood her ground. “I can’t give you a lot, Bones. I can’t make love to you. I can’t kiss you whenever I want. But that’s one thing I can give you.”

She took a step back.

“Bones–”

Enough time passed that he began to feel worried.

She took two quick steps closer to Booth, grabbed his collar aggressively and pressed her lips warmly to his. It didn’t even take a full second before Booth responded, opening his lips to allow her tongue entry into his mouth. They tangled passionately, hungrily for several seconds. The jacket fell to the ground and he pulled her closer to him, pressing her body against his. Her hands wandered up his neck and touched his face tenderly.

Their lips parted slowly, painfully.

She opened her eyes languidly. Then she smiled, almost proudly. “How’s that for impulsivity?” He was stunned. “You dropped your jacket.”

She turned and continued down to the SUV.

His feet refused to work for a quarter of a minute. Then he sputtered, “Yeah. That’s… that’s pretty good.”

It took exactly five before he rolled out of bed. Ten more before the shower water turned off. One had passed before he came back into the dimly lit bedroom.

She still lay wrapped in the sheets, still hot with moisture.

He dropped the towel and put his jeans back on.

“I’m sorry I gotta go, Tempe. Work’s been hell lately. The shit-fucks in accounting can’t even count their damned toes.” He pulled on his shirt and snatched his shoes. One from beneath the edge of the bed, the other from the edge of the bureau. Then he leaned close and kissed her lips.

She relented, kissing him back.

“See ya later. Drinks tomorrow night?”

She sat up, holding the sheet over her breasts. “Sounds like a date.”

He chuckled. “I’d hardly call that a date, babe.” He kissed her on the forehead, then walked out of the bedroom.

She could hear him shuffling around in the living room. He was grabbing his tie. Pulling on his jacket. Straightening his hair vainly in the mirror.

Five minutes. The door finally closed, leaving a thick black smoke of solemn emptiness. But in that silence, she was free to be weak. Nobody was there to judge her. Call her pathetic. Sweetie. Hunny.

A few shuddering sobs escaped her. She tipped her head back, grasping her wrists around her knees, watching how the shadows reflected from the spackle on the ceiling. Flitting. Flickering. Hot, human tears slipped from the corner of one eye, then behind her ear and down her neck.

She pressed two hands to her eyes, then stepped out of bed and pulled on a robe. Her first thought was to shower. Scorching fluid. Soon, her whole body was so red that it wasn’t so obvious that she had been crying just minutes before.

With her hair in a towel, she sat in the kitchen for several minutes before picking up the phone.

“Bones?” He fell back onto the sheets, his hand over his eyes to block the bright light of his cell.

“Did I wake you?”

“What time is it?” His voice clearly answered her question.

“One twenty-eight.”

“You OK?”

“Oh. I was just wondering if you were up. I’m just bored…”

Booth slid out of bed. He sat on the edge, gaining his bearings. “What? You wanna talk or something?” It was meant to be sarcastic.

“That sounds nice. Yes.”

He shook his head. The things he did for his partner. “Be there in ten.”

And he was. He looked much more awake when he arrived. Of course, he was holding a cup of coffee.

“You really shouldn’t drink that, Booth. You won’t be able to get to sleep later.”

“Well, it was either that or run off the road.” He came in and sat at the kitchen table while Brennan poured herself a glass of water. She sat opposite of Booth. She spun the glass around between her finger tips.

“Bones. Mind telling me what’s going on?”

“I just…” The spinning stopped. “What would you say are the necessary components of a successful, monogomous relationship?”

Booth leaned forward a bit. OK. Brennan wanted to talk about monogamy. No problem. He’d had that conversation a dozen times in his head. Each and every time it ended very nicely. “Where’s this coming from?”

“You just happen to be the one person I can depend on when it come sto advice on monogamy. Angela enjoys multiple partners and…” She stopped there.

Booth sipped his coffee. “You want to know the ‘necessary components’? Like a recipe?”

“Do you have a recipe?”

“Bones, it’s not that easy–”

“But there has to be a common factor that couples who have enjoyed longevity in their relationships share.”

“Love.”

Brennan tipped her head to one side. “Concrete details would be nice, Booth.”

Always the realist. “Love is concrete, Bones.”

“I beg to differ–”

“Bones–” He held up a finger to shush her. “Mind if I take the soap box back for a moment?”

She nodded quizically.

“Alright. You say that love is a bunch of chemical reactions–”

“And our individual interpretations of those chemical releases.”

“Whatever. Just–Listen, it’s late, so you being quiet and listening would be much appreciated.” He paused. “Love isn’t that simple, Bones. It’s a helluva lot more complicated than that. People who’ve been married for fifty years? They love each other–”

“Once again, vague, Booth.”

“Alright. Think of it like a chart. Love is the big bold word at the top of the screen–”

“The Heading.”

“Sure–” He sipped his coffee. “And then there are all of these subheadings–things that make up ‘love’.  You know, respect is one thing. Friendship. Enjoying spending your time with one another–”

“Common interests?”

“Sometimes. You don’t have to be exact duplicates of each other. That would get kind of boring, wouldn’t it? You keep each other on your toes more when you’re opposites–”

“Like us.”

Booth nodded. “We’re always bouncing ideas off each other. You don’t agree, you tell me a new viewpoint. I’d hate it if you agreed with me all the time. It’d get boring.” He smiled at her softly.

“I think I understand–” She tucked her lip between her teeth thoughtfully. She sipped her water, then muttered,  “It’s possible that my definition of love was flawed.”

“But you like mine better, right?” Cocky grin.

She laughed at him lightly. “Yes.” The smile on her lips faded when the memory of earlier that night drifted back. Flawed love. Her eyes began to sting , so she looked away.

Booth knew better. He stood up from the chair and pulled Brennan into his arms. “Hey, Bones. It wasn’t completely wrong. It just wasn’t completely right.”

In his arms, she felt safe enough to let go of those memories. All of the times her casual lover had made love to her then made a quick retreat. It was a lot more painful than she had allowed herself to believe. Until she was safe. She sniffed. Then laughed a little. “I’m getting tears all over your shirt.”

“It washes.” He smiled at her again–an encouraging, sweet smile. He released her and went into the kitchen. She followed. He patted the countertop.

She hesitated at first, then hopped up, crossing her ankles, and watched as her partner made his way around her kitchen. He knew her kitchen  like he knew the little freckles on her neck and how it looked like a star if you connected the dots just right. He pulled out a tea kettle, filled it with water. Neither said a word. He respected her silence. She didn’t want to explain her lonliness.

The water was set to boil. He looked back up at Brennan. Her eyes watched her toes. She flexed them, unflexed them.

Whatever it was that was bothering her was beginning to bother him. Seeing her like that wasn’t a daily occurrence. He could count the times she had shed a tear in front of him on one hand. No tears had yet overflowed, but they were being held back by a floodgate.

Booth walked to the counter. Brennan gave him a look that said, “I don’t want your comfort, but I’ll take it if you offer.” False strength. He hopped onto the counter beside her, his legs moving at the same speed as hers.

There was a silence. A long silence before anyone spoke. And Brennan hated it. She knew Booth was reading her like he did. He was going to say something about monogamy and how sleeping with a married man was this and that and the other thing… why hadn’t she learned her lesson before, etc., etc…

“He’s an asshole, Bones,” he whispered. No judgment was in his voice. “He doesn’t deserve you.”

She looked up at him. The pain in her eyes said it all.

He slid his hand over to hers, squeezed it tightly.

“Whoever he is, he doesn’t deserve you.”

She gave a tear permission to slip down her cheek. It was a small release. But somehow it gave others the right to follow.

He reached over, sliding his palm and thumb along her cheek. He reached to the other cheek.

“Have I told you lately how… amazing you are?”

A muffled, almost forced laugh.

“All of these men, Bones–The sooner they see what I see–” His hand released from her cheek, but then tucked her hair behind her ear. Slowly. Gently. She had to catch her breath. It had been so long since a man had looked at her like that–with love. Not lust. With love. Admiration.

Time slowed. And for a moment, both thought their lips would touch.

The teapot began to whistle.

They laughed nervously.

“Why don’t you go into the living room and I’ll bring the tea to you?”

Brennan slipped to the floor. He poured the tea, finding a mug that he had left at her place long ago–”World’s Best FBI Agent”.

“Huh… wondered where that went.”

The hot liquid filled the mug. He dipped the Chammomile bag in it until the liquid turned brown, then walked into the living room.

“Do you want honey or anything–” He stopped and set the mug on the end table.

Brennan was laying on her side, eyes closed.

“Bones?”

She did not stir.

He walked up to her, slid his arms under her, one under her knees, one under her shoulders, then took her into her bedroom. He pulled the covers up around her.

Then he straightened.

He bent over, on impulse, and laid a kiss on her lips. He hovered over her for a moment longer than necessary, weight on his fists, simply looking at her. He reached over and turned off the beside lamp. The room was flooded in coal-black night. He turned and left.

Brennan’s eyes opened and watched as he walked out, his shadow against the bright hallway light. The house dipped into darkness as he flicked off the lights.

Once again, she was alone with her thoughts and the ambiguity of tragedy averted or joy avoided.

Feeling: Annoyed. I lost everything I just wrote! :X

January 14^th… 5:15- 6:33 2,235 words

Feeling: Glad. I love how it turned out and it was a much more productive writing session.

January 15th… 5:07–6:171496 words

Feeling: Tired.

Jan 16 3:50-3:58 1984 words

tired, accomplished

Jan 18 2:34-3:33

1,320 words

Jan. 19- 3:56-5:56 2380 words

~ Albert Einstein

——————————

I read somewhere where an author said that she ‘put pen to paper’. I like that. Putting pen to paper tonight, I really have no distinct direction in which I am going. All I know is that the words need to flow and the succubus that keeps screaming in my ear might possibly find a way out through this simple action.

Tonight I saw my sisters cry. I saw my mom cry. I even saw my dad cry. There’s an inalienable sense of loss when you see the strongest person you know breaking down. And as always, I was the the one who sat quietly by the sidelines, eyes red with tears that would never fall.