Title: Needed Here

Rating: I rate everything T and M. This one, T.

Summary: Booth offers Brennan companionship and she learns to let go.

Disclaimer: Apparently they're not mine.

A/N: I hope you like. Please review, because reviews feed the imagination.

"I thought you'd be here," Booth said, stepping close, his hand dropping to her shoulder as she crouched on the grass, her head bowed. The long stands of dark hair hid her face as her fingers tugged at the few overgrown blades on the otherwise well maintained plot.

"Have we got a new case?" she asked, the quiver in her tone betraying the guise of strength she tried to convey.

"No, Bones. I'm not here for that." He tried to sound light, but a hint of hurt escaped and he wondered if she resented his presence.

She tucked the grass into a plastic bag, running her fingertips across the polished black marble. He felt the tension in her shoulder and knelt, aware that he was not asking permission to touch her. His arm slipped around her neck, easing her back against his chest. She shifted easily into his embrace.

"You think I'm going to break down?" She asked, turning her head, pressing her cheek against his shirt. He felt warm. He felt strong and protecting. She could rely on him. Maybe too much.

"No, Bones. I came to offer support." She nodded. "Are you alright?" Booth asked, turning his eyes to the plaque.

Matthew and Christine Brennan – May Solace Find You.

Brennan sighed. "I still miss them, Booth," she said. "Is that stupid? After all these years?" He shook his head, pressing a kiss to her hair. "I never found their bodies, yet I succumb to pointless sentimentality by purchasing a piece of land that has no significance to them. To me." His arm tightened, as if by instinct.

"This is your way, Bones," he reasoned. "To put them to rest. Don't question it." She ran her eyes over every curve of the eloquent gold writing, indulging, only for a moment, in a thought that she hated to dwell on.

"What happened to them, Booth?" She asked.

"I can't answer that," he said, adjusting himself, sitting on the grass. She slotted perfectly between his legs, drawing her knees to her chest. He brushed her hair aside, caressing her neck, contented that, even if he couldn't change her past, he could help her come to terms with what had happened. He could be her friend. Her companion.

"No," she said at last. "I guess not. I wouldn't want you to theorize anyway," she added. He smiled.

"Of course not." His hand moved over her arm, around her, linking his fingers with hers. When had they arrived at this place? When had Temperance Brennan allowed such liberties to be taken?

"I missed out on so much. They never saw me graduate. They don't know I am successful." Her voice lowered to a whisper, choked but too stubborn to admit that inside, her heart still broke every time she thought about her parents.

"I believe they do," Booth said, stroking her wrist with his thumb. "I believe in Heaven, Bones and I believe they are proud of you." She dipped her head, the grass blurred by her tears. Tears she hadn't allowed herself to shed in a long time. "They see their daughter, smart, successful and beautiful and they know, even if they had been alive, they couldn't have done a better job." He had begun to whisper, choked by his own sentiment and how much he believed it.

"Sometimes I wish they were still here," Brennan confessed, drawing a heaving breath into her lungs.

"I know," he replied, acutely aware of her body, tense and weary. "If I thought there was a way I could bring them back, I would. I'd sacrifice myself for you to have your childhood back." The conviction in his statement startled him into realising he'd do just about anything for the woman in his arms.

"No," she shook her head, tossing silken strands of hair around her shoulders. "I've learned to deal with mom and dad, now." She reclined back against his chest again and he was distinctly aware of his heart, thudding inside his chest. "I don't know if I could deal with losing you." The enormity of her words made him dizzy.

"Why? Can't you imagine life without an enormous pain in the ass?" He joked, lifting his eyes to the cloudless sky above their heads.

"No one has ever made an effort to love me like you do, Booth," she admitted, taking a small bunch of vibrant yellow daffodils into her hand. "Except maybe my parents and what would be the point in replacing one great love with another? If I can't have both," she laid the flowers on the memorial, "then I will accept and rejoice what I do have." He kissed her head again, touched beyond comprehension by her.

"Daffodils make me think of a fresh start. They blossom in spring, when things become new again. I brought these because I wanted to move on, today. Into a new place." Brennan moved from his embrace, lifting herself off the ground. He stared up at her for a moment, then stood too. "I'm a logic person, right?" He chuckled.

"Understatement of the century, Bones."

"Logic tells me that parents are there to nurture until adulthood when their offspring is meant to continue the cycle of procreation by finding a suitable mate. I survived without the nurturing and, if I pretend for a moment that I don't have any emotions, then logically there is no need for parents any longer." She smiled. "They cannot provide intimacy and companionship."

"Sex, you mean?" Brennan turned to face him, taking his hand in hers. He felt warm. He was there. She believed he always would be.

"Intimate love, Booth. And I need you for that."

Fluff, fluff, fluff.