Eight weeks exactly since he'd sailed away. It had been two months since she'd woken up to see him studying her as she slept. Three weeks since he'd managed to call her from a port he'd briefly landed at. Eight weeks and two days since they'd slept together last, since she'd felt his breath on her skin, warm and welcome. He'd been someone she would relate to, someone who'd settled in amongst her quirks and her faults. He'd smile when she was trying to say something serious and laugh when she wasn't making a joke. He'd leave the toilet seat up and burn the bagels in the mornings. And sometimes, he'd sleep with her pulled close to him so she felt like it was just the two of them in the world, alone in their dreams.

The call had come at five twelve in the morning. She'd known the exact time because she'd been lying awake, watching the clock, waiting for an alarm to let her know that her thoughts of him would have to wait until she got home that night to her empty bed. Two months, and she'd still missed him.

"Dr. Temperance Brennan?"

"This is her."

"I'm afraid I have some bad news…"

It had all happened to quickly after that. By five fifteen, her imaginings of a bed with Sully back in it had dissipated to make way for thoughts of a battered and bruised yacht amongst a stormy sea. And Sully, who was apparently nowhere to be found.

Fourteen weeks and six days since he'd told her he loved her for the first time. She'd looked back at him in shock and he'd run a hand down her face, letting her know she didn't have to say it back. Thirteen weeks and two days since she'd ignored that piece of advice.

She wondered if it would have happened if she was there. If maybe they would have stayed longer somewhere, missed the freak storm that had thrown her ex-lover's body to the sea with no apparent regret.

It was twelve weeks since his toothbrush had made an appearance in her bathroom. Eleven weeks and four days since his razor had joined it. Somehow, waking up in the morning and seeing those things there, even if Sully hadn't stayed over, made her feel as if she belonged somewhere. Or if she had a place that other people thought they could belong to.

Nine weeks since they'd managed to stay overnight on the yacht that was now sinking in a tropical sea. Sully had brought champagne and they'd both drank too much and giggled like school children as they undressed each other.

Eight weeks since she'd waved him goodbye on the wharf. Fifty six days since they'd last kissed, since she'd seen his face and felt his lips smooth her skin. It felt like it had been longer; she closed her eyes and she found it harder to recall the scent of him, the way his hair fell across his forehead, the glean that intensified his eyes when they'd discuss something he was passionate about.

Sixteen weeks since she'd met him, since his arrogance and his sense of humour and his knowledge had caught her attention.

And five days until the memorial service.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

A/N: No beta reader and no read through; any mistakes are my own.

Characters are obviously not mine.

I know not many people jumped on the Sully/Bren bandwagon. But I was in the minority, and I thought he was a nice guy. No one will match Booth in the depth of relationship they share with Brennan, but at least Sully gave her some light for a while.

Thanks for reading (if you made it this far after you realised it wasn't a B/B fic).

Reviews coveted.

PS. I haven't forgotten my other fics… They're just taking longer to write than I thought and life keeps getting in the way.