I just HAD to. There will be a million of these, but I couldn't resist. I've decided not to write my thoughts on the episode because… well, I think you know.








She breaks my heart.

The expression itself is so common. So… mundane, even. Repetition has made it something meaningless. So that it has become a classic, but not a reality. It felt that way to me whenever I heard it, at least before this. Before she broke my heart.

Because it was beating in my chest, loud, breathless beats, and then it wasn't. It was torn and it hurt in my chest like my blood was poison. I hate superlatives. But this… this is the worse than being shot or stabbed or… well, anything. No one ever took my heart because, well, if they had I wouldn't be alive now, would I?

She manages to break it and leave me standing there next to her like the ghost of a man.

She speaks from her heart for the first time in a very, very long time. She cries in front of me for the first time in a very, very long time. I never forgot the pain she'd been through, but somehow… I don't know, I suppose I felt that she'd moved on. She has, in fact. A part of me longs to think I helped with that, but I'm a selfish fool. When she spoke from her heart she wasn't speaking for her, she was only forcing herself to say those things to help him. It was never about her.

Or me, as I spat out something I'd sworn to myself I'd never say.

She managed to make my eyes shine with tears, even in front of the kid. It took a lot of my well-tested self control not to fling myself at her in a crushing embrace. The raw confessions, both of them, hung in the air like grotesque Christmas garlands. I couldn't take it. I'd given her a tissue when I wanted to fold my broken heart into it and slip it in as well, unnoticed but there. Hers.

Not to heal, just to keep.

I'd felt her hand over where my heart used to be, as though she understood, even though she didn't. As though she was saying: "Booth, it's not poison pumping through your veins. It's not broken, see?" and I reached out unconsciously so that I could believe it, so that I could feel it too.

Mostly, though, so that I could touch her hand.

But it slipped away. I was too late, again. And then with her eyes she made me say something I didn't want to say. She knew she was hurting me, but she was taking care of Sweets this time. Not me. So I said it.

And then we left, hoping (all three of us, now) to leave those floating secrets behind, and praying (I know I was) that they wouldn't follow me once I was alone. The sound of crashing plates and a young girl crying.

Not of the young boy, so furious at life he wanted to end it. That… was the past. I'm not going to think about that now.

"Did you hear me, Booth?" she asks.

We're sitting in my apartment, alone. I didn't have the guts to clean up. The plates are still on the table, the rests of food still on the plates. Once she's gone I'll wash them or shatter them, it doesn't matter now. How I handle her pain doesn't matter, I can cry and scream once she's gone.

I just wish she never had to leave, though.

Dr Wyatt understood that something had happened and didn't prolong the meal, even though we managed to have a good time. The burden of providing conversation rested completely on the man, and he excelled at it. We talked, and postponed our anxiety, feeling good because we'd done it all for the kid. Sweets was just grateful of being taken care of, and he'd better be, because it had cost us a lot to heal him.

A lot.

"Booth?" she says, letting fear slip into her tone. I can't let her be afraid, so I answer.
"Of course I heard you, Bones. And you should stop apologising."

"But I know you didn't want to say it. I know that, and perhaps you shouldn't have. It was personal. I chose to say what I said, I shouldn't have made you…"

"We did it for the kid." I interrupt wearily. "We'll be okay. I'll be fine."

She looks beautiful as she takes my hand and draws her chair closer to mine, around the dining table.
"Booth, I think I know what you're going to do."


"Yes. I think you're going to hurt yourself. Not physically, but by letting your dark thoughts get a grip." There is a pause as I register her words with surprise. So perceptive of my moods. I thought I could fool her, but I was just a fool once again. "I still hate psychology though." She adds, as though her statement betrayed a firm belief.

I manage a half-attempt at a laugh.

"Sure, Bones."

"Don't." her eyes are shining. She's ripping it out of my chest now. Isn't it enough that it's broken? She has to do this too? "Don't do this. I can see it happening… I can see it! In your eyes I can see it, Booth…"

It's not like Bones to say things like that.

"Don't do it, Booth." Her voice becomes a breath and tense words fly out in a rush. "I know about letting bad things hold on. Is it about what I said? It has to be. There are more stories like that, if that's what you're worried about. Not many, thankfully, but some more. Is that what you feared?"

It is now.

"I'd rather not talk about that. I've moved on, Booth. I grew up and became strong. But I can't bear it if you… I can't take it. Stop looking like that."

"Like what, Bones?" But I know what she means. Because the desperation must be showing in my face, the terror of losing her, the anger that anyone could make her suffer, the desire to cleanse it away… for me, for her, for us.

She stands up, and the flowy dress swirls around her. From her height she looks back down at me and I'm blinded.

She's looking at me like she's shining a goddamn laser focus my way and I have to squint to see. "Bones, I'm sorry."

"No! Enough. I've had… I've had enough, Booth! Enough of your unfair feelings!"

"What the hell is that supposed to-"

"It means I'm tired! Do you like being in the dark? Is that it?" she reads my mind. "You have so much light in your life, Booth! Your wonderful son! Your good job, your friends! I… thought having me was a good thing too."

I hate the way she doubts this. I stand up abruptly and the chair slams back into the ground.

"Never doubt that." I say quietly and firmly. Not moving toward her is really becoming difficult. Maybe I want to kiss her, or hug her, or just… feel her close, but I want something and I want it now.

"I can't help doubting." She says.

"Then I can't help feeling those 'unfair' feelings, Bones. It's who I am."

"No. It's how you think. And that can change. It will change. You will stop blaming yourself. I have moved on. It was a tragic anecdote but I have moved on."

I wonder that she never considered I was hurt or angry because of what I said. She realised why I'd feel like I do too quickly. She knows me too well. It's time to leave, Seel, or you'll do something really stupid…

Wait, this is my apartment.

"Booth, are you hearing me?"

I sigh and murder the wall behind her, but she's having none of that either.

"Will you look into my eyes please?"

I can't look at her. The floor, the table, the fallen chair behind me… anything but her. She's really mad now, but so am I. I'm just better at hiding it, and anyway I'm not mad at her. Never at her.

"Booth, come on."

She steps toward me, right into my personal space, bringing with her the addictive smell that surrounds her and the addictive presence that laughs, laughs at my self-restraint…

"Maybe you should leave, Bones."

When did this turn us against one another? I'd been dying for the shrinks to leave so that I could hug her and make those horrible feelings go away, and now I was telling her to go?

"No." She's too close. Her eyes are too close. "Look at me. I need you to believe I'm okay. Look at me."

She puts her hands on either side of my face and makes me look. But the gesture is reminiscent of something else… of a lover asking for a kiss. I look at her.

She stares solidly back, and her eyes are screaming "Do you see now? I'm all right."

She smiles, my Bones. The lines blur, the walls blur, everything is unfocused except her strong, proud face and that true, brave smile.

I kiss her, and I fall in love with the feel of her lips against mine because I can tell her smile grew wider for a second before she responded to my touch.

But before we let this go further (and man I'm dying to let this go wherever she damn wants) I have to say it. The words that will restore my heart back in my chest where it belongs.

"Bones." I break us apart and our faces are so close, I can taste her breath. And it's delicious, like intoxicating perfume. "Temperance."

She's smiling and the light is a supernova of brightness, but I'm not closing my eyes ever again. Finally. Finally I can do this, and she wants me to.

Without feeling surprised, I register that a steady beat starts up again, pumping life to my veins a little faster than it should because I'm holding her in my arms… and it means she healed me once more.






BB lovin' is what I want comin'!!!

Soon, please, because we've been waiting for this

Since episode one, with that shooting-range fun

And now I'd like to express a wish

(It's not the one where Booth is a dish

You know, and ice cream and chocolate are involved)

It's the one where I ask you to help this author out

'Cause I'm an addict, and I know without a doubt

That at rhyming, I may not be the best of the few

But I'm trying here, guys, show this author some…





Wow, I really can't rhyme. But you got the picture, right? *does Puss-In-Boots impression (you know, that adorable cat from Shrek 2 that… yeah, you know)*