A/N: So I'm in the middle of writing a multi-chapter, but I just got a chance to watch the latest episode, and I don't know about anyone else, but I found myself a little…haunted by it. So this is me, assuring myself that everything really does work out in the end. I thought maybe I'd share it with anyone else looking for a little reassurance these days.
Two hours, sixteen minutes, and forty-nine seconds.
That's how long it had taken her to wind up at his door. How could he think that it would be so easy? That he could say those things to her, offer her the darkest secrets of her heart on a shining silver platter, and expect her to be able to adequately react right away?
Didn't he know her at all? Didn't he understand that she needed time to process things? To weigh facts, analyze possible outcomes, to work through the gut-wrenching fear that ripped through her body every time she thought of what might happen if they didn't work out?
A written confession would have been much more appropriate. Then she would have had time to compose a thoughtful, and eloquent response. Instead, the moment she'd thought they had missed was quite suddenly right in front of her, and it was all she could do not to let her knees buckle beneath her.
She'd had to push him away. Had to. There just wasn't any other option, not when her mind was reeling and his hands were running across her back, and his lips were pressed so tightly against her own. She needed time.
And she knew he could give her all those things. She just needed to find the strength to ask for them. And she had. Two hours, sixteen minutes, and forty-nine seconds after he had turned her world upside down, after she had told him she was too scared to try, after he had dropped her off in front of her apartment with a look in his eyes that made her stomach lurch.
She was here.
Her fingers curled into a fist as she brought her knuckles to the hard wood of his front door. She didn't think he'd be expecting her. Not so soon. But sometimes even predictable Temperance Brennan was capable of doing the unexpected. Sometimes she found the strength to accomplish things even she didn't know she was capable of doing.
Her heart beat in anticipation as she waited for him to open the door. Surely he hadn't gone out after he dropped her off? Surely he wasn't already trying to fulfill his promise of "moving on"? Because as far as she was concerned, if he was moving anywhere, she was coming too.
A line of worry drew itself across her brow as the seconds passed, but as she was about to raise her fist to knock again, the door opened and her anxiety only increased as she saw the look on his face.
His eyes were dark, and hollow looking. Lines of defeat traced his face, as though his faith in her had been holding him together, and now that he had lost it, everything had wilted. She could tell he wasn't allowing himself to hope that she was there for a the reason he wanted her to be. She could see it in the way he angled his body away from her, how he crossed his arms, how he looked at her with a mixture of weariness and grief. Like he just couldn't take anymore.
She quickly slipped in the door, and he took an automatic step backwards, letting her in. She closed the door behind her and walked towards him until she'd backed him into the arm of his couch.
Her fingers, pale in the dark light of the room, reached out for him. She curled her fingertips into the cotton of his shirt, pulling him towards her as she stepped in between his legs. The soft curves of her body were pressed so tightly against him, not even a sliver of moonlight could have made it between them.
He looked at her, waiting for her to say something. His eyes were earnest, but not hopeful. She pulled his face to hers until they were so close together he could taste her breath. Her blue eyes drilled into his like cerulean daggers, and it took his heartbroken mind a moment to realize what was happening. Temperance Brennan had come to a conclusion about something, and she was here to turn her hypothesis into theory. She was here to challenge her own faith. She was here for him.
Her breath was hot against him, fast, quick rushes of air, as her eyes searched his. "Promise me," she spoke, breaking the silence, "promise me that no matter what happens, you won't ever leave. Because if I mess this up, and the probability of that happening is quite high considering my history, then I need you to stay. I need you. Do you understand?"
Her fingers were curled so tightly into the fabric of his shirt he could feel the collar cutting into the back of his neck. All he could do was nod furiously, watching as the relief washed over her face. She released his shirt and threw her arms around him, pressing her body into his as though she was trying to sink through his skin. "Thank you," she whispered in his ear, drawing back to look into his eyes. "Thank you, Booth. For waiting for me. And for your patience."
He brought his hand up to run his fingertips along her jaw, her lips, her cheekbone. Her eyes were brimming but she would not allow the tears of relief to fall as she brought their lips together for the second time in two hours, sixteen minutes, and forty-nine seconds.
A/N: Short, I know. Let me know what you thought, if you'd like! I always enjoy hearing from you. Also, I have a few review replies from my last story, I'm getting to them I swear! Love to you all. - MC