A/N Hello! I bet you all thought I abandoned this story, huh? Well, I assure you I did not. I have been focusing heavily on my CYSHAB sequel 'Death, Plus One,' but I have not forgotten about Brennan's letters.

I appreciate you finding this story again, and hope you still like this little collection of related One Shots that spun off separately from CYSHAB. Please review!

Disclaimer: I still don't own anything, honest… Just this story.

"Bones, I told you it was going to be a boring night, you could have just stayed home." Booth eyed his partner from the corner of his eye after hearing her sigh for the fifth time in eight minutes.

"Booth, I would only be worried if I stayed home, knowing you'd be on this stake-out by yourself." She looked out her passenger window at the dilapidated neighborhood surrounding the equally-dilapidated uncover truck in which they currently sat. "I don't like it when you have to do these things by yourself."

"Babe, tonight is just a watch-and-learn stake-out; like I said earlier, nothing is going to happen – I am here to simply collect data and report it back to higher-ups."

"If you're the 'Head' of Major Crimes, why do you have to be the one collecting the data? Why can't you send one of your Juniors out to do this job?"

"Bones, we've been over this dozens of times before. Juniors collect data on lower-profile jobs – much lower. This case? This is major. Huge. Delgado is a massive player in the Colombian Mafia movements of illegal gold mining. Hell, unlawful mining has become more lucrative than coca harvesting or cocaine running. Thousands and thousands of people have been displaced from their homes, abused, trafficked, or worse, murdered, simply because Delgado and his cronies want to pull the precious metal from the ground. And what do they do with it? They bring it up here and sell it – they clean the blood from their hands by passing it off as legitimately obtained material." Booth looked out at the darkened street then turned back to his partner. "Kids – kids like Parker – are taken from their families – from families who love them and only want the best for them – and assholes like Delgado turn them into killing machines – into drug pushers – and mules." He reached for Brennan's hand; he knew she understood the depths of cruelty witnessed in other countries – she had first-hand experience, in fact. "At any rate, Bones, this is not something for a Junior Agent to be assigned to work… That's why I'm here, baby."

"I know, Booth. I just – I hate that you have to do these types of jobs in addition to the one you do every day, where I'm your partner…" She dropped her head back against the tattered headrest and looked at him. "I guess I'm being a little selfish -"

Her words were cut off by an explosion in the building behind their shadowed parking space; the building where Charlie was stationed with a team of FBI agents, just in case things went sideways for Booth out on the street.

Booth's earpiece crackled with Charlie's voice, backed by what Booth could only assume was gunfire. "Booth get outta there! Delgado's men are on to us!"

As Booth reached for the ignition, the back window of the truck shattered, a million pieces of safety glass raining down around the partners. He reached over and grabbed Brennan's shoulders, pushing her down below the window line and readied to throw the truck in gear. Before he was able to shift into 'Drive,' the passenger door window exploded, pierced by two bullets, his door was yanked open and a pair of hands reached in, yanking him from his seat.

"Booth!" Brennan tried to grab her partner as he was snatched from the truck cab unexpectedly, but suddenly felt herself being pulled from her crouched position partway between the seat and the floorboard.

When Booth saw the man reaching for his girlfriend, he struggled, now against four hands rather than just two, all of which were dragging him further from her grasp. "Take your fucking hands off her, you son of a bitch!" He screamed at the short, but stocky man who had a firm grasp on Brennan's biceps as he tugged her from the confines of the truck cab.

"Shut up, pig!" One of the men who was manhandling Booth pistol-whipped the agent in the back of the head. "You are in no position to be making demands, bastardo…" His thick Colombian accent growled in Booth's ear as the two men shoved him to the ground, face first.

Booth felt the larger guy, one he would later learn was named Roberto, press his knee into the middle of Booth's spine as he pulled the agent's arms back into a tight hold. The gunman pressed the barrel of his gun against the back of Booth's skull until the agent turned so his cheek was pressed against the warm asphalt of the Valdez Road, rather than his forehead, at which point, the gun was repositioned against his temple.

He had turned just in time to see Brennan's captor dragging her around from behind the truck, where he forcefully threw her body against the back quarter of the truck bed; Booth would later learn that was the impact that fractured three of his lover's ribs. The agent could feel his blood boiling at the harsh treatment of Brennan. "I said to leave her the hell alone, you motherfucker!"

The gun was pressed harder against Booth's temple, "And I told you, amigo, to shut the fuck up!" His words were spat and Booth could smell the stale liquor on the man's repulsive breath. "We don't like being spied on by Pigs. I am especially on-edge, so you should heed my warning, Officer, and maybe we'll ask Avilla to go a little bit easier on your pretty little partner over there."

"Enough!" A booming voice joined the trio of men holding the partners, but Booth couldn't turn his head to see whose voice it was.

Brennan chose that moment to scream at the men holding her boyfriend to the ground. "Get off of him!" She had more to say, but her words were halted by a swift blow to the side of her head as Avilla back-handed her, the momentum forcing the other side of her face to smash against the truck.

"It's OK, Bones. Just don't say anything…Just…stop." Booth's focus was completely on his partner; and he feared not for himself, but for what they planned to do to her.

"I said enough!" The man stepped into Booth's view, cutting off his line of vision to Brennan, and squatted down to glare at Booth. "You have messed with the wrong man, Señor Officer…" Delgado's right-hand-man, Hector Rivas, clenched his jaw as he growled at Booth. "You and your friends over there in the abandoned building are not as sneaky as you think… And you will pay for that." He spat in Booth's face and pushed himself back to his feet, turning to Avilla.

"Mata a la perra, pero asegurate que el este mirando... Quiero que sepa que el fallo en salvarla. Diviertete con ella si lo deseas. Pero siempre y cuando Booth lo vea todo…. Ese sera su castigo. Luego has lo que quieras con el."

Booth didn't miss the way Rivas grunted the words – pure cruelty dripping in every syllable, and without regard to the ramifications that went along with assaulting a law enforcement officer. Seeley Booth was not fluent in Spanish, but he recognized enough to know that his partner's life was in immediate grave danger. He watched as Avilla listened to Rivas' order, and then turned back to Brennan with a snarly smile. He reached over and grabbed one of her breasts roughly.

"You hear that, señorita? I get to have a little fun with you before I kill you in front of your pathetic little boyfriend." He laughed when Brennan tried to turn away and reached down, grabbing her crotch with one hand while he wrapped his other hand around her throat, his short, pudgy fingers squeezing as he leaned close to her lips.

Feeling a sudden flood of strength and power, Booth dislodged his hands from Roberto, who was still holding them behind his back while kneeling on the center of Booth's spine. The Special Agent swung his arm up, commandeering the glock from the gunman standing over his head, pulling him down to the ground. He used the momentum of the falling man to simultaneously push upwards with his other arm, throwing the Roberto off his back, and when the gunman hit the ground, Booth shot him in the kneecaps. When Roberto tried to attack Booth from behind, the Agent did a reverse head-butt, catching Roberto squarely in the nose with the back of his skull, dazing the Colombian enough that he fell backwards.

Booth raised the gun and trained his sight on Avilla. "Get the fuck away from her, bastardo. Now!" He waved the gun, letting his eyes dart over to where Rivas was quietly observing the whole charade. "Tell your man to back off Rivas! You'll never get away with this – you'll never get away with killing us, and you know it." He darted his eyes back and forth between Avilla and Rivas, only briefly catching sight of the blood dripping down the side of his partner's face.

"We may not get away with it – but you will be dead… So you will never know…"

"We don't need any more bloodshed… Tell your guy to release my partner and tell your other buddy over here to back the hell off…" He jerked his head towards Roberto when he felt the still-slightly-stunned man closing in behind him.

There was movement from across the street and Booth could tell that Charlie and at least part of his team had gotten out of the demolished building alive, and they were moving towards Booth's location with their guns drawn. Everything was happening so fast that Booth's instincts set him into motion before his logic ever kicked in. When Avilla's attention had been drawn to the incoming activity, Booth used that opportunity to take control of their situation. He closed the distance between himself and his partner, aiming at Avilla as he moved. "Bones, get down!" He yelled as she slumped to the ground, blood still running down the side of her face, dripping down and disappearing into the material of her black t-shirt; her arms cradled her torso as she slid down the side of the truck. As soon as she was safely away from Avilla, Booth squeezed the trigger, landing a shot that put Avilla to the ground instantly. He turned just in time to see Rivas pull his gun and aim it at Brennan, hatred filling the South American's eyes.

Lunging between Rivas and his fiancée, Booth kept his back to Brennan and raised his arm just as Rivas' first bullet struck his chest. Booth fired as he stumbled backwards, certain that Rivas had been hit with his bullet, but forgetting about Roberto as the burly man aimed his own pistol.

"NOOO!" Brennan screamed when she caught Roberto's movement, and Booth swept his arm back, tucking his girl safely behind him as two more shots rang out simultaneously.

One shot, fired from behind Brennan and Booth, they would later find out came from Charlie's weapon, was a clean shot into Roberto's chest. But the Colombian had already discharge his handgun, pumping a second round into Booth's upper chest, the momentum from which threw the Agent back against his partner and Charlie, as Booth's colleague rushed forward to help the partners.

After that…everything went dark for Booth. The last thing he saw was Brennan's panicked eyes staring down at him, tears falling freely as she cried for her lover. And Booth could remember thinking how bright and beautiful her blues were…and how much he was going to miss looking into them…


Jerking himself awake, Booth sat upright in bed, letting the soft sheet pool down at his naked waist. Panic swept over him and he turned to find his partner, lying next to him, still sleeping soundly with her back to him. The thin lines of moonlight shining through the blinds shed enough light on her pale skin for him to be able to see her clearly.

We fell asleep spooning…I was wrapped around her, Booth thought, as the fog of his nightmare cleared. We made love… repeatedly… It was the first time since their stake-out had gone wrong, leaving them both battered and beaten, that the lovers were both well enough to properly make love. Sure, they had pleasured each other as often as possible after Booth's discharge from the hospital, but between Brennan's fractured ribs and Booth's surgery incisions, they hadn't been able to properly love each other the way they always enjoyed. And from Brennan's deep, sleepy breaths, it was obvious to Booth that she had thoroughly enjoyed their evening.

Sweeping his hand roughly across his face, he groaned at the vividness of his dream – it was like they were right back there – under the thumb of Delgado's stooges – it was so real. Feeling his heartbeat calming, Booth scooted back down beneath the sheet, snuggling up behind his girl and wrapping his arm around her waist to pull her back against his chest. He shifted carefully so his thighs followed the line of hers, and her bottom was tucked into the curve of his crotch, just the way he liked it when they slept in that position. Nuzzling softly through her wild tresses, Booth found the sweet skin of Brennan's neck, and he pressed a kiss against her while inhaling her scent.

The kiss is what finally pulled Brennan from her sleepy dreams and she hummed, reaching down and covering Booth's hand, leaving them both to rest on the soft curve of her belly. Finally realizing her mate was awake in his movements, Brennan opened her eyes and turned her head until she could just make out his silhouette through her peripheral vision.

"Booth? Are you OK?" Her sleepy voice was deep and throaty, but her words clear.

"I had a nightmare." He tightened his hold on her and pressed his lips against her bare shoulder. "About that night…"

Recognizing the thick emotion in Booth's voice, Brennan rolled over, first to her back, then to her right side, so she was facing Booth. He kept his arm draped around her waist and when she was finally facing him, she felt his fingers flex against the small of her back, pulling her ever closer as he shifted his left arm to scoop beneath her neck and shoulders, so he could roll to his back and take her with him.

It was a movement they did often, so well-orchestrated it was as if they were one person moving, rather than two separate bodies. Brennan settled against her fiancée's shoulder and splayed her fingers wide across his chest, caressing the masculine skin beneath her touch. Booth reached his right palm up to her cheek and tilted her head, so she was looking up at him.

"I can't put you in that kind of danger, Bones. Never again. I can't endanger you again like that… I was so close to losing you…" He swallowed thickly and bit back the tears he only ever let her see. Outwardly, Booth was a tough agent; a real no-nonsense, hard-nose, kick-ass Special Agent. But at home with his partner, whether it was his apartment or hers, he was safe to let his emotions speak for themselves. He knew that with Brennan, His Bones, he could say anything, and it would be held in the utmost confidence. And so, he let her see what the ordeal had done to him, emotionally. "If that bastard had shot you…if he'd…If Avilla had hurt you any more than he already did…If…" He choked back a sob.

"Shhh…Booth, I'm alright." She palmed his cheek. "I'm OK, and you're OK. And those assholes are dead. You saved us…like you always do."

He shook his head. "I put us in that danger… I placed you in that danger, Baby." His eyes followed his hand as he traced the sharp curves of her cheek and jaw with a single finger, feeling the softness of her skin beneath his calloused pad. "If anything happened to you, I would have killed myself – if they didn't kill me first."

Fear at the seriousness of his confession brought Brennan up to her elbow, propping herself above his face. "Don't ever say that, Booth. Don't you dare even entertain such an asinine notion, Booth." She was serious in her reprimand, but gentle with her tone, understanding that he had been disturbed from slumber with horrible visions in a recount of their night. "You have a son; you have people here who love you; you have a religion that forbids suicide…"

"But I wouldn't have you, Bones." He pulled her down for a desperate kiss. "I wouldn't have the one person who completes me…" he muttered against her lips as he fisted her hair, pulling her in for another kiss as he rolled, so she was once again beneath his body. He moved his lips down to her jaw, then to her throat as she craned her neck, allowing him better access, like she knew he liked. His firm lips moved expertly across her sweet skin and he migrated towards her ear, nuzzling into the soft spot just behind her lobe and sucking softly, darting the tip of his tongue out occasionally to her soft lobe, tugging it into the warmth of his mouth. "Taste so fucking amazing, Bones…Goddamn perfection…" He mumbled, his breath against the wetness his mouth left behind sent shivers coursing through her body.

Without conscious thought, Brennan's body reacted to Booth's ministrations. She knew, in the frontal lobe of her brain, that he was desperate to chase the visions from his mind, therefore was engaging in heavy petting, which would ultimately lead to making love. On a deeper level, however, on the emotional level that he'd taught her so much about, she understood the sheer desire that he was battling. He wanted to consume her completely; mark her, take her, swallow her and keep her safe at all times; she understood all of that, because she often felt the need to do the same to him. There were times that Brennan was so wrapped up in needing to be close to her mate that she wanted to metaphorically crawl into his skin, become part of him and make him part of her. There were nights when the passion between them was so intense, that Brennan imagined if she were to ever lose the man currently nestled between her parted thighs, she would shrivel up and die a slow and painful death. The partners could seemingly read each other's minds, complete each other's sentences, and acquiesce to whatever it was the other needed, regardless of whether or not it made sense to the one bowing down.

Brennan parted her legs to make room for Booth to settle comfortably atop her body. She closed her eyes as he raked his fingers through her bed-messed hair. She moaned when his abdomen pressed against her heated core. She hummed in approval when he bit her gently on the shoulder before soothing the sting with his soft, silky tongue. For Booth, she would do anything, and in that moment, she knew what he needed… His mind, his body, needed to release that fear, to dispel that built-up terror of losing her.

"You talked to me when I was unconscious, Baby…" Booth mumbled against the hollow of her throat as he licked her with the flat of his tongue. "I remember…" He sucked her beating pulse as it increased beneath his lips. "I couldn't answer you, but I heard you…" He shoved his hands beneath her arms and gently pushed the up so they rested on the pillow beside her head. "Your voice…your amazing, fucking gorgeous, sexy voice, is what kept me grounded, Temperance…Kept me from going into the darkness." He kissed the underside of her left bicep, then moved over to the right, repeating the same tender, needy kiss.

He braced himself up on his elbows, suspending himself above her torso and looked down into her darkened blue-gray eyes. "How are your ribs, babe?" Booth was concerned that the evening before may have been too much for her, though he desperately wanted to be inside her once again. They had been forced to avoid intercourse for nearly two months while their broken bodies healed; now that they had rekindled that physical contact, Booth was anxious for more; but he wouldn't risk harming her in any way.

Brennan brought her arms down and cupped his neck, pulling him down onto her body. "I'm fine, Booth." Her words were husky with desire and she covered his mouth with hers, sucking his lips hungrily. "I was so afraid, Booth… When they pulled you from the truck and hit the back of your head…" she spoke against his lips, feeling the overwhelming emotions she'd subconsciously pushed down suddenly boil to the surface. "I was terrified to lose you, Booth."

He wiggled his hips, spreading his own legs apart, which forced her to spread her thighs enough to accommodate the weight and width of his body, and she easily complied. Booth moved his mouth from hers again and began a journey south, eager to taste her body again. He licked across the upper swells of her breasts, playfully nipping along the way and he brought his wide hands down to squeeze her soft mounds, pushing them together so he could quickly and easily flick his tongue from one pert nipple to the other, drawing sweet, sultry mewls from his woman's chest, encouraging him for more.

Keeping his hands and fingers in place, kneading, tweaking and pinching her pretty pink nipples, his mouth continued its trip down to her firm, yet soft tummy, where he slowly French kissed her delicate bellybutton, something he loved doing once he learned how much it turned her on. He loved making her squirm, and whenever he spent ample time paying attention to her adorably tiny dimple-like button, she grew impossibly wet; he could smell her arousal and it only served to drive him wild.

"Booth…" her breathy plea was accompanied by her fingers twining into his messy spiked hair, tugging him up. He wordlessly complied, dragging his tongue up her belly, through the valley of her gorgeous breasts and up to her throat. He suckled the soft skin on her neck before sliding up and capturing her lips with his. Brennan cradled his head in her palms, desperate for relief from the escalating pressure building up at her core. She thrust her tongue into her lover's mouth, licking along the line of his teeth and tickling the roof of his mouth playfully.

Booth threaded his fingers into Brennan's hair, rubbing the pads of his fingers along her scalp as he turned her head to the left. He quickly moved his lips to her ear, letting his tongue reach out and pull her lobe into his mouth, where he teased her by holding it between his rolled lips and humming. She burst out laughing while circling her legs around his waist. He would never get enough of hearing her deep, chesty laugh, and he loved that he could do that to her, while simultaneously driving her towards a sexual explosion.

Blindly lining himself up against her soft folds, Booth's hips rotated until he was just about to enter her warmth. He opened his eyes and looked down at her relaxed expression as she met his gaze from under heavy lids. "I love you, Temperance." As a pretty pale blush washed across her cheeks, Booth pressed forward, entering her welcoming body in the most intimate and ancient of ways.

"I love you too," she whispered back as she reached for his lips. "So damn much, Booth…" They deepened their kiss, their surging lips and tongues matching the rhythm Booth set as he thrust in and out of her body slow and steady, deep and fully.

Cradling her head in his folded arms, Booth pulled her face into the crook of his neck. "You read to me, Bones…" his words were in time with his pumps. "The sports page…" He pressed a kiss to her temple. "The movie listings…complete with times and ratings…" He nuzzled into her errant curls. "Your letters… I fucking love your letters, baby…" He craned his neck so he could place a kiss on her cheek.

As she listened to his words, his memories of while he was unconscious in the hospital, she fought back tears of relief that he was still with her – he was alive and well. She felt her chin quiver in happiness that her efforts while he was sleeping weren't in vain. She tightened her grip on the backs of his shoulders, as if she were determined to hold him in place for the rest of their lives, never again letting him get in harm's way. "Booth…" she breathed against his neck, feeling the bob of his Adam 's Apple just out of her lips' reach. "You heard me…"

"I heard you, Baby…Every goddamn word…I heard you. And I fought to come back to you… I'll always fight to come back to you." He rocked and rotated his hips, spreading her wide form within and filling her like no other could ever have done.

With that, she broke. The tears she was struggling to hold in erupted from behind her eyes. The lump in her throat gave way to a moaning cry. And her unexpected sudden orgasm triggered his own as she reached down her lover's back and pressed against the dimples just above his muscular ass, pressing him tighter against her body, ultimately resulting in pushing his erection further into her throbbing core until he couldn't push in any further. "Don't ever leave me, Booth…Don't ever leave… Not like that…" She cried into his neck as two months' worth of pent-up fear escaped from her carefully constructed barricades of protection. "Don't…Booth…Seeley…"

Slowing his body's rhythm as they both came down from their climaxes, Booth cradled her protectively beneath his large frame. "Shhh… It's OK, Baby…" He knew his girl only used his given first name when she was feeling particularly vulnerable, and only ever in the privacy of their home; he called her 'Temperance' far more than she ever called him 'Seeley', and that wasn't often at all. Rolling off to her side, Booth pulled her with him, so she was wrapped in his embrace. "We're safe, Bones…I know… it was scary…I know…I'm so sorry Baby…I'm so sorry you were hurt…" He pressed kisses into Brennan's hair as he felt her finally uncoil. This is what he'd been expecting for nearly 58 days; but until now, she'd been protecting herself from facing the truth of what happened to them, and how close they had truly come to dying. It was as if she was waiting to ensure both of their bodies had actually healed enough to be together before she would let the facts invade her perspective.

After several minutes passed, it could have been an hour or more, neither really knew, Brennan lifted her head from Booth's chest and gazed up at him through red-rimmed and puffy eyes. "I wasn't sure you heard me talking to you, Booth. We didn't talk about your time in the hospital very much." She watched him nod slightly as he skipped his dark brown eyes across her features; she continued. "I mean, I knew when you responded to me about the guy-hugs that you had heard at least part of that letter, but I didn't know if you remembered it; and I didn't know if you heard the rest of what I read to you." She shrugged gently as she dragged her fingertips across his upper chest.

"I heard you, alright, Bones. And I loved it. I couldn't always understand every word, for whatever reason, my brain was fogged. But I heard your voice, the lilts and variations, the way you pretended to be a movie announcer when you read the movie times to me…" He grinned when she ducked her head in embarrassment. Hooking his finger beneath her chin, he drew her eyes back to his. "I can't imagine any sound more comforting or soothing to me, than your voice, Temperance Brennan…"

She curled one side of her lips up, giving her fiancée the sexy half-smile that she knew he loved. "You want me to read to you again?" She arched her eyebrow in question.

Booth's own smile grew in response to her question, and to her eagerness to do something that she knew pleased him. "Really? You would do that again?"

She nodded, pressing her lips into a tight line as if stifling a grin as she looked into the depths of his dark pools of molten chocolate. "If it's something you like, then yes… I will." She saw the approval in her man's eyes and pushed back slowly. "I'll be right back." She swung her legs out of bed and padded out of the bedroom, towards the living room, and returned a moment later holding an envelope in her hand. Slipping back between the sheets of his bed, which he now considered 'their' bed, she snuggled into Booth's side once more, pressing a kiss against his pec before glancing up at his radiant smile. "Comfy?"

He nodded eagerly, like a little kid who was about to be read his favorite bed-time story, and he wrapped his arm tightly around her shoulders. When she lowered her cheek to his shoulder once more, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head, waiting for her to begin reading the next letter in succession.


"Dear Booth,

"It has been 26 days since we parted in DC.

"I am at our new satellite base camp. It appears that this location is quite promising; already the digs have produced lucrative results with artifacts. No additional skeletons except for the one I told you about in my last letter, but with the amount of village detriment we're unearthing, it should only be a matter of days before we find something more. Well, I hope so, anyway. While I find the artifacts interesting, it isn't my area of expertise, as you know. I am far more intrigued when I can hold ancient bones in my hands; when I can run my fingers along the smooth edges, or rough ones if the case may be… I am more in my element when I can look at various injuries or calcium build-ups and determine what kind of life the individual led while he or she walked these grounds.

"My tent here is much smaller, but it is still private. The other two supervisors are bunking together and while they are both pleasant enough women, I turned down their offer to stay with them, explaining that I prefer solitude in the evenings so I can think about my day and write. I think they assume I am working on my new book, and I didn't correct them. But in reality, I prefer to be alone while I write to you. I feel that I can express myself better on paper than I can with words, and I am more at ease without worrying if someone is observing me or my reactions to what I tell you.

"Are you still keeping well? I have some unfortunate news. We won't have another courier for a month. A large shipment of rations was brought to the main camp yesterday morning and rather than bringing a portion here after leaving there, the delivery men left everything at the main camp and left the transportation of our portion up to the interns. They claimed that it was not in their 'contract' to deliver to two locations… So, three of the interns brought our supplies to our location late yesterday afternoon. Daisy was among them and she was hesitant to approach me. I think she realizes what a mistake she made when she revealed your nickname for me, and she hasn't decided if I've forgiven her or not. And to be honest, I haven't decided either, but I was polite and professional. Nothing more, nothing less.

"I had another dream about you, Booth. I saw you in your army fatigues. You were sitting in a tent looking at something – a book or magazine or something; I couldn't tell you what it was. But that wasn't the point of the dream anyway. You looked so sad, Booth. Even now, thinking back, my chest hurts when I think of how you looked. And it was only a dream! People came and went through the tent, some acknowledging you and some not. And whenever you answered a greeting, you kept your eyes trained on the object in your hands. Then, even though I know this makes no sense whatsoever, I was there. I walked into the tent…I can still remember the feel of the sand and dirt giving way underfoot, and the dusty odor in the air, and the extreme aridness… I walked in and sat down across from you, and at first you didn't seem to notice. Then, almost in slow motion, you raised your eyes from what you were studying and met mine, and you smiled… That wide, toothy smile that you wear anytime you get really excited about something. Only, there was no reason for you to be that happy, because it was only me… I know that look – it's the look you get when your Flying Hockey team wins (What are they called again? Is it the Flyers? That seems too basic…) or when the Philadelphia baseball Fanatic guy runs up to the camera at a ball game and looks inside the lens, as if he can see the people on the other side. It's the look you get when you see Parker after a week apart. It's the look you get when we close a case and go to Founding Fathers to celebrate. And… as I thought about it after waking from the dream, it's the look you get when we haven't seen each other for a day or two, and you've stopped by my place with bagels and coffee in the morning… or when you show up at my door with Thai at 11:30 at night, because you saw my lights on…

"Booth, do you feel happy when you see me? Or is this my imagination? I know that when a person reaches REM sleep and dreams, the visions are nothing but fragments of daily life strung together incoherently. But this dream was so vivid, Booth – the feel of the desert, the smell of the heat, your smile. I could even smell a faint bit of your cologne when I woke, though that is probably because I am currently using your t-shirt as a pillow case (it was much softer than my standard issue covering and, well, it smelled like you…or like your detergent anyway… and the faint cologne it absorbed by being in your drawer, no doubt, with your other belongings.) But nevertheless, I could smell 'your' unique smell.

"But my question, really, is this: when you see me, and we haven't seen each other, are you as happy to see me as I am to see you? I don't show my emotions very well, Booth, but I quite enjoy seeing you; I want you to know that. I think, as I contemplate my memories, that you are, in fact, pleased when we 'hang out' after not working on a case for a few days. I don't know where I'm going with this story, Booth, but I just felt like I had to write and tell you about the dream and your smile and the desert feel and the smell…and I wanted you to know that I like seeing you on our off-hours. I don't think I ever told you that, and maybe it needed to be said.

"I was thinking about Parker today when I was working. A tiny deer came out of the forest and watched us. She didn't appear to fear our presence, she seemed curious. I took a picture of her so I could show Parker when I go home. I thought he might like to see it. He has never indicated to me that he likes deer, but he was the one for whom I took the picture.

"I am quite tired, so I am going to end this letter now. Once I woke from the dream last night, I didn't go back to sleep, I just wasn't tired after that. Then we had a very full day of work and a late (but sufficient!) dinner. And now I am exhausted…

"So, I hope you are well. I hope you are as happy as you can be in that place and that you find your work fulfilling. You are a tremendously brave man, Booth, and an asset to the Army and to our Country. I am very proud of you… I don't know if that means anything to you; but I know I like it when I think that I've done something that makes you proud of me, so I thought I should tell you that I am proud of you; proud to call you my partner, my best friend…I'm honored to have you in my life, Booth. And I hope that you, in some small way, feel a little bit of that towards me, though I would never ask you in person. I just find that it's easier for me to say things in writing… so there you have it. I hope I make you proud to know me. I strive to do things that will please you, though I know I often fail, please know that I try.

"Good night, Booth.

"I miss you so much….

"I wish you pleasant dreams.

"Always Yours,



When she folded the letter and replaced it into the envelope, she turned up to see Booth's expression. She was shocked to see that his eyes were wet with unshed tears. "I'm always so proud of you, Bones…And I'm humbled to think that I would do anything to make you proud of me…" He palmed her cheek. "You've made me the happiest man alive, Bones. And the luckiest. I love being your partner…"

Brennan wrapped her arm around his waist and pressed a kiss to the healing scar on his chest; the new one, which was not far away from the old one that she knew so well. "Thank you for letting me be your partner, Booth…It's made all the difference."

"Bones?" Booth asked quietly after several silent minutes.

"Hmm?" She snuggled into his side.

"Do you know what Rivas ordered Avilla to do to you when he was holding you against the truck?"

Brennan hesitated briefly. "Yes." Her reply was small, quiet.

"He threatened you, right? Although I could only pick out a few words, I knew them to be threats."

A shiver ran down her spine. "Yes. He threatened to kill me, Booth." She looked up to meet his enquiring eyes. "Do you want to know specifically what he said?"

Looking into her stormy blue eyes, Booth made the decision not to make her relive it. "No. It's OK. I just assumed you would have understood it." He pressed a kiss to her forehead as he felt her sigh in relief at not having to repeat the words. "All that matters is that we're OK, Bones."

"Thank you, Booth." She pressed a kiss to his throat and settled back into his embrace, squeezing her eyes shut at the memory of the words that were spat at her captor by his boss. As hard as she tried, however, she would never forget the threat as it replayed in her mind.

"Kill the bitch, but make sure he's watching when you do. I want him to know before he dies that he failed to save her. Have some 'fun' with her first if you want... Whatever you do, make sure Booth sees everything. That will be his punishment. Then you can do whatever you want with him."

She looped her arm around his waist and clung to her boyfriend, fighting to ignore the echoing words in her mind, knowing that Booth would do anything in his power to always keep her safe. And she vowed to herself to do the same for him.

Postscript A/N

So, there you have the letter from Day 26. When are we gonna find out why she decided not to send them!? AGGHHHH! I know, the suspense is killing me too… Oh, wait… I already know the answer. **whew**

Heh heh

Yeah, that was mean.

Anyway, did you like it? Please review!

And if you haven't started it yet, please check out CYSHAB's sequel 'Death, Plus One,' which is currently underway. I hope you enjoy!

Peace & love my friends,