A/N: I've been playing with this idea for a few months now and I really hope that it hasn't been done before. This chapter has a strong T rating for, um, sexual situations.

Temperance twirled her spoon through the soggy mass of cereal in her bowl, eyes glued to the computer screen. The limp Frosted Flakes floated in small clumps, long past their edible stage. Temperance hadn't noticed this, and she scooped a spoonful into her mouth. Now almost jelly-like, the previously crispy flakes slid down her throat in a sickening glob.

Finally tearing her eyes from the screen, she looked down into the bowl. With a grimace she pushed it away and her fingers found the keyboard again. She wasn't that hungry anyway.

She plinked away at the keys, loosing herself in Kathy's world. The sky outside her window grew darker until it looked as though a blanket of black had been draped over the building. Wind howled, a reminder of the summer storm due that night.

With one final resounding tap of the spacebar, Temperance sat back, her inspiration exhausted. Her own day came flooding back in a blur of images and a sigh escaped her lips. Sure, she'd given a name to the girl whose bones had resided on her examination table for the last few days, but that was never enough.

Her fingers itched to keep typing, but no more words would come. Frustrated, she slumped back into the couch. Her stomach gave a sharp growl and she glanced forlornly at the cereal bowl. She wasn't going to try that again.

Clicking 'Save,' she stood and stretched, vaguely wondering how long she'd been sitting in front of her laptop. She headed to the kitchen, stepping over a basket of unfolded laundry on the way. She stood in front of the open refrigerator, eyes probing every shadow for something decent to eat. Shifting her weight from foot to foot, she welcomed the cool air on her skin. Deciding there was nothing of interest in the fridge, she sighed, turned off the lights, and flumped back onto the couch. It was just one of those kinds of days.

Having given up on her writing, she laid back and closed her eyes. The wind picked up and was keeping her from falling into a deep sleep, but she drifted off nonetheless, dreaming in disjointed bits and pieces. She saw the girl in her stainless steel lab. The killer had removed her left hand and Temperance wondered where it had ended up. Booth entered the lab carrying an evidence bag. He told her it contained a hand. When she opened it she didn't find a hand; she found a hamburger. She licked her lips and just as she was about to take a bite there was a knock at the door.

Temperance flinched, rolled over. The hamburger was gone.

Another knock, more persistent this time.

Groaning and rubbing her eyes, Temperance got to her feet. A look at the clock told her there was only one person that could be standing on the other side of her door. She stumbled through the dark, sniffing the air and hoping he brought Thai.

He knocked again as she was unchaining the lock. "Hold on," she muttered and pulled open the door.

He hadn't brought Thai. His hands, usually carrying cartons of steaming food, were tucked into his pockets. His shoulders drooped and his shirt was wrinkled, as if he had grabbed it from a pile off the floor.

"Booth," she murmured startled at his appearance.

"Can I come in?" He wouldn't meet her probing gaze; instead he stared at a spot over her left shoulder.

Temperance nodded and opened the door wider. He stepped inside and followed her to the couch, where they sat side by side, knees barely touching. Neither of them said anything, but Temperance knew he would explain himself when he was ready. She could now make out the dark circles under his eyes and the stubble on his cheeks. She hadn't heard from him at all that day; he hadn't shown up at the lab. At the time it seemed odd, but she'd shoved it out of her mind. Now she wondered if that had been a mistake. She should have called him.

For a while, the only sounds where those of the wind and the clock ticking out the passing seconds. When he spoke, the words were so quiet Temperance wasn't sure she'd heard right.

"I'm leaving."

"What?"

He finally looked up to face her, and there was a pain in his eyes that she had never seen before. "Temperance, I'm leaving."

"What do you mean, 'leaving'?"

Booth drew a deep breath. "I'm going undercover. I don't know how long."

Temperance said nothing, her mind reeling. Booth took her hand in his and she concentrated on that. It was the only thing that seemed real right now.

"Where?" she whispered.

"Quebec."

Temperance jumped up. "But you don't even speak French!"

"That doesn't matter to them. I'm the best they've got."

For the first time, Temperance realized how exhausted his voice was. He sounded defeated.

She began to pace, thinking quickly. "I'll go with you."

"Temperance—" He stood and grabbed her hands, forcing her to stop pacing. "You know you can't do that."

He was right. She'd known it was impossible as soon as the words came out of her mouth, but hearing it from him somehow made it real. A single tear coursed down her check. Booth pulled her into a hug, wrapping his arms tightly around her and refusing to let go.

"Don't cry, Bones," he warned. His own voice threatened tears.

Her tear dripped onto his shirt, a small pool of black on the dark gray fabric. Staring at that small, insignificant dot she felt more tears welling up behind her eyes. He gathered her in closer, squeezed her tighter. She didn't want to let go, almost wishing they could stay this way forever.

Another tear silently escaped her eye. Booth kissed the top of her head, murmuring consolations.

"Everything will be fine."

The tears were flowing freely now and Temperance made no effort to hold them back. Booth tipped her chin up and gazed into her watery eyes, his own betraying every one of his emotions. With his thumb he brushed the wetness from her cheeks. Then suddenly it was his lips that were whisking her tears away.

One determined teardrop trailed down to her quivering lip and he kissed that one away as well. She wound her fingers through his hair, pulled him closer and kissed him back, trying to convey years of words never spoken in that single kiss. Booth seemed to understand. His tongue touched her lips and she opened her mouth to him. Once they'd had that first taste, there was no turning back. Their tongues collided, sweeping across each other. Booth's hand dropped to the small of her back where it so often resided, but now instead of making her angry it made her feel safe. She'd never felt anything like this before, never needed someone so bad. Never experienced a kiss so tender and passionate.

Booth brought his hand back up to the side of her face, fingers in her hair and pulled her closer, deepening the kiss. Temperance closed her eyes and lost herself in him. His stubble scratched her cheeks and he was holding her wrist so tight it almost hurt, but Temperance had never enjoyed a kiss more.

Booth pulled back and stared at his partner with a fierce intensity in his eyes. Temperance stared back, knowing he would be kissing her again soon enough.

She was right; he attacked her lips again. What had started off innocent and sweet had now turned hungry and frenzied. Temperance felt as though she was floating, and for a few moments she allowed herself the indulgence of turning off her brain and thinking with other parts of her body.

Booth's hands had moved to her waist and his touch burned through her clothes. Temperance suddenly wished there was nothing separating his skin from hers and as if reading her thoughts, Booth took her by the hand and led her down the hall to her bedroom.

She couldn't help but marvel at the security of his touch. He gently laid her back on her bed and began peeling her clothing off. Temperance watched the look in his eyes, the look that showed he'd always wanted this. Wanted it just as bad as she did.

The way his gaze traveled over her naked frame didn't make her uncomfortable, it made her feel complete. He brushed the hair away from her face, his fingers barely grazing her skin. She leaned into his touch, loosing herself in this new sense of belonging.

Admitting to herself that she couldn't wait anymore, Temperance reached up to undo Booth's belt buckle. He grabbed her wrist and held it tight.

"Are you sure this is what you want?"

The way he looked at her, the slight rasp in his voice…the hint of hesitation. "I want you, Booth."

Her words seemed to surprise him. She drew in a shaky breath, afraid to say what had been on her mind since the first time she'd laid her eyes on him. "I've always wanted you," she whispered softly.

Booth allowed her to unbuckle his belt and slip off his pants, placing light kisses down her neck as she did so. Breathless with anticipation, she rid him of the rest of his clothes. She'd always known he was healthy and muscular, but to see him here, kneeling above her, put it into a different perspective. Between his arms she felt safe.

The lovemaking was different than any other sex she'd ever had. It was slow and sweet and gentle. They were breaking the laws of physics, occupying the same space, just as Booth said they could. She hadn't wanted to believe him at the time, but now…

She curled up as close to him as she could, holding him tight and knowing she might never see him again. Her head rested on his chest and rose and fell with his rhythmic breathing.

Booth traced her lips with his thumb. "Close your eyes."

She obeyed reluctantly. She'd thought she was so strong and independent, but lying in bed with Booth seemed to have changed that. She wanted him to take care of her. To protect her.

After a few uncertain moments, she relaxed against him. The sounds of the raging storm outside faded away. She drifted off to the steady beat of Booth's heart.

-OoOoOoOo-

Booth didn't sleep. How could he with his beautiful Bones snoring lightly on top of him? The entire night he'd fought with himself; it didn't seem right to leave now. Actually, it had never seemed right, but now it was just plain wrong. Temperance had shown him a side of her he rarely saw, a vulnerability she quite possibly didn't even know she had.

He hadn't come to her house expecting sex, though he couldn't say he hadn't imagined it happening.

Glancing over at the alarm clock, he realized that he was probably going to miss his flight. The thought only made him hug his partner closer.

His cell phone trilled. He cringed at the interruption, but Temperance never even flinched. His heart nearly shattering in the process, Booth disentangled himself from her and slipped out of her bed.

He searched the floor for his discarded clothing, thinking that Temperance would probably be madder at him if he neglected his duties and stayed in D.C. than if he left. At least he hoped that was what she'd think.

When finally he was dressed in his day-old clothes, Booth allowed his gaze to linger on his sleeping partner. For three years they had danced around each other, for three years denied everything there was between them. One night was a good start, but he wanted more. And he wouldn't live until he got it.

He considered waking her, decided against it. She looked so peaceful with her auburn hair splayed out on the pillow and her lips curled up in a little smile. He swept over to the side of the bed and pressed a lingering kiss to her cheek. With one last whispered goodbye, he left the room.

In the kitchen he stopped dead in his tracks. He had to tell her…

He searched for a piece of paper and something to write with. Knowing his partner as well as he did, the search didn't take long. Tapping the pen against his chin, he debated what to write.

Deciding to go with the less poetic version, Booth scrawled three words on the paper. He left it out where he knew she would see it and, loathing himself for it, walked out of her apartment, closing the door silently behind him.

-OoOoOoOo-

Temperance woke with an undeniable feeling of joy. The previous night had been the best of her life. She'd finally made that risky leap and it had paid off.

She'd rolled over to wake Booth with a kiss.

Her heart skipped a beat.

He wasn't there.

In a panic, she leapt out of bed and snatched a t-shirt off the floor to cover her nakedness. Bare feet pattering on the cold floor, she checked every room in her apartment, her dread mounting as she found each one empty.

When finally she came to the conclusion that she was alone, she sulked back to the kitchen.

Of course he was gone. He'd said he was leaving. She couldn't expect him to break his commitment to his country.

But what about his commitment to her?

He hadn't made the commitment, she thought to herself. I hopped him.

Something about that phrase didn't sound quite right, but Booth wasn't there to correct her.

Sighing, she slouched against the counter and dropped her head into her hands, mentally kicking herself for feeling this way. She was a strong, independent, intelligent, motivated, rational woman, and she kept telling herself that.

Not feeling any better, she opened her eyes and searched for something to eat. At once she noticed the little yellow notepad that usually resided in the drawer with all her pens. She grabbed it and read Booth's untidy scrawl with more tears welling in her eyes.

I love you.

A single tear fell from the strong, independent, intelligent, motivated, rational woman's eye. It dripped onto the paper, blurring the 'y.'

She stared at those three simple words and somehow knew they were true. She glanced up, almost expecting to see Booth standing in front of her, a smile etched across his lips.

But of course he wasn't there.

He was gone.

A/N: I'll give you a cookie if you let me know what you think. C: