Booth was beaming with pride as he watched his partner take to the podium. There were no signs of Bones' earlier misgivings as she addressed the attentive audience, and she had them hanging on her every word within a matter of moments, laughing at her squinty jokes and sharing in her barely suppressed excitement. Seeing her in this context, it was hard to believe that she had ever struggled to find her feet in the social arena, and Booth was pretty sure that he was the only one who noticed the faint tremors in her fingertips, or the way her measured tone would imperceptibly waver when her eyes scanned the crowd.

It came as no surprise when Bones turned to address her team; thanking them briefly, but sincerely, for their help in exonerating 'The Boy with the Bleeding Heart.' Daisy, however, clearly wasn't expecting her mentor to include her in the accolade and, when her name rolled off Brennan's lips, the intern let out an undignified squeal, bouncing up and down on the spot. Seeing Sweets' pained expression, Booth couldn't contain a snort of laughter, and Cam glanced at him wryly, rolling her eyes heavenward. Booth's smile rapidly faded, though, when Bones sought out his gaze and regarded him with an expression that made his stomach clench and his heart swell.

"It isn't everyday you get to re-write history, and I can't deny that this is one of the most gratifying moments of my career," Brennan confessed, her lips quirking into a soft smile.

"However, I'm not the only person in this room who has devoted their life to uncovering the truth, and facts shouldn't come with a premium. I'm delighted that my team and I were able to vindicate an innocent man but, be he Prince or pauper, my partner helps us to differentiate between the good guys and the bad guys every single day. I couldn't do this without you, Booth," Brennan concluded, her voice faltering as she absorbed the warm intensity of her partner's gaze, "And I can't think of anyone I would rather share this moment with."

Being placed under the microscope without any warning should have made Booth squirm, but he was only marginally aware of the eyes boring into him. His attention was focused solely on his partner, and suddenly he was back at that exhibit, only a hair's breadth away from her, wondering if - this time - one of them might be brave enough to break the spell and bridge the gap between them. The crowd's eyes were darting back-and-forth, trying to comprehend their unspoken interplay, and Brennan eventually cleared her throat, hastily concluding her speech. Booth joined in the hearty applause that followed and, feeling a little rebellious amongst the staid academic types, brought his fingers to his lips and emitted a piercing wolf whistle. Brennan rolled her eyes at him reprovingly, but he didn't miss the smile that lit up her features as she gathered up her cue cards and carefully negotiated the steps leading down from the podium. Seeing how many geeks were queuing up to extend a gentlemanly hand, Booth started to meander his way across the floor, but he was forced to halt in his tracks when he heard Cam urgently calling his name, inferring from the violent shaking of her head that he should probably give Bones a few minutes to make nice before he set out to rescue her.

He wished he had his badge to dispel the teeming crowd of people jostling their way towards the bar, but it looked like he was going to have to wait his turn like everyone else. He was tempted to buy Bones a bottle of beer, just because the visual of her chugging from it in that fancy cocktail dress of hers was pretty entertaining but, by the time he was equipped with a measure of scotch and a far more respectable glass of red wine, fifteen minutes had elapsed and his partner was no-where to be seen. He finally found her engaging in a laboured conversation with a bespectacled professor, who was so decrepit he wouldn't have looked out of place at the exhibit downstairs and, if Bones' strained smile was any indication, her courteous façade wasn't going to last for much longer.

Booth couldn't help but notice the way his partner's shoulders sagged with relief when he came to stand unobtrusively by her side, and Bones wordlessly took the wine glass from him, taking a lengthy swig and shooting a disdainful glance towards the oblivious professor.

"I think he finds my cleavage more fascinating than my conversational skills, which is quite disconcerting, considering that he's old enough to be my grandfather," Brennan murmured, leaning close to her partner's ear to muffle her words.

"Well, unless he came equipped with a stash of little blue pills, I don't think you have anything to worry about, Bones."

Brennan hid a smile, elbowing Booth in the ribs, and then manufactured a regretful expression to appease her admirer. "Would you excuse us, Professor Whitley? I promised Agent Booth I'd introduce him to the Ambassador."

"Way to make me seem like a brown-noser, Bones," Booth muttered, allowing his partner to tug on the sleeve of his tuxedo and lead him across the room. He downed his scotch and tried to swallow his impatience as she was forced to stop and exchange pleasantries with virtually everyone they passed.

"See why I hate these things?" Brennan griped as soon as they were out of earshot, heaving an exasperated sigh and hastily finishing her own glass of wine.

Booth regarded her in surprise. "But this is your big night, Bones. I thought you'd be in your element now that you've got the whole public speaking thing out of the way."

"Far from it. I'm tired, my feet hurt, and if I have to explain the facts of Prince Anok's case one more time…"

"I thought you loved enlightening us lesser mortals," Booth teased, and Brennan glanced at him derisively.

"Not when they're perfectly capable of obtaining the information themselves! That's what the placards are for, Booth."

"Look, when Parker was five, he made me read 'Green Eggs and Ham' to him twelve times in one night. Sometimes you've got to suffer for your art."

"Then perhaps I should introduce you to Dr. Downey. I'm sure he'd be happy to tell you about his research in excruciating detail," Brennan retorted, casting a woeful glance in her partner's direction. "Am I this boring, Booth?"

"Only about twenty per cent of the time." Booth grinned when he saw his partner's wounded expression. "I'm kidding. Come on, let's go and find the others. I'm sure Daisy'd be more than happy to do the rounds for a while, and something tells me these eggheads won't be quite so inquisitive once she's finished with them."

Brennan studied her partner's expression, saw the teasing glint in his eyes, and started to laugh. "Don't be mean, Booth. Miss Wick may have her fair share of… shortcomings, but she also has the makings of an excellent forensic anthropologist." She pulled a face. "Besides, babysitting Sweets doesn't exactly sound like an appealing alternative."

"Let me guess, Hodgins only agreed to show his face if Cam let him leave after an hour?"

"And I'm pretty sure Ange is only here for the free drinks," Brennan confirmed, surveying her friend's causal attire thoughtfully.

"So…" Booth ventured, eyeing his partner hopefully, "Do you want to make a break for it, maybe grab a late dinner at the Founding Fathers?"

Brennan looked wistful, but shook her head regretfully. "I'm the guest of honour, Booth. I can't dine and dash tonight."

Booth grinned at the allusion to their earlier escapades and, seeing an attendant approaching them with a platter of free champagne, he made a grab for two glasses.

"Well, then, I guess you'd better drink up, Bones."

Their eyes locked over their gleaming flutes, and Booth was poised to make a toast when he felt his partner stiffen besides him, her attention abruptly diverted elsewhere. Booth's own shoulders tensed when he followed the direction of her gaze. Andrew Hacker was weaving his way towards them with the FBI's press officer in tow, and Booth experienced the fleeting desire to smack the obsequious smile off his face.

"Temperance, I wanted to offer my congratulations in person. You look stunning, as always," the Assistant Director gushed, and Booth was galled to see his unflappable partner blushing in the wake of his praise.

"Andrew, what are you doing here? I thought we discussed - "

"I know, and please forgive the intrusion," Andrew hastily interjected, "But after we spoke last night, it occurred to me that I've been overlooking a golden PR opportunity. Temperance, your input has proved invaluable to the FBI, and we haven't had much positive publicity lately. If you'd be willing to pose for a few pictures with Prince Anok over there, I've been assured a space on the front page of the Washington Times tomorrow. How do you like the tagline, 'no case is too old to solve?'"

Booth nearly choked on his champagne. "You're kidding, right? Did you make that one up all by yourself?"

"I'm sorry, is there a problem, Agent Booth?" Andrew asked, regarding his subordinate with a strained smile.

"No, I just… Bones isn't much of a glory hound, Sir. I'm not saying that she doesn't deserve to make the headlines," Booth hastened to add, casting an appeasing glance in his partner's direction, "But it's better if she retains some kind of anonymity on the job, you know?"

"I understand your concerns, Agent Booth," Hacker said in a tone that suggested the exact opposite, "But people only have to pick up a copy of Temperance's latest book to see what she looks like."

"That's true, Booth," Brennan conceded, her tone devoid of inflection.

"So you don't mind if I borrow her for a while, Agent Booth?"

"You don't have to ask his permission, Andrew. He's not my keeper," Brennan said abruptly, and Booth couldn't figure out whether she was reprimanding or reassuring his boss.

"Then I guess you've got your answer," Booth countered lightly, struggling to keep his tone even. He turned to leave, and Brennan reached out, curling her fingers lightly around his wrist.

"Booth, where are you going? Didn't you hear what Andrew just said? The article's going to be about the FBI's relationship with the Medico-Legal lab. That means he wants you for the photo op, too." She glanced at the Assistant Director pointedly, "Right?"

Andrew had the grace to look uncomfortable. "Actually, Agent Booth's right about keeping a low profile when you're out in the field. Obviously, we can't limit your exposure, but I'd be happy to stand in on his behalf. I promise I won't monopolise your time for long," Hacker assured Brennan, before adopting a flirtatious smile, "Unless you want me to, of course," he added, and Booth suddenly found himself fighting the urge to vomit.

"OK, well, I'll just…" he gestured aimlessly towards the throng of people, raising his hand in a static wave, and disappeared before Brennan had the chance to voice her objections.

"Booth, wait!" Brennan yelled after her partner's retreating form, moving to intercept the FBI Agent before he could make his way across the Jeffersonian's sprawling gardens. Walking as hastily as her heels would allow her to, she levelled him with an accusatory stare. "You were just going to leave without saying goodbye?"

After spending the last thirty minutes watching Bones flirt with his boss across a crowded room and listening to Sweets and Daisy trading lovey-dovey banter, Booth could only stand the torture for so long. Still, Bones would never be able to fathom the reasons for his increasingly foul mood, so he lifted his shoulders in casual shrug.

"I figured you wouldn't want me playing third wheel. You should've just invited Andrew in the first place. He was obviously looking for any excuse to see you."

"But he had no right to show up like that," Brennan objected, sounding vaguely apologetic, "At the very least, he should have had the courtesy to call ahead."

"Well, I guess he must really want to have sex with you, then, Bones," Booth observed sarcastically, echoing his partner's earlier sentiment and wondering how it was possible for Bones to determine that a stranger wanted to sleep with her within a matter of minutes, and yet be incapable of deducing that he had been in love with her for the last four years.

"I'm not…" Brennan hesitated, sparing her partner a fleeting glance, "I'm not sure if I want to see him anymore."

Booth resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He should have been elated by Bones' revelation, but after the parade of guys she'd dated in recent months, he knew Andrew wasn't going to be the last.

"All relationships are temporary, right?" he asked, regarding his partner with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Yes," Brennan affirmed unconvincingly, "But you… you don't believe that."

"I don't know, Bones," Booth said thoughtfully, gazing across the scenic landscape ahead of him, "Maybe you're right."

Brennan glanced at him sharply. "What?"

"Maybe I should've learned my lesson after Rebecca. Maybe it is impossible to meet someone who's gonna love you as much as you love them." His features twisted into a bitter smile. "I mean, you might think that there's something special there, but they could just be biding their time until the next shiny bauble comes along, you know?"

Brennan visibly flinched, "Booth – "

"Look, I'm tired, Bones, OK?" Booth heaved a weary sigh, finally meeting his partner's gaze and trying not to notice how goddamn beautiful she looked with the incandescent moonlight illuminating her pale skin. "You should get back inside."

"But I want you to come with me," Brennan entreated, her eyes shining earnestly.

"Bones, don't get me wrong, I'm all for seeing you getting the recognition you deserve, but I don't… I don't belong in there." Booth was aiming to sound matter-of-fact, but there was no mistaking the note of defeat in his tone.

"Booth, none of us are enjoying this glorified meet-and-greet, but you have every right to be here." Brennan bumped her partner's shoulder with her own. "Didn't you hear what I said earlier? You're as much a part of this team as I am."

"Yeah?" Booth seemed to be deliberating over something, but then he gritted his teeth and turned to face his partner, his expression torn between hurt and anger, "Then why did it take Jared all of two seconds to convince you that I was a loser?"

Brennan looked taken aback for a moment, and immediately assumed a defensive posture, wrapping her arms around her waist. Her silence stretched on for so long that Booth was poised to shake his head and walk away, but Brennan laid a hand on his forearm, squaring her shoulders.

"People have a habit of disappointing me, Booth," she said quietly, "My parents, Russ… Zack. You're always telling me that I'm a poor judge of character; that I have terrible taste in men. It would be… irrational to rely on blind faith when it comes to you."

"Blind faith?" Booth echoed, his voice raising a decibel in disbelief, and then something visibly snapped. "I crawled out of a hospital bed to save your life, Bones. I went out of my way to get your brother a reduced sentence, and I let you put me through hell on that witness stand so your old man had a shot at getting out of jail."

"That was your decision, Booth. I never asked you to – "

"Bones, for once in your life, just shut up and goddamn listen, would you?"

Booth's tone was so ferocious that Brennan abruptly closed her mouth, biting her lower lip anxiously.

"I dragged my eight-year-old son to a federal penitentiary on Christmas Day, all so I could rig up a tree for your godforsaken family," Booth continued, sucking in a ragged breath as the muscles in his jaw began twitching violently, "I used my bare hands to dig you out of what would've been your own grave, Bones. I've killed for you; hell, I even took a bullet for you. And you're telling me, what? That it all counts for nothing? That everything we've been through together was suddenly… eclipsed after one evening with my brother? Because from where I'm sitting, that sounds pretty damn irrational."

Brennan's hand was visibly shaking as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She swallowed audibly, not trusting her voice to remain steady, "You're right," she conceded hoarsely, finally mustering the courage to look her partner in the eyes, "You've always been there for me, Booth; without expecting anything in return."

She took a deep breath, her tone gathering momentum, "But that doesn't mean to say that one day - "

Booth rolled his eyes, snorting in disbelief. "You know what? Just forget it."

Brennan regarded him with shimmering eyes, unaccustomed to the sensation of her heart racing in her throat and her stomach churning nauseously. "Well, what do you want me to say, Booth? That I was wrong? That I don't deserve your friendship? That I led awake for two consecutive nights feeling terrible about myself; that I was terrified you'd never forgive me?"

"Why? I forgave you for jetting off to Guatemala before I'd barely regained consciousness, didn't I?" Booth snapped, fighting to maintain his resolve when Bones recoiled as though she'd been slapped.

"I forgave you for blackmailing me into handing over my sperm, when you know - " he stared at his partner intently, "You know what I've been through with Parker."

"But you agreed – "

"I agreed because I had a tumour the size of a golf ball squashing my brain, Bones. If you had any respect for me at all, you would've known that. I watched you standing there with a poker face at my own fucking funeral, but I bit my tongue when you were crying on my shoulder over a dog that you'd known for all of five minutes."

"No," Brennan choked out, raising her index finger as if she was trying to physically ward off his words, "You have no idea what I…" she trailed off, shaking her head violently and, realising how close she was to breaking down, Booth sighed, consciously softening his tone.

"Bones, you've dated my buddy, my boss, my own brother. Hell, I actually believed you when you made that speech at my birthday party and said you would never spare some guy in a fancy suit a second glance again, but you've made it more than clear that I don't have any claim to your private life. I just…" He ducked his head resignedly, "I just want to know what the hell happened to the woman who sat across from me at the diner and agreed that crappy sex was a poor substitute for making love."

Brennan stared at him for a moment, the anguish in her eyes belying her stoic demeanour. "I need… I need to go back inside. People will be wondering where I am."

"Yeah, that's right, Bones," Booth announced in a scathing tone, "Run away. Just like you always do. God forbid that you actually face up to your feelings."

He turned to walk away, his features clouded with disgust, and cursed under his breath when Bones' hands unexpectedly collided with his back, shoving him violently. He stumbled forwards, barely managing to retain his balance, and whirled around to face her.

"You want to lecture me about facing up to my feelings, Booth?" Brennan demanded, her pallid cheeks suddenly imbued with colour, "When you're too much of a coward to follow through with anything? You tell me there's a line that we can't cross, that there are some people you can never sleep with because there's "too much at stake," and then you want me to jeopardise everything under the qualitative assumption that you might have changed your mind? I don't take risks like that, Booth, not when… not when it means I could lose the most rewarding friendship I've ever had."

Brennan bit her lip, composing her thoughts, and tried not to be unnerved by the way her partner's penetrating eyes were boring into her.

"You said that everything happens eventually, but it's been four years, Booth. Four years of trying to decode your confounding behaviour, four years of trying to ignore the effects of your touch. I spend half of our free time together wondering if you're about to kiss me, and the other half wondering why you don't - because any other man would have, Booth. You can't reasonably expect me to wait forever."

"So, what; you decide to date every eligible guy that happens to come along?"

"I came to your apartment and I told you that I wanted to believe that love exists, that it can last. You're the one who's supposed to be so good at reading people, Booth. I thought you might realise that I was referring to…" Brennan trailed off, still too scared to elaborate.

"What? To us?" Booth demanded, "When you spend most of your time pretending not to have a freakin' clue? When I have to listen to you spouting crap about how human beings aren't meant to be monogamous?"

"I'm not the only one who feigns ignorance, Booth. How can you expect me to be honest about my feelings when, every time I am, you fail to capitalise on the opportunity? And it hurts, Booth. When you told me that you loved me, I thought…" Brennan's tone wavered, and the tears that had been welling in her eyes finally spilled over. She swiped them away angrily, ducking her head to hide them from view.

"Well, it doesn't matter what I thought," she concluded bitterly, "Because you took it back, and you clearly think I'm a… a horrible person anyway."

"Bones, I don't think you're a horrible person," Booth said, in a tone that was laced with exhaustion, and Brennan finally met his gaze, caught off-guard by his broken expression.

"Then why are you so mad at me?" she asked plaintively.

"I'm not mad at you. I'm mad about you." Booth shook his head despairingly, letting out a bark of hollow laughter, which Brennan echoed uncertainly. She hesitantly reached out, dabbing at the drop of moisture that had collected in the corner of her partner's eye.

"God, Bones, how did things get so screwed up?" Booth massaged his brow as though he was trying to fend off a migraine, and then experimentally enveloped Brennan's hand in his own, inwardly breathing a sigh of relief when Bones chafed his knuckles with her thumb and entwined their fingers.

Spotting a nearby bench, Booth led his partner towards it, momentarily releasing her hand so he could remove his jacket and drape it over her bare shoulders. Bones was trembling violently, and he inwardly berated himself for letting his anger override his concern. Feeling Booth's fingertips tenderly skimming her collarbone, Brennan leaned into his touch, briefly resting her forehead against his shoulder, before pulling back and dropping wearily onto the worn wood. Booth sank down besides her, leaving barely an inch of space between them, and Brennan hesitated for a moment, before curling into his side. Booth smiled slightly, edging an arm around his partner's shoulders, and then pulled her close, breathing in the familiar fragrance of her shampoo until his heart regained something resembling a natural rhythm.

"When I thought you were dead, it was… it was like I had died, too," Brennan said after several moments of silence, and Booth frowned, regarding her pensively. "I was functioning on autopilot, but I wasn't consciously repressing my feelings, Booth. I couldn't cry; I couldn't feel anything. Every part of me was… anaesthetized. It was like my ability to derive any kind of joy from life – from my work - had been taken away from me. I thought it was somewhat fitting, at the time, because you were… you were the one who made me feel things that I never thought were possible in the first place. And then, when I saw you again, it was like something snapped back into place and there was this inexplicable… surge of emotion."

"Yeah, I think I remember that part, Bones," Booth remarked wryly, rubbing the side of his jaw.

"I'm sorry for hurting you, Booth," Brennan murmured, regarding him repentantly, "I hope you know that was never my intention."

"Well generally, when someone slugs you in the face, it's gonna hurt, Bones."

Brennan regarded him exasperatedly. "You know what I mean."

Booth's smile faded, and he nodded solemnly, his eyes fixed on the perfectly-cultivated lawn ahead of him. "Yeah, I do."

They lapsed into a contemplative silence, and gradually, the tension in Booth's rigid frame began to dissipate. He cupped his partner's chin in his hand and tilted her head upwards, and Brennan swallowed audibly, relieved beyond measure to see the affectionate warmth restored to Booth's attentive gaze.

"So," Booth ventured, his lips curving into a mischievous smile as he bridged the gap between them, invading Bones' personal space until they were virtually nose-to-nose, "Are you going to let me make amends for all those mixed signals?"

"If you mean, do I hope you're going to take me home and "sex me up," then yes," Brennan stated matter-of-factly, before breaking into a teasing grin of her own. "Exactly how out of practice are you, Booth?"

Booth looked affronted, and Brennan laughed, cutting off her partner's retort with a tentative kiss. Booth proceeded to demonstrate just how prodigious his technique could be, and re-captured Brennan's lips with his own, winding his fingers through her silken hair and caressing the nape of her neck as he deepened the contact. He took his time, exploring Bones' compliant mouth with a languid passion, until she softly moaned her approval. Figuring he should probably pull back before he was consumed by the urge to ravish her on the bench, Booth reluctantly disengaged himself, and the expression on Bones' face when she opened her eyes made his heart balloon inside his chest.

"Bones… the other night, outside the diner, did you want - I mean, were you hoping… did you want me to tell you that I loved you?"

Brennan froze for a moment, her cheeks flushing, and she seemed to be waging some kind of internal war, before nodding barely perceptibly.

The grin that slowly dawned on Booth's features was cheek-splitting, and he leaned forwards, whispering something into his partner's ear before taking the opportunity to gently nibble on it. Hearing Brennan take a breath, as if she was about to speak, Booth promptly placed a finger over her lips, shaking his head.

"And no, Bones, definitely not in an atta girl kind of way."