I've been away for a while, the reasons why being far too numerous to list here, but I needed to add my own contribution to the post-100 fanfiction explosion. It was really such a fantastic episode; superbly written and well-performed, with an ending so emotionally moving that I, along with many others, was brought to tears. Even watching it six [or six million] times later, I still cry during those final moments. Some people are infused with a deep hatred over everything that happened, but it has taken its rightful place as my favorite episode. I'm certain that this is a turning point for B&B, where something finally happened, and that can only mean good things are coming our way.

So please enjoy this 100th episode themed twoshot, the second chapter of which will hopefully be up tomorrow.

And remember, Bones fans, don't lose hope - everything happens eventually.

Life always dealt certain cards. And it was all left up to chance, fate - whatever you wanted to call it - what cards you drew. The roll of the dice couldn't be determined until they came to rest upon the table, their dotted faces unchanging. And the way the slots rolled was utterly random, the pull of the lever that set off the selection having nothing to do with outcome.

So maybe fate had been kind to him in the past. Or maybe he'd only gambled on things he was certain to win. Because otherwise, you couldn't really be good at gambling.

He'd learned that tonight.

"I'm the gambler."

Sweets had told him that it was because he was the gambler that he would have to be the one to step up and break the stalemate. He had to be the one to take the chance. For once, stop treading so goddamn carefully around her, otherwise forever they'd be caught there. No more moves, no more bets to play; just not-dates at the diner and just guy hugs and just partners. He would take every part of her that she gave him, but would he have forever continued to settle for second best, for "just" everything? Maybe. Maybe not. But there was no way to tell now. He'd taken his shot.

"I believe in giving this a chance. Look, I wanna give this a shot."
"You mean us? No, the FBI won't let us work together as a couple - "
"Don't do that; that is no reason - "

He'd believed in giving it a chance; actually giving it that shot. And to let her know that, he'd kissed her. He'd stepped forward and shown her just how much, his lips crashing into hers, as much to stop her from rationalizing her way out of it as to show her, show her, just for a moment, what it would be like. To convince her without words that a chance, and ideas like faith and love and us and forever, would be possible between them; they who had faced the world and weathered every single thing that life had thrown at them - together.

For a moment, it was true, it was tangible, and it was present in the brush of her fingers over his shoulders and the movement of her soft lips against his own.

And then that feeling was torn away from him as she'd pulled away, and though her taste still lingered on his tongue she'd stolen that from him, too, as her hands hitting him, pushing him away, became the only sensation he registered.

The beginnings of his rejection.

"No, no!"
"Why, why?"

She was right - he was obsessed with why. Why people do the things they do. And more than ever, he'd wanted to know why, in that perfect moment between them, she was resisting. Couldn't she see it, too? Didn't she understand that taking a risk was would be so freaking worth it if she'd just give it a chance? She'd given him an answer: Protection. From her. The very idea was insane, and the way her voice broke as she said it, the fact that her heart wasn't open like his, had convinced him there was more. More to the why she thought this couldn't work. But his mind was racing, his heart in overdrive, and he didn't refute her claims - when now he knew he could have, should have, and knew so much that every word out of her mouth wasn't true. He'd only begun to plead, an unwanted desperation creeping into his voice out of the weakness he felt at the thought that the chance he'd taken was one that she wouldn't.

"You, you thought you were protecting me, but you're the one who needs protecting."
"Protecting, from what?"
"From me! I - I don't have your kind of open heart."

He'd poured his heart out to her then, and there it was, all of it: he'd never had to explain what it was that he knew. They both knew. But only he understood from the beginning, and where they could take it now. How he could see it before them, right there, and though the image was fading fast, maybe if she would just trust that he was that guy, he was the one. One day they would have those fifty years behind them where he would look into the clear, innocent eyes that had been a part his dreams since that first meeting all those years ago, and remind her that it was him who knew, all along. Maybe, if she'd just...

"Just give it a chance; that's all I'm asking."

But no.

"No, you said it yourself: the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different outcome."
"Then let's go for a different outcome here! Alright, let's just, hear me out, alright? You know when you talk to older couples, who, you know, have been in love for thirty, or forty, or fifty years, alright, it's always the guy who says, 'I knew.' I knew. Right from the beginning."
"Your evidence is anecdotal."

She knew... she'd never once told him that she didn't, during the whole thing. The way her arm sought his as they walked off together into the cold, rainy world, told him that she knew.

"Look, I'm that guy. Bones, I'm that guy, I know."

But she didn't believe in gambling. Not what little they had now for a future so...breakable. Uncertain.

"I...I am not a gambler. I'm a scientist. I can't change! I don't know how. I don't know how..."

Didn't she know she was the biggest gamble of his life?

But he'd run out of things to say as he stared at her face. He could have said anything - how she'd already changed; years of his presence by her side, guiding her, teaching her, opening her mind and her soul to things she'd never acknowledged or felt possible; the very things that eventually gave her the open heart she insisted she didn't have. How even if she believed the nonsense she was spouting, she didn't need to change, not one bit, not for him. How she was so ridiculously perfect for him that he'd take her, just as she was, any day over any of the billions of people in the entire world. All he'd done, though, was stare, breathing heavily with mouth agape, at the one woman who had the ability to completely shatter his heart. His wild hopelessness was reflected back at him through eyes that were as filled with tears as his own. His pain, her pain, tracks of it marring her pale skin.

So it was in that moment that he'd believed her, and given up.

"Please, don't look so sad."
"Alright, okay... You're right; you're right."

He'd conceded, letting her slip away, and at last the hope he'd been carrying for six long years was extinguished, and the impact of it would have brought him to his knees had the concrete barrier not been there to support him. Six long years where he'd breathed her, dreamed of her, lived for her, and suddenly he was facing a life with no more purpose. She'd been his only purpose. But now, all that was over.

He'd laid his cards on the table.

Little did he know she held the ace.

"Can we still work together?"
"...Yeah."
"Thank you."
"But I gotta move on. You know, I gotta find someone who's, who's gonna love me...in thirty years, or forty, or fifty..."
"I know."

And she still did, even after she'd spurned him, shunned him, left him as the only thing he had left; just another soul without its mate, another face condemned to eternity searching for its other half. And he'd had to do something to let her know that since she wasn't willing to take a chance with him, she couldn't have that control over him anymore. Sure, they could work together - he didn't think he should, could, stop - but he would be trying to move on, no matter how his heart ached at the very thought. He needed to, for his own sanity, and for hers as well. She knew that. She told him so. In such a broken, defeated way that he knew at last that the risk was taken, the gamble was made, and the game was over.

They walked away from that place when he had enough strength to stand. But unsupported, the weight of their conversation was heavy in his mind, crushing. Their sad, resigned smiles were evidence of that, and she felt it, too, bumping into him, gauging his reaction, before taking his arm in the silent reassurance that they both so desperately desired. Her head fell against his shoulder, an apology and a different weight entirely, and he couldn't help but fall against her as well. Their steps taken together, drawing strength from one another. And though he'd lost his gamble, and felt like he'd lost everything with it, her by his side was the one thing he had left - at least for now. And for a moment, they both forgot the things they'd said, and how tomorrow they'd be different people, still the same Booth and his Bones, but changed by a deep, unforgettable knowledge. No words were needed. They'd already said it all.

They let all that slip away into the warm, spring night, and he brought himself to forget the future -

because who knew where it was going?

- leave the past behind -

because what was done was done.

- and live in the now, where, even for just that moment, they were together.

Right where they belonged.

*

tomorrow is Brennan's chapter :] see you all then!
A/N: the site kept screwing with my formatting, and deleting about half my text, haha. So if something doesn't make sense or feels like it's been cut off, know that tomorrow I'll also be re-checking this chapter to see if fanfiction has sorted out all its issues.