There were conditions. Out of work conditions, the kind only a person who is insecure about their position in a relationship makes. He hated these conditions. Every chance he got, he bitched about them, took subtle jabs at their stupidity in front of her and her friends. The trying disapproving looks from her friends made him feel good because he wasn't the only one who noticed the ridiculousness of the conditions. He was a grown man, with a child and that worked at the FBI. A high crime solve rate, and his own office with people who worked under him. This wasn't high school, this wasn't even college. The more he thought about the conditions, the more he stewed. He'd broken three pens, ruined three shirts and a pair pants, and successfully pissed off three of his colleagues.

Through the pettiness of it all, he did try. He tried to obey, tried to behave and not be too insulting. This was her relationship, something she hadn't had in years. And she was happy; she smiled when she came into work and she smiled when she got to go home. That's what mattered most. So, when he had done his bitching for the morning hours, they'd go to the diner and he'd throw her a gentle apology and explain for the umpteenth time why he didn't get it, and she'd roll her eyes and pat his hand telling him it was okay and perfectly normal for him to feel the way he felt.

It went on for months. Nearly a year and he was beginning to think he was growing accustomed to it. Until he noticed her staying late, and not smiling as much when she got to go home. Instead, she was asking him to grab a late dinner with him and making excuses that he saw through because in reality she was a terrible liar and an even more horrible excuse maker. But he never asked her about her mood changes nor did he point out that she should just be honest and tell him she didn't want to go home. He simply obliged and took her to the Founding Fathers where they'd share some nachos and a beer or two and then he'd call her a cab with a friendly farewell, secretly wondering what it was about her that was changing. Ideas of her becoming skittish because it had been nearly a year with this guy and that meant questions of moving in together and becoming a seriously functioning couple that doesn't just satisfy each other all day on the weekends. It was getting real and he knew better than her that when things became real she became…Well, skittish.

Before he knew it, she was no longer smiling in the morning on her way into the office and she looked more tired, with bags growing under her eyes and her third cup of coffee in her hand. She was shutting herself in her office and snapping at her squints and avoiding personal topics with Angela. She was even deflecting him, except for when the sun went down and it was time to pack everything up and shut down. Their late night one hour long dinners at the Fathers' was rapidly turning into multiple hour long dinners with more than two beers and a tipsy cab ride to her house where he stumbled with her up to her door and bid her a frisky goodbye hug.

And now, it was his cellphone waking him in the middle of the night and not the decades old alarm clock on his nightstand. At first, things were silent and he'd hang up. Then it'd ring again and there'd only be one word of 'hello' before more silence engulfed him. Gathering the courage on the third call and another hour of sleep, he finally spoke up, his tone picking a harsh reality that scared even him.

"Bones, what's going on?"

"Shhh…I'm okay. I'm sorry I woke you."

"This is the third call in one night. You're not sorry."

"How do you know?"

"Because you're a shitty liar. So, what's going on?"

"I need out."

"Out of what? The perfect, happy relationship that you're in? No, you don't need out of that. It's good for you. He's good for you."

"I need out of the house."

"Oh."

"May I come over?"

"Isn't that against the conditions?"

"Nobody needs to know."

"Living on the edge there huh Bones?"

"Please."

"Uh yeah. Yeah. Do you want me to come get you?"

"No. I took a cab."

"You took…? What? You're already here? Well played Bones."

"Just come to the door. Bye."

He didn't even bother throwing on a shirt or pants to be decent. It was the middle of the night she probably wouldn't even come in. She'd just want a hug and reassurance and then leave. Because that's what always happened before. Before her relationship. The one that consumed her outside of work life and sometimes her work life. So he padded to the front door, sleep still in his eyes and swung it open. There she was, standing still in her light blue pj's that were flannel and had tiny little bones on them. Her eyes were clear of sleep but clouded with something else. Not her usual confusion, something stronger and stranger; foreign to her and frightening to him. She stepped around him with a grace that had him thinking he was dreaming; and moved to his kitchen where she helped herself to one of his beers before plopping down on his couch.

He plopped down next to her and let out a sigh, his hands clamping together in his lap. They didn't look at each other, nor did they say anything for a long while. She just sipped her beer and relaxed back into the soft green cushions. He adjusted from leaning back with his hands in his lap to leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. He could feel her eyes on his back, tracing him and trying to get a read on him the way he taught her to years ago. Feeling the discomfort creep up his spine he shot up to his feet and paced in front of his coffee table.

"Bones, what's going on? It's three in the morning, you've called three times and then just shown up. What would you have done had I not answered?"

"Used my key and woken you up the old fashion way."

"Bones, you can't just show up here in the middle of the night. Not when things are all right. That's not what that key is for."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. I'm your partner, I'm here for you. I'm just tired and cranky."

"I know. Me too."

"You're not sleeping."

"No."

"He doesn't know you're gone."

"Unless he's gotten up to use the restroom, then no. He doesn't."

"Bones, this…This isn't going to go over well. If he finds out you're gone, the first tree he's going to bark up is mine. And I really don't want to explain myself like I'm in the principal's office. So go home."

"I don't want to."

"Why?"

"I don't know. I was hoping you could help me figure that out."

She just stared up at him while he picked his jaw up off the floor. She was asking for his advice; something she often disagreed with and at times despised. Her brows were furrowed with concern and her lips were turned down like she had been defeated. He kneeled in front of her and took her hands in his smoothing his fingers over her knuckles.

"Bones, has something happened that I need to know about?"

"No. Why would you ask that? He's a great guy. He treats me exceptionally well."

"Obviously not if you don't want to go home."

"What's that thing you always say? Too much of something…"

"Too much of a good thing is a bad thing. That what's going on? He's too good for you? I thought that's what drew you to him? He was settled and secure. You like that."

"I thought I did."

"What's that mean Bones?"

"I don't know. I figured you would."

"I don't know anything about your relationship Bones. If you want my advice then I suggest you go home and discuss this with him. Not me."

"He told me he loved me."

"That's typical. He's loved you a long time now."

"This was the first he said it."

"Do you love him?"

"I'm not sure I know what love is."

"Oh come on Bones, sure you do. You know what love is."

"If I do it's a very unrealistic version."

"Like fairytale realistic?"

"I'm not sure."

"Bones, I really do think this is something you should be telling him. Really. He can help you more than I can."

"He doesn't know me like you do though."

"But he knows you better. In a different way than I do. We know each other as freidns. Really great friends and partners. He knows your ins and outs and well, he's seen a side of you that I haven't. In turn, he knows you better than I do."

"Just because he's had sex with me doesn't mean he knows me better."

"That's not what I mean Bones. I mean he's seen you when you're tired from work and just want to curl up. He's seen you in such a natural, normal state. When you're completely sated and when you're ravenous. That's a different kind of intamcy than sex. That's…Love Bones."

"Than how come he feels that way and I don't?"

"I don't know. Ask him."

"Booth, please. Don't make me beg for this. I need you."

"I can't help you Bones. I'm sorry. You need to go home, wake him up and tell him what you've told me."

"I'll hurt him Booth. I don't want to hurt him."

"You're not responsible for how he feels. Now go."

"Why won't you help me? I've helped you countless times. With Rebecca, Tess, Hannah."

"That's different. They didn't have rules in place like children. I never came to you in the middle of the night. We're different Bones, we think about these situations differently. I can't help you, I'm sorry."

"But I need you."

"No, you don't. Go home. Please."

"Fine."

When she walked out, he felt his chest tighten and his teeth graze his bottom lip as the door slammed behind her. There was an urge to call her back; chase her down the stairs and pull her into a tight hug all the while urging her back upstairs. But the conditions Sully had laid out to him in his office on a rainy Tuesday afternoon stuck with him. He was a n honorable man, he respected Sully even if he didn't care for his choices. He saw the way Bones looked at Sully, observed every smile and how genuine it was, how every giggle made her cheeks flush red. Every time, that tight sensation gripped his chest and he was left shaking his head, taking steady shallow breaths. Just as he did now, 1, 2, 3. It wasn't completely gone, but it had subsided enough to where if he took a deep breath searing pain wouldn't encase his chest cavity. He crawled back into bed and dreamt of her. Of them and everything they could be; of everything he could be for her. And he didn't wake once.

Four Months Later

The metal cap clanked against the wood coffee table before bumping into the pile of others. An exhausted groan left his lips as he leaned back and draped his arm over the back cushion. It hadn't taken but 2 hours this morning to get tired of her. She had been in a mood these last couple weeks and his patience was running thin. Restraining himself from snapping at her was wearing thin, biting his tongue becoming increasingly harder each hour of the day. SO to prevent the blow up of the century, he hid from her in his office with the blinds drawn shut and the door locked as if he wasn't there at all. He had arrangedfor his secretary to say he was out at the field doing interviews or down in the range. Places he knew she would never go alone or without verification from him first. Now, after a 16 hour work day of dealing with irate mood, he was sipping his eighth beer and clicking on the hockey highlights of the week. Twenty minutes must have gone by when his phone began to buzz. He picked it up without a second buzz or looking at the screen.

"Booth."

"Hey."

"It's my turn huh?"

"I've lost track."

"Where you at?"

"Outside. I want to go to the Fathers'."

"You sure? What about people seeing us?"

"Too tired to care."

"Those were your conditions Bones."

"I know."

"Don't do something you'll regret."

"I think I'm past that point Booth. Hurry up. It's cold outside and my coat is thin."

"All right. I'll be done in a minute. Call a cab, I've already pre-gamed."

"There's already one here waiting. Another reason for you to hurry. He's running the meter."

"Is that your way of saying this ride is on me?"

"It is your turn."

"So much for losing track there huh Bones?"

"Goodbye Booth."

It was like clockwork every Tuesday night near one a.m. that she was calling. He may as well set an alarm for fifteen minutes early so he'd be ready to go when she called. Instead, he'd just have to throw on a dingy pair of jeans and t shirt and stomp downstairs. When they arrived at the bar, taking their usual side seats and holding up their index fingers in tandem, there were no words spoken. Not until both their beverages were half drained and they were simultaneously calling for a second. Then she looked at him with those pleading blue eyes. Eyes that were tired, exhausted even. Sad yet determined to find answers. And of course the want was there that she admitted to three weeks back when he had her snuggled under his left arm her head on his chest at his apartment in his bed at four in the morning. They did nothing that night. She had come over with tears in her eyes and he had gingerly offered her a hug and a beer that she refused. Instead she had taken his hand and led him to his bedroom where in few words she begged him to hold her. He had just smiled gently and pulled her against his side; allowing her to curl up to her comfort.

He let her cry until she sobbed, then she sobbed until there was nothing left but shaky breaths and puffy eyes. She spoke and he listened, even as she began to ramble about things that didn't fit together or even make sense. It was when she had looked up at him that his heart gave in and his lips began to tremble. Her eyes were glassy like they were now. Her lips were plump and he had leaned down without really thinking. When she had kissed him back, the tip of her tongue grazing his lip making him shiver had him wishing they could do more. But he respected her, and he was supposed to be respecting her relationship. The one that was crumbling even though she hadn't confirmed it.

Now, as she stared at him with that same glint in her eyes from that night three weeks ago, he considered the consequences of kissing her here. His eyes darted subtly around them; they were the only ones minus the bar keep who had his back turned and really wouldn't tell a soul no matter what he saw. Just as he leaned down she tunred away to watch her nimble fingers tear the label off her beer.

"Why do you look at me like that?"

"Why do you try to kiss me?"

"Because I want to. And because you let me last time."

"Yeah."

"You want to say it was a mistake."

"If I did, I would. I don't know how to make it into a mistake. I want to make myself regret it but I can't."

"Why?"

"Why I can't?"

"No, why you want to."

"You tell me. You're supposed to be the honorable one."

"Because you feel like you cheated."

"I know I did. Using your values, that's exactly what I did. And, according to you, that's the worst kind of betrayal."

"I'd be a hypocrite if I tried to make an excuse for why it wasn't. You're not wrong."

"What am I supposed to do Booth?"

"You love him."

"Not sure."

"I can see that you do Bones. It's okay to be afraid of that."

"I'm only afraid of you Booth."

"Me?"

"Yeah. You terrify me."

"What? Why?"

"Because you're the only one that could really break my heart. The only one who could crush me and my hopes. That's why."

"Bones, I…I would never."

"You already are."

"What do you mean? I'm here every time you call. I'm always the one who drives. Look at me Bones. Now. Look me in the eyes."

When she did his breath hitched; there were tears in her eyes. But not the sad kind or the ones where she was just so damn angry at being exhausted. They were the kind that were lost of hope, the kind that were terrified of losing. Her lip was shaking and his thumb itched to soothe it but he refused. Instead he tilted her chin up slightly to meet her eyes more fully.

"I don't enjoy being your nightly secret. But I do it because I'll take anything at this point. Do you understand me? I'm adjusting my morals for you. I understand what we did was…wrong if you're being particular but I can't deny either that it was worth it. Sometimes the wrong thing is okay. I know you're gonna go home and fall asleep next to Sully, and when you wake up you'll tell him you love him and then go to work and he won't even suspect anything has changed. He has no clue either because you are too good at hiding it and don't want him to see, or because he just doesn't know you that well. But I do. I know you that well. And I know that you don't love him the way you want to love him. If this is what you want, where I'm you're secret in the night time then I suppose I'll take it. He can be your day time life and I'll just be you every other night time life."

She just stared at him then. Didn't blink, didn't really breathe; not a muscle moved in her body. She just watched him surveying what she was going to say to him, how she was going to react. He pleaded silently in his head for her to just close the distance and kiss him, hug him or even reach for his ahnd. A sign that would show that she understood at least a little bit of what he was saying. But she did nothing except grasp her beer and lift it to her lips. She had downed nearly half the bottle before she set it back on the bar top, and then she looked at him. This time, her eyes were clear. No dark clouds or uncertainty or hurt. No confusion masked her smooth porcelain features, no creases from a furrowed brow or tight lip line. Her small, carefully manicured hand reached for him before dropping down to his thigh where it squeezed the muscle there.

"You're right. You do know me that well. And that is what is scary Booth. I don't want you adjusting anything about yourself. Especially your morals. I know how important they are to you. I may not agree or even understand how they work, but they're yours and that's what matters to me. Again, you're right, I don't love Sully the way that I want to. I want to love the way you do, the way Angela and Hodgins love. But I don't know how. Maybe I was never taught, maybe I'm too afraid to learn or allow myself. I don't know. But I do know that I don't love him. Love is different to me. It's not your kind of love. And I hate that, because it means that we will never be able to have something. I could never love the way you do."

"And what way is that Bones?"

"I don't know. Without abandon. You take the person you love and you put them up on this pedastool and you cherish them as if they'd slip away at any moment. You're so attentive to the ones you love. I don't know how to do that. I don't know how to have faith because it can't be measured and my brain wants to measure it. It makes me mad when I try to do something the way you do it, because my brain battles with me the entire time. I want to love you Booth. I do, I just don't know how."

"Bones, I don't think anyone really knows how to love. That's the beauty of it. There's so many different ways to love. You do it in your own way and I enjoy it. Sure, it's frustrating at times, but it's you. And I love that. I…Bones I really do love you. And I'll take whatever you give me. Your nights, your days or both. I'm not going to force you to choose now or even later. You'll choose whenever you're ready, and I'll still be here when you do. So, feel free to call me in the middle of the night to cuddle, to kiss, to talk or cry. I'll answer."

TO BE CONTINUED…