When Booth gets a letter that will change his life, how will it affect the relationship between him and Bones? When he leaves for Iraq, he leaves two things behind, a puppy and an unexpected surprise. How will Bones react, and more importantly, what will happen when he returns? BB

Disclaimer: I do not own Bones or any of these quotes.

Yes, I wrote another story! Woo! I kind of like this one, too. Please enjoy, and let me know what you think! This is around a seven chapter story.

Prologue: The Letter

War alone brings up to its highest tension all human energy and puts the stamp of nobility upon the peoples who have the courage to meet it.

-Benito Mussolini

The golden sunlight from the early November afternoon sun streamed in through the dirty windows, coming to rest on a white envelope which was perched across the keys of the black keyboard, almost like a beacon. But even with said beacon, Agent Seeley Booth, sighing as he walked into his office raking his hands through his short hair, still managed to miss it as he walked past his desk. But then, almost as if it called to him, he turned his head, stopping to scan the desk, his acute senses picking up on the fact that something was out of place.

And then he saw it, lying there, almost innocently. His eyebrows drawing together he reached over and picked it up, his fingers grazing the keys of the keyboard. He moved around his desk with the envelope, staring perplexed at the words printed neatly on its surface, and sat in his desk. His slid his thumbnail under the flap and slid it to the side, ripping the envelope apart cleanly, and pulled out a piece of paper.

His heart thudded heavily against his chest as his eyes scanned over the paper. His deep brown eyes darkened as he read - his lips pressing together and his eyebrows furrowing angrily. When he finished reading, he crumpled the paper up in his fist and screamed in aggravation. As much as he would have thanked God for letting the case go overtime so that it was past five and there was no one in the FBI building to have heard the scream and think someone was being murdered…he was a little pissed at the man upstairs for the moment.

XxX

No gains without pains.

-Benjamin Franklin

Booth hand's gripped the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles were white. His hands were cramping from the pressure, but he knew it was the only thing that was keeping him from snapping – especially on the road. His radio was blaring "Hot Blooded" so loud that he knew he was getting stares as he sped by.

But he never saw them, because his eyes were focused dead ahead on the road, his jaw was set. He needed to talk to someone, anyone, and he could feel that to the core of his bones. And that's why he was only mildly surprised at where he wound up moments later.

XxX

To bear each other's burdens, never to ask each other for anything inconstant with virtue and rectitude, and not only to serve and love but also to respect one another.

-Cierco

Dr. Temperance Brennan was in the middle of eating dinner when she heard the furious pounding on the door. Furrowing her eyebrows curiously, she stood up and made her way to the door, flexing her hands as she walked. She turned lock, and then twisted the knob, pulling the door open slowly, just in case she needed to slam it shut again. When she realized, however, who it was, she opened the door fully.

"Booth?" she asked, staring at the man who's eyes were blazing fiercely. For the first time, he scared her slightly.

He held up his fist, and she flinched back for a second, before she realized he was waving a white envelope at her. "They're sending me to Iraq," he said, his voice low and fierce. He swept past her into the apartment when she stood back, and she closed the door behind him. His voice raised as he continued, "Those rat bastards are sending me to Iraq," he hissed.

Temperance felt faint as her heart fluttered in her throat. She placed a hand against a nearby chair to steady herself. "When?" she asked, unable to believe the fact as her mind screamed at her No, no, no, no, this can't be happening!!

"The end of the month," he hissed as he paced across her floor. He stopped to pound his fist against a wall, leaning his forehead against it. "Damn, I should have known this would be coming!"

"How long….how long will you be," she swallowed hard, trying to figure out why she was having such a hard time speaking at the moment, "Away?"

"A year and a half," he said, sighing in defeat. He punched the undeserving wall again before moving to collapse on the couch, his head in his hands, his elbows on his knees. "Damn it…Christmas…Parker was going to spend his entire vacation with me…" He felt hot tears stinging his cheeks.

Temperance felt a string in her heart tug, and she moved over slowly to stand in front of Booth. He felt her presence and looked up into her eyes for comfort. "It will be okay," she murmured softly, reaching out to place her hand on his shoulder awkwardly.

"I don't know what to do, Bones," he said, and she saw how wide and child-like his eyes were. The next thing she knew, his head was buried into her stomach and his arms were snaked around her waist. She let out a small "oof" of surprise, and then she felt her hands move across his back in soothing motions. It was very, a distant corner of her mind noted, un-alpha-male-dominant of him.

Moments later, when he calmed down, he tugged on her hand so that she was sitting down beside him. She watched him with sorrowful eyes. He looked up at her shyly, embarrassed by his own outbursts. "Thanks, Bones," he said softly.

"I didn't," she began, but he cut her off.

"You listened," he said. He looked up so that his gaze was attached to hers, both of their eyes shimmering with emotion. Temperance felt her breath catch in her chest, and she noted that he had the expression of a deer caught in the headlights. She saw his chest rise and fall heavily, as he breathed deeply, and she felt her lips part slightly.

A few seconds later, he had leaned forward, taking her head in his hands, his lips crashing against hers. For a moment, she felt her body stiffen defensively, but then the warmth of his lips against hers made her relax, and she was about to deepen the kiss when he pulled away suddenly.

"I'm sorry Bones, I…I don't know, I don't want to…" he stammered, not meeting her gaze. When he stole a glance at her, she met his eyes with a determined gaze, and she reached forward, pulling his head down to her level, and their lips met again. He succumbed to her easily. Seconds later, she felt his hands make their way to her hips, just at the base of her tank top just as her hands were sliding down his back. His hands tightened, and once more, he pulled his lips from hers and rested his forehead against hers, panting heavily as she was.

"Bones are you sure…" he began, but she stopped him, pressing her fingers against his lips and gazing deep into his eyes.

"Very sure," she said, and he smiled, catching her hand and kissing her fingers, each one individually before moving back to her mouth.

XxX

The time is always ripe to do right.

-Martin Luther King Jr.

Later, they were found in bed together, Temperance on her side with her head resting on his shoulder, her one hand splayed across his bare chest, their legs intertwined with one another's. "So," she asked quietly, looking up at him. "What do we do now?"

He tilted his chin so that he could see her. "I don't know," he said, brushing a stray lock of hair away from her forehead. "I guess we…"

"Go back to being partners?" she finished for him, her face passive and emotionless, though her eyes suggested otherwise.

He nodded solemnly, and then he smiled suggestively. "But not until tomorrow," he said, and she grinned up at him as he rolled on his side to take her lips in his once more.

XxX

Its not what they take away from you that counts. It's what you do with what you have left. Never give up and never give in.

-Hubert H. Humphrey

No matter what they had said that night, there was no going back to "just partners" for the both of them. The next morning they allowed themselves to wake up slowly, taking their time to separate before they got out of bed. They ate breakfast together, her clad only in his large shirt, him only in his black pants, before starting their day. And even then, although on the surface they may have seemed just the same, anyone who knew them could pick up on the added touches and smiles that they gave to one another, and the wistful looks in their eyes. Everyone who knew them saw it, but no one said anything.

And the day he left, she was standing at the airport, trying to keep tears from streaming down her face. He knelt at her side to wrap his arms around his son, who was trying to seem brave for his brave father, but she could hear him sniffling as he buried his head into his shoulder. Then he had stood up, and she had thrown her arms around his neck. He kissed her on the forehead, and then she leaned back and kissed him on the mouth. Before they parted from each other's embrace, he leaned down and whispered in her ear, "I love you, Bones. I always have." And then he left, holding her hand as long as he could and he looked over his shoulder, smiling at her softly, amused at the stunned expression that graced her face. He hadn't expected an answer from her, but her eyes said it all. He lifted his hand in a final wave before turning and walking away.

He turned back one more time, only to see that, although she still had the shocked expression on her face and was staring at him, stunned, her hands were resting on Parker's shoulder's, and he hand reached up so that one of his hands was covering hers. He waved at his father, two streams of tears running down his cheeks. He smiled and waved back, blowing the pair of them a kiss before heading into the terminal.

"Booth, wait!" Temperance called, but it was too late, he hadn't heard her. He was gone. Temperance felt the tears rolling down her cheeks as she sobbed, and then Parker was hugging her fiercely around the waist – a little boy she barely knew, so much of his father in him. She knelt down and hugged him back, the pair of them seeking comfort from each other.

XxX

Like master, like dog.

-Saying

Later that night, as she sat in her home nursing a cup of hot chocolate, curled up on her couch staring at nothing, a knock sounded on her door and her head snapped up. When she opened it, she saw a teenage boy, holding out in front of him a box. He held it out to her, with instructions to treat it carefully, before walking away.

Curious, she closed the door, placing the box down on the floor and kneeling next to it. She opened it up, and saw two things. The first was an envelope taped to the inside of the box, the second was a young German Shepherd puppy, sitting in the corner of the box and regarding her with wise eyes, his head tilted to the side. Shocked, she took the envelope first, looking at the dog over it as she opened it, and then she slid out the paper on the inside.

Bones, it read

I'm not sure how much a fan you are of dogs, but I figured this guy could keep you company while I'm away. Think of him as a little piece of me.

Thinking of you always,

Love,

Seeley.

She felt a small trickle of tears run down her face as she reached in the box carefully, holding her hand out to the puppy. It yipped at her happily, and licked her hand, nuzzling its head against her palm. She laughed softly, thinking of how, in a way, he did remind her of Booth.

Reaching in with both hands, she scooped the puppy up, letting it rest in her lap as she stroked it. The dog crooned softly in a way that made it sound as if he were singing. And then, with a startling realization, she realized she had the perfect name.

"Singer," she said, and instantly the puppies ears perked up beneath her hand. She had found the right name. I love you too, Booth, she thought, the thoughts sending more tears down her face. In a heartbeat, Singer had his already large paws resting against her chest as he licked at her tears worriedly. Stay safe, Seeley, she thought, Stay safe for me.

So anyway, hope you enjoyed, and will stay on to find out more! So who recognized the Hot Blooded reference? The idea of Singer is from "The Guardian" by Nicholas Sparks.