Disclaimer: Bones and all the characters therein are owned by FOX, Hart Hanson and Kathy Reichs. Thus, anything you recognize does not belong to me.

Chapter One

Yet another horrid murder had occurred in the Washington DC area and, once again, Booth and Brennan had shown the world what an excellent team they made by solving the crime and arresting the perpetrator within four days after the victim had been found in an abandoned warehouse. It was one of the few positive sides to their work and bestowed upon them some sense of satisfaction afterwards. Usually, after a case, the pair ended up at the Royal Diner, where they discussed the events over coffee and, in Booth's case, a nice piece of pie.

This evening was no different. They found themselves at their regular window table. Booth's choice of pie was apricot and he ate it while Brennan spoke of a case in which she had used a similar technique for shaping data from a temporal bone, known as geometric morphometric analysis. Typically, she narrated in such a way that Booth had trouble following her. He didn't understand most of the terminology she used, which was why a large part of the story went in one ear and out the other. He genuinely tried to grasp what she told him, and focus on his partner instead of on the delicious pastry in front of him, but his education simply didn't allow him to succeed. Sometimes he asked her to translate to English, other times he just let her talk and get it off her chest. She needed that, he knew that much.

"I will ask Angela if she can enter this technique into the Angelator. The data could be helpful in other cases as well," Brennan mentioned before finishing the last of her coffee. "It might save us some valuable time in the future."

Booth nodded. He didn't entirely understand the technical stuff, but saving time sounded good in his ears as it meant less work and thus more free time to spend with his son or to watch the NHL. "Sure."

"Has Caroline spoken with Richardson and his attorney yet?" she asked, referring to the man arrested for the murder.

"Speaking to the dickhead right now, actually," he replied with a slight grin.

"Even though I have to admit that I'd hoped it wasn't him, I'm glad we caught him. You know that, right?"

"I do."

"Because I know it was foolish of me to be hopeful that it…"

"Hey Bones," he interrupted her before she could finish that sentence. Resting his arms on the table, he leaned forward and looked her directly in the eyes, needing her to know he was serious about what he was going to say next. "There's nothing foolish about being hopeful."

She stared back at him with the same intensity. "But it serves no real purpose, Booth, the facts aren't going to change."

"That doesn't mean we can't still hope for it."

Uncertain about whether or not to agree with her partner—it was appealing, but her brain told her it was a ridiculous notion—Brennan left it in the middle and broke the stare, eyeing his empty plate instead. "Finished?"

The moment having passed, Booth reluctantly pulled himself away from her and leaned back into his chair. "Yeah."

He reached for his wallet, but Brennan had already slapped some dollar bills onto the table and grinned at him in victory.

"On me," she told him.

Booth couldn't do anything other than release a sigh. It was always like this between them, trying to one-up the other in whatever way possible. If it wasn't about who would pay for their meals, it was about who rang a bell first or who pushed the elevator button the quickest. It was a constant competition between them. Tonight, Brennan had won.

They left the diner and headed over to their cars, which were parked on the other side of the street. They reached Brennan's first as she was parked closest to the entrance of the establishment.

"You know, Bones, I'm sorry this had to happen to you again."

Brennan frowned, racking her brain about what he could possibly be talking about. "What happened to me? You mean, paying our bill? I wanted to."

"That the murderer had been in the foster system. I know it's hard on you. It's why you hoped it wasn't Richardson, but the other guy."

"Well, you see, that's why it was foolish to have my hopes up. It was him nonetheless. What I hoped for didn't alter that fact."

"That's true, but we usually hope for something before the facts are in. And you didn't hope it wasn't Richardson, you were hoping it wasn't a foster kid."

"Booth, he isn't a child anymore, he's an adult."

"That doesn't change the fact," Booth smiled, using her own words. "That he once was a foster kid. Like you."

Brennan sighed. "I don't like psychology, you know that."

"I just want you to know that it's okay to feel that way. You have your own experiences with the system and they weren't… good."

Just like she had done the last couple of days working on the case, she tried her hardest to repress the images that started to flood her mind. Images of the foster families she had stayed with, hopeful at first, then images of being given a garbage bag for her stuff when yet another family hadn't worked out, adding their name to the list on the bottom of her shoe, and images of being introduced to a class of kids at a new school, feeling lost and lonely among them. Repressing them was not an easy task, especially with Booth assuring her it was alright to feel this way about her own past and this case. To feel sad and disappointed; emotions she normally avoided.

To her own astonishment, a single tear managed to escape her eye and it slowly rolled down her cheek. Booth noticed and was quick to gently wipe it away with his thumb. The novelty of the action scared Brennan slightly, yet, at the same time, she felt tremendously cared for. To her, that was a strange sensation; one she had not experienced since her family had abandoned her over fifteen years ago. As much as she wanted to conceal the hurt from her partner, his compassion made her even more emotional. As if on cue, she shed another tear and Booth repeated the act, not breaking eye contact with her.

"It's okay," he told her softly, his heart once again breaking over her pain.

She shook her head. "This case just goes to show how damaging the foster system can be. His parents were killed before his own eyes, he ended up in the system and lived with seven families in three years before he was old enough to live on his own. He was a victim and ultimately became the offender."

"Offenders often have been victims themselves, but that doesn't mean that it's an excuse. Not a good one, anyway. And certainly not everyone ends up that way. I mean, look at you. You are…"

Brennan looked at him, wondering if he was going to finish that sentence and, more specifically, how.

"You are…" Booth repeated, stalling, as he was not sure how to phrase his feelings without revealing too much. "You have become an exceptional woman and I'm glad you're my partner."

"I'm glad you're mine," she replied sincerely, smiling at him.

He returned the smile, which slowly faded from his face as their eyes remained locked on each other. They didn't speak, just gazed. The moment was both comfortable, for it was familiar as they had found themselves in this situation many times before, and yet uncomfortable for they both felt the outcome was going to be different this time around as neither one had the desire to pull back.

Never breaking the stare, Booth leaned forward slightly. Then, fear suddenly beset his eyes and panic was aloft in his mind. Was he really going to kiss her? Was he really going to step over the line that he himself had drawn?

Apparently so.

He reached up with both hands and drew her lips to his own, giving her the gentlest kiss he could manage. Their lips moved slowly, explored slowly, the sensation almost hypnotizing.

When he pulled back, reluctantly ending the kiss, he was scared of her reaction to him having crossed the line. When he finally dared to open his eyes and look at her, he was relieved to find a small smile on her face. However, confusion was clearly etched in her eyes as well, mirrored by his own uncertainty, over what had just transpired between them. And why.

"I'll uhm…" Booth started, then cleared his throat. He hadn't imagined he'd feel so awkward after such an amazing kiss. "I'll call you tomorrow or stop by the Jeffersonian with the paperwork."

Brennan nodded quickly. "I will, too. I mean, if I'm done with it sooner than you, I will give you a call or come over to the FBI." She opened her bag and rummaged around for her keys. Having found them, she clicked the button to unlock her car. It wasn't until the sound of the beep had died down, that she looked back at Booth. "We'll speak tomorrow, then?"

"Yes," was the only thing he could say.

He longed to kiss her again, but she had stepped into her car already. She closed the door, buckled up, started the engine and drove off with a quick wave. He held up his hand, waving it slightly, before putting it back in his jeans pocket as he watched her disappear into the night.

I'd love to hear your thoughts; positve or negative, constructive criticism is very welcome!

Chapter two will be online shortly!