The Best Kind of Lie

Disclaimer: I don't own Brennan and Booth…sad, but true.

Author's Note: So this is my take on the giant spoiler for the season finale…and the potential aftermath- which I don't think necessarily has to be bad. The title of this story will not make sense until after the next installment. I had no intention of posting anything else so soon, but this one came to me and I had to write it down!! I'll try to work on Chapter 2 relatively quickly if feedback is good! Hope you enjoy this one! And bonus points if you can guess the song referenced in this chapter.

Chapter One: To End One Journey and Begin Another

I answer my door to find Booth standing in the hallway with an expectant smile on his face. Although I have not been anticipating his arrival, I am not surprised to see him there- his presence is so familiar to me now that it is never an intrusion. I feel myself smile in return, happy to see him for no rational reason that I could describe. The last few weeks had been difficult and being with my partner always makes me feel more confident in my ability to get through things. It is something I cannot explain and try not to think about too much since I get uncomfortable with experiences that I do not really understand. Stepping aside, I usher Booth into my apartment and smile again as the smells of takeout from our favourite Thai restaurant drift into the apartment with him.

"I come bearing gifts Bones," his tone is typically jovial.

"I know- it's the only reason I let you in," I joke back, enjoying my growing ability to enter into this lighthearted banter with him. He grins at me and makes his way into the kitchen. I follow along behind him and watch as he gathers plates and cutlery from my cabinets- wondering if I should be amused or alarmed that he knows where to find everything.

"A little help here Bones?" Booth raises his eyebrows to indicate that I should carry the dishes into the living room while he grabs the food containers. It is a routine we have fallen into so easily that I have never even really questioned it. I already know my role in this unfolding of events. Soon, we will be arguing about whether to watch a documentary or a hockey game- and eventually I will let him win just to see the unrestrained joy he takes in explaining sports to me. Really, we both win. As I follow him towards the couch, I am already smiling.

After carefully distributing the food between our plates, Booth reclines back into the cushions and is, as usual, stealing bites of my favourite dishes which he claims not to like. It is all part of the same scene we play out so often and I indulgently glare at him because I know my cues. His look of feigned innocence is not new to me either, but I still find it endearing and cannot help but admit that his eyes are magnetic to me when they soften with that gentle teasing glow. Once we are done eating, I gather up the remains of our feast and head into the kitchen to dispose of everything. When I return to the living room, I expect to see Booth flipping through channels on the television but he surprises me. Instead of staring at the screen, he is standing in front of the stereo and has obviously pressed play on the random CD changer. I stop in the doorway, suddenly unsure of how to proceed now that the convention has been altered. I listen to the words of the song drifting past my ears and recognize it immediately. It is a song that often reminds me of Booth when I hear it- the powerful melody from a band introduced to me by a Canadian friend from grad school.

Booth turns to see me standing in the doorway and tilts his head to one side as if to ask me what I am doing. I find myself strangely nervous as I take another step into the room- I am not good at adjusting to changes in my patterns. He must sense my uncertainty because he sends me a patented charm smile and flings himself back on the couch.

"I thought maybe we could just spend some time talking tonight Bones," his voice is light as if to deliberately reassure me that there is nothing sinister in his decision to play music instead of fight about television. "I just wanted some background noise- I hope you don't mind."

"No, of course not," I feel safe enough now to return to my spot beside him.

"I've never heard of this band- but the guy has a great voice," he is making small talk now to further ease my anxiety. For a moment, I am transported back to a memory from earlier in our friendship. Sitting in the diner after my father helped me save him, singing the lyrics from an old Poco song together. The recollection of his willingness to sing along still brings forth a rush of affection for him. I was amazed that he knew the song, but I should not have been- we seem to know things about each other instinctively as if life has been quietly leading us towards each other all along.

"This song reminds me of you for some reason," I don't know why I just admitted that, but it was out of my mouth before I could stop myself.

"Really? I didn't really catch all the words…something about having my back to the wall and let myself fall. Is that what reminds you of me?" He is still kidding around.

"It's not just the words themselves, but more the feeling behind the song and the emotion in the voice, I guess," it is a struggle to explain myself. Non-scientific reactions are never easy for me to summarize in words.

Booth listens intently for a moment and when the chorus begins, I see something change in his face. I wonder if he is thinking about the particular words "Why I ran away from you lover" and considering the idea that this song reminds me of him. The music is filling the room around us and when the final notes begin to fade, he is still watching me. I stand up and turn the volume down on the stereo so the music is not such a presence in the room. I know there are other songs in this selection of discs that will cause me to pause awkwardly if he notices them. Sometimes the music we listen to, like the words we write, exposes more about us than we are comfortable revealing. I settle myself on the couch again and smile towards him, hoping to break the slightly peculiar feeling in the room.

"So," I begin, "is there something specific you wanted to talk about?"

"Well, I just this week has been busy and difficult. I figured we needed to take a few minutes to catch up with each other." I think I know what he wants to talk about, despite his not indicating anything specific. Earlier this week I entered the SUV to find him on the phone, engaged in a very serious conversation with someone. I let me mind drift back to recall the side of the dialogue that I had overheard.

He lifted his hand in greeting as I hopped into the passenger seat, but was clearly distracted by whatever was being said to him from the other end of the phone line.

"Yes sir, I know that." I had assumed that he was talking to someone at the FBI when he used the formality, but something about his tone was not right. Usually when he spoke to one of his professional supervisors there was an undercurrent of hostility to his voice. His reply to this person sounded less derogatory and more timid- very unlike him.

"No sir, it was not my fault. I tried to help him but the navy is not interested in suggestions from his FBI agent brother." There was a pause in the conversation as Booth listened. Then he spoke again, with a sigh of resignation. "Yes, of course I can try something else. I know I should not have let him get into trouble. I'll figure something out, sir."

As Booth hung up from the call, I had my suspicions about who he had been talking to, but I remained silent. He had not offered up any explanation, merely tossed the phone into the back seat and gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles were white. He had taken several deep breaths before he finally turned to look at me. Whatever he had been feeling was quickly camouflaged by a smile, and he pulled out of the parking space while briefing me on the scene we were headed out to examine.

I blinked my eyes to clear the memory and realized that I had not responded to his request to talk.

"That sounds good Booth." My head nods as I speak. There is no immediate reply and I sit with him in a companionable quietness. I will wait for him to say what he needs to say. At last, he shifts so that his back is against the arm of the couch and we are face to face.

"My dad called me this week." So, I was right in my speculations about who was on the phone that day. "He wanted to know what I was doing to help Jared since it was me who got him into trouble in the first place."

I open my mouth to protest, but Booth shakes his head, "No, don't even start- it was not your fault. You asked Jared for help and he decided to give it to you."

"But it isn't your fault either Booth!! I cannot believe that your father could even try to blame you for this! Doesn't he know what was going on? Does he understand that we had to save you?"

"He knows…but he has a knack of finding a way to blame me for most things that happen to Jared. It's just how it is." Booth gives a rueful smile.

"Well, it shouldn't be that way. He's your father- he should love you and be proud of you. He should also be glad you're alive considering the circumstances!" I feel my chest tighten with anger towards Booth father.

"It's okay Bones, I'm used to it. Ever since we were kids, my dad expected me to protect Jared and I just knew that was the deal. When my dad would drink, I'd make sure Jared was safe in our room and then I'd take the heat you know, so I guess it just became a pattern." Booth's voice is suddenly sad at the memory of a childhood scarred by alcoholism and anger. "Nothing I did was ever good enough and it still isn't. My father taught me that nobody just accepts you as you are- there are always expectations and we always disappoint each other."

I find myself reaching across the space between us and taking his hand in mine. My heart has clenched with the unfairness of this- that this wonderful man would think less of himself because of someone else's drunken ramblings and twisted perspective. It hurts me to see him doubt himself.

"I accept you as you are Booth and you have never disappointed me," my voice is soft and serious- I want him to know I am being truthful with him.

"That is why you are so incredibly special to me," he does not hesitate with his answer. His fingers tighten around mine and I feel something change between us in that instant. We have made a confession of sorts to each other and the honesty of the moment has caught us both off guard. I find myself unable to stop my fingers from intertwining with his and he glances down to watch our hands lace inside each other.

When he looks back up at me, I see something in his eyes that I have seen before, but always try to ignore- a shifting of colour and shadow that reveals more about his feelings for me than words ever could. Most often, I turn away when he looks at me like that, but for some reason I can't do that this time. I realize that I am not afraid. Inexplicably I feel like I have reached the end of a journey and am now at a destination that I was always seeking but did not know the name of. This is the place- he is the place. There is barely any distance between us now and I can see a question in his eyes. He looks carefully, searching my face for a reflection back of the same emotion and I am sure he finds it. In response I angle my chin up towards him, allowing my lips to part slightly, and my fingers caress his collarbone and wander up his neck to rest on his cheek. Booth's eyes close and he turns his head to place a moist kiss on the palm of my hand. I let out a breathe I was not even aware that I have been holding and lean slightly forward towards him. I feel his hand slide up my thigh to rest against my hip and I hear the murmur of approval that escapes my throat when his thumb brushes across the bare skin above my waistband.

When Booth returns his gaze to me, his eyes have become even darker and as he leans towards me, I find I cannot look anywhere but into their depths. Finally as his lips brush against mine, my lids drop closed allowing my body to focus on the sensations of a soft kiss. It is not exactly as I would have imagined it, and it is definitely not like any other kiss I've ever had. I feel like our lips are merely a physical manifestation of a bond that runs so deeply between us that this moment was inevitable. There is so much being exchanged in this meeting of our lips that it is indescribable.

After a moment, Booth pulls away from me and rests his forehead against mine. I can see that he is as deeply affected by this moment as I am. Already I miss the warmth of his mouth and am eager to reinitiate the connection, but the words he says with his next breath stop me in mid motion.

"Temperance, I need you," Booth voice is full of undisguised yearning and the force of his words stuns me. He wants to make sure I know that this is more than a physical reaction to hormones and proximity. This is an expression of something so pure that there will be no hiding from it after the fact. I realize that our breathing has become heavy and the space between us is hot with the expelled air. He knows as I do that if we take one more step, there will be no going back- our relationship will be forever changed. My next words will seal our fate and I look into his eyes when I reply so he knows that I do not harbour any doubt about the path I am choosing for both of us.

"And I need you." The words are barely out of my mouth before his lips descend on me again. His kiss is still gentle, but I can feel the passion behind it and know that we are about to tumble over the edge into an unexplored and explosive abyss. As I pull him closer and increase the friction between us, I feel myself falling backwards into the cushions of the couch. When his lips slide down my throat and his tongue darts out to taste my skin, I lose all sense of gravity and time. There is nothing but this and I would not turn back now if I could- this is what I want and I allow myself to become lost in him.