It had been a particularly grueling case. Not that most of their cases were happy, fluffy things, but this one had taken its toll on both partners. The victim had been a child- which was never easy- and the killer, her father, had molested the victim and her younger sister. The man had had the unmitigated gall not only to kill his own daughter when she refused his advances, but then toss her out with his household garbage as if she meant nothing to him. On top of that they had to take the girl's younger sister away from her father and place her into foster care.

"Did we do the correct thing?" she asked Booth as he sat down heavily in the driver's seat beside her.

"What do you mean?" he asked, starting the car and aiming back toward the city.

Brennan sighed, "I simply wonder if that girl will be any better off now than she was at home?"

Closing her eyes and resting her head on the back of the passenger's seat of Booth's SUV, Brennan could still hear the little girl's screams as Child Services came to collect her. The child had fought desperately against the CS agents, begging to stay with her father.

"Of course she will," Booth said vehemently, "She'd be better off anywhere than with that pervert."

"And therein lies the problem with love," she replied.

Booth kept silent, knowing that she would expound on that when she was ready.

"That father," she said finally, "truly believed that he was demonstrating 'love' to his children. The older daughter obviously thought that this was perverse, but the younger one did not. She opened herself to accepting his form of love and in return, we have removed her from a stable, loving environment, and placed her in a system that will more than likely leave her feeling lost and alone."

"What that man showed was not love," Booth insisted, "And one day his kid is going to realize that and be thankful that we pulled her out of there."

"Would you have wished to be taken from your home environment as a child?" she countered, "I'm sure that despite your father's abuse you still felt an emotional attachment to him."

"He was okay when he was sober," Booth gritted his teeth and clenched the wheel a little tighter, "But yeah, some days, Bones, I wished that someone would come and bust me and Jared out of there."

"I didn't want my parents to leave," she told him.

"I know, Bones," he shot back.

"Opening oneself up to love only leaves one vulnerable to whatever methods the other person chooses to express that love," her tone was firm.

"You're afraid," he told her.

"No."

"Yes," he gave her a sidelong look, "You are, Bones, but sometimes you just have to put yourself out there and embrace the risk."

"And what risks have you taken, Booth?" she was angry now, arms folded, jaw set, "For all of your noble talk of 'opening up' and 'embracing risks' you are one of the most tight-lipped, private people I have ever known!"

Booth was stunned into silence so she went on, "How many times have you almost forced me to share my personal feelings, and yet you refuse to reciprocate? You try and 'change' me but are resistant to change in yourself?

"All I know about your past comes from the three-word sentence you spoke in the bus shelter and the brief anecdote that I had to practically drag out of you in Sweets' office, even though I had just shared one of my most frightening childhood experiences."

"What did you want?" it was Booth's turn to grow angry now, "Did you want me to break down and tell all right there in front of the kid? Maybe cry or start a group hug? Would that've been enough for you?"

"We're partners," she said, "If we can't trust each other with private information both ways than what do we have?"

"Maybe nothing," he spat, stopping the SUV a little faster than necessary as he stopped in front of her building.

"Perhaps," her voice was calm and even now, "And perhaps it would be best for us to temporarily cease our partnership until such a time as we can ascertain what our trust level is."

"Are- are you breaking us up, Bones?" there was a tremor in his voice as she slipped out of the car.

Without saying a word, she looked at him sadly, gave a half nod, then closed the door and walked toward her building.