Disclaimer in Chapter One.

Author's Note: Wow. Just wow. Your responses are amazing. I only hope that each new chapter of this story lives up to what you are hoping for. I'd also like to give a special shout-out to each reviewer who does not have a reply URL. Those of you who do, I am slowly working through responding. An extra special shout-out to those of you who have reviewed each chapter. I'm thinking of you when I write, planning each word and hoping it's as good as you are hoping for. :-)

Author's Playlist: I had quite a bit of inspiration in this chapter. I started out with Bon Iver's Creature Fear. Any of you Chuck fans out there will recognize this amazing piece. However, as our favorite characters finally started to talk, I transitioned to Chris Stills' When The Pain Dies Down.

CHAPTER FIVE: Beginnings

There is nothing like a dream to create the future. – Victor Hugo

"Dr. Brennan, it's a real pleasure to meet you. We've all heard great things about your abilities from Agent Booth." A smiling face was suddenly thrust between her face and her view of Booth, and she frowned slightly at the interruption. A hand was extended for her to shake and she took it firmly. "I'm Agent Jimmy Burns. We're very happy to have you here."

"I'm happy to be here." She said it loudly and firmly, looking over his shoulder at Booth's face, seeing his smile widen marginally as he registered her words before he turned to finish his conversation with the petite, dark-haired women standing in front of him, who looked irritated at his lack of concentration on her words. A tiny frisson of delight skittered through her at the idea that he had been distracted from his job by the very sight of her. The urge to walk up to him was overwhelming, but Agent Burns was already talking about the case and two skeletons lay in the ground before her, which she had to admit took slight precedence for the moment over her immediate need to speak to the man she had flown here to see. These murdered individuals did not care that she had not laid eyes on him in 75 days.

She crouched down next to the hole in the ground, latex gloves snapping on and her favorite boots sinking unfortunately into the mud. The familiar role of scientist took over, a soothing distraction from the emotional rollercoaster she had been on lately, and her mind automatically began to categorize and evaluate what her eyes observed. "One female and one male victim."

"That's similar to the first two bodies we found. They were also lying in a similar shallow grave, arms and legs entwined." Burns crouched down on the opposite side of the makeshift grave, across from her. She briefly touched the skull, the spinal column, and the pelvis of the skeleton closest to her, cataloguing the regular bone markers that were second nature to her now. Every skeleton had a story to tell her, and this one was no different.

"The male is on the left, approximately mid-30s. The female appears to be the same age and based on the shape of her pelvis, she's given birth at some point. I'll need to get them to a laboratory before I can give you anything more accurate than that on identity. I'm surprised at the complete deterioration of organic tissue – that would suggest they have been out here at least 4-5 years." She looked into the shallow hole. "How deep would you say they were buried? I'm surprised that wild animals didn't get to them immediately following their burial."

"The hole is only about three feet deep, definitely not deep enough to keep out any real predators that smelled fresh meat, even carrion."

"We think wild animals may have gotten to the bodies that we found yesterday because there were several bones missing, but I'm not convinced, since the skeleton is too intact to suggest they made any real headway at digging into them." His voice behind her was velvet and her spine stiffened automatically, a slight pink flush rushing to her cheeks involuntarily. Blue eyes shifted up to meet brown and the same small, secret smile played at both of their mouths.

"Where have the first two skeletons been moved to?" She stood up, snapping the latex off inside out and dropping it into the pocket of her blue suede blazer. Six months ago he told her that the blue suede was one of his favorite pieces of her clothing, so she had worn it again, this time with purpose.

"Nora Pembry, CSU." The dark-haired woman Booth had been speaking to earlier stepped forward with her hand extended. "It's a pleasure to meet you. The bodies have been moved to the lab we maintain at the building. We have a medical examiner on call at all times and he and I have been collaborating on attempting to identify the bodies. Neither he nor I have extensive experience with bodies completely devoid of flesh, and we appreciate you coming up to assist."

"I'm impressed with your ability to recognize your own limitations. In my experience, many people are unwilling to ask for help when it's needed." Pembry's mouth quirked into an odd smirk at her, and Brennan wondered if the compliment she had intended to just pass did not come across quite as planned. Normally Booth would step in if that was the case, but he didn't speak so she was fairly certain she had not said anything too rude.

"I will need extensive samples of the area around the bodies, both the first set discovered and this set to send back to the Jeffersonian for testing." She made eye contact with Booth again. "Agent Aarons told me that you already collected samples for the first set of bodies and took them to the lab."

"We did. They are already packaged and ready to be shipped immediately. I have an agent on standby to carry them all to DC on the evening flight." He pointed to the left and her head turned, eyes following where his fingers led. "The first two bodies were found over here. Agent Burns' and his crew were walking the grid around the site when someone stumbled over what appeared to be a stick poking out of the ground. Turned out to be a rib. Follow me."

He was walking with authority, coat flapping out behind him, as Pembry and Brennan followed quickly, Burns bringing up the rear. The first hole was similar to the one she had just looked at, approximately three feet deep, but now devoid of the bodies that were originally discovered in it. Too much time had passed for the local vegetation or the makeshift grave itself to tell them anything, and she hoped that the information from the samples and the bones themselves would tell the story.

Booth's cell phone suddenly rang and he excused himself to take the call. Brennan realized as she watched him that Booth had changed since his move to Philadelphia. He had always moved with confidence and charisma, but now his natural leadership abilities were shining through. FBI agents and local police officers around him looked for guidance that he effortlessly provided – thoughts and words moving quickly and efficiently.

"Unfortunately, we didn't get much from the graves themselves. We're hoping the bodies are a bit more talkative." Pembry and Burns let out simultaneous sighs and then looked at each other in an odd moment of shared professional humor.

Booth returned, sliding his phone into his jacket pocket. "I'm sorry, but I've got a meeting with the Secret Service in 30 minutes that I can't miss." He gestured to Burns. "Agent Burns here will get you whatever you need and I'll see you back at the office."

He was already turning to go, but she followed him for a few moments and the gentle touch of her fingertips on his back stopped him. She had begun to believe that Angela was right, that he was so attuned to her he knew when she was around even when she didn't speak. He did not appear surprised when he turned to face her.

"Booth, I—" Her voice stuck in her throat momentarily and she tried frantically to clear it.

"I know." His lips quirked into a half-smile and he glanced uncomfortably at the agents watching them from only a few feet away with what she was sure was intense interest. She realized that this was not the time or location to confront him about his departure or her feelings. He did look her in the eyes, though, and while his expression was guarded, his happiness at her presence seemed genuine. "It's good to see you."

He turned and departed the scene with no additional pomp and circumstance and she reminded herself that it would take time for the two of them to work out where they stood with each other after so much time apart. She remembered Angela's last words of wisdom before she had departed the lab only a few hours before. He's going to be trying to protect himself by acting as if everything is just fine. He's not going to be expecting you to be the one to confront the emotional issues, so don't be surprised if he doesn't know how to react at first. Don't give up!

She looked back at Pembry and Burns, who were diligently attempting to avoid eye contact and to look at everything but her, and sighed. She headed back toward the makeshift grave and mentally reorganized what she wanted to say to Booth.

"Peri-mortem fractures and minute lacerations on the phalanges and metacarpals indicate the second female victim was possibly tortured or fought with an attacker, resulting in serious defensive wounds."

"Interesting." Cam's face was thoughtful in the computer screen to Brennan's left. "Do those same wounds manifest on all four bodies?"

"No, only the second woman. Based on age markers in the bones and the level of degradation, I assess she was buried for approximately a year longer than the woman who was discovered first."

Cam's lips pursed in thought. "Maybe she was the first victim and the killer didn't realize she would fight so much. He may have sedated the next victims to make it easier."

"Unless Hodgins is able to identify any possible sedatives in the samples I sent, that's only speculation." Brennan set down the small bone she was holding, carefully sliding it into place on the table, completing the skeleton. "Have you received the samples yet?"

"Agent Hamilton delivered them about 30 minutes ago. Hodgins was practically giddy, but Angela forced him to leave for the night since it was 9 PM." Cam's smile was wry, but her own eyes were fatigued at the late hour. "We'll dive right in early tomorrow morning. You've also had a long day and should get some rest."

Brennan's shoulders tensed slightly at the realization that it was now 9:30 PM and she had yet to have the opportunity to speak with Booth in private, the real and true reason she had come here. "I'll do that. Have a good night."

"Good night." Cam's face disappeared and the laptop desktop shone blue before Brennan carefully shut the lid.

The door to the laboratory swung open quietly behind her and she wondered who was still in the building at almost 10 PM before the tingle on the back of her neck returned. Suddenly, all of the determination and conviction that had gotten her through the last 14 hours threatened to leave her and flee out of the room along with her courage and possibly the contents of her immediately queasy stomach. She took a deep breath and felt tangible pleasure, inhaling the familiar scent of his spicy cologne and that unique scent that was all him, and turned around to see him leaning against the wall, arms folded across his chest.

"Hello." Her voice was a shy whisper he was unaccustomed to hearing from her.

"Hello." Everything about him screamed out exhaustion, and she was again reminded that Booth was no longer just dealing with what could be a serial murderer. He was also leading dozens of other younger agents, and probably monitoring multiple ongoing cases at the same time. The responsibility for all of those people and cases rested on his shoulders, something she knew he would feel keenly and take seriously. She felt a swell of pride for him rush through her.

"You look tired." She searched for a nicer way to say that and settled for the truth. He had told her that he liked that about her, and he looked even worse than he had hours ago at the crime scene. She wondered momentarily if better sleeping habits would be a positive addition to her outline for reasons why he should return to Washington.

"I am tired." He smiled wearily at her, but his arms remained folded in a defensive move, his posture stiff even as he tried to look nonchalant leaning against the cold tile wall. His eyes dipped to the floor. "It's good to see you."

"You said that already." She stepped forward minutely as he smiled minutely at her comment. "It's good to see you too, Booth."

Impulsively, she stepped toward him completely, surprised and momentarily saddened when he seemed to lean slightly away from her before moving into his previous position. Her hand tentatively reached up to rest on his forearm, her fingers remembering the feel of him instantly, slightly tensing to feel the corded muscle under his suit jacket and shirt. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too." His lips pursed and his brow furrowed and she wondered why he was getting that familiar frustrated and confused look he had worn so many times in the last few months prior to his departure. "Why didn't you answer the e-mails I sent you when I first arrived?"

She had anticipated this question in the last few weeks, and even in the months previous as she went back and forth trying to decide what to do with the words that he sent her. She struggled to explain everything she had been thinking and her confusion over her own emotions – that undeniable rage she had fought back and tamped down time and time again.

"I didn't know what to say to you, because I couldn't understand what I was feeling. You told me," she paused as he subconsciously cringed away from the reminder of his confession to her that cold night, "you told me what you….told me….and then you left. You said we could be friends and then I find out I am the last person you tell you are leaving, barely two weeks before you go."

She pursed her lips tightly at the remembered pain at the thought that he had put it off for so long. "I was hurt and angry and......confused. How could you tell me that and then brush me off like someone you barely knew? Especially after……after what you said."

His eyes were genuinely surprised and widened at her. "I never wanted to brush you off. I just didn't know how to talk to you anymore. I thought everything I said to you was a reminder of that night like it was to me, and I…..I thought I was doing the right thing, letting us both move on. I thought I was doing what you wanted."

"You leaving was never what I wanted!" Her voice raised and echoed through the tiled room before she remembered that she was supposed to be having a constructive conversation and not yelling at him. "What I wanted was for everything to go back to the way it was before that night. I wanted our friendship to be the same and for you to not look so sad. Instead…..Instead, you left me and you asked me to be happy about it."

"I know." He sighed deeply and unwound one hand from his arms to rest upon hers, his large warm fingers radiating an electric spark into her skin and she reveled in it. "The real reason I waited so long to tell you was because I knew that's what it would seem like. I kept praying the right words would come to me to tell you, but they never came. And suddenly, I was out of time and I still didn't know what to say."

"You hurt me." She had to tell him that, had to clear the air.

"You hurt me." He smiled sadly at her. "I was hurting pretty bad and that was the reason for a lot of my behavior then. But, that's no justification for me hurting you back. I am sorry for that – I hope you know that."

"I do know." She clenched her eyes tightly, gathering up all the courage within her and pressed forward.

She wanted to convey everything she was feeling, but all the words she had prepared on the plane stuck in her throat were unable to exit verbally. Her left hand reached up to softly cup his cheek lightly, her fingertips sliding across his cheekbone, the stubble rough against her palm. His eyes lifted, astonished, to look at her, the exhausted brown lightening a fraction. His deep breath shuddered in and expelled violently as his arms unfolded and then surged around her, his hands digging into her flesh as he held her so tightly against him, no light or air could peek between. She gripped him as tightly, willing him to understand what she was thinking, what she was feeling, how she missed him.

His lips breathed against her ear, the word she had been so desperate to hear for months and which he had been deliberately avoiding using since her arrival earlier today.

"Bones." His breath was hot against her skin, the emotion in his voice tangible even to her.

She shuddered as the memories of 75 days swept through her, all of the pain and agony and heartache and confusion and then the final realization of why she felt those emotions. With that word, in his voice, against her ear, she felt reborn and renewed, as if the terrible three months before were slowly chipping away, falling to the ground in a pile around their bodies twisted together. She had missed his hugs. Her body collapsed fully against his, allowing him to hold her up with the strength that she had come to rely on for so long and had missed so greatly when he was gone.

"Booth." Her voice was wet with unshed tears and his arms tightened a fraction more, almost to the point of pain. She welcomed it and gripped him tighter in response. Every labored breath in his tight arms was a reminder that he was back in her life. His breath was warm against her neck and in her hair and she reveled in the feel of his torso against hers, his legs mingling with hers as they tried to merge into one person. When he finally began to lean back away from her, arms loosening, she felt a pang of regret run through her momentarily at the loss of his touch and suddenly found the courage to speak. "Booth, I have to tell you—"

"It's late, Bones, and we're surrounded by dead bodies." His smile this time was a little less sad and a little more genuinely happy. "I do want to hear everything you want to tell me, but not here."

"They won't mind if we talk." She was gratified at his smile and chuckle at her attempt to be funny.

"But I will. And right now I don't think I would be much of a conversationalist. I'm running on barely three hours sleep in the last 48 hours." He sighed and rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands before revealing eyes that were more bloodshot than was healthy. "Let's get you to your hotel and me to my apartment and we'll find some time to talk tomorrow. You about ready to go?"

She hesitated before realizing that she would prefer to speak with him when he didn't look as if he were about to pass out from exhaustion. This was a good first step. Already, that smile he had given her had changed from the sad, small shadow of his former smile and was a little more reminiscent of old Booth.

"Yes." She tucked the voice recorder into the top drawer of the desk by the door and picked up her lab case, sealing it shut. Her lab coat was on the wall hook and her purse on her shoulder in moments. She trusted that when he said they would talk tomorrow, they would. "I'm ready."

"Great, let's get some sleep." He held the swinging door open for her, and she stepped underneath his arm, pausing for a millisecond in her movement out the door to once more inhale the warm, earthy smell of Booth before moving forward. She was not sure, but she hoped it had been minute enough of a moment that he had not noticed. He led her to the curb by the building and hailed a cab.

Suddenly second-guessing herself she turned to face him again, her eyes frantic and her hand latched onto his bicep again. "Tomorrow, you promise, we'll talk?"

"Absolutely." He smiled a real, broad smile for the first time since she had arrived. "If you're up for it, I'll grab breakfast and swing by your room at about 7:30? Do you still like those bagels with everything on them?"

"Even the tofu sprinkles." It was on old joke. Not a very good one, but it reminded her of the Sunday morning they spent several years before at a café eating bagels – his plain with lox and cream cheese, and her everything bagel with sundried tomato cream cheese. He had teased her and asked why other ridiculous items weren't on the bagel if it was labeled "everything." He laughed slightly at her remembrance of that time and their mutual joke. The cab slid to the curb and Booth was already opening the door. "Goodnight, Booth."

She was half-way into the cab when his hand reached out suddenly and latched around her upper arm, holding her outside of the cab. Her head turned toward his in surprise, only to freeze and her eyes to close as his head leaned forward and soft, warm lips settled on the left corner of her mouth, barely touching the corner of her own lips that were parted in surprise and anticipation. Her stomach clenched in shock and swirled in aroused anticipation at the thought of him doing that again.

He pulled back to search her eyes, and she wondered if she looked as rattled as she felt.

"You will always be special to me, Bones. You always have been and you always will be. I will never, ever brush you off again." He was looking at her intently and she heard her breath catch in her throat. "Sleep well and I'll see you in the morning."

When he shut the door and the cab departed, she turned in her seat to watch him stand at the curb. He raised his hand for moment and smiled – a smile she had not seen on his face since before that terrible night when she had hidden behind her own fears. She felt good, as if this was a positive first step and tomorrow would be the next step. She watched him until the cab turned the corner and that smile was no longer visible.