A/N: This is my first fanfic in a while, so please be patient with me. Read summary for details. Also, for the sake of the story and because I couldn't find a definite age listing, we're going to say that Parker Booth is 8. All characters you recognize belong to Hart Hanson and Kathy Reichs, all other belong to me :)
Chapter 1: Skeletons in the Closet
Bones haunted the dreams of one Special Agent Seeley Booth. Dr. Temperance "Bones" Brennan to be exact. Images of her had plagued his dreams for the better part of seven years, but the past two had been the worst. He tossed and turned in his coach seat as the Boeing 747 sped ever closer to the home he had left behind two years ago.
"I'm the gambler. I believe in giving this a chance." He moved closer to her. "Look, I wanna give this a shot."
She looked at him, her big blue eyes wide with shock. "You mean us?" He nodded. "No. The FBI won't let us work together as a couple-"
He growled in helpless frustration. "Don't do that. That is no reason why we can't..." He cut himself off and kissed her. The same heat he had felt in their previous two kisses surged through him, growing exponentially the longer he felt her soft lips under his.
She kissed him back for a few tantalizingly brief moments and then placed her hands on his chest and pushes him away. " No. No."
"Why? Why?" The joy he had felt in the kiss quickly faded into confusion.
"You-you thought you were protecting me, but you're the one who needs protecting." She looked panicked and even more confused than he felt. He wasn't used to seeing Bones this emotional.
"Protecting from what?" Protection had always been part of his job description when it came to their relationship. He had almost failed her before, but he always came through in the end.
"From me! I –" She started to break down, painful sobs catching at her voice.
I don't have your kind of open heart."
Deep down, he knew she was wrong. " Just give it a chance... that's all I'm asking…"
She frantically shook her head, those silky strands he loved so much brushing her face furiously."No, you said it yourself; the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different outcome."
He really hated when she through his words back at him. "Well, then let's go for a different outcome here, alright? Let's just - hear me out, alright? You know when you talk to older couples who, you know, have been in love for 30 or 40 or 50 years, alright, it's always the guy who says 'I knew.' I knew. Right from the beginning." He had felt the connection between them from the second they met in that lecture hall. The more he knew about her, her quirks, her fears, her pain, he knew she was The One.
She gave him an adorably Squint-ish look through her panic. "Your evidence is anecdotal."
He pinned her with the look he always gave her when he was trying to get her to see passed the science and look at the humanity of a situation. " I'm that guy. Bones, I'm that guy. I know."
And she believed him. For 8 glorious hours, Temperance Brennan forgot to think and remembered how to feel. And boy had they felt. A lot. All of each other. In just about every way possible. But in the morning, when he woke up expecting her to be curled up next to him like he always dreamed she would be, she was sitting on the corner of the bed, fully dressed. Her face was pinched in a frown that spoke of regret and confusion.
"Bones? Baby, what's-"
She cut him off. "I- I am not a gambler; I'm a scientist. I can't change. I don't know how. I don't know how." And with that, she broke Booth's - and her own – heart. "Please don't look so sad."
"Alright. Okay. You're right. You're right."
"Can we still work together?" She reached for his hand, like a child reaching out for a parent's reassurance.
He had two choices. He could get angry and vent all of the frustration he was feeling and lose her. Or he could swallow his pain and keep her in his life. "Yeah."
She gave him a sad, grateful smile. "Thank you."
He felt his face shift into the remote expression he reserved for difficult situations. "But I gotta move on."
He had tried to move on. He really had. For three months he had tried. But it hurt too much to see her, to know what it felt like to be with her and not be able to do anything about it. A thousand times, he had caught himself before he brushed a kiss across her forehead or her lips or ran his fingers through her hair. It was torture to be so close to her and not to be with her now that he had his dream, even if it was just for a few hours.
When the order had come from Hacker that he was being sent out as a floating consultant agent, he hadn't fought it. It meant leaving his son and his brother and his grandfather, but it also meant a chance for peace. A chance to get over the bewitching Dr. Brennan. So he had packed his bags, sublet his apartment, and left D.C.
He had met Pops and Parker for holidays in whatever city he was in and he occasionally talked to Cam, but he had cut all other ties with his old life. Until last week, when Hacker's replacement had informed him that he was being reassigned to head the team of agents working in tandem with the Jeffersonian. He would be the primary liaison between Dr. Saroyan's team and the FBI. He had argued until he was blue in the face, trying to get his boss to change his mind, but it hadn't worked.
He was going home. Wasn't that just a kick in the pants?
A/N2: Please review! :) Working on Chapter 2 right now.