Author's Note: Chapter title from Shontelle's song T-shirt.

"Dr. Brennan?" Daisy asked, watching as Brennan shuffled her paperwork into a tidy pile, signifying the end of her workday.

"Yes, Ms. Wick?"

"Do you ever miss Agent Booth?"

Not as startled by the question as she might otherwise be, given that Ms. Wick and Sweets had made up and Ms. Wick had been heaving sighs and staring mournfully into the sunset, Brennan responded easily.

"Of course."

"I don't mean missing him like missing bubble baths and sheets without sand in them, I mean missing him so much it is painful."

"In that spot in your chest, like it's emptier than it should be? Or the way you turn to tell him something interesting or exciting or to share a joke or to ask an opinion and you notice the spot next to you, his spot, is empty and it feels like your heart is being crushed?"

"Exactly," Daisy replied, he eyes shining with tears.

"Of course," Brennan repeated.

The two women sat in companionable silence for a moment, letting their heartache fade a little, the burden lighter for having been shared.

"I have this little teddy bear from Lance. He won it for me at a carnival on one of our first dates. I know it's juvenile, but I keep it on my cot," Daisy admitted.

"I sleep in one of Booth's t-shirts," Brennan confessed, feeling uncharacteristically talkative. "He left it at my apartment and I never gave it back."

They smiled a little sheepishly at each other. Day slid into evening and they remained in their makeshift office, talking of the dig, their work, and their men.

When darkness fell and Brennan changed into her pajamas she smoothed her hand over the faded lettering on the shirt and smiled a little foolishly. Comfort. It was no guy-hug, but it was comfort nonetheless.

Five months and 22 days, she thought to herself.