Love is not Enough (Inspired by Ella)

Alright, I've been reading Ella's story [Only admins are allowed to see this link] and after reading the bit where Drew dies and Booth breaks his lunch date with Brennan to console Rebecca, well given the thin ice their on anyway, I sort of see that as a pivotal moment in their relationship. Things could get better, probably will get much worse. I chose to explore what would happen when it got worse. IMO Booth has his limits. Here's what happens when he's reached his.



A/N: This scene takes place six months after Rebecca calls Booth to tell him of Drew’s death in the plane crash. It is also six months from the day that Brennan requested a new FBI Liaison to replace him, and the pair broke up because Brennan believed Booth was cheating on her.

The clipping felt tissue soft in her hands, pliant from being folded and unfolded countless times since she’d cut it out of the newspaper six months ago. The print was smudged, the type practically illegible, the surface creased and lined and worn. Still she could read every word as clearly as the first time. The staccato report of high heeled boots was warning enough but she didn’t care. Angela would dig it out of her anyway, and she was just too tired to fight it anymore.

“Hey Bren.” Brennan didn’t reply, simply folded the clipping carefully and tucked it back into it’s envelope. Rolling her eyes Angela reached forward and snatched the envelope from Brennan’s hands before her friend could put it back in her center drawer.

“Angela!”

“Bren, you can’t keep obsessing about this. It’s not healthy, and reading about the plane crash isn’t going to change anything.” Dropping the envelope back on her desk, she put a friendly hand on Brennan’s shoulder and squeezed gently. “He’ll come around Bren, he will. Booth loves you.”

“You don’t know that Ange. You can’t know that.”

“I can and I do. Look sweetie, this is Booth. You know, Seeley breaking the laws of physics, father of your daughter, moved back from New York just to be with you Booth?” Angela patted her shoulder encouragingly. “You know he loves you Bren, you just need to give him time and before you can say Hello Studly he’ll be on the phone…”

“He called earlier.”

“Booth called? Really? And?”

“He’s returning to the Jeffersonian as Liaison.” Her voice was flat, almost emotionless. Only Angela could tell how much she was hurting inside.

“Wow. That’s good news though, right? I mean he comes back as Liaison and that means you two are partners again. Trust me sweetie, you two being partners again is a good thing. I mean it’s got to mean something that he asked to come back.”

“He didn’t ask, he was assigned. It appears the FBI is incapable of finding anyone else with his qualifications willing to take the position of Liaison on a permanent basis, so Deputy Director Traynor decided that Booth would be resuming the post until a permanent replacement can be found.”

“Bren…”

“Don’t start Angela. This is all my fault. He never lied to me, never. Not once in the five years we were partners, not once during our relationship, not once since the birth of Abbey. Booth may have his faults, he’s made his share of mistakes, but he never, ever gave me a reason to doubt his honesty.” Turning to face her friend for the first time, Angela stifled a gasp when she saw Brennan’s red rimmed eyes, puffy from crying. “So why did I? Why Angela? Why, when all I had to do was ask, all I had to do was listen, why did I assume he was lying?”

“Honey, after the way that girl came on to him in that bar…”

“I know, I know, but how is it his fault that she found him attractive? He’s an exceptional man in so many ways Angela, any woman would be lucky to have him…I had him and I let him go.”

“No, you didn’t let him go Bren. It was a fight, a stupid misunderstanding. First that slut hit on him, then he ditches a lunch date with you for Rebecca, how were you supposed to know he was only consoling her?”

“Because he told me Angela, he told me that’s all it was. He told me about Drew dying and I didn’t believe him. I called him a lying bastard. I threw him out of the lab and I demanded the FBI reassign him or I’d resign.” Brennan bit back a sob “Him or me, Angela. That was the choice I gave them and they chose me.”

“Bren, sweetie…”

“And you know what? They made a mistake, they should have chosen Booth. I should have chosen Booth.” Brennan scrubbed at her face, wiping away the tears collecting on her cheeks with the backs of her hands. “I was wrong Ange, I didn’t let him go. I ran him off. I made him want to leave me after Abbey was born, and I chased him away when Drew died.”

“Oh honey, he didn’t want to leave you. Leaving you was the hardest thing Booth ever did, and this time was no different.” Angela pulled her in for a hug. “Bren sweetie, he still loves you. You can’t be this pissed off at someone for this long and not love them.”

“He doesn’t love me Angela, and he’s not upset with me anymore.” Brennan pushed away from Angela, sniffling. “He was very calm on the phone today, very polite. He simply said that we would be working together again and he hoped that we could maintain a civil relationship at work since we’d be partners once more, and, and he wanted to know if it would be okay to bring Abbey and Parker by to see me since they were both excited about our working together again.”

Angela gave Brennan a bemused look, “But honey, how does that mean he doesn’t love you? He’s trying to be nice, he wants you guys to be partners again, he’s bringing the kids by to see you. Aren’t those all good things?”

“I…I could hear her talking to him in the background.” Angela saw the crestfallen look on Brennan’s face and the fresh tears tracing their way down her ruddy cheeks. Her breathing was ragged, her voice choked with emotion. “They’re getting married Angela. Booth and Rebecca are getting married.”



A/N: Right, well I'm going to add another scene or two. I'll have one when Booth comes in and meets Brennan again, and maybe another one after they've started working their first case together. They'll be short, 1K words or less probably (practically drabbles for me, lol) but there was just something about the way Ella had them on the verge of really breaking up in her story that inspired me to write this. Oh, and I have to appologize to Sherry - I got behind on work today and then I did this instead of finish either of the two chapters I was going to send you to Beta, so Wednesday is the golden day. Sorry.

RM

AWW! OMG! Thank you! I am soo glad my writing has inspired this! Now I'm going to feel like I'll have to live up to it!

P.S. Do you mind if I keep the Deputy Director Traynor?

First Ella made me sob over her story , and now you made me cry over yours.

aww, I did? I didn't mean to make you cry!!! :O

RGPageantqueen wrote:P.S. Do you mind if I keep the Deputy Director Traynor?

Nope, feel free. And thank you, btw, since it was your story that inspired me!

RM

RGPageantqueen wrote:aww, I did? I didn't mean to make you cry!!! :O

Yeeeees, you diiiiid... *sob* [Only admins are allowed to see this image]
And Robert... his story is even more depressing... [Only admins are allowed to see this image]... aaaaa! [Only admins are allowed to see this image]

mereva wrote:First Ella made me sob over her story , and now you made me cry over yours.

I'm sorry, honest I am, its the angst monkey - I've written so much fluff lately that the angst monkey threatened to start flinging feces if I didn't give it an out. Don't worry though, it'll get better at some point. I mean it can hardly get worse can it...unless I add character death to the mix. Hmmm.


RM

Aw. Well I won't have Rebecca and Booth get married... But you never know what could happen. I've had somethings even worse pop in my head. But i think Rob would kill me.

RGPageantqueen wrote:Aw. Well I won't have Rebecca and Booth get married... But you never know what could happen. I've had somethings even worse pop in my head. But i think Rob would kill me.

There are only a few things worse and while I could never bring myself to harm a single hair on that sweet little head of yours my dear, dear Ella, I'm not above emotional black mail. Hey, we're a community where women out number men like, 50 to 1, as they say "when in Rome", or in this case, when in Jimmy Choos.


RM

Aww, that is so sad. And angst-filled. But perfectly understandable. It's a rocky road ahead...

THX1138 wrote:... I mean it can hardly get worse can it...unless I add character death to the mix. Hmmm.
RM

What?! [Only admins are allowed to see this image]

mereva wrote:

THX1138 wrote:... I mean it can hardly get worse can it...unless I add character death to the mix. Hmmm.
RM

What?! [Only admins are allowed to see this image]

Oh dear!!!

I like! You write well..for a guy and all

howie wrote:I like! You write well..for a guy and all

Thanks, I think?


RM

It is a compliment...It's very hard to find men who are able to write fanfics that are readable. Though I have not had the time to check any out lately, but am glad yours was the first I chose.

w00t! I guessed as much and I thank you for the compliment. I think it's all about writing for your audience, and I guess it's a good thing I don't post the stories I have that are geared toward men. Those are pretty formulaic; car chase, shoot out, and graphic sex followed by a really big explosion. I don't even make up new stories for them anymore, just use the replace function in word and change the names around.

RM

A/N: Booth's return to the lab to renew old acquaintances and settle a few scores.



Booth stood motionless, absorbing the feel of the space into his skin, into his very bones. Exhaling he released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, and as he inhaled the smells of the lab - astringent and chemical, floral and organic - brought a rush of memories, both good and bad, back to him. It had been six months since he’d stepped foot in the Jeffersonian and God save him he’d missed the place. Hell, if he was going to be honest he missed her. Missing her was easy, it was being around her that would kill him. It was all the worse because he still couldn’t bring himself to forgive her, not yet. Booth knew he should, there were a dozen reasons to do so, but first and foremost it was past time to let it go. Besides he owed it to Abbey and Parker to forgive her. As long as they were fighting the kids were the victims, and he hated to think that he was doing to Abbey what Rebecca did with Parker.

Pushing everything else out of his mind Booth focused on the task before him. Brennan wasn’t the only one who could compartmentalize. Hell, he’d kept the fact that he was head over heels in love with her tucked away in the closet for four years, this should be easy. All he had to do was focus on the one thing that kept him away for the last six months – his anger. She didn’t trust him, she didn’t believe him, she didn’t love him. Twelve little words that were his mantra for the day. ‘Focus Seeley’ His inner self chided. ‘Focus on what she did to us, how she made us feel, and you can do this.’

He made his way along the back wall of the lab, his stride even and measured, his shoulders squared, looking every bit the arrogant Special Agent he’d been eight and a half years ago when he first walked into the Jeffersonian. Booth could feel the eyes upon him, out of the corner of his eye he could see Brennan standing on the platform, holding court as was her custom, her team of squints listening attentively until he passed by. A weaker man might have flinched, a lesser man might have run, Booth merely refocused his anger and walked past the whispering, gawking, crowd of squints and found his way to Cam’s office.

“Seeley. I heard you were coming in today. What can I do for you?”

“What? That's it Camille? No, 'Seeley it's so good to see you again!' or even a 'To what do I owe this pleasure?' Camille?”

“Look Seeley, we both know why you're here, and we both know putting you and Dr Brennan together again isn’t going to be conducive to anything remotely resembling pleasure…unless you’ve a masochistic streak I didn’t know about? No? Right. Didn't think so.”

Booth paced the length of her office without saying a word. Cam watched him closely, her eyes following his every move. Finally he came around to her desk, and with practiced aplomb he sat down right at the edge. Cam’s breath caught in her throat at the dangerous smile he showed her, the feral glint in his eyes making it anything but charming. 'Damn' She shuddered. 'When he wants to be he can charm anyone, but I forgot how down right scary he can be too.'

“What’s this really about Booth? Why even bother coming in here to see me, after all this was your idea wasn’t it? Get you back on as Liaison, force her to deal with you, force her to take you back?” Cam pushed back from her desk, standing abruptly she crossed her arms and began pacing herself. “God knows what this will do to Brennan. She’s been on edge ever since you two broke up.”

“Yeah, well it’s just been a barrel of laughs for me.” Cam stopped at the tone of Booth’s words, cold anger putting an edge in them. “Look, I didn’t ask for this and it wasn’t part of some grand plan to get back together with Brennan. All I'm asking from you is that you not interfere Cam, do your job and let me do mine. The fact is that she’s become so difficult to work with that no other experienced field agent in DC will have her. I’m only here as a stop-gap measure. Traynor wants me to feel out the situation, and when I think things are stable enough I’ll start training my replacement.”

“You’re replacement?”

Booth and Cam turned as one to see Brennan standing in the doorway to Cam’s office. Outwardly she was the same calm, collected and clinical Brennan she’d always been. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, her make-up was simple and understated, her clothing functional and comfortable, but Booth could tell she was in pain. Deep rings around her eyes told him how little sleep she was getting, and as she stepped into the room Booth barely stifled a grunt of surprise. She’d lost weight, her wrists were thinner, and the body that never carrying an ounce of spare fat to begin with had gone from svelte to skinny and was bordering on bony.

“So you’re presence here is merely temporary Booth? You won’t be staying on as my partner after all?”

“No, Doctor Brennan.” He watched as the three words hit her, her body seemed to twitch as if they were physical blows, each one harder than the last, and he barely stopped himself from trying to comfort her. He bit the inside of his cheek to regain focus before continuing. “Director Traynor believes that both the Jeffersonian and the FBI would be best served if an agent were trained specifically to deal with the Medico-Legal lab and it’s personnel. Since I’m the most experienced agent and had the longest tenure as Liaison, he’s appointed me to oversee the training and installation of the new agent.”

“And when you’re done Agent Booth? What then?” His lips formed a tight smile as she called him ‘Agent Booth’.

“Where ever the FBI sends me Dr Brennan.” Unable to continue being so cruel Booth relented. “You know this is stupid. When I called earlier I said we should be able to maintain a civil working relationship. I mean we worked together before, and in the past we always got on rather well. Please, call me Booth.”

“Alright…Booth. What will you call me?” He saw the faintest glimmer of hope at the edge of her eyes, but he wasn’t ready yet. He doubted if he ever would be.

“I was thinking Brennan. We can just stick with last names for now, less formal but still professional, and easier to work with that those clunky old titles, right?”

“Yes. Of course.” Brennan tried to school her disappointment at not being called ‘Bones’, but failed utterly. Cam excused herself while the two partners stared at one another. Finally Brennan broke the speech embargo. “You said earlier you’d go where the FBI sends you. You weren’t planning on leaving DC again were you? I, I was thinking that would make it difficult, the visitation I mean.”

“No, no I’m not planning on leaving DC anytime soon. Traynor wouldn’t let me go anyway, I pretty much shot my wad with him when I transferred on short notice back in April.” Brennan shifted uncomfortably at the not so subtle reminder of how he’d uprooted his life and that of their daughter just for a chance at building one with her, and how that had failed miserably for both of them. “You know I also gave up my position as Special Agent in charge of DC Major Crimes when I left for New York, and though there’s nothing in writing, Traynor has promised me my old job back. Seems the DC MCU really went to seed in my absence.”

Brennan shook her head ruefully, a sad smile playing on her lips. “I can see one thing hasn’t changed in all this time Booth, I still feel as if I need an interpreter to understand you sometimes.”

“Ahh, sorry about that. I should have guessed your pop-culture skills would atrophy in my absence.” Booth’s cheeks reddened somewhat as he struggled with what to say. “Shooting one’s wad is, um, a sexual reference relating too…”

“I understood that one Booth” Brennan rolled her eyes and chuckling quietly. Happy that some things never changed. “It’s the term ‘gone to seed’ I don’t get. What does germination have to do with anything?”

Laughing, Booth walked over and took Brennan by the elbow, leading her out of Cam’s office as he explained that phrase and the two began debating the efficacy of metaphorical speech versus literalism. Their discussion had become somewhat animated when the reached the upper level lounge, and a familiar voice rang out.

“Wow! Now that’s something I haven’t head in forever, the two of you bickering again. It’s just like old times. ” Angela came up to them giving Booth a hug. Both women noticed him stiffen on contact. Angela stepped back to see a stern faced Booth looking at her. He stepped away from the women and nodded subtly to Brennan.

“Brennan, if you don’t mind I think I need to talk to Ms Montenegro alone for a few minutes?”

“Sure Booth. When you get back I can show you some of the changes to the lab, a lot can happen in three and a half years.” Her forced smile fooled no one, but Booth returned it nonetheless.

“That’d be great.” Booth stepped aside and motioned for Angela to accompany him. “Walk with me, Ms Montenegro?”

The two walked the catwalk above the lab in stony silence. Angela a half step ahead of Booth, his hand on her elbow guiding her. They continued until they reached a secluded alcove in the corner of the building. Turning them Booth led her to the railing. From that vantage point the whole of the lab could be seen, and in the distance Brennan was clearly visible dictating to some interns. The stood like that for several minutes until finally Angela spoke.

“Booth? What’s going on? And what’s up with the Ms Montenegro thing anyway?” He stood stoically, not responding. “Booth you’re scaring me. Speak to me, please?”

Booth’s hands gripped the railing until his knuckles were bloodless white and Angela was sure she heard the railing give a little. “Here’s the deal Montenegro, I’m back here to do a job, period. I am not here to get back with Brennan, and I’m sure as hell not here to help you fulfill some deep-seated need to play Yenta for the two of us.” He turned to face her and Angela felt the air rush out of her lungs, the look of anger on his face, the almost venomous animosity directed at her nearly bowled her over. “And while we’re on the subject, stay the hell out of my life, got it? The next time you think you see something going on between me and someone else, forget you saw it. We’ll all be happier.”

“Oh Booth, I’m so sorry about that.” Angela put her hand on his arm but pulled it back when she felt him tense from the contact. “Seriously, if I’d known what was going on I never would have said…”

“Yeah, I got that Angela, but you did say and that was the last straw wasn’t it? Brennan and I went from almost making up to her calling me a lying bastard and kicking me out of the lab.” Booth grumbled. “

“Look, I’m sorry about all that. God Booth you don’t know how sorry I am, the hurt and pain I cause you two, my best friends? There’s not a day goes by I don’t kick myself for telling her about you and Rebecca, but I saw her there that day working when I thought she was supposed to be with you and it just came out…” Booth glared, silencing her.

“That’s the problem isn’t it Angela? You just say whatever you’re thinking and damn the consequences. You want to know how I got past those walls of hers? Patience and foresight. You don’t rush someone like Brennan, and you don’t say anything of consequence without thinking it through first. You’ve known her almost five years longer than I have, and you’d think you would get that by now.” Booth shook his head sadly. “You know Angela, what really hurt me was that no one, not even my father, ever accused me of lying or being disloyal, and Brennan never would have thought that of me if it weren’t for you.”

“I’m so sorry Booth…” A strangled sob interrupted the crying artist, and she hiccoughed miserably. “I-I-I didn’t want to h-hurt anyone it just c-c-came out of my m-m-mouth before I knew what I was even s-s-saying.”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it anymore, what’s done is done.” Booth’s expression softened as he held out a handkerchief for her. Angela took it gratefully, dabbing at her tear stained cheeks. “Just do me a favor and don’t interfere anymore. If this is going to work out, if Brennan and I are going to be partners again, we need to do it without you or anyone else pushing us. Okay?”

Angela nodded and continued to wipe away the tears as Booth turned to leave. He stopped just a few steps away and turning back gave her a long, hard, appraising look. “Angela, I don’t want you to misunderstand me, this settles nothing between us. Whatever friendship I felt for you before is done now. I’ll be polite, civil, and amiable. In time, if things work out, we might even try starting over as friends, but we are not good, not by a long shot. Are we clear on that?”

Angela covered her mouth in a vain attempt to catch the sob that was intent on breaking free, tears poured from her eyes anew as she nodded mutely at Booth, signifying that she understood. She watched him walk away then, without even a backward glance, and she thought about all the times Brennan had talked about him, his strength, his will, his temper. Booth was the strongest man she knew, once he made up his mind no one, not even Temperance Brennan, could dissuade him, and if you made him your enemy you had an enemy for life. That’s when it hit her. That’s when she felt it. Seeley Booth was a good man, an honest man, an honorable man. Angela had many friends but he was one of her closest, one of her best. Booth was the man she could trust her best friends’ heart to, he was someone she could depend on, someone she thought she knew, and now he was gone. That’s when it hit her, her heart was breaking. That’s when she felt it, Brennan’s pain. That’s when she knew they would never be okay again.



A/N: Next up, Abbey and Parker come to visit, and someone Brennan isn't suspecting tags along to have a chat.


RM

You have a way with the angst, that's all I have to say. I hate reading stories like this, damn it! Angst this wrenching should be poorly written and filled with bad grammar so I have a reason to back out of it! And you have neither and I want to know what happens! *pounds fist on the table in frustration*

As much as I want to try and be actually upset at the way Booth is treating Brennan as well as Angela, I know he has a perfectly valid point. He's angry and he has every right to be. Angst yes, but well written which isn't exactly something to come by easily. Great job again!

THX1138 wrote:w00t! I guessed as much and I thank you for the compliment. I think it's all about writing for your audience, and I guess it's a good thing I don't post the stories I have that are geared toward men. Those are pretty formulaic; car chase, shoot out, and graphic sex followed by a really big explosion. I don't even make up new stories for them anymore, just use the replace function in word and change the names around.

RM

I actually enjoy those as well. As long as a story is well written and holds my interest past the first chapter I am good. I have a wide range of interests, but my real love is the crime novel...car chases and shootouts are great. Steamy sex is just a bonus. I guess it comes from spending 4yrs being taught by cops and lawyers.

My all time favorite fic is Servare Vitas...written by a man. If you have not read it, you should. That said..I shall now read your next chapter.

Another good one...like how you addressed Angela's meddling and the downfalls that go along with that sort of thing. Though they really need to end up together...hint, hint. However, I am realistic enough to know that true love doesn't always win, even in the world of fiction. I look forward to your next chapter...

Ooh! Booth is determined to stay focused on this point. Definitely a survival mechanism. I love Cam's realization of scary Booth. And Ange's realization of Brennan's pain.

Waiting for Ch. 3! Soon?

A/N: Plot point, in my version of events I've fiddled about a bit. Booth never got to work with Brennan when he came back from New York. His first day back on the job with her was the whole Rebecca lunch fiasco that resulted in his being banned from the lab. So from this point forward it's been just over 3 years and 6 months since Booth worked in the Lab and a lot has changed in that time.



The tour of the lab had taken longer than he thought it would and he’d been forced to reschedule his lunch plans with Traynor. Now Booth found himself in familiar territory, sitting in the lounge and drinking coffee with Brennan as they discussed the changes since he last worked with the Jeffersonian’s team. And it wasn’t just new equipment. At some point in time Brennan and Cam had decided to re-organize the entire lab. Outside of her exam tables on the platform, nothing was where he remembered it being, and there were more interns than he'd ever seen before. It seemed like everyone had one, even Angela. That presented its own set of problems, since working with the old crew was going to be challenging enough, but working with a new batch of squints as well was a little intimidating, even for Booth. He was grateful for the one familiar face in Brennan’s assistant, Wendell Bray. Wendell and Jack were really the only people to openly welcome him back. Cam glowered at him whenever they crossed paths, Angela managed to stay out of his way entirely, and the interns treated him as if he was just another arrogant FBI agent, giving him little notice and less respect.

Then there was Brennan. He wasn't sure what to make of her today. She'd been civil, cordial even, and had endured his attempts at humor as well as he could expect, but she'd also been uncharacteristically clingy. Brennan followed him everywhere, lingering just out of earshot when he visited with the guys, falling in to step with him afterward as he headed to the men's room, and on his tour of the lab she'd repeatedly bumped his shoulder or reached out to touch his arm. Despite his best efforts to maintain his focus on the strictly professional he found himself falling back into the old routine and a number of times he just caught himself before he'd said Bones. Still the Brennan was right, a lot had changed in the last three and a half years, and the briefing he’d gotten from Traynor and the previous Liaison hadn’t prepared him for just how much.

It was after two when they finished up, and they were still chatting. The conversation had remained light, with Booth doing his best to focus almost entirely on professional topics but smiling when Brennan would inevitably turn their conversation back to some old case of theirs. She wasn't particularly subtle, and he could see her intent on trying to make it like old times, but he was resolute. There would be no going back for them, he wasn't sure he'd survive if there was.

“It’s a lot to take in, isn’t it?” Brennan indicated the three inch thick binder in his hands.

“Well there are a lot of changes. Evidence protocol is certainly more comprehensive than when we last worked together, and I guess it makes sense mostly…I-I just don’t get some of these changes though.”

“Really? Which ones?” Brennan leaned in closer, watching closely as Booth's fingers skimmed over the pages.

“Well, okay, like the new stipulation that requires the entire scene laid out in a standard grid pattern, each grid photographed, and the scene itself filmed from every available angle. That seems a bit excessive. I mean, the grid pattern, okay, yeah that’s standard for determining the scene and collecting trace evidence, that sort of thing, but photographing each individual grid? And filming I get, we can run the films through the Angelator and produce a three dimensional scene in greater detail that way, but we used to use contrasting angles only and never really had an issue before, why require all angles when that seems to be a waste of time?” He turned to face her then, suddenly aware of how close they were sitting and cursing her persistence.

“We had to.” Brennan says plainly, ignoring Booth’s discomfort at her proximity. “Once you’d gone to New York the agents that replaced you were more difficult to work with. They didn’t understand our protocols, the reasons why we did things, and none of them took the time or made the effort to learn. Most of the time we’d arrive in time to take over and resample everything, but sometimes the crime scene would be compromised beyond our ability to salvage. The effect of which meant our results were less reliable and the FBI’s closure rate, and subsequently the US Attorney’s conviction rates, were effected in due course.”

Booth stared at her slack jawed, all concerns about Brennan’s attempts to get closer to him were forgotten in that moment of realization. All along he’d known that some blame for the problem had to lay with the FBI, but this was beyond his worst expectations. Obviously as his replacements came and went they’d abused the team he’d left them until there was no trust left between the two organizations, and predictably the victims suffered. It didn’t take him long to figure out what happened. Cases were lost and the prosecutors blamed the FBI, the FBI blamed the squints, and the squints took it because no one wanted to listen to them. Of course Brennan, with her reputation for being difficult and her clinical demeanor in dealing with strangers, would be identified as the root of the problem. She’d be an easy target, a convenient scapegoat for them all, he knew that. Suddenly the anger he'd used to stay focused on acting with professional detachment was instead being directed at the people who had failed her.

“Mother fuckers.” He shot up off the couch and began pacing. “Mother fucking sons of bitches.” His voice was a low growl, but growing louder as he continued to pace and curse. Brennan just stared, not knowing what to do or what she’d done to upset him.

“Booth? You’re upset, please tell me what’s wrong.”

Booth He continued to pace, and curse, his jaw clenching in that peculiar fashion that indicated he was angry, only fed Brennan’s sense of melancholy. She’d pushed the boundaries of propriety all day and now feared that her attempts to ameliorate the tension between them had somehow only upset him more. She was afraid that this meant things would never get better between them. Reaching out for him again, her fingers shakily grabbed at his wrist as he walked past.

“Booth, if I’ve said or done anything to upset you I…I’m sorry.”

Her touch sent a shock through his system and he instinctively jerked away from her hand. Brennan gasped as he recoiled from her touch. His rejection hurt her more than she cared to admit, but she knew that if she didn’t get away from him then she’d lose what little control over her emotions she had left. Backing away from him, she angled toward the stairs leading down to the lab and began rambling in retreat.

“I, I’d better be going. I promised Angela I’d have lunch with her today and I think I lost track of time discussing the changes in the lab with you. I apologize again for saying or doing anything to offend you Booth, but I’d really like for us to work out this time as partners, I feel it would be most beneficial…”

She’d nearly made the top of the stairs when he grabbed her from behind, his hands felt so hot on her arms that she swore his prints would be burned into her skin. She flushed as he stepped in behind her, his voice a hoarse whisper that stopped her pointless rambling.

“Stop it. Please Bones, just…stop.” She felt herself tuned around, but still imprisoned by his hands. His eyes softened and for the first time in six months he looked at her with compassion, and when he spoke his voice was gravelly, but certain. “Look, I’m not upset with you okay? I’m not. It’s these lazy arrogant pricks that the FBI has been sending over, that’s who I’m upset with. No, that’s not right. I’m not upset, I’m fucking pissed off. What they’ve done to you, to our team. I’m sorry Bones. I, I can’t say it any plainer than that. I’m sorry.”

He called her Bones. Not once, but twice. He called her Bones and she doesn’t know why. Only Seeley Booth can do this to her. Only he can make her feel so wonderful and confused and afraid at the same time. Six months, three years, it doesn’t matter how long they’re apart, the effect he has on her, the control he can exert on her emotions, it terrifies her. But for now it’s a joy to feel this familiar fear. All she wants to know now is “Why?”

Booth looked at the woman held roughly before him, the look on her face was one he’d seen only in the dark times, the discovery of her Mother’s remains, the confrontation with McVicker, her father abandoning her the second time, the trial, and that night six months ago when he’d handed her the clipping about the plane crash. It was a look of distress and confusion, it was the look of a little lost girl and it pained him to know that he’d put it there. He was no better than anyone else who’d hurt her, and even if she’d hurt him six months ago that didn’t make it right. He wouldn’t be the one to hurt her anymore.

“Because the didn’t send me here to just fix the Bureau’s agent problem Bones, they sent me over here to fix the Bureau’s problems, period.” Booth let his hands travel up her arms until they rested gently on her shoulders, and he stepped in to close the distance between them. “The real reason I’m here isn’t to train my replacement, it’s to train yours.”



A/N: Hmmm, yes I know I promised to bring Abbey and Parker into the mix this chapter, but I started writing and the story changed as I wrote. I’m an organic writer, I build the characters, give them a plot and a push and then write what happens as they stumble about and these two stumbled in a very different direction. Heck, even I didn’t know Booth was going there to find her replacement! Who knew?!

Addendum: I had originally thought this would run four, maybe five chapters. Suddenly I'm seeing it go at least six or seven because we've got at least two chapters of Abbey/Parker goodness to squeeze in before the Angst monkey slips his leash again. I just hope I remember to unload the revolver that's kept near his cage. Angst monkey's with loaded guns have been known to kill characters. It's not me, it's the monkey.


RM