He stands in front of the full length mirror. Slightly cocking his head to the left, he takes his black bow tie in his hands and adjusts it until it's perfect. He opens the jacket to his tuxedo and smooths out his shirt, making sure no wrinkles are visible. He buttons the jacket back up and smooths out the creases in it. He runs his hands down the sides of his pants, making sure they're straight, and to wipe the little bit of sweat that has collected on his palms. He stands a little taller and holds his head a little higher.
"I look older," he muses to himself. He doesn't even know how he got here. It's seems like it's all been a whirlwind of events leading up to this day. He can't place where the change happened, or even why it happened. The lack of details didn't make his head feel any better. He just wondered if he should say something. What do you do when you know for a fact that your best friend is making the biggest mistake of their lives?
"Booth, is that tapping really necessary?" Bones was snapped from her reverie of staring at the passing trees as they drove toward the Hoover building.
"You know I hate going to Sweets' office, all he does is push my buttons," Booth took the curve a little sharper than he meant to. Just bringing up the twelve-year-old's name made him more on edge than usual. He really did start to like the kid, until he came back from Afghanistan. With a girlfriend. Now all bets were off.
"Maybe I should drive, Booth." She knew that was the wrong thing to say. His hands tighten around the steering wheel. She looked out the window, hoping that showed her surender.
He glanced over to her while swerving through traffic, a retort just short of his vocal chords. He noticed her looking out the window and decided to let it be. He wasn't mad at her. He knew she was just trying to help. He needed to conserve his negative energy for Sweets.
The rest of the drive was in silence. Booth even stopped drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. He knew he had to compose himself before he got to the office. He took the little time he had left on the drive to do so. He unclenched his fingers from the steering wheel, leaving a loose grip. He took a few deep breaths and managed to get some of the red away from his cheeks. He snuck a peek at his partner. He could tell by the look on her face she was in deep thought. He wished he could know what that thought was. He knew he didn't deserve to know. He can't remember the last time he preempted a thought of hers. They were still in sync but so out of sync he was unsure of how they still managed. He missed her. He knew that much, but he knew it wasn't fair to Hannah. He spent all of his time during work with Bones, Hannah had to come in somewhere. Usually that meant separate celebrating after completing a case. And that usually meant Booth going home to Hannah and Bones sitting at her desk doing the paperwork they were supposed to complete together or working on her book. That's not the way it was supposed to go, but that's the way it had to be. He took the last turn and pulled into the parking lot of the Hoover. He drove into his parking spot and parked the SUV. Before he could even open his door, Bones was waiting at the front of the truck.
"It's going to be a long day," Booth muttered. He started walking and fell into step with his partner. Before he even realized he did it, he place his right hand on the small of her back and guided her toward their destination. He took note, but left it where it was. It felt safe and normal, none of which felt wrong.