Hi everyone! Here's a new one-shot I came up with a few nights ago. It's different than what I usually do. Usually my forte is humor, this time I tried for more drama/angsty-ness... I suppose. I don't know if it's any good, so that's where you all come in. If you could let me know, it would be greatly appriciated. )

I know it's been done so many times, but here's my little take on what could've happened after the bathroom scene in "Pain in the Heart." Although in this version it's not really a bathroom scene so much as Brennan yelling a few words at Booth and then storming out. But you'll see.

Also, I suppose it's rated M for language... if even. Mild "M" I guess.

Explanations

"I think you owe me an explanation, Bones!" Booth shouted, chasing her out of his front door, pulling a shirt on over his wet torso and checking to make sure he had, indeed, remembered to put on his sweatpants.

"Oh, I owe you an explanation?!" Brennan spat, incredulously. "I'm not the one who jumped in front of a bullet and got rushed to the hospital. I'm not the one who was announced dead. I'm not the one who rose from the supposed-to-be Dead at his own funeral, and then acted like everything was completely normal!"

She was panting, face flushed, fists clenched at her sides. Booth was at a loss for words as he stared at his partner. Never before had he seen her so furious. However, mixed in with that utter fury, something else was in her eyes; something he couldn't place. Booth had apparently stood quiet for too long, because she turned and stormed off down the side walk.

Booth, confused, took off after her. "Hey! Hey, Bones! What the hell are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" she snarled. "I'm going home."

"You-" Booth hopped in front of her and jogged backwards so he could face her, "-you walked here? From your apartment?"

"Yes."

Booth gaped at her. "You walked all the way to my house at nine at night, barge into my bathroom and call me a 'fucking asshole,' then walk back out to go home?"

"You left out the part when I threw your car keys at your head, but yes, you got the gist," said Brennan, sarcastically. "Stop running backwards before you trip and crack your skull open; that was I won't have to waste my time going to your real funeral."

He stopped and watched her walk across the street to the grassy park. Exasperated, crossed the street and called out after her, "what do you want me to say, Bones?" She slowed down slightly. He leaned casually against a tree and waited for her to stop before continuing. "What can I say that I haven't already said? Because I've told you that you were supposed to be notified. And saying 'I'm sorry' you don't seem to accept."

Brennan whirled around to face him, striding back in his direction. "No, I don't accept it. What good does it do?" she laughed bitterly. "For the past two weeks it's been hell. Angela was constantly on the verge of tears, Cam was stiff and uncomfortable and Hodgins and Zack were practically silent."

Booth's gaze bore into her eyes. "What about you?"

Her eyes met his defiantly. "I dealt with it."

He let out a derisive snort. "Yeah, like you are now."

Wrong thing to say.

Her eyes narrowed. He straightened up from the tree and took a step back for his own safety. Her words came out quietly, but sharp and clear. "Considering the situating you put me through, I handled it fairly well."

"So you found out I was dead and that's it? Back to work like nothing happened?" Booth said, unable to disguise the hurt in his voice.

"I said I handled it fairly well, Booth, not that I handled it like a robot!" Brennan snapped. "You can give me a little more credit as a human being than that." She took a deep breath. "When the doctor told me you didn't make it, I think I cried for about an hour on the floor next to a fucking chair, with Angela crouching beside me. I had the weekend to pull myself together as best as I could, and on Monday I went to work on limbo cases." She scowled at him. "I never said that part was easy either."

Booth was, again, at a loss for words as she admitted this to him. He realized it was his turn to speak. "Wow, Bones, I… I appreciate you telling me that. It actually does me a lot to me that you care."

She shrugged. "I was only telling you the truth. Something you could try sometime." Before he could say anything, she took off again.

"Jesus Christ…" Booth muttered under his breath and found himself tearing after her again. "Bones! Bones stop! Please listen to me for a minute!" Silently, he thanked God when she stopped, back still facing him, yet waiting expectantly. He caught his breath and stopped a few feet from her, deciding that letting her have room was probably a wiser course of action that crowding her personal space. "I know I screwed up majorly," he began, ignoring her snort, "and I honestly am so sorry. So sorry that I hurt you or scared you or whatever unpleasant feelings I caused you. You're my partner and my best friend and I shouldn't have lied; and I should have called you myself. And I am unbelievably sorry about all of the lies.

"But I am not sorry for jumping in front of that bullet." He saw her stiffen, but refuse to turn. "I have no regrets taking that bullet. Because if you…" he forced his voice to stay even and not allow the emotions to take over the horrible images that had flashed through his head at the idea of the bullet getting to Brennan, "…you make you… compartmentalize or whatever. I knew you would be able to handle my getting shot a million time better than I'd handle it if you got shot. All it took was a second for me to figure that out, and it's all I had and needed. The idea of you being shot by that fucking lunatic… I knew I'd never be able to live with myself." He took a shuddering breath before continuing. "You at least could go back to helping people. I would've been a mess. He leaned back against a tree. "Losing you is something that I won't allow. Not if I have a say in the matter."

Brennan turned to stand before him, and Booth was momentarily stunned to see the tears running down her enraged face. He now recognized, that other emotion in her eyes: relief; which only served to further confuse him judging by her obvious anger. "Go back to helping people, Booth?" she choked. "How the hell could I possibly do that? We do that together, Booth!" she gestured between the two of them. "Both of us. I can't do it by myself! Maybe I could go back to working limbo, but there's no way anyone could solve crimes like we do together. Without you, there's no me Booth! And I don't give a shit how horribly clichéd it sounds, because it's the goddamned truth!" It almost sounded like she wasn't only talking about work anymore. "We're the center, remember? We both contribute. As a team." She was directly in front of him now, only a few inches. "You with your gut and your gun and FBI connections and reading people and stupid belt buckle and crazy socks and your great big heart. Your stupid thinks-over-your-brain heart!"

She was panting with the tears still streaming down and he was staring at her. The next action was a split decision. She took that one more step towards him as he places his hands at her head and pulled her to him, lips crashing together. Both of his hands threaded through her hair and hers clenched at his shoulders. His mouth moved aggressively over hers. He lightly nipped at her lower lip before parting her lips with his tongue, exploring her mouth. He could taste the salty tears mixed with her own essence, and he softened the kiss for a moment until she took advantage, thrusting her tongue into his mouth. Her hands moved down to creep under his shirt and trace the planes of his chest, leaving trails of fire in her wake.

Booth gently pulled away out of a need for oxygen and a minute to think. He took her hands from his chest and held them firmly in his own. "Should we be doing this here?" his voice came out huskily.

"Should we be doing this at all?" Brennan asked quietly. The tears had stopped, but her breathing was still heavy.

"Judging from that kiss? Yes, definitely."

Brennan couldn't help the small smile form across her lips, but it faded just as quickly. "Booth…" she said warily.

"I know," he sighed. "I really am sorry… about the past two weeks and everything."

"I know," she imitated his sigh. "I believe that you are. I don't forgive you entirely quite yet, but I will eventually."

"Eventually," Booth echoed with a smile.

"Everything happens eventually," Brennan repeated his words from what felt like so long ago.

"Like faking your own funeral," Booth joked lamely.

She hit his arm, hard. "Not funny," she said seriously.

He had caught her arms when she hit him and pulled her into his chest again. "Why did you look relieved?" He read the confusion in her eyes. "I mean when you were angry, I also sensed relief."

"When I came to your house to tell you off, I suppose it was also to make sure that you really were alive and that it hadn't been some sort of dream."

"Not a dream," he leaned to kiss her again but she held him back.

"Don't you remember your line?" she asked him.

Booth stilled. "Yeah, but it would be crossed eventually anyway, if we haven't already."

"Fair point," she agreed.

"Now I'm surprised you're actually going to let me."

"I'd wear down eventually."

Booth grinned. "The 'eventually' thing has already been overused."

"Then what are you stalling for?"

His head lowered and he brushed his lips lightly against hers, starting a much gentler kiss than the previous one. It was more a serious of feather light, open-mouth kisses.

"Should we go back to your house?" she asked breathily against his mouth.

"That's probably a good idea," he muttered, kissing down her neck.

"I meant now. Before your hands get any further up my shirt."

"Right, sorry."

So there it is. I really don't like the ending at all, but I didn't know what to do with it. So I appologise about the sucky ending.

Reviews are appriciated! Please and thank you!