Don't Call Me Bren, a bones fanfic

Don't Call Me Bren

A/N: This one has been nagging at me for a while now…so here it is.

A/N2: Also, I would just like to let everyone know that I'm sorry for the confusion about an "adam's apple". BOTH men and women have "adam's apples," men's however are more prominent, making most people think that they are the only ones who have them. The adam's apple is the laymen's term for the larynx (or however you spell it), the "adam's apple" is what bobbs up and down when you swallow--therefore my sentence would have sounded strange, odd, and forced if I were to have said, "Her larynx bobbed as she swallowed". And I do realize that most of you understand what I am trying to say with the sentence and wording, so thank you for reading and reviewing. Please pm me any grammatical corrections. =) Thanks.

Disclaimer: I don't own Bones. =)

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After he'd woken up and spoke those three words he'd wished he never said, she left, a tear running down her cheek as she turned to look at him through the window. That was the last time he'd seen her. She always sent her "hello's" and "get well's" and even once mac 'n' cheese, through the artist, whom he remembered as a hostess-Angela- and the others, from his life and what he had come to realize was apparently a dream; but he had seen her since that tear had stained her shirt.

He was still having trouble remembering, but he knew, he knew that she was probably at work because he knew that her work calmed her the most and distracted her from her life. All of this he was sure of; what was fuzzy which work? The Lab that he remembered so vividly or the Medico-Legal Lab that Angela had told him they all worked at?

When he'd ate the mac 'n' cheese she'd sent him he remembered eating with her after she'd made it for the first time- but he remembered so clearly that they were married, so he thought this was a first date in his memory. However the tanned finger on his left hand with no ring or tan line told him that this "memory" had to be wrong.

His visitors had all been familiar, but what they said they did didn't match. He kept looking for Bren, hoping she'd come back. The doctors released him from the hospital; Angela drove him home. She said that she had told Brennan about his release and she was sure that she would stop by. He wasn't as sure.

Later that night while looking around his apartment trying to remember things about his life he was starting to filter through the dream and reality there was a knock at the door. Opening it he grinned, "Bren!"

Her expression hadn't changed, still just as sad as before, "I brought you pie." She said handing it to him.

"Bren come on in." he stepped out of her way, motioning for her to enter.

She looked around his apartment and then sighed, walking in. "I shouldn't stay long, you need your rest."

"Rest!" he exclaimed with a smile, "Bren I've been resting for the past week!" he chuckled.

They sat on his couch after he had gotten a fork for his pie. He took a bite and ate like he was starving-not once offering her a piece like he normally did. He looked up at her looking at her confused expression, "What's up Bren?"

She sighed, she hated that he called her that, "You just normally offer me a bite and don't give up on trying to get me to eat some."

He smiled, "I know." Her eyes widened, "But with all of this, my memory, I didn't want to tease you about not liking cooked fruit." He took another bite and raised his head quickly with a huge grinned on his face, "Wait! I just remembered that!"

The first smile since he woke spread across her face, "That's good."

She did end up staying longer than she had planned but he noticed that she was still upset, "Bren, I'll get things straight, I promise."

Brennan shook her head and closed her eyes wishing he'd stop calling her Bren, Angela was the only person her called her that. Standing she sighed, "I need to go." Grabbing her coat she tried to control the tear in her eyes.

Booth stood, following her to the door, "Bren please, stay."

Her hand was on the door knob as she turned toward him and finally lost control as one tear fell, "Don't call me Bren." And she closed the door behind her.

Booth sat back in his couch wishing she had stayed longer. He need to clear up this confusion, he had hoped she could help, after all he remembered she didn't like fruit cooked tonight. He grinned about all her weird little quirks, "Bones…" shaking his head in amusement.

His eyes snapped open and he took a breath before he grabbed his coat and ran out the door.

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She'd been staying at the lab ever since he'd woke u[, trying to forget about it all; but now after seeing Booth, after that name, Bren; she'd ended up here, gun in hand.

One after another bullet holes appeared in her target. "Bren." She says as she pulls the trigger, "He never calls me that. That's not my name." she continues to ran, as tears fall and bullets fly.

He watched her as she 'killed' the target forty times over, listening to her voice as tears fell onto the gun counter in front of her. He grinned remembering something that would make her understand.

Leaning up against the wall he spoke, "I knew I'd find you here." He watched her slowly put her gun down and removed her ear covers in hopeful anticipation, "You know your being a good shot and all;" he pushed himself from the wall, knowing he was paraphrasing his original statement, "it's all your way of dealing. Who knows better than you how fragile life can be?"

She smiled through her tears, "Maybe an Army Ranger Sniper," she sniffed, "who became an FBI Agent."

He smiled stepping forward, "Awe, Bones, you looked me up?"

The expression on her face made him weak, "What did you just call me?"

His charm smile spread ear to ear, "Bones."

"I missed you." She threw her arms around his neck, "And yes I know it's irrational, it's only been six days since the surgery but I missed you!"

He hugged her and laughed, "It's okay Bones, I missed you too."

She pulled herself from the hug and just looked at him, "Booth?"

"Yeah Bones?" he looked right back at her with a happy expression on his face.

Her Adam's apple bobbed as she swallowed, "I'm going to kiss you. I hope that's okay."

His eyes widened, his mouth fell open and his face paled, "uh…sure…uhm…" her lips touched his stopping his voice. The kiss was soft and sweet, but it spoke volumes about where their relationship would be heading.

They pulled apart and she wiped her lower lip looking down shyly. He smiled watching her, then looked at the target, grabbed her gun and with one shot there was a hole in the targets head. "I don't quite remember that being where you hit the last target." She teased him.

"That's because you left to soon, I did that," He pointed to the target, "after you had gone."

She shook her head and smiled, "Let's go."

They turned toward the door, his hand finding its old home on her lower back.

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