a/n:

1) This is the third story in the "Red Shoes" series. They are, in chronological order - Red Shoes, I'll Say I'm Sorry Now and Remember The Time. There's also a NCIS side fic called All That Lies Between Us (of which you can request a particular one shot for anything in the Red Shoes universe. Just send me an email via my Profile).

2) I have been nominated for an NCIS Fanfiction award (best crossover). I am trying to contain my excitement! The link is posted on my Profile page if you want to show your support. Voting begins on July 15th!

3) The Fanfic Jungle Awards are up and running. If you would like to nominate a fic for Bones, House and Wicked. The link to the site is on my Profile. Nominations are now open!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except Miguel and Brennan's foster backstory.

Brennan chewed her lip, cradling her cell in front of her.

It had been a few weeks since Booth and her had returned from London. Zack was committed, her father had waltzed back into her life, Hodgins and Angela were no longer Hodgins and Angela, and Booth was being…well, Brennan didn't really know what was going through Booth's mind. They were usually so in sync with each that it was rather disconcerting to realize that she couldn't read the patterns flitting across his face like she used to.

But then again, Booth's death still hung over them like a black cloud. Brennan knew that that they were slowly, steadily, tentatively closing back to each other and yet their relationship was, well, she couldn't really call it a relationship, could she? Neither of them had discussed ending it – after all, Brennan knew that Booth was what she wanted – but there was a distinct sense of separation now. It was as if they were consciously giving the other the time and space to come to terms with whatever had happened between them.

It was something that Brennan was both grateful and resentful of.

Sighing heavily she pressed the phone to her ear again, replaying the message Miguel had left on her voicemail.

'Hello Temperance. I realize that I should be delivering this in person, but I'm still trying to tie up a few loose ends back in Chicago. I need to close a few chapters before I can really begin anew. I hope you understand. I thought about stopping by the old house…I haven't decided yet. I'll try calling you again. Hopefully this time you'll pick up.'

The flat dial tone made her place her Blackberry down on the table, wondering why Miguel saw need to go back to a place that Brennan knew she never wanted to revisit. But perhaps Miguel dealt with pain in his own way.

Well, I hope the Jespers offer him some consolation.

Looking out on the forensic platform, Wendell's shadow sent a longing through Brennan for when things were simpler. Before everything had spiraled out of control. Back when she had her family together, no matter how eccentric and dysfunctional everyone was. The shrill ring of her office phone shook her out of her thoughts.

'Dr Temperance Brennan,' she answered automatically.

'So what are you wearing?'

'Tony?' Temperance blinked, her gaze shooting to the clock on her wall. 'Aren't you supposed to be working?'

'I am,' he spoke as if she had just insulted him. A faint murmuring in the background was followed by a pained yelp. Brennan rolled her eyes at Tony and McGee's childish behaviour.

'Well I'm busy. Is this important?'

'Ouch,' Tony feigned hurt. 'Someone got out of the wrong side of the bed this morning.'

'I don't know what that means.'

'Why so crabby? Did Booth do something? Because McGee's been going to the gym, apparently. He needs to be blooded.'

'Booth hasn't done anything,' Brennan responded.

Which is the problem, isn't it?

'Trouble in paradise, huh? Lot of that going around.' Something in Tony's voice made her sit up in her chair.

'Is this about Ziva?' Brennan pressed.

'No.' His reply was too quick, too hasty. Tony must have realized this as well because he attempted to sound nonchalant. 'I was just wondering if you've heard from her lately, is all.'

'You see her more than I do. In fact, she sits in the desk directly across from yours for more than eight hours a day.'

'That doesn't mean she sees me,' Tony muttered. Brennan thought that McGee must be eavesdropping. There was a rustle of fabric before Tony spoke again.

'She's been acting all shifty since she's come back from the Holy Land.'

'Well I'm sure it was hard for her to see her father again. You know how she feels about him,' Brennan reminded him, thinking of Max.

'No. It's more than that.'

'Tony,' Brennan said, exhaling. 'Is there an empirical foundation to your suppositions?'

'What?'

'Leave Ziva alone. She doesn't need you hovering around and poking your nose everywhere. She keeps her drawer locked for a reason.'

'Ah ha! You did speak to her!' Tony crowed triumphantly. 'I did that yesterday. And for the record, it's illegal to keep things from me. I'm going to get it legislated.'

Brennan paused, detecting something in Tony's tone that made her smirk ever so slightly. She had heard from Tony about the undercurrent of sexual tension between the NCIS agents. Abby had sent her a detailed chronology of Ziva's relationship with the Italian when Brennan had made the mistake of asking the forensic scientist for her opinion. Since then, she had seemed to conclude that Brennan was now part of Operation Tiva.

While Brennan would have been more than happy to see Tony and Ziva find happiness together, she didn't think it was going to be as easy as Abby thought it would be. There was too much baggage there, something Brennan was all too familiar with. Jeanne Benoit had been a blow to Ziva though the Israeli had never explicitly said so. Brennan could see it in the way she treated Tony - how she now reined in the impulse to push herself aggressively at Tony, how Ziva now shuttered herself off from anything remotely personal.

Tony was still reeling from the abrupt end to his relationship with Jeanne. After finding out that Jeanne had accused him of murder, Tony had finally seemed accept that what he thought was between them was really over. It had stung to see the desolate expression on her friend's face when he had turned up at her down, suit rumpled and his cheeks sticky. They had split a bottle of scotch quietly between them, neither saying a word. When Brennan had awoken the next morning, Tony was gone. Thank You was all the note had said.

She had simply taken the bottle and tumblers into the kitchen, knowing that Tony would seek her out when he needed her.

Booth had stopped by that morning as well, she remembered, and had frowned seeing the crumpled blanket and pillow. That frown had deepened when he discovered Tony had slept on the couch, but he hadn't pushed the subject further, merely pressing his lips and telling her that they were going to be late.

'Tempe?' Tony's question made her blink.

'Tony, Ziva will tell you when she's ready.'

'Now you learn about girl talk? Now? Angela's wrong you know. Girl talk is actually gender neutral. In fact, aren't we all about anti-discrimination and equality around here?'

'Hey Bones, we got a body!' Booth's shout reverberated through the Jeffersonian.

'I have to go,' Brennan said into the phone. 'They found a body.'

'Fine.' Tony sounded as if he was pouting. 'But remember DiNozzo's Rule 4?'

'Not particularly,' Brennan remarked absently, unbuttoning her lab coat.

'Don't desist when they resist.'

'C'mon Bones! We don't have all day!'

'I'll speak to you later Tony. I promise. And I suggest you desist your investigation before Ziva resists. Violently.'

'I live for danger. Have fun with the boyfriend,' Tony said before hanging up.

Noticing the sunglasses on Booth's face, and how he didn't speak to her as she got into the SUV, Brennan didn't think it was going to be very fun at all.