Parted


There had been a time not so long ago when eating alone would not have phased her. But that, of course, was before Seeley Booth had come into her life. Or rather, before he had come into her life with any semblance of permanence.

Seeley Booth would have saved her from an excess of fried rice.

If, that is, Seeley Booth had still been her partner.

It had happened before Brennan had known it was happening. One minute they were bickering over bones, always over someone's bones, and then, out of the blue, Booth had thrown his arms into the air and announced that he'd had enough. He was done. There was no living with it anymore. She hadn't thought much of it when he'd been marching away from her, he'd gotten this way before. The shock of the loss came later, when she'd been told he'd put in for reassignment. Grief followed on the heels of that. Grief and anger. Which, finally, had left her hungry.

She hadn't taken any calls since a FBI agent named Aubrey had contacted her to let her know he'd be in tomorrow to catch up on any open cases. Aubrey, it seemed, was her temporary agent until Booth's replacement could be found.

But why had he left her? Because that's what it felt like. Not that he'd abandoned their very important work, but that, more specifically, he'd left her. It was like he had died, but worse, because he'd chosen this sort of death. She shoved her take-out away and felt sick. She was already blaming the food, although on a deeper level she knew it was just her reaction to being dumped so abruptly by someone she

( loved. )

She shied away from the word, even in the privacy of her own mind. But yes, she supposed she loved him. In fact, supposed was not quite accurate. She did love him. Had, actually, loved him for a while. Maybe since he'd saved her from a desperate FBI agent and a pack of hungry dogs. And she'd wanted him longer than that.

Oh, what did it matter now?

There were five messages from Angela on the message machine in her apartment.

Seven emails from Hodgins. And one, just one but one more than she'd expected, from Cam. No doubt Sweets had called her cell. She did not turn it on to look. Because what if…what if he'd called?

I'll go to Peru. I'll go to Paraguay. I'll go to Jebel Ali and backpack to Dubai, and then from there I'll head back southeast toward Oman…

Yes, then she wouldn't have to worry about Booth and her friends would understand why she could not be reached. Leaving the country solved everything. She'd been wanting to get away for a while anyway, the solution seemed perfect. She left the Thai on her table and rushed to her bedroom, dragging out her well-used suitcase. In a fervor, she began tucking shirts into neat piles inside it. Then pants and toiletries. She tucked in undergarments and then made a list of supplies she'd need to survive camping in the desert – she'd prepare when she arrived in the United Arab Emirates. Her passport was in her fire-and-flood proof safe, and she moved toward that next, the whole process taking less than a half-hour even when she'd had to stop and search for a pen for the list, and—and—

"Where are you running?" asked a quiet, familiar voice.

Temperance whirled, startled. "What?"

"I asked," said Booth, with a shadow-smile that was weak, "where are you going?"

( --going. Not running. Oh, Bones, get a hold of yourself. ) She let her fingers fall away from the dial on the safe.

"I don't know yet." ( Why am I speaking to him? ) "Why are you here?"

"I thought I should probably explain. And I didn't think you'd answer the phone. Or the door. I…uh…well, Black Ops-ed it. Sorry."

"You should leave," she said, and he flinched.

"Bones—"

"Don't call me Bones." She tried to elbow past him. He caught her arm and she rammed her knee into his stomach and jerked free, thinking he should have expected that.

"I should have expected that," he groaned. "Temperance, wait. Please."

"I don't need you to explain. I need to get to the airport."

"You didn't finish opening the safe to get your passport," he said evenly.

"I lost Zach, Booth. Now you." She stopped talking for a moment, a lump in her throat. "What else am I supposed to do?"

"Temperance," he said, and the hands that took her arms were as gentle as his voice. "I made a mistake when I stormed out like that. But I'm not leaving you."

"Yes, you are," she argued. "I already talked to Aubrey."

"No," he said. "I'm not."

His hands pulled her closer and though she tried to resist, it didn't matter. Closer she went. His warm, brown eyes were close to hers now, very close, and she hesitated, sure he was about to make a mistake. And then he went ahead and did it anyway. His lips covered hers, gentle but possessive, and before she thought about it, her arms were winding tight around his neck, and his wound around her waist and she thought finally at just about the same time he did.

After a while, he pulled back. Their eyes met again and she slowly released him, although he did no more than loosen his hold on her. He stared for a moment, then spoke haltingly, as though he was trying to wake up from a dream.

"That's why I asked to be reassigned. I should have asked a long time ago but I…I wasn't sure. You're hard to read sometimes and things were so messed up – first Cam, then Zach happened and Angela and Hodgins…I just…"

"I don't understand."

Booth smiled a little self-consciously.

"Ah Bones, I knew you'd make me say it," he said.

She started to ask what, but he touched her mouth with a single fingertip, gently hushing her.

"I love you."

"Oh." She thought it was a little harder to breathe than it had been just a moment ago. She was glad Booth still had an arm around her, she was swaying a little. But her heart was beating slow and steady, and she had been waiting for him to say this for a long time whether she had known it consciously or not.

"I…"

"You don't have to say it, Bones. It's all hormones and serotonin to you, I know." He was smiling a little more naturally now. "So…am I invited on this vacation or what?"

"I…"

His smile faded and he took her hand and kissed it. "You're stuck with me, Temperance. I'm not going anywhere. Except maybe Mexico, if you're game."

"Mexico? I was going to backpack in the desert, maybe the UAE or…"

"Bones, Bones, Bones, vacation is not about surviving, it's about relaxing," he told her, leading the way back out into her living room. He sat himself down and helped himself to some of what was left of her Thai food, and as he did, Brennan stopped and just looked at him. And after a long moment, she said,

"I love you, too."

There was silence as they stared at each other, and then Booth got up, brushed his hands off on his jeans, and wagged a finger at her.

"No serotonin."

"No. Well, probably, but that's not what I meant when I said—"

He was grinning as he dove in to kiss her to silence. And she let him. And thought maybe Mexico would be a nice change.