A/N: I know. Another story from me? Disturbing, considering that I'm still finishing my other ones. Blame it on the flu-ridden state I'm in. This story is going to be a chronological tale of B&B's life together. Except, it's going to go backwards! Starting with this chapter and moving through their life together to when they first got together. The chapters will be quite sporadic. I hope you enjoy! For those reading my other stories, A Charismatic Evil and This Relationship from Wink Productions, both will be updated soon!
Temperance Brennan stared at herself in the mirror, her graying hair framing her face. She wiped the sleep out of her eyes and sighed. Turning from the mirror, she made her way out of the bathroom, her pajama pants falling slightly on her hips.
Her clothes seemed to be getting bigger nowadays; she had lost a lot of weight, both because of her advancing age and the thing with Booth.
The thing with Booth.
It had been three weeks and she still couldn't call it for what it was. She gripped the banister and made her way down the stairs to the kitchen. She was desperate for a cup of tea. She couldn't stomach coffee anymore; the doctor had said that it was too much for her stomach to take.
Another exciting thing about being old.
She sighed again and headed for the kitchen, her eyes studiously avoiding the photos that framed the walls. She put the kettle on the stove and got out her favorite mug, one she had for years, that had a picture of a skeleton and the words: 'Age: 35, Gender: Female, Cause of Life: Love'
Today was the type of day that made her wish she could go to work.
However, they don't let 79 year old forensic anthropologists gallivant around the lab. Even though she could still do her job as well as her successors. She had been there several times after she had retired but she couldn't stand to see someone else in her office, on her platform, in her lab. It's been twelve years since she retired and Booth had to force her to leave at that point.
Booth.
A wave of pain washed over her and she sat at the kitchen table, her hands gripping the side.
A splash of wetness hit the table and she realized that it was a tear. A tear on her on jarra wood table they had picked up that time they were in Australia. Another one fell and then another as she remembered their trip, remembered their life together.
Her and Booth. Partners. Friends. Lovers. Husband and Wife.
Their life had been full of ups and downs and twists and turns, an adventure that she loved until three weeks ago when Booth had died.
He had left her, even though he said he wouldn't, and now she was here alone. After decades with him, laughing at his corny jokes, feeling his arms around her, she was alone.
Now all she could do was remember.