Hi all

Here's a new oneshot I've been working on over the last few weeks, trying to remotivate myself to go write more of The Forensic Anthropologist in the Warehouse (im sorry for the delay, readers...if you havent read, though, feel free to go have a peek ;D)

This is based on the song The Call by Regina Spektor (it's on the Prince Caspian soundtrack :P) so i recommend reading with the song playing/having heard the song before if possible...if not no worries, you should *hopefully* still get the right emotion if ive done my job as a writer :D (this originally did have the lyrics dispersed among the text, but I've heard there are new rules about this on ff so I thought I'd amend that before it gets taken down due to a rule change over time- god have I been on this website that long? Haha)

Enjoy!

The only sound in the car was the gentle whir of the tyres on the road, and the quiet hum of the engine as they sped along the empty highway. None of the usual banter flittered around the cabin; instead it was replaced with a sad and unbroken silence. The silence seemed to extend outside of the car, and to the pair inside it the world seemed to be completely devoid of sound. Clouds so dark they were almost purple darkened the sky, ominously threatening to release their load upon the defenceless earth below.

Neither occupant of the car looked at their companion, each gazing forlornly out at the scenery around them, but neither really seeing it. For once, it was the woman sitting behind the wheel, and her partner sitting in the passenger seat beside her. Although she would normally have debated and argued for hours to achieve such a result, now that she was in the coveted driver's seat, she would have traded anything in the world for it not to be so.

She couldn't believe this was really happening. It was always a possibility, she knew, but it was one of those things that happened to someone else. A cousin's boyfriend. The daughter of the man who owned the deli down the street. But never to anyone that you really cared about.

They had known the date, known the time, for months now. Every detail had been intricately planned on their behalf, and yet neither had acted to relieve the building tension between them. Now, with their final hours together slipping away from them, the tension had almost reached breaking point.

At first, she had hardly realised what she was feeling. It wasn't like how they made it in the movies, there was no definitive time where she knew, or had one of those 'moments' characters always seem to have. It started as a feeling, an inclination. What Booth would call his gut. The tiniest twinge in her subconscious, something almost instinctual. Who knew that it would develop into something so substantial, so all-consuming that she found herself so distracted while thinking of it that she could think of nothing else.

This feeling had developed, nurtured by everything from the smallest of smiles and hugs, to the life-threatening kidnaps and daring arrests. Before she realised what was happening, she had found that small instinct had triggered a question; did he feel the same? Despite herself, she felt hope begin to build inside her that she wasn't the only one who felt this way. That maybe he would feel the same. And, for some reason that was now beyond her, she allowed this idea to grow even further.

She had soon developed the thought that it was possible, even that it was real. The logical portion of her mind had insisted that she analyse the situation, and in the process she had allowed her imagination to run away with her. She had mapped out exactly what she felt, and what she hoped was felt towards her in return. What may have begun as a small daydream, a fantasy at most, had grown and grown until it was like a battle cry within her mind. An internal voice spurred her on, motivating her and building her confidence higher and higher until the words were all but bursting from her lips. But nothing had happened. And soon, it would be too late.

Although neither Brennan nor Booth realised that they weren't alone in the feeling, as soon as their destination was in sight they both felt a shiver run through their body. That apprehensive drop of the stomach was accompanied by a feeling of finality, which was resolutely at hand despite no one wanting its presence. This was it, there was no turning back. The time had finally come.

Booth turned his face away from the place before him, dropping his eyes from the sight he was praying with all his heart was not real. There was such a conflict in his mind that he hardly knew what he was feeling. Professionally, he was ready. His mind was set, and the task ahead of him was not what was causing the turmoil within him. In his heart, however, he wasn't ready. There was still so much to be said, to be done. And now there was no time left to say it.

He had felt the tension between the pair of them grow and intensify over their years together. He was almost certain everyone had. But he was yet to do anything to remedy the situation, to finally release the pressure between them. He had never had the chance, or the nerve, to say the words that needed to be said.

And now, he was regretting every lost opportunity, every chance he surrendered. It was always going to be next time; when it was more convenient, or less awkward, a time when it was more perfect. But that perfect moment had never come, his quiet musings about perhaps one day sharing his feelings seemed destined to forever remain in his mind.

Booth ran an agitated hand through his hair, and stole a glance at the woman sitting beside him. Her face was blank, her stoic expression giving nothing away of what was happening in her mind. He felt his heart sink. What if she really didn't know about what he felt, and was really as oblivious as she sometimes acted like? Would this just seem like some convenient way for him to leave, to escape from a life that some might call bland?

Because it wasn't. If he had a choice, he would live that same life for the rest of eternity. The only reason this was happening was because of his damned sense of duty. Fifteen minutes into his original conversation with Director Cullen and he knew that somehow he was going to be made to do this. What he hoped, though, was that Brennan knew that he didn't really want to go, that he really wanted to stay with her.

Did she know, that the moment she called he would come running back? One word, and he would put everything else aside, and forget anything and everything that convinced him to do this in the first place. There was hardly any reason for her to say goodbye, even. Booth knew this, understood it with every fibre of his being. But his question was, did she understand this herself?

Booth let out a slightly wavering sigh as they pulled up out the front of their destination, the large building towering above the car, and blotting out any of the sun that had managed to break through the thick cloud cover. Booth gently opened his door and stepped outside, shivering slightly from the unexpected gust of cold wind that whipped past the car. He pulled his duffel bag out after him and shut the door. His hand lingered on the shining black metal; who knew when he would see the thing again? With a last glance at his car he turned away, sizing up the building they were parked next to.

Its concrete grey walls stood industrially before him, its base blending seamlessly into the same cement ground beneath it. Booth stared at its walls, hating their presence. He hated anything that had to do with this, but after a few moments of directing his rage at the walls he felt the anger slide away. He knew that he was just looking for an outlet for his emotions, some way for him to avoid a breakdown. He felt his shoulders sag in defeat, and his head drooped forward. He dropped his bag to the ground, and squeezed his eyes shut.

'Booth?'

As she said his name, the first drop of rain fell, hitting his cheek and sliding smoothly down to his jaw. He slowly opened his eyes to see Brennan standing beside him, a concerned look on her face. The rain was starting to fall, and heavily. Large droplets splattered against everything; the pavement at their feet, the roof of the car, their clothes, their faces, promising that everything would be saturated within minutes.

Brennan took a step closer, now standing right in front of Booth. She stared up into his eyes, desperately searching, trying to find some spark that he may be thinking the same thing she was. Wanting the same thing she wanted. They stood, mere inches apart, silent and still in the pouring rain. Booth was looking back at Brennan with that same fierce desperation, aching to allow his brimming emotions to overspill and relieve the tension between them. They could both sense it in one another. Finally, after months of avoidance and dodging of the issue, they both knew it was time. And, as a strike of lightning cracked overhead, they fell into each other's arms.

'What am I going to do without you here?'

'You'll be fine, I promise'

'How can you know that? If it wasn't for you, there are so many times when I could have been killed!' Brennan was becoming more and more agitated, all her concerns and fears and regrets and pent-up emotions overflowing as they were finally given a reason to be released. Her breaths came hurried and shallow, and her eyes darted frantically across his face, desperate to absorb as much of Booth's face as they could in the rapidly passing time they had left together.

Booth saw her distress and felt his heart ache. He hated being the cause of anguish to anyone, but to see Brennan like this was almost too much. She was always so collected, so calm. Now she was before him, looking as vulnerable and lost as a child. He raised his hands and cupped them around her face, rubbing his thumbs gently across her cheekbones. She leant her head into his hand, revelling in the first romantic moment the couple had ever experienced.

'Look, Bones…I've been here before. I've had to leave the woman I love behind, to do what had to be done. It nearly broke my heart, but still I had to go.' Brennan's heart fluttered when the word lovepassed from his lips, but quickly sank into solemnity once again when she heard the rest of the phrase. Her mind immediately moved to Rebecca, and was suddenly overwhelmed with a feeling of being second best. Rebecca was his first choice, the woman he had loved first. How could she know that she was as good an incentive to return as she was back in his sniper days?

But then she looked into his eyes. What she saw there was nearly enough to pull an awestruck gasp from her lips. The emotion, the conviction, and the love she saw there made any uncertain feelings inside her flee like an antelope would a pride of lions. One glance was enough to convince her that she was the one he would be longing for, the person he would fight to be able to see once more.

Booth slid one hand from Brennan's face and entwined it with her own, tightly grasping her small fingers in his own large, comforting ones.

'I know this is a change, a big change. But I've been here before, and I've always come back. I've always kept my friends, my family, and those closest to me near my heart. When I head off into these frays, these wars, its all that can pull me through.' His voice quavered at the end, and his eyes dropped from Brennan's face.

'I just hope that you have that same love, and that it's enough for you too.'

Flashes of painful memories barraged his mind. Dark nights, where the tiniest rustle of a bush could mean devastation for you and your team. Scorching days, where the sun and heat were as big an enemy as the enemy itself. Men with eyes as dark as their souls, wielding weapons or tortuous devices too horrible to mention. The pain, the sickness, the injuries so bad that the only way to motivate yourself to move was to contemplate what else might be done to you if you didn't get away.

All of this might have been unbearable, if it weren't for the thought of the love waiting for him back home. A supportive family, a tight group of friends, and a loving woman all patiently waiting for his return. Of course, that was years ago now. The people in his life had shuffled and changed, naturally, but each category was still present and strong.

Brennan saw Booth's eyes drop, saw his demeanour lose its strength. She raised her free hand and ran it through his soaking hair. His eyes slowly lifted back to Brennan's face, unashamed to show the tears now mingling with the raindrops trailing down his cheeks. Brennan felt her own eyes begin to prickle as she saw the raw emotion on the face of the man before her, but taking a deep breath she forced out a wavering smile.

'You'll come back? When it's over?' Brennan sniffed and shuddered against the cold now beginning to chill her skin, and Booth pulled her close to him.

'There's no need to even say goodbye.'

A clanging alarm began to ring from inside the building beside them, and a large door began to rattle open. An engine spluttered to life inside, and the loud roar of the machine escalated as an aeroplane exited the hanger. Light from within the metal walls of the building reflected off the sodden tarmac, silhouetting the plane as it exited its home. Air technicians followed behind the craft, jogging to various points to ensure the safety of the plane and its passenger.

But Booth and Brennan ignored all that was happening around them. They were still intently concentrating on one another, trying as hard as they could to commit the person before them to memory. To learn by heart every detail of their face, their body, and the emotions that they were expressing. Just in case they woke the next morning, convinced it was just a dream. They needed the confirmation, something solid and definite to remember this moment by.

Booth's hands were once again cupping Brennan's face, his fingers hastily exploring the smooth skin he had so often thought about. He knew this moment would be what would pull him through the rough patches, that this would be the face he dreamt of during his otherwise sleepless nights. He would let the memories grow, spurring them along with feelings he finally knew were being reciprocated. He would make the memories and the dreams so accurate that Brennan may as well be in front of him herself. But only as long as he had to. As soon as he could return, he would be on the first Washington-bound flight available.

But he was getting ahead of himself. A fact he was strongly reminded of when a young man wearing a soaked army uniform jogging up to him.

'Agent Booth, sir, we need to be leaving as soon as possible.' The man stood beside Booth, his back straight and his face agonisingly innocent. Booth could tell with a single glance that this would be his first time out, and that he had certainly never been in this type of situation before. He heard Brennan sniffle in his arms, before feeling her turn to the young man.

'You're certain that you will be flying out in this weather?' The question sounded feeble to her own lips, like a last-ditch attempt to keep Booth in her arms for a minute longer.

'I'm sorry, ma'am, but this flight is scheduled to leave in five minutes, and it must leave on time.' He gave an apologetic smile to the pair, but stayed where he was. Remaining, as a firm reminder that their time was up. No more waiting, no more time to waste. They had reached the end, and there was nothing else to be done.

Booth lifted his saturated duffel bag from the ground and slung it over one shoulder. He turned back to Brennan, and pulled her into one final hug. It was fierce, tight, and filled with more emotion that either of them had ever experienced before. Brennan huddled herself against his chest, burying her face in his green army fatigues. She inhaled his scent, felt his chest rise and fall as he took deep, steadying breaths to calm himself. Her eyes focused on the uniform before her; she traced her fingers over the buttons, the edge of the pocket, across the stitched letters spelling S. BOOTHacross his heart.

She suddenly looked up, her eyes meeting his in an instant. There was a beat, a moment of hesitation, before the pair leaned in closer. Their lips met with a scorching passion, this first real kiss the ultimate outlet for their grief. Grief, for the fact that they were losing each other, when they had only really found each other for the first time moments before. The kiss lasted both forever and mere seconds, felt both satisfyingly long and much too short. Booth had to physically pull himself away, to consciously unwrap his arms from around the woman before him. He rapidly began to march away, towards the plane that would carry him back to the last place he had ever wanted to return to.

As she felt him rip himself from her arms, Brennan let out an involuntary whimper. Her arms extended out to him, but he never turned back. She watched him march with a determined and strong stride until he reached the spluttering plane. He lightly climbed the metal steps, only pausing when he reached the top. He looked back, a mournful slant casting his face into an unnatural depression. Booth felt a solitary tear cut a path down his already sodden cheek, seeing his one and only love standing on the tarmac. She was so close, but yet so far away. She looked tiny, and vulnerable, and all he wanted to do was run back to her. Protect her for the rest of his days. But, despite his heart screaming in protest, he forced himself away, into the cramped cabin of the aircraft. Into, what he felt, was his personal transport to hell.

Brennan saw the door to the plane close, and watched it taxi down the runway. It was almost painful to watch, to see the one she loved being taken away from her. For an undetermined amount of time. Perhaps, even, for good. War zones were unpredictable. Her work uncovering lost, hidden and forgotten skeletons in those areas had proven that to her. She was just hoping, begging, and praying that Booth's body would not be one of those that came back home in a body bag.

But, he had promised her. He had sworn that he would return. And she believed him, with every fibre of her being. A sad smile graced her face for a short moment, as she reminisced the moments before he left. And she was suddenly reassured. She knew him; she knew he would never do anything to hurt her. He kept his promises, was too honourable to go back on his word. So if he said that he'd come back, he would.

'No need to say goodbye…' she murmured under her breath, her eyes still watching the ever-shrinking shape that was the plane. She stood, in the chilling and unrelenting rain, until the plane finally disappeared into the clouds. With a sniffle Brennan turned away, and walked back to the car that was once his. She unlocked the door and pulled it open, but before climbing into the driver's seat she took one last glance at the sky. She could still hear his voice in her mind, repeating the loving words he said over and over. She sighed, not sure if this day would ever leave her mind. But she wasn't even certain she ever wanted it to.

One phrase stayed in her mind, a beacon of hope that convinced her mind that all was going to be okay. She was his star on a dark horizon, and his words were going to be hers. She climbed into the driver's seat and shut the door, inhaling the scent of the man that was now her partner in more ways that one. Until he returned, she was going to treasure everything that she had of his, everything that reminded her of him. And that one phrase would become her mantra, what would pull her through every day without her love by her side.

No need to say goodbye.

Le fin :P

I hope you all gathered where Booth was heading...(cough*iraq-war-zone*cough)...i didnt really want to come outright and have booth be like 'im going back to iraq: pity me!'

im hoping you enjoyed this, so could you please leave a review if you did? or if you didnt? impartial? whatever, really, as i will value your opinions

thanks so much for reading, have a nice day :D