A/N: Alright so this is my first fanfiction, I hope you all enjoy! Special thanks to giggelot for helping me review and edit! :D
This was the worst part of the job, because it always reminded Booth of . . . her. His heart ached at the empty seat beside him and the eerie silence that accompanied it. This was why he had preferred desk duty during the time she was away.
Away.
This was how he explained it. It was the only possible way he could quantify her absence without his heart crushing beneath his chest. The word 'away' implied a temporary state, whereas 'missing' or 'fugitive' guaranteed nothing, it was unpredictable, with no promise of a return. So the work days that required Booth to manually confirm basic identity information of FBI consultants by travelling never failed to reopen the debilitating wound caused by her disappearance.
Of course he understood why she ran, why she had taken their daughter with her. He wasn't angry . . . Booth gripped the wheel tighter. No, he wasn't angry with her, he was furious at Pelant. He wanted to end the bastard that had torn apart his family. But for now he could only wait for lab results from the Jeffersonian. Cam assured Booth that the moment she discovered anything crucial he would be the first to know. And therefore Booth arrived at the small rural town in Virginia with the same solemn mood he had been in since Brennan left, simply anxious to complete his job so he could return home to D.C. and interrogate Cam for any new information.
. . .
Thumping the consultant's door with more force than necessary, Booth impatiently awaited for the man to answer. He was in no mood for Mr. Hemb to take his sweet time. His house appeared to be in the most populated area of town: a small outdoor grocery next door along with a few boutiques, a deli, and other stores created a miniscule shopping region for the town's residents. At last the door's locks unbolted and the timid middle-aged man appeared from behind the door.
"Special Agent Seeley Booth from the FBI, Mr. Hemb. I'm simply here to update and confirm your identification information for the Bureau."
"Oh yes, of course. Please, call me Sam," the man replied, "I didn't think I was to be expecting you for another half hour, but do come in." Booth grimaced, wanting to spend as little time as possible in the car, he had pushed 95 mph for the majority of the three and a half hour drive. Let's just get this interview over with, Booth thought to himself as he shut the door behind him.
. . .
Shaking Sam's hand, Booth thanked him once more for allowing their meeting to be short and precise. Booth fancied nothing more than to head back to the Jeffersonian to reevaluate the progress on the Pelant case. But as he opened the door of his black SUV, an abrupt wave of depression washed over him as his eyes fell on the empty passenger seat. Suddenly, he didn't want to endure another long car ride alone, and settled with wandering the various shops for fifteen minutes or so. He figured he should pick up some groceries, since he had been surviving on frozen TV dinners for the past few weeks.
Booth was sorting through the various carts of fruit, unable to focus on what he actually wanted to purchase, when a loud crash interrupted his melancholy thoughts. The cage that had housed thirty or so chickens was now open and chaos flooded the streets: customers running everywhere and the owner attempting to catch his flock. And for the first time in months, Booth cracked a smile. He laughed. Because he could only imagine one person clumsy enough to cause this sort of mayhem. For only a minute, it took Booth's mind off of the gravity of his despairing life, and he glanced over at the assumed woman responsible for the wreckage as she repeatedly apologized to the owner. With a pair of faded blue jeans and a bandana covering her hair, her silhouette looked oddly familiar. Although about 200 feet away, she seemed to know somebody was specifically watching her in the disorder encasing the street. Booth sensed that something was off with her but was still smiling when she finally met his eyes.
And then he stopped.
The pale blue eyes that glistened in the sunlight. The high cheekbones that were set so perfectly. And the immediate recognition that showed on her face.
"Bones," was all he could murmur.
He had found her.
A/N: Alright I would really appreciate everyone's comments, if you didn't like it, I still want to know! Also, I'm not really sure where I should go next with this story, so if anyone has any ideas please let me know! I'll definitely make sure to give you credit! Thanks!
