Hi again, people. Yes, I'm nuts. And yes, I'm aware that I already have some ongoing stories, thank you very much. I also am a poor victim of a demonic muse that forces me to write whatever she throws at me. What else can I do, huh? No choice, really! I'm fighting aaaaaaaaaah writing for my life.

This story line may be a little clichéd, but it still begs to get written. I hope you'll like it. First time ever (for me ;) ) to write Brennan in first person. Hope it works out. Thank you in advance for reading, sweeties!

Coming home…

Chapter 1

I gulped down a glass of cold water. I had been feeling off for some time now, but today it was even worse. My breakfast had not wanted to stay down and a throbbing headache was making it very hard to concentrate. I refused to let a little weakness of my body take precedence over my work, though. So, I had better get myself back to the remains I needed to identify. After all, though Booth was not here anymore, I still had work to do. I closed my eyes for a moment and leant back in my chair, thinking about how things had changed in the last few weeks.

The new liaison with the FBI was a female agent and that was just as well. I couldn't have stood it, if Booth's temporary replacement would have resembled him. She didn't and I was grateful for it…. although maybe elaborating on these rather irrational feelings would be bordering on psychology. I hate psychology, period, so I didn't want to go deeper into it.

I sighed and set the glass aside, eyeing the blank surface of my desk. Not a single paper marred the clean wood. Small wonder, since I've been working overtime the past few weeks…. I had probably gone through all my paperwork twice. Just to make sure there was no mistake. You could never be too precise.

I heard a noise from the doorway and looked up. "Sweetie, you look exhausted." My best friend addressed me, the expression on her face matching the worry in her voice.

"I'm fine." I gave back, refusing to even acknowledge that I was not. In fact, far from it.

"You've got to see a doctor, Bren. You've been cranky ever since Booth went on his assignment, but the last few weeks…. You look ill, Sweetie. I can tell you're not sleeping well. You lost weight and you're always so pale." Angela walked towards me, a concerned look on her face. I felt somewhat honored that she was concerned for my welfare, but still…

"Please. Go see a doctor. What can it hurt?" She repeated, her voice pleading.

"I have work to do, Ange." I gave back, but even to my own ears, my voice sounded unexpectedly weak.

"Not 24 hours a day, Sweetie. You have grad students to look over the basic things." Angela pointed out and I knew she was right. I didn't have to like it, though.

"Bren…. I promised Booth to look after you. You're not making it easy for me, really. What if Booth comes back and finds you like that? He would be angry with me for not taking care of you." Angela tried a different tactic. I managed a weak smile. "He wouldn't be angry with you, Angela. Maybe with me, but not with you. You just want to make me feel guilty enough to see a doctor."

"Well, yeah. But… is it working?" She asked hopefully, trying her best to make a pleading face… puppy-dog eyes people called that, if I didn't mix anything up – as I so often had before.

"Don't look at me like that." I addressed her and she blinked. "How?"

"As if I was giving you physical pain by not going to the doctor. Making me feel guilty is not going to work." I informed her. She let out a frustrated sigh. "Bren, would you go to the doctor as a personal favour to me?"

"A personal favour? I fail to see where there would be a benefit for you." I arched an eyebrow at her. Not a smart move, since it seemed to make the headache worse. I stifled a wince.

"I wouldn't have to worry that much… worrying makes my hair turn grey. There, you see!" She yanked at her hair. She'd dyed it a few days ago, so there surely was no trace of grey. But that didn'T stop her rant. "Your fault! If you see a doctor I would have less to worry about. Less grey hair, it's simple really. And you know I'm going to make your life miserable by pestering you until you go."

She made me laugh. Trust Angela to have an absolutely unscientific explanation, that still managed to sound somehow reasonable. And made me feel guilty, all wrapped up in one.

"Okay, okay. You win. I'm calling Dr. Krug. I'm sure he can make time for me." I promised.

"Do it." She urged me. "I'm not going to leave until you make that call."

"Fine." I rolled my eyes at her, although her obvious concern made me feel a little better than before. I hated to admit it even to myself, but I missed Booth's teasing. I missed that he was always concerned about my welfare…. Angela worrying about me was not the same, but still appreciated.

I reached for my notebook and searched for Dr. Krug's phone number, punched it in and waited for his secretary to answer. A few minutes later I had an appointment for the next morning before work. "Satisfied?" I asked my best friend after ending the call.

"A doctor's appointment at 7 in the morning. Only you would suggest that." She rolled her eyes at me. "Ah, well… better than nothing, right?" She nodded and turned towards the door, but stopped as if remembering something.

"You're not going to stay until midnight again, like you did yesterday." It sounded like an order and she gave me a stern look.

"Why do you know how long I've been here yesterday night?" I asked, surprised.

"I talk to people, Bren. Come on, you're not feeling well, you're allowed to go home at five like everybody else once in awhile. Especially when you look as pale as a ghost." She said and I shook my head at her words. "Ghosts do not exist." I felt obliged to inform her of that fact.

"Hm." She made and looked at me, as if examining me. "Could have fooled me. I swear it's hard to tell your face apart from the white wall behind you. Go home, Sweetie. Take a bath, rest and see the doctor tomorrow. You won't be any good to those dead people if you join them, huh?"

I blinked and processed her words. "I'm hardly going to work myself to death, Angela."

"I sure hope so. Prove it and go home early today." Again, there was a commanding tone in her voice. My head ached, I was tired and feeling a little nauseous. Maybe going home wasn't such a bad idea after all. "Okay." I said. "I'm going home after I finished examining the remains on the platform."

Her eyes narrowed a little. "The one set of remains that has been there since yesterday? The guy with the crushed skull?" Obviously she wanted to make sure there were no loopholes.

I refrained from correcting her about the exact damage to the skull. "Yes, that set of remains. It's going to take me one or two hours, not more. I promise to you that I'll be home by six, okay?" I offered.

"Okay." She nodded and I saw the expression of relief and satisfaction on her face. "You need to take care of yourself, Sweetie." She said and vanished. I listened to the clanking sound of her heels and sighed again. It was pathetic and very, very irrational…. But I missed Booth.

Please let me know what you think!!!! Thanks a lot, everybody!