AN: Thanks to xX Melissa Xx, boothishot, idaatje, J3nnif3r, Zucht, fortune kookie 91, mustang2029, and saturn567 who gave me such nice reviews. I think this may be the most reviews to any chapter I've posted. It makes me feel all fuzzy and warm. Thanks to redrider6612 for helping me with this story. She read at least two drafts of each chapter. As requested, this chapter is longer than the prologue. Enjoy.
Booth awoke suddenly when he heard the loud knock on his door, interrupting a pleasant dream. He squinted at the clock: 2:35AM. Who was making so much noise at this time of the morning? It was loud enough to wake the neighbors. Half awake, he stumbled to the door to tell them off.
He pulled open his door. "Bones?" The scolding to died on his lips. He opened the door wider, inviting her in. He watched her as she entered, taking in the way her clothes fit like a glove even as he noticed the anger practically radiating from her. She looks so beautiful when her eyes flash like that.
Brennan stalked into his apartment, her brain still going a mile a minute. He answered the door in his boxers. I can't believe he looks so good when he just rolled out of bed, with his tousled hair and sleepy eyes. Come on, Bren, get a grip! It's not like you haven't seen good-looking men before. This thought added fuel to her anger and she turned to Booth. She pointed her finger at him and opened her mouth to yell, but no words came out.
Booth realized that Brennan was way beyond angry. An idea came to him and he motioned for her to wait a minute. Then he walked to his bedroom, pulled on sweatpants and a T-shirt and grabbed a pair for her. He tossed the clothes to Brennan and said, "I think we would both benefit from a good workout." She gaped at him momentarily and then went to his bathroom to change. Whew. I was afraid she was going to yell at me for that. I really need to get her to the gym before she starts shouting and wakes the neighbors. At least the gym is in the basement where we won't be heard or disturb anybody. I wonder what made her so angry. She was a little more worked up than usual after our argument this evening, but it can't be that. It was just one of our usual gun, driving and alpha-male tendencies arguments.
Brennan threw on the clothes Booth handed her. The smell of his aftershave and laundry detergent calmed her a bit.
When he heard the bathroom door open, he grabbed his keys from the table in the hallway and ushered her out the door of his apartment and down the stairs, hurrying to keep up with her. The gym was normally closed at this time of night so he unlocked one of the locks and picked the other quickly. Booth breathed a sigh of relief as the door closed behind him. At least now we'll have some privacy. I wonder how long it will take until she just blows up.
Brennan looked at the equipment in Booth's gym. Physical exertion is a logical response to anger. Which one of these will help me work out my anger the quickest? Deciding on the chest press, she adjusted the machine and began to work out, almost slamming the bar to the top. The movement felt good and it relieved some of her physical tension, but it did nothing to ease her emotional turmoil or calm her racing thoughts.
From his position stretching on the mat, Booth watched as she switched from the chest press to the leg press and began to exercise her legs with equal vigor. Working out with Bones is distracting. No woman should look that good in my clothes. Booth started with the bench press, glancing at her often. I don't know how much longer I'll be able to stay on the partner and friends side of our line. She's so much more than I imagined one woman could be. As he worked out, he admired her movements as she worked her way one by one through the machines that exercised the various muscle groups. This is not helping. She's still just as worked up as she was when she knocked on my door. But she looks amazing. He suppressed a groan of frustration. Stop it, you can't think about her that way; it only makes things harder… Maybe it will help if she hits something, works out her aggression.
Booth went to the closet, retrieved a couple of punching bags and set them up over the mat. "Hey Bones, how about a change of pace?" he called. Brennan looked up and said, "Sure." She began with a few punches and moved on to a variety of punching and kicking combinations. Hitting something feels good. She poured her anger into her moves and began to hit the various bags with increased force. This was a stupid idea. What was I thinking, coming to the person who made me feel this way in the first place? Just looking at him makes me angrier. I can see he's trying to help me work this out, but this is not going to be enough. She could feel him watching her, so she pummeled the bags with more and more power as her thoughts continued to whirl and emotions flooded her.
Watching the increasing intensity of her moves, Booth realized that this wasn't working either. "Bones… do you want to talk about it?" he asked cautiously.
"No," she spat back. She turned on him began to throw a punch in his direction. He caught her fist with his hand. "You want to spar?" he asked. At her nod, he took his stance and they began. He watched her carefully, countering her moves, and then switched from defending himself to attacking her. Brennan defended herself and started an onslaught of powerful blows. Booth quickly realized that she wasn't in control anymore. Not wanting to find out if she could really take him down as she claimed, he said, "Maybe we should stop. I'm beginning to loose steam." Another punch and a kick came his way. He blocked the punch, but her kick hit him in the stomach and he bent over with a groan.
It took Brennan a minute to register that he had spoken to her and was doubled over in pain. She dropped her offensive stance. "Working out isn't helping," she ground out.
"I can see that. Which is why I asked if you wanted to talk about it," he panted. He stood up painfully. "I'm going to have a huge bruise from that last kick of yours. At least it was my stomach and not my eye. Imagine having to explain a black eye to Cullen in the morning." He laughed lightly hoping that a little humor would help.
Her anger blazed and he felt its full force directed at him. She poked him firmly in the chest. This is all your fault," she yelled.
Booth was confused. He began to rack his brain for anything that he might have done to upset her this much, but couldn't come up with a single thing. "My fault? What did I do?"
"You looked at me," she said in an accusatory tone.
Booth gave a tight laugh. Now she's not even making sense. "Um, Bones? I look at you regularly. Making eye contact with the person you're talking to is a normal part of communication."
Booth mentally braced himself for a tirade, hoping that it would make more sense than her last sentence. To his surprise she wilted to the floor and began to sob. He sat down next to her, wrapped his arms around her, and waited for her tears to abate. When she turned in his arms, he pulled her onto his lap, and rocked back and forth gently.
Although he wasn't glad that she was crying, Booth reveled in the feeling of embracing Brennan. This feels so right. I can't believe she's letting me hold her like this. I've never seen her so emotional – full-blown anger to tears in one night. She's even beautiful when she cries. He felt her sobs slow and he breathed a small sigh of relief. He stopped moving and wondered if she would be angry with him again when she realized that he was holding her.
Eventually Brennan's body couldn't handle the intensity of her emotions anymore. She became of aware of her surroundings and her thoughts settled. Being in Booth's arms feels so good. He's probably confused. I know that I am. What do we do now? I can't go back to the way things were. He's too far under my skin and inside my walls. I don't think I could ever get him back outside my walls; he was too persistent in trying to break them down.
She must be thinking awfully hard since she hasn't chastised me for holding her yet. Booth tightened his grip on her just a bit. I don't want to let go. I think I could hold her in my arms like this forever and it still wouldn't be enough. Whoa, buddy. I have to stop thinking like that. She doesn't see me that way and if I don't stop I'll ruin what we already have.
Brennan's thoughts continued in a more logical pattern than they had all evening. Since going back isn't an option, what are my choices? I could try to get Goodman to stop sending me in the field or I could ask for a new partner. I could try and get a new job somewhere else and move. I wouldn't see Booth as often, or at all. I would miss him, but it would be safe. He wouldn't understand and he would probably be hurt. Or, I could tell him how I feel and see what happens. I know he cares about me. He's my friend; I've told him more of my secrets than anyone and he hasn't left me yet. But he's never indicated that he sees me as more than a friend. I need to think about this some more.
As Brennan started to move, Booth opened his arms and let her go. They both stood up. He wanted to ask her about what happened, but was afraid that he would disturb the delicate emotional balance she had achieved in the past few minutes. He wasn't sure he could handle much more. Like normal, he put his hand to her back and guided her toward the door.
The light touch of his hand on her back sent pleasant chills through her body. Instead of ignoring them, as she usually did, or chalking them up to his alpha male possessive instincts, she now recognized they were a small sign of her feelings about him which she had previously disregarded. Perhaps I could get an answer to my question about his feelings for me by observation. Certainly I've spent plenty of time observing him, trying to understand how he reads people so well.
Booth ushered Brennan back into his apartment. "Bones, would you like some water?" he asked. "After that workout, I'm totally parched." At her nod, he went to the kitchen and poured two large glasses of water. When he returned, Brennan was sitting on his couch obviously still deep in thought. He wondered what was so engrossing, but simply handed her the glass of water. Taking a large swallow from his own glass, he looked at the clock. It was 4AM. He was worn out both physically and emotionally by the events of the last hour and a half.
He finished off his glass of water and noticed that Brennan had as well. "Would you like some more water?" She shook her head, so he cleared the glasses away. Deciding it would be better to give her time to gain her equilibrium than to push the issue of what happened, he said, "I'm beat. I'm calling into the office to let them know I'll probably be in late, and then I'm going back to sleep," he told her from the kitchen doorway. "You're welcome to stay. I keep the guest bed made up, in case I have an unexpected guest." She acknowledged his words with a small nod.
After phoning Cullen and leaving a voicemail about arriving late, he found Brennan asleep on his couch. He grabbed a blanket and pillow from his linen closet. He shifted her head and put the pillow underneath it and carefully pulled the blanket over her sleeping form. Unable to resist, he smoothed her hair back from her face and then sought his own bed. He fell asleep in the middle of wondering whether or not he should have called her office too and what in the world had upset her so much.