Monday morning came just like it always did, with an endless line of traffic in his way to another day full of work. Other than the constant headache and heavy heart by the events of the previous day, the weekend had run smoothly by him and the loneliness of his empty apartment.
He finally reached the building and, already anticipating a colossal pile of files and paperwork by his desk, he sighed heavily while entering the elevator. The cramped space did nothing to burn away the crushing feeling inside his chest. At night her infuriated face paraded in his vision and haunted his monochromatic dreams. During the day her voice pierced his ears and accompanied him in his daily journey.
He could still hear and feel, as vivid as in that day, every syllable she proffered and how they settled in his heart, the weight of the words almost unbearable.
After four years of working together he forgotten to build his own defensive walls and, naively, let himself open to her raving rages and powerful accusations once in a while.
Time after time, they would banter, but he had come to enjoy it, because for him, they were nothing more than a friendly exchange of heated feelings and release of tension. Unfortunately, one of the sides had to come hurt from their little probes for dominance. Usually, it was him. He was used to take it all in and swallow his pride and take some time, because he had come to gradually know her, and his mind already formed excuses to her behavior. In the end he would always let their arguments slip by, forgiven but not forgotten.
There was always a single drop of water that would make the buckle overflow. He recognized his limit and pushed it a little further every time. It could not be pushed any longer this time.
Her accusations, heavy, made the emotions in his heart break through the cracks it had because of the numerous blows it had taken along the years. Diverse feelings flooded freely in his blood like a wild emotional torrent.
The ring of the elevator turned it all into a reality. He was already in this floor and rushed with the motion people to the outside. At ten in the morning he was already turning the knob of his office door and being greeted by the unexcited mass of paper waiting for him.
With a sigh he let his feet walk to the other side of the desk and his massive weight slumped in the well worn chair without elegancy.
He ran one hand along his face in a faint hope to drive away all the thoughts of her and gain focus on the task he had ahead for the day.
His stomach disagreed. When he had last eaten? Yesterday? He couldn't remember, for his breakfast today consisted only in a cup of black coffee bearable worth of that name.
Sighing again his eyes finally opened to face the papers in his front when a small piece of square white caught his attention. His hand took hold of it and brought it a little closer to his vision while his lips silently formed the words written there.
I would be dead. Several times.
I wouldn't eat regularly or even go home on time.
I wouldn't have a family. No father nor brother.
No one to call me Bones.
Temperance
A large smile brightened his face when the recognition of the apology sank in. It was the response to the question he let hanging in the air by her office.
"No one to call me Bones." He barely said, his voice coming out in a whisper.
How could he be annoyed with this woman, when she probably had ran all the possible ways to apologize to him and came face to face with the one she knew best? He knew her too well.
Even though the hurt in his heart was still evident, the words still pierced his ears.
She had recognized her mistake and probably how much it hurt him. Stubborn as she was, he would never expect this.
"You've come a long way, Bones." He said, never averting his eyes from the small paper in his hand. He took pride in it and in her attempt to reach for him again.
It was time to evaluate their situation. Would they be good now after what seemed to be their first real fight? He had no doubt they would, they had come a long way and learned from each other's mistakes, this time he would allow her time. He recognized he had forced her into unknown ground, pushing her to her limits when she so obviously was scared by them, but at the time he had been caught in the fear and the worry for her well being that he didn't realize he was hurting her too.
He was sure that, like the previous times, she would reach for him, whenever she was ready, and confide in him her worries. He just hoped that that time would come soon, or he feared that she would slowly drift away from him and hide.
'She just needs time.' He reassured himself.
Taking another breath he reached for his cell phone and dialed a familiar number. After four rings the voice in the other side of line answered in the distinct female voice of his partner.
"Brennan."
"Hi there, Bones. How have you been?" He asked tentatively.
"Hello Booth. I'm fine, thank you." He heard the tingle of politeness in her voice only to be bashed in the ground by her blunt self once again. "Did you get my note?"
He suppressed a chuckle but couldn't restrain his mind from the possessive thought that it formed. 'That's my Bones.'
"What note?" His voice came devoid of emotion on purpose. "I didn't get anything."
"Are you sure? I was sure that your secretary would send it to you as I insisted." She sounded disappointed now and her voice had lowered an octave. He heard a ruffle of sounds from the other side, and immediately pictured her fidgeting with the line of her office's phone.
"I'm just teasing you, Bones, of course I got your note." A chuckle erupted in his chest as he reclined in the chair and all the tension of the previous days washed away with her outraged response.
"Booth!"And despite her attempt to remain annoyed she laughed softly. "You know I'm not good at these things, it took a certain amount of will to write that." Her sigh came to his ear, soft as a whisper, and a shiver ran up his spine and settled in the base of the skull.
"I know, and thank you. I know what you meant, but you know what?" It was time to face his own mistake. "I wasn't being fair when I asked you that. I know you're an independent woman that can take care of herself –"
"That wasn't what I was trying to say…" She cut him mid sentence.
"I know, but you've got to do better than that."
"But Booth... That was the best I could do, please understand that." Once again the fidgeting in the other side.
"No, no, no. You can do so much better, Bones. You can offer me pie." A grin erupted in his features as he waited for an answer.
"Very well, Special Agent Seeley Booth," She sighed in mocking exasperation. "Will you go to the Diner with me for a slice of pie and coffee?"
"I'd love to. I'll be there in ten minutes." When about to hang the phone he heard a hurried intake of breath and sensed the tension in her probably seating position.
"Are… Are we good, Booth?" The words sounded unstable in the phone and he wondered if it was some sort of line interference of just the fear bottled in her question.
"We will be, Bones." He softly responded.
With that he closed his phone and returned it to his pocked, picked up the slice of paper and folded it neatly inside his wallet, a remembrance token of their arrival at a safe port after a sailing in troubled and dark waters. They would be just fine, but in the back of his mind the concern for her never left. He would keep a close eye on her as he always did.
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