A.N. You did it, guys! You sent me over 100 reviews! AHHH!! Ok, here's chapter 7. Hope this one lives up to your standards!

Chapter 7
It's All about Talk

"Ok, well… See you tomorrow!" Brennan said, pressing the elevator button.

"What do you mean? I thought we had to... not talk about work."

"And the best way to do so is by not talking at all."

"But Sweets said…"

"We never agree with Sweets."

He kept quiet, so she turned to him.

"You're taking his side?" she asked, surprised.

"No! Never. I'm just…"

They avoided each other's eyes. Until Booth spoke again.

"Maybe we should try. We could go to my place and… hang out."

He sounded like a 14 year-old.

"Fine," she abdicated.

The elevator door opened, when it hit her.

"Wait! We can't go yet."

"Did you forget something?"

"No. I'm…" She had to find an excuse to buy some time. "… hungry."

"I have food in my fridge, you know?"

"Yes, I know. But…"

What was up with her?

"We'll eat some snacks, then I'll cook you dinner. Whatever you want."

He really wanted her to accept.

"Come on! You had lunch not even two hours ago. You can't be that hungry!"

2 hours?

"What time is it?"

Booth checked his watch.

"It's almost 3 h 30."

Oh! They had told her everything would be in place in the early afternoon. They should be done, right?

"Ok, then." And she followed him.

***

They turned the corner in the hall and saw two guys coming out of Booth's apartment, closing the door. Booth immediately reached for his gun. Brennan stopped him.

"Booth, no! They were only there for a delivery." The two men passed them on their way out, unaware of who they even were.

"In my apartment? You know about this?"

"I gave them the key…" she admitted.

"You what? Bones!"

"I'm sorry!" she pleaded. "But they are professionals. They do that all the time."

"That's not the point," he said, opening the door. "I'm a federal agent! You don't let just anybody in my house when I'm not there!"

She followed him, apologizing again, while he went on and on about the dangers of deliverymen and something about how she should never…

But then he saw it. Hanging on the wall. It was taking the whole wall. He dropped his keys on the floor. Brennan picked them up and put them on a table next to the one left behind by the movers.

"Do you forgive me, now?" she asked him.

He was in awe, mouth open, blinking every few seconds.

"That's… mine?"

"Yes. That's why I had it delivered here."

"But that's worth at least $5,000. I know you're rich, but I can't accept this. Though I might, because really, really want to."

"Don't worry about that. You were right, I was never using it. I know you will."

He turned to her.

"You mean… that's the one Cal gave you?"

She didn't understand why it was important, but answered anyway.

"Yes."

"Isn't he gonna be furious you gave it away?"

"He gave it to me. Why should he care what I do with it? Besides, Cal doesn't get mad."

Booth looked at the giant flat screen again.

"So… This TV, right here, is here to stay? You're never, ever, ever gonna take it back?"

She smiled at his childish tone.

"All yours."

He took her by surprise and hugged her tightly. She was about to hug him back when he spun around, all excited.

"Thank you, Bones! Parker is gonna be thrilled! Wow! His cartoons are gonna be life-size!"

Her hands on her hips, she said, "You mean, your cartoons are gonna be life-size."

"Oh yeah, baby! I can't believe it. Your birthday is coming up and you're getting me a gift. Does it work?" he asked, excitedly. He took the remote and turned it on.

"I hope so. I paid for a full installation, so, your DVD and your dated VHS players should both work with it."

It took a second for the image to take over the black screen. He watched the screen while she watched him. She loved making him happy.

***

Sweets was looking for them in the diner. It was really crowded for a Friday afternoon. He finally spotted Angela waving at him. He made it was to the table.

"So! Did you talk to them?" Cam asked.

The psychologist sat down.

"Yes. I firmly advised them to get their act together."

Hodgins almost spit out his soda.

"You firmly advised?"

"I strong…ish-ly recommended they should… talk."

Angela put her two cents in.

"You didn't make them talk? I thought that was the point of therapy."

"You know as well as I do that if I had forced them to talk, they would have turned all this into a big joke. I've seen it too many times. When confronted to a higher authority…"

"You're the higher authority?" Hodgins let out. After a sigh, Sweets decided to ignore him.

"… they shut everyone out and it seems like they get on the same page, but it doesn't get them anywhere. They have to be alone to break through."

Angela intervened. "But Brennan doesn't like to talk."

"And Booth is even worse," Cam added.

"Well, what do you want me to say?" Sweets asked. "Maybe it will never happen."

"Oh! It will happen." Hodgins disagreed.

"I just wish she'd realize she's using Cal to get Booth jealous," Angela exhaled loudly.

"Maybe she really likes the guy," Sweets proposed.

Cam, Hodgins and Angela turned to him. He felt little. And a little terrified.

"Or!" he tried to recover. "Maybe she's using him to prove something."

He was safe. They all stopped looking at him.

Angela took Hodgins' drink.

"But what she's doing is pointless. Callister is never around. And she never talks about him. I failed her. I should have taught her better than this."

"Callister," Hodgins mocked. "At least that one didn't try to kill her."

"Or killed own brother."

"She should have stuck with Sully. That one got Booth sweating."

The waitress gave them a mean look, probably because they were too loud. They laughed even louder.

***

"Here." Booth handed her the remote, as if it was the most precious thing in the world. "I'm gonna get us some beer. Look through my video collection, you should find a copy of the first Star Wars."

"You really want to watch those movies right now?"

"Not all of them!" he said. "Just one. Then I'll make dinner."

He saw on her face that she wasn't too sure she wanted to watch it.

"Or we can sit and talk."

"Star Wars it is!"

She looked for his collection. She hated going through his stuff. She felt like she was intruding. But she found it quickly. She took the tape, slid it into the VHS player and pressed play.

The movie began right away. No previews or old fashioned opening credits. The sound really wasn't great. She tilted her head.

"I thought you said Star Wars was a science-fiction!" she shouted so he would hear.

"It is!"

"Does it start with a mascot running around?"

"Chewbacca is not a mascot. Maybe I forgot to rewind the tape the last time I…"

Booth saw what was on the TV. And it wasn't Star Wars. He set the beers on the coffee table and tried to turn it off. But she was in the way.

"Bones, that's not… Turn it off."

"Hey! Is that… Is that you?"

He sighed.

"Please turn it off."

"It is you! You can't be more than 17! What is that movie?"

He finally succeeded in pressing pause directly onto the player.

"That's not Star Wars. You took the wrong tape."

"But it's written on the box that this is all the Star Wars movies…"

"Gimme that…" He took the empty case. And read the label. "It says All Star Championship. Can't you read?" he laughed and found the real movie. He went to put it in.

"No! Booth! I wanted to watch that other thing!"

"It's a basketball game. You wouldn't like it."

She looked so disappointed he felt a pinch in his chest.

"Please," she almost begged. "Then we can tell Sweets we learned about each other, and he'll leave us alone."

As if.

"Come on," she insisted. "I showed you my mother's tape."

She wasn't one to use the dead mom card. So it really was important to her.

"Don't mock me," he ordered and pressed play.

They sat on the sofa.

Younger Booth was running around, like a pro, shooting and scoring every time. After one particular basket, the camera zoomed on him. He smiled brightly, and waved at the camera.

Brennan put a hand over her mouth. She wasn't allowed to laugh.

"You can mock the hair," Booth said.

She looked at him. "You were good," she stated.

"Told you."

"Thanks for letting me watch this," she said, turning to the screen again.

He was embarrassed. Back then, at 16, he was a tall, scrawny kid, with way too much confidence for his own good.

"Are you sure you want to watch all the game? We lost that one," he said.

"Shhh."

Guess she does.

***

"First thing tomorrow, I gotta stop by the Bureau to get that list of…"

"No work talk, remember?" she warned him, pointing the big knife in his direction.

"Right. Pass me the chicken?"

She handed him the grilled poultry, on which he added the homemade bruschetta mix.

She sprinkled it with fresh parmesan and he put it in the oven for another 5 minutes.

"We make a great team," she said.

"That's what they say." They smiled and clinked their beer bottles together.

They didn't really talk until the oven timer went off. The silence was not uncomfortable, just mostly annoying. So Brennan decided to ask him.

"Why don't you ever introduce me to your girlfriends?"

Booth, who had just taken his first bite of the delicious bruschetta chicken skillet, tried not to choke.

Come again?

"I… What are you talking about?" He remembered just in time that it was not true. "You've met Tessa."

"Right… But that was like three years ago and I met her because I dropped by your place unannounced. Otherwise, I wouldn't have even known she existed."

"… There's no particular reason. I just don't like to mix my private life with my work life."

"So… you're saying that I'm only work related? That I have no business in your personal life?"

"No! Of course not! We're here together and we don't talk about work," he pointed out.

"Because Sweets asked us not to."

The truth was… he hadn't dated anyone worth introducing her to. It was never serious enough. He couldn't let her feel like she was just a colleague to him, so he tried to explain.

"The truth is…" He put down his fork. "Women are competitive. And… they hate competition."

"Competitive people love competition."

"Yes. Normally. But women are complicated."

"I'm not complicated!" she interjected.

"Oh! You are. More than you think. But that's not the point."

She thought she understood.

"Is it because I have a superior intelligence and that I would make them uncomfortable?"

"That's probably part of it, yes. You know. And you're… I mean, you're this…" Just say it already! "You're this incredibly beautiful woman I work with every day. Most women wouldn't really like that."

He saw it. She blushed. He squirmed on his chair a little.

"So… you've had girlfriends after Tess," she recapitulated.

"Of course! I'm not a monk!"

She watched him dig through his food. She squinted. Did he just lie? Guess she would never know.

***

It was almost 8 pm. She had just sat on one of the stools when something brightly colorful on the fridge caught her eyes.

"Hey, what's this?" she asked, walking up to it.

Evidently, it was a drawing. Two people, one wearing a tie and a huge gun, the other wearing what slightly resembled a dark blue lab coat, were standing hand in hand. They looked like they were floating, not really touching the ground, under the huge yellow sun.

Booth took the magnet off of it and handed it to her.

"It's us, can't you tell?"

"Us?"

"Yes…"

As she took the sheet, their fingers brushed. She looked up at him. She was surprised that his son would choose to include her. They looked eyes and Booth said,

"Parker made it at school."

She looked again at the two characters holding hands. They looked happy.

"He told me that it was us after we arrested a bad guy. He said that he tried to draw a skeleton, but that it didn't look real."

"He is aware that the proportions are way off, right? That if the sun was that close to Earth, life would be impossible?"

Booth took it back.

"It's a little boy's creative drawing, Bones, not a photograph for the National Geographic!"

"He's very talented," she rectified.

"Thank you."

"Why are you thanking me? I didn't compliment you."

He just smiled at her and handed her the art piece.

"He asked me to give it to you."

"To me?"

"Yes. He even signed his name on the back."

She turned the page over.

"To: Dr. Bones. From: Parker Booth," she read.

She felt her eyes starting to sting and her nose tickled lightly. She smiled to make the weird sensation go away.

"Thank him for me, ok?"

She carefully rolled the drawing and walked up to the coat hanger to put it in her pocket. The almost tears were gone now, so she returned to the kitchen to help with the dishes.

***

Walking up to her apartment door, fumbling with her keys to find the right one, she realized she was smiling to herself. Even though they had kind of been forced into this evening, she had had a great time. She even, for a while, had forgotten all about the fact that the case was still far from resolved. She had, for a moment, stopped asking herself why she wasn't able to do her job anymore. Why the bones didn't talk to her like they used to. Why she had almost cried when they had told those poor parents that their little girls would never come home again. These past few weeks, months even, emotions were flooding over her. Her life, which was usually so easy to compartmentalize, was starting to get messy. She couldn't recognize herself anymore. And she was scared out of her mind.

She finally found the right key and looked up. That's when she saw him, sitting on the floor, next to her door.

"Cal?" Was he stalking her now? Of course something had to be wrong with him! "How long have you been sitting there?"

He got onto his feet.

"Half an hour, maybe? I was about to leave, I was starting to think you had forgotten about me coming to town for the weekend."

Her face probably gave it away, because his voice changed.

"You had forgotten about me. Great."

She unlocked the door. Feeling ashamed and stupid.

"I'm sorry," she murmured. "Come in."

He put his hands in his pockets. He wanted to leave. But he came in anyway.

"I'm so sorry. We've been swamped at work and…"

"I called your office, you weren't there."

"I never said I was."

She took off her coat and Parker's drawing fell to the floor. Cal picked it up, not without taking a look at it.

"That's cute," he said with a smile. "Is this you?"

"Of course, can't you tell?" she said on the same tone Booth had said it. "Parker made it for me. He said I had just arrested a bad guy, apparently."

"Who's Parker?"

"Booth's son."

Apparently, she had just said the wrong thing, because he dropped the drawing on the table and sighed. Loudly.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing." He turned around, wondering how long he could try to pretend he didn't know what was going on. He figured he would try to be understanding for a little while longer. He knew Temperance Brennan was not like other women. And he really wanted them to work. But then he saw something was missing on the wall and prayed he didn't already know why.

"Where's your TV? Was it defective?"

The old Brennan would have immediately said the truth, without even having to think about it. But she struggled with her answer. Booth had warned her about this.

"I…" She took a deep breath and blurted out the rest. "… gave it to a friend."

This is almost funny! Cal thought. He knew who she had given it to. And he had no right to be mad. It was a gift to her; she could do whatever she wanted with it. Right? Right. But he didn't have to take it anymore.

"We need to talk," he said, his head down.

Brennan froze. Angela had told her what that meant. She knew what he was about to do. A mix of emotions came crashing down on her.

"You're breaking up with me," she stated.

He looked at her.

"I really like you," he said.

What was she supposed to say now? She had never been good at this.

"I like you, too. But you're breaking up with me?"

"I don't think you're really into me."

"You can't know that. It is impossible to know how another person feels."

"Yes, it is. Sometimes, it's obvious."

She bit her lips together and put her hands in her back pockets.

"Is it because I didn't sleep with you?" she tried to understand.

"God, no! How could you say that?"

She didn't know what else to say. She shrugged and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Temperance, you've got to be honest with yourself. Even our kisses felt robotic, we aren't made for each other."

Robotic? Seriously? No one had ever complained about her kissing technique before! That comment stung more than she could admit. She tried to sting back.

"You're one of those mushy people who believe in the ridiculous notion of soul mates?"

He didn't flinch.

"I don't know. But what I do believe is that there's something more, and that we're both missing out."

Her cell phone rang. Great timing. Cal sighed and shifted on his feet while she took a look at her caller ID. It was Angela. She pressed ignored, though she really, really wanted the distraction of her best friend's voice.

"Booth's your real boyfriend," Cal dropped.

Taken aback, she frowned and disagreed vehemently.

"No, he's not!"

"He is. I'm just some guy you hang out with when you got time."

"Why does Booth always have to become an issue with you?"

"Because he's the most important person in your life."

Who was he to judge her? He had no right to… GAH!!

"So you're breaking up with me because I work with Booth?"

"I'm breaking up with you because you don't realize he's more than just your partner."

She felt the urge to kick him out. Figuratively speaking. And litteraly, too. She was pissed as hell! Tears were starting to well up in her eyes, but they were made from rage and nothing else. She. Was. Fed. Up.

"I told you! Over and over and over again! We. Work together. And we are friends. And nothing else! I'm so sick of everyone thinking otherwise!"

"If everyone thinks you're together, maybe you should try to take another look at yourselves." He took the drawing Booth's son had made for her. "Even a little boy can see what's right in front of him."

She laughed through the shock, throwing her hands in the air. She shook her head. There was nothing else she could do.

"You need to get over him. Or on him. But you can't just ignore it anymore. You won't be happy as long as you do."

The door shut behind him.

Quietly, she took Parker's drawing and hung it on her fridge. She stood there, looking at it. It's a little boy's creative drawing, Bones, not a photograph for the National Geographic! Right. A creative drawing straight from his imagination.

She shut her eyes tightly. What she… felt… for Booth, sometimes, on occasion… There was no way he felt it too. They were a great team. They were great as they were. And there was a line. That didn't need to be there. But that maybe someone should draw again. As a reminder.