Sorry for the delay! bam!
By morning Angela's words had officially set in, and the doubt that she had originally kept at bay was now engulfing her.
What was she doing?
She'd moved hundreds of miles to get away from this man and now she was spending practically every evening on the phone with him for a good hour or so. It would have been one thing if the conversation had always stayed to the strictly biological, but it rarely did. To often they'd found themselves on topics of the small day to day life things. There was a new cook at the diner who didn't know how to bake the pies right. Her dry-cleaning wasn't done on time and she had to wear yoga pants to a lecture. Parker got an A on his math test. For the second day in a row she burned the roof of her mouth on a cup of coffee. He finally learned to let it cool after years of being lectured by her.
It was never a conversation of any significance, and the topic of cases or work was always casually avoided. Just small little inconsequential things that could keep them on the phone just a little longer. Now all those little things didn't seem so harmless, and when she received a text from him late the next morning asking her if she was as tired as he was, she didn't respond.
He didn't send another message that day, but later that night, shortly after nine, he did call.
'Hey, Bones. Its me. I guess I missed you or you turned in early. Um anyway... If you're not a sleep yet, call me back. And if you are asleep, I'll talk to you later. Night.'
She replayed the message several times over, but she didn't call back.
... ... . ... ... . ... ... . . ... ... ... ...
Booth woke up to find no missed calls or messages on his cellphone.
It had be over forty-eight hours and his anxiety was in full force. After her not responding to his text or voicemail on Monday, he decided to lay low on Tuesday in an effort to not seem desperate or needy, but by Wednesday his imagination was starting to run wild. She could be hurt and in the hospital. Maybe a friend or family member of someone they'd helped put away came after her. Or... Maybe she just lost her phone. Dropped it in the sink perhaps? She could just be really busy getting ready for finals. Maybe... she had grown bored with there late night talk...
Or she just didn't want to talk to him.
Around lunch time he sent her another text having been unable to ease his mind all morning.
Hey, I haven't heard from you in a while. Are you okay? You've got me a little worried...
About an hour later he was relieved to see his phone light up with a new message.
I'm fine. Just busy and I haven't been feeling well.
At the risk of looking pathetic, he sent her back an instant reply.
Sorry to hear that. Hope you feel better:)
No response came. None at all.
... ... .. ... .. . . . . ... ... ... ... ... ... ...
She had resigned herself to giving it up. That was the decision she made as she boarded the plane for DC. This thing going on with her and Booth was counter productive to what she was trying to do in Chicago, not to mention the ramifications it could cause if this too ended badly for them. When she landed she would go straight to her hotel and this time she would stay there alone. This was the mantra in her head as she carefully stowed her suitcase and took her seat.
She hadn't explained this to Booth yet, but it was all in a very thoughtful and well crafted email... That she had yet to write. She would, though. She actually had written a first draft but...
The flight attendants were now asking that all electronic devices be turned off and put away. Without thinking she reached for her phone and found the last voicemail message.
"Uh hey Bones. It's me. I know you're flying in tomorrow and we haven't talked in a while... I just wanted to know if you still felt like, you know, meeting up. Or if maybe you've changed your mind. Which is okay, too. If you could just let me know if, you know, maybe you... Or if you met someone. Or you don't want to meet up like we originally planned, we could maybe grab some coffee. Anyway, um... Angela's looking good. She's even bigger since the last time you saw her. Looks like she's ready to pop that little guy out at any moment. So, yeah. I guess just have a safe flight and I guess I'll see you when I see you. Bye, Bones."
As the message ended she felt a tap on her shoulder.
"Miss? You need to turn off and stow your phone. We're preparing for take off."
"Yes, I'm sorry," even though she knew her iphone couldn't actually disrupt the plane's take off.
"Miss? Are you alright?"
... ... . . ... ... .. . . . .. .. . . . . . .. .
He felt like idiot. Like a complete dumbass. They weren't in a relationship- they weren't even in the same state- and he got burned. He'd bought new sheets, a toothbrush, that weird kinda beer she liked and even a jumbo bag a kale chips, and she didn't even bother to return his phone call.
His team was up by twenty at the end of the fourth period, but that was doing little to lift his mood or even distract his mind.
Maybe it just wasn't as good as he thought it was. Or worse, maybe he wasn't as good as he thought he was and she had found someone else to spend her nights with. Not that she owed him anything or that they both hadn't considered what would happened if they found other people but... The thought of someone else's hands on her made him sick. Physically ill. It had when he first met her, and it still did now. This whole time he had convinced himself that he had moved on, when he was really just putting himself right though the same misery. Then to top it all off, he couldn't even justify being mad at her because she hadn't technically done anything wrong.
Goddamnit.
He bought kale chips. What was he supposed to do with those now? When he saw that darkness in her eyes, he should have just ran.
He got up to grab another beer from the kitchen, but then almost as if it were timed, he heard a knock on the door. Without a second thought he knew it was the one he'd been waiting for. The one that only minutes ago he'd been telling himself he would ignore even if it did ever come.
Still like a moth to a flame, he found himself opening the door.
... .. ... ... . . . ... ... .. . . . ... ..
About thirty minutes outside of DC, her cool and rational exterior broke down. While waiting in line to use the plane's lavatory. She had overheard a conversation between a family, and nearly broke down.
The family was discussing all the tourist destinations the would visit when they arrived at the the capital; the White House, the Lincoln Memorial, the Vietnam.
"Are we going to the museum with the mummies?" The girl no older than ten asked.
Her mother smiled softly at her, "No, we won't have time. But there's lots of other museums we can go to."
"But I wanted to see the mummies. We studied them in school this year and I've already seen pictures and I wasn't even grossed out or scared!"
Her mother took her hand, "That museum had an accident recently and someone was hurt very badly. So now might not be a good time to go."
"Did they die?"
"Yes they did. So we're not going to go there this time. Okay?"
"Okay..."
Her chest had felt tight, and while she wanted to argue with this woman that the Jeffersonian was as secure a place as any of their other destinations and that with her daughter's interest in science would be an extremely valuable experience... But she just couldn't. More than anything she wanted to just turn around and lean herself into a warm body and have his strong arms wrap around her.
When the flight landed a short while later, she found herself moving almost like a ghost through the airport. Instead of getting on the shuttle to take her to rental car, she found herself in the backseat of a cab reciting an address she knew very well.
The moment she opened the door, her mouth was harshly meeting his. One hand weaving through his hair and another hooked around his back as his hands territorially grabbed her hips. They moved quickly, barely making to the couch before collapsing on top of one another. Shirts were soon lost and Brennan was well on her way to creating a hicky on his neck.
And that's when his phone rang.
He reached down in his pocket to silenced the thing, but a moment he ignored the call, it rang again.
"Booth, no," she protested. The first words she'd spoken.
"They'll just keep calling back." He accepted the call, "Booth."
"Angela's water just broke."
Soo... review now:)