Author's note: Soo, I was kind of inspired today and decided to go with the next chapter. Sadly, this one is pretty short, but after I wrote this two scenes, my muse sort of ran away and I really felt like just posting the chapter instead of waiting for the muse to come back. Besides, it's better than nothing, right? ;) About the Sully thing, I got two votes in favor and one against – which, in addition to the other vote against, makes two. So, two-two so far. You're welcome to keep voting, of course, lol. Enjoy! And review. And don't go to bed at 3am, it's bad for your system. Oh, oh. And let me know if there are some spelling mistakes 'cause I really didn't get a chance to read through the chapter properly.

—

"Seeley Booth, you son of a bitch."

Perplexed, he watches his ex-girlfriend slide into the seat across of him. "What—Hannah, what the hell?" People in the diner, including several waitresses he sees every day, are staring shamelessly at them. He feigns a smile as he glances back at a few of them, politely telling tell to fuck off.

"Hey!" She snaps two fingers in front of him, pulling his attention back to her, blue fire staring him down as he meets her gaze again. "You didn't tell her?!" Jesus, she's fuming, smoke practically soaring from her tanned skin. "It's been weeks, Seeley, and you still didn't tell her? I mean how—how did you even manage to hide the truth from her? From everybody? What the hell is wrong with you?"

Oh. In the span of a second, his expression shifts from angry to extremely guilty. "I, I don't—"

She scoffs, waving him off. "Oh, don't you dare say that you don't know. I went to see her for God's sake. I thought that you would have done something, anything, to fix your relationship with her by now, and that I would be able to say my goodbyes properly, but instead I find out that you've been lying to her?"

Oh.

It takes several, large ounces of self-restrain for him not to raise his voice as well. "What the hell, Hannah? You went to see her?"

"Of course I did. Believe it or not, she's actually part of the tiny group of people I wanted to say goodbye to, but instead you leave it up to me to enlighten her about what a jerk you have been. Do you have any idea of the situation you just thrusted me into? A little warning would have been nice, you know."

Angrily, he throws his napkin on the table. "You shouldn't have told her," he declares through clenched teeth. "This isn't some big story waiting to be uncovered, alright? It wasn't your freakin' call to make."

"And I should have done what, wait for you to come clean?" God, the nerve of him. "I'm pretty sure you've had the chance to do that by now. Or maybe you would've preferred for me to blatantly lie to her as well?"

"Hannah—"

"For God's sake, Seeley, she thinks you love me," Hannah cuts him off, placing a hand on her chest to make her point. "During our whole conversation, and even after I had to breaks the news for her — thank you every much — you were her primary concern."

Despite him knowing better, a wishful spark takes over his eyes. "I was?"

"Oh, screw you," she bites. "You're a good guy, Seeley, but right now, you don't deserve her. Or me, for that matter. Not when you resort to lying to get through the day, for crying out loud."

"Bones found someone else, all right?" He can practically feel what little it's left of his patience flying through the window. "She's moved on. It's over."

Although a bit taken aback, one of her eyebrows quirks up as she leans back on the chair. "So? That doesn't change anything."

"Excuse me?"

"You could have told her the truth anyway."

Utterly distraught, Booth lets out a sigh. "I was going to." His eyes catch the skeptical look she's giving him, and he makes a face. "Hey, I was, okay? But then I found out about her and Sully, and … I just, I didn't seem like such a good idea anymore. I got caught up in it, I guess, and I haven't been able to get off the big fat lie train."

"Oh, please, that's utter bullshit." She leans in to the edge of the table, arms crossing as they prop her up, and adds in a murmur, "This isn't you, Seeley. Going around and lying to your friends? To her?"

"I… I know," he admits, all the guilt he's been feeling for weeks burning hot inside him.

He knows there's no excuse, he knows he's on thin ice, he knows he knows he knows.

And it's all so messed up, because he has been so close to telling her so many times—in the car, in her office, during stake-outs, at the diner—yet he's been halted, detained by his own feelings for her, the possibility of her running away from their bruised partnership fuelling his deepest fears and insecurities. Like an anchor, that horrifying prospect has kept him ashore, unable to take the plunge, choosing to be carefully dishonest instead.

God, he knows.

"Well?" Hannah drags him back, showing no mercy. "Fix it, then."

He grunts. "Dammit, Hannah, what do you want me to do?"

"Oh no. I'm not giving you any more advice on this matter. Time for your cocky brain to figure out things in its own."

Slightly amused (although he won't admit it), Booth considers her for a moment. It's not her obligation anymore, to take care of him, to guide him through difficult times. Yet here she is, trying to talk some sense into him, hitting him with tough love.

"Why are you doing this?" he asks.

She smiles, and the gesture lights up the whole damn place. "Because."

"Because what?"

"I care about you," she says with a loose shrug. "And I actually care about her, too. I'm not gonna let you screw up things twice."

"Hannah…"

"Don't do that." Her eyes drop to the table, explicitly avoiding his. "Don't say you're sorry again."

"But I am."

She forces her gaze back to him. "And I know it. People screw up, and then hopefully they learn from it, so we don't have to do that thing where we meet and then it all turns into an low budget episode from some corny soap opera."

Wisely, he laughs at her comment, then nods towards her watch. "How much time do we have?"

"Forty-two minutes," she informs him as her eyes follow his line of sight. "Fancy some pie?"

—x—

"Bones…" he trails off.

Viciously, and without even offering him a glance, she pushes the button to call for the elevator. Repeatedly. "Go away, Booth."

It's been about two hours since he got back from his lunch with Hannah, and up until three minutes ago he had been trying to come up with the best way to approach Brennan once he swung by the lab after work. Multiple scenarios had rushed through his mind, and she was as mad in the first one as she was in the last. However, Brennan had miraculously saved him both the drive to the lab and having to figure out a way to start the conversation when she showed up in his office with the results of the particulates that Hodgins had finished analyzing.

She'd been painfully clinical as she spoke to him. Never looked him in the eyes, never mentioned anything about the newly acquired information she possessed. It was a monologue from her side, really, and a very short one, too. Once she informed him about everything he needed to know to get a warrant and search the suspect's house, she spun around and left the office without looking back. He followed her, of course, calling her name through the hallway, only to be ignored by her and glares by fellow agents.

"Please, Bones." She misses his pleading eyes because her own are fixed, trained on the elevator. "Just—let's go back to my office so I can explain everything to you."

"That's not necessary."

Her impassive tone sends several shivers down his spine, but he won't give up, not on this matter, not when it's his fault to begin with.

"It is, it is," he insists. "Bones, please, will you just look at me for a second?"

And she does. She gives him the iciest glare he's ever received, a glare even more harsh than the ones she has given him during their worst, most distressful times. No need for physical violence when she's got those burning eyes. "You lied to me," she says sharply, and pushes the button again. The more she calls for it, the longer it seems to take for it to arrive.

Next to her, Booth swallows with difficulty. "I know. I'm sorry."

"I know you had Sweets lie to me, too." She not looking at him directly, but glancing from the corner of her eye.

At last, the elevator arrives, the doors opening widely before them. A couple of agents step out and Brennan steps inside with Booth following her awkwardly. A moment later, the doors shut, leaving them to have their argument alone.

"I should have told you," Booth offers, thankful for the private setting they find themselves in. "I know I should have. I'm sorry."

She chuckles, rather bitterly so. "You know what makes me really upset?" Does he want to know? Maybe, maybe not. Either way he still nods his head vaguely, regretful eyes trying to find hers. She's entirely focused on not meeting his gaze. "You're making an habit of this — of lying to me. When I told you about Sully, you told me that you already knew. I'm still not sure of how long you had been in possession of that information, but it still means you lied to me in some way."

It comes back to her, the relief she felt that day, as well as the struggle she couldn't quite comprehend. Such a foolish reaction of her, seeming as he didn't have any problems with doing the same.

"Hey, no—that's not fair. I was waiting for you to tell me."

Finally, she locks her eyes with his. "I'm your partner, Booth. Not only have we been constantly working cases for the past few weeks, but we even had a session with Sweets. You had plenty of chances to tell me about your break-up with Hannah."

He feels a sudden, unexpected (most probably, misplaced) shred of rage creeping its way to his throat. "Yeah?" he snaps. "Well, you had plenty of chances to tell me about your new-found romance with Sully as well, didn't you?"

"Wh—those are entirely different things!"

"Why?" His voices is raising along with hers, his feet taking him literally one step forward. "Because you've decided so? Because it's inconvenient? I thought we were finally coming clean here."

Her jaw actually drops upon hearing his words. "You lied directly to me, Booth." Her voice is ramming into every single word, the emphasis in her syllables serving as a way to damper her anger. "There weren't any omissions from your side, just plain lies." She shakes her head, still astonished at his behaviour. "And Sully is… I don't—I don't see the need to bring him up to begin with."

"Oh yeah?" The corners of his mouth curl up into an arrogant grin. "Well, I take it you don't even know why he came back in the first place." He usually knows better, but right now, he simply doesn't.

"As a matter of fact, I do," she's quick to retort. It's not until a second later that she picks up on her partner's sudden rush of confidence. Blue eyes widen, and pink lips part in disbelief. Sully has told her that only a selected group of people know about the reason behind his return, and Booth is not among them. That leave only one alternative … but it can't be. He wouldn't. "How do you … did you—you did a background check on him?"

Damn it, sometimes he wishes she didn't have so much insight into the bureau.

A sigh escapes his lips, his stomach twisting. But he promised himself: no more lies. "Look, Bones, before you say anything, you need to und—"

"So it's true? You ran Sully through the system?" All of a sudden, her cheeks are on fire. Hell, her whole body is on fire. "I can't believe you."

"Okay, listen, Bones," he begs her. "There's a case, alright, and I had to kn—"

"Stay out of this, Booth!" Her finger is ramming furiously against his chest, causing him to stumble back a few steps. "You have nothing to do with it."

The elevator doors swing open as they arrive to the bottom floor, and she marches out with a huff, the pace of her walk increasing with every step she takes. Booth follows her out of the elevator, but she's way ahead of him.

"I'm your partner!" he shouts, a foul attempt to get her attention.

She spins around, the words tripping over her lips before she can swallow them back: "And that's where it ends!"

As if per cue, he freezes on the spot, mouth suddenly dry. There's nothing else than truth in what she says — partners is what they have always been. The amount of times they both have made that same statement to others is uncountable. Partners, nothing more than partners. Strictly professional. Associates. Still, there is something extremely painful about her practically shooting the same statement from the rooftops. A statement carved in stone now tearing his soul apart.

They stand in silence for a moment. Bottom lip caught between her teeth, she immediately regrets the harshness in her words. He clenches his fist until his fingernails are raking onto the palm of his hand, knuckles nearly white.

"He left you, okay?" Booth mutters at last.

Despite the distance between them, she hears him clearly, but her brain fails to make the alleged connection. "What are you talking about?"

"Four years ago, he left you. Sully left you."

Comprehension dawning on her, Brennan gives him a sad smile, the first one since she arrived to his office. "He didn't … he didn't leave me, Booth. I chose to stay. It was entirely my decision." A heartbeat, then, "You should know that better than anyone."

He scoffs, skeptical to her statement. "And why would that be?"

"Because…" she begins, voice faltering as she stretches her arms to the sides, then lets them fall down along with her defeat. "Because you were there."

And then, he sees it. The hurt in her liquid blue eyes, the sting of betrayal swirling in them. She's standing right in front of him, reminding him of the day he drove to the harbour and watched her stick to one of the most difficult decision she has ever made. It was her choice. She stayed, because it was for the best, just as she turned him down in the hope that her actions would protect him. If that isn't the pure concretization of an open heart, then what the hell is?

It's not until that moment that Booth allows himself to take a look around, feeling sick to his stomach due to the number of agents and civilians that have gathered around them. Hannah's words echo inside his head. Maybe she was right. Maybe he doesn't deserve Brennan, not if he has managed to inflict so much pain on her, on their relationship.

Terrified of his own actions, he takes a step back. "I'm really sorry, Bones," he says in a whisper. As he reenters the elevator, their eyes meet again. She has the same look on her face that she had over a year ago, when she, wiping away the tears from her cheeks, had murmured the words he would come to resent later.

Can we still work together?