Title: Collide

Disclaimer: They're not mine.

Rating: T now. M later.

A/N: I hope everyone will enjoy reading this story. Jaed? Have you had a fight with the Internet? You better get your butt back online because I miss talking to you. And Gayle, we need to catch up! Thanks to everyone who has been reviewing not only this story but all my stories!

-o-o-o-

I'm open, you're closed
Where I follow, you'll go
I worry I won't see your face
Light up again…

"Knock, knock," he said aloud, tapping his fingers against the glass. She barely looked up, rearranging papers into piles, as systematic and organised as ever. "Angela said you're feeling a little sad today so I brought you some calorie indulgence in the form of hot chocolate." He held the disposable cup in the air, offering her a cheeky, normally disarming grin as he did. "With marshmallows and cream." Brennan gathered her pens together, dropping them into her desk tidy with a series of clicks.

"Why would hot chocolate offer anyone any comfort?" she asked, her tone breezy. "And Angela has no business spreading… what is it you call it… gossip?" Booth sighed, leaving the cup of her desk. She caught the scent of chocolate and fought the urge to inhale it.

"She's just worried about you. Especially when she came by to see if you're okay and you gave her nadda in return." Temperance felt her stomach knot, knowing that she'd been perhaps a little too abrupt with her best friend earlier. She found it difficult to open the gates of her emotions when she had spent so much time in her life ignoring her feelings. In fact she was fairly certain that the lever which opened her emotional floodgates had rusted away.

"Been discussing this in depth, have you?" she asked, shaking off her lab coat. Booth pressed his palm against her desk, bracing his weight awkwardly. She slid her arms into her coat, buttoning it down. "I'm going home," she said, taking a pile of manila folders into her hands, tucking them beneath her arm.

"You forgot your hot chocolate," Booth said, following behind, taking the cup. As she made her way along the airy corridors he stayed only a few paces behind. "Angela thinks you're pissed because of Rebecca." Brennan felt a chuckle rise in her throat and was all too aware that it was forced. She didn't feel like laughing about anything.

"And Dr Saroyan too?" she asked, a touch of icy sarcasm evident in her otherwise impassive tone.

"Well are you?" Booth asked, barely missing a beat. He wasn't sure how she knew about Camille, but the fact that she did caused a sweep of irritation to radiate through his body. Was nothing a secret within the walls of the Jeffersonian?

"Am I what, Booth?" she asked, decidedly bored. Rummaging in her pocket, she located her keys and jingled the rings together, her pace quickening.

"Pissed about Rebecca. And Camille?" The front doors breezed open, sending a chilly autumn breeze into the foyer. Brennan raked her fingers through her hair, shaking her head. Her scoffing laughter, bitter and resentful, was lost to his ears, merging only with the wind. The sky was already dark, only a glimmer of blue still remained. "Are you jealous, Bones? Do you want to sleep with me too?" He wanted to hurt her, and she knew it. He hated that she refused to open up to him. Booth liked to read the inner workings of everyone's mind. Sometimes, she kept her thoughts locked in a vice-grip and he got frustrated when he couldn't penetrate the ice coated steel. He tossed the hot chocolate into the trash can and the lid popped, splashing milky brown liquid across the asphalt.

Brennan spun. "Oh Booth," she said, her tone flawlessly smooth. "I wouldn't want to become another notch on the ever growing list of notches on your bed post. But if there ever is a point when I am that desperate, you'll be the first one to know." She rolled her eyes, signalling her sarcasm. "Until then, Dr Saroyan can be safe in the knowledge that you're all hers," she paused, "and occasionally Rebecca's." Booth looked as though she'd back-handed him across the cheek, his eyes round and wide.

"Uncalled for, Bones," he said. "Besides, I don't see how my personal relationships effect you. We have an excellent working relationship. But that's it." It felt as though he'd tore a knife through her chest. Not her heart, though. No one had the ability to break her heart. She'd ensured it was damned near impossible when she was younger, being tossed from one foster family to another. Apparently she looked stricken, though, for he immediately began to hesitate. "What I mean is… we're working together under a professional contract and…" she lifted her hand, palm up, silencing him.

"I have to go. I'll see you tomorrow." Her long legs carried her across the parking lot with long strides, her muscles fuelled by anger. Either he was propositioning her with sex or he was making fun of her, either way, she felt a surge of fury that swelled inside her chest, making her breathe heavier. She was losing her calm, and the longer she dwelled on his words, the angrier she got.

Unlocking her car, she stamped down on the urge to turn around, to see if he was still watching. Curiosity scorched, but she refused to acknowledge it. These days she'd been finding herself a little too involved with Seeley Booth. She wasn't sure when, in her mind, their relationship had taken a personal turn. At least on her part. But suddenly, she was reading into the linger glances and willing her heart to be still.

Starting her car, she reversed, catching a glimpse of Booth in her rear-view mirror. Beside him, Dr Saroyan stood, hands on her hips, shaking her head. Brennan clicked her tongue, flicking on the radio and pressing her foot hard to the accelerator. When she met Booth she had always known he had a certain about of sexual power, but she never imagined him to be a Casanova.

Curling her fingers tight around the steering wheel, she wished there were someone impartial that she could discuss her feelings with. Someone who didn't know Booth. But everyone, even Russ, knew about their relationship. Or lack thereof.

The radio blasted oldie rock and roll and she tried to lose herself in the sound of it, but rush hour traffic delayed her progress in getting home, and the slow going allowed her too much time to dwell on her feelings. Each time his name flashed before her, she tried to turn her feelings into something else – tried to write her emotions off as a pathetic surge of compassion. Of genuine concern for her partner. It irritated her to know that she was trying to fool herself by telling blatant lies. Booth, with all his faults, had become a symbolism of everything that she wanted in her life. Stability, righteousness, sexiness and suddenly, like a bolt from above, she had to look at him in a less appealing light. She had to see him as a serial dater, a man who barely slipped back into his pants before he was jumping into bed with someone else.

Forcing a sigh from her lips, she took the nearest exit, preferring to go to the gym instead of home. Impossible as it would be to sleep, eat or even read a book, she liked the idea of releasing her accumulated energy in a way that was at least beneficial for her body.

-o-o-o-

Aww, a little bit of angst never hurt anyone. Please review. You know how I like reviews.