A/N: Thank you for the kind reviews and messages. I appreciate them.
~OOOOOO~
It was ridiculous to sit at her desk and stare at the inbox of her email, waiting for him to respond. There was nothing rational about the behavior. It was like sitting next to a phone and waiting for it to ring, hoping the boy you had a crush on would call.
Which was something she'd never done, but Brennan continued to do it.
Because rational and fantasy were allowed to exist in the same place. Right now, that place was inside her head.
When her checking bordered on obsessive, she shut down her computer. Booth would send some sort of response or he wouldn't. And staring at that screen would have no impact on the outcome.
"Cam," she called out as she passed the woman's office. "I'm heading down to bone storage. If anyone needs me."
Not that she thought anyone would. Still, it was common courtesy to let someone know where she was.
"Quiet, for now," Cam answered, hoping she hadn't just jinxed the entire department. "If anyone needs you, I'll send someone down."
She'd slowed her footsteps enough to hear Cam's reply before heading down the stairs. Bone storage had become a second home to her again and she wasn't sure how she felt about that. It gave her comfort, but also reminded her of how lonely she was recently.
She'd never been lonely. Over the years, she was often alone but it had never bothered her. Now, she missed the lunches and quiet evenings with Booth.
If she didn't hear from him soon, if he didn't respond to her email and nothing between them changed, Brennan planned to call Russ. If she spent the holiday alone it would because that was her choice. And that wasn't one she was going to make. Her brother and his family would welcome her. She was going to take advantage of that and start some new traditions.
New experiences, Brennan reminded herself. Less walls between people and more time with those closest to her. Even if she said something awkward and rude, her family loved her just as she was. They'd forgive her for any mistakes in communication she made.
Once, she'd thought the same of Booth. His annoyance of her idiosyncrasies, rather than the acceptance she'd grown used to, wasn't something she'd expected to experience. There'd been many nights she'd wondered who Booth was now. The patient man who'd broken down walls she thought were solid, or the annoyed one who no longer seemed to want to deal with the person she was.
She selected an incomplete skeleton, knowing the challenge would distract her. Pulling out measuring tools and charts, she started with the basics. Long ago, the information was committed to memory, but it never hurt to refresh her own knowledge when given the opportunity.
The rhythm and familiarity of the task soothed her mind. It allowed her to focus on something, anything, other than the man who was never far from her thoughts.
"Male," she said after her measurements were complete. A quick scan of her charts reaffirmed her conclusions. "Calculated height of one hundred seventy centimeters."
"What is that in English?"
Alarmed that she hadn't heard anyone walk in, Brennan's head snapped up before her brain recognized the voice. Shocked to see him standing in front of her, she stared, her eyes traveling down his form and back up again.
Despite how badly she missed him, Brennan had never hallucinated his presence. So the logical conclusion was that Booth was there.
He wore one of his dark suits and a red tie. It was rather plain and she wondered what that meant. His eyes were warm, but guarded. Waiting, she guessed, to see how she'd react to his presence.
Running away was an option. Except for the fact that she was done running from anyone. Including herself.
"It's about five foot six," she said. Facts were safe when she didn't know what to say to him. "A little below average for a white male. I will have to investigate further to see if that is due to malnutrition when he was a child. That would provide further clues to his identification."
Why had he come? To tell her in person he didn't want to read over her paper? Or had something else brought him back to the Jeffersonian?
Would he ask about Secret Santa? He was the best investigator she'd ever met. Meaning logically, he'd determined they'd been set up, just as she had. Refusing to participate, even if it turned out they were paired together, seemed like an option.
Too many variables to know exactly why he was there. She hated the way it made her feel, unsure and nervous.
Looking away from Booth, she filled the facts into the document she started. When he didn't speak, she looked up again. "Do we have a case?"
The urge to walk across the room and hug him was so strong it was almost ridiculous. Considering they'd rarely done so even when they were good friends, it wasn't appropriate to feel like that now.
Didn't change how she felt, though. She'd missed him.
Booth sighed and stepped further into the room. She hadn't asked him to leave, so his presence wasn't unwelcome. But her question hurt.
Before...all that had come between them...it might not have been the first question she asked, considering they'd barely spoken in quite some time. If cases and investigations were the only thing they had between them now, they were in more trouble than he realized.
"Are things that bad between us, Bones?" They were and he knew it, but it didn't stop him from asking. "That I might not want to see how you are? What you're doing. Are things that bad that the only reason you think I'd come to see you is because we have a case?"
"Yes," she said, not stopping for even a moment to consider whether or not she should tell him the truth. "Yes. In the past several months you've only spoken to me five times that had nothing to do with a case. And I have not reached out to you either. So, yes, I would say that things are that bad between us."
Leave it to her to lay everything out in that blunt honesty she wielded like a weapon. Her aim was good. Put like that, the truth was ugly.
Another step in and he stopped. Close enough to see the expression in her eyes and realize he couldn't read what was there. Watching him, it was clear she waited for a response to her statement.
There really was no response. What she'd said was entirely accurate. So he nodded his head to her in agreement. "I'd like to change that," he stated simply. "I've made some mistakes."
She wondered if he referred to Hannah. "So have I." Waiting this long to talk to him again was one of them. That was going to end today. They were going to fix this because ending their partnership and potential for a relationship was not an option she'd consider.
Before snapping off her gloves, Brennan picked up the skeleton and returned it to its temporary home. Someday, hopefully soon, it would have a name and a face. And if she was lucky, a family to return him to.
"I don't know what to do, Booth," she said after sliding the box back in place. The gloves were tossed in the garbage near the desk. And she didn't. Brennan knew what she wanted to happen, but wasn't sure how to go about it. She shook her head before looking up at him again. "Are we even friends right now?"
"Yes," Booth said immediately. He watched some of the tension leave her shoulders at his quick answer. They might not be as close as they used to be, but they were still and always would be, friends. "I got your email."
She nodded. It hadn't occurred to her that he might show up to talk about what she'd sent. Assuming it was a good sign that he had, she gave him an unsure smile. "You don't have to read it if you don't want to."
His eyes darkened. Was she serious? He'd spend more time on that than he ever would on a work report. "You sent it, I'm reading it. When do you need my thoughts about it? Though," he added on a chuckle, "I'm sure whatever I say will pale in comparison to what you've written."
"The college would like my outline by the end of next week. If you have time."
Her voice was hesitant, afraid of every response he might give. Even her eyes darted in every direction but his. He'd been so short with her during cases, she couldn't help but wonder what his reaction would be.
"Bones," Booth said patiently, waiting until she met his eyes. "If it's important to you, then I have time. Don't ever think otherwise."
Except he hadn't had time for her lately. And he was going to have to prove to her all over again how important she was to him. Hopefully, it wouldn't take another five years to do it.
Looking over her shoulder, Booth glanced at the time. "Can I take you to lunch, Bones?"
It would have been very easy to say no. To use his distance and her hesitation as an excuse to keep him at arm's length.
But she didn't want easy anymore. She wanted something messy. She wanted laughter and tears.
She wanted Booth.
"That sounds nice. Let me go get my coat."
