A/N: Thank you to all those who reviewed: Pyro, caroldpb, brennanmars, Bella, icydragon14, bb-4ever, and BonesDBChippie (that anonymous review was you right?). If not thanks to whoever it was! And yes, I did eat my Angst Wheaties! Sorry, but I think I have a whole case! Anyway, enough of my blathering, I hope you like it, its kind of short!

Chapter Twelve

She sat in her office, rubbing her eyes tiredly. As she glanced out at her team, who were all pretending not to look concerned, she wished for the hundredth time that she had blinds on the large windows of her office.

However the lack of blinds did let her know when someone was coming, such as Angela, who was walking briskly towards her office right now.

She groaned inwardly and tried to prepare herself for the attack she knew was coming.

"Bren?" Angela said, knocking on her door.

"Yes?" she replied, feeling the first signs of a headache coming on.

"We need to talk." Angela said firmly. "What's going on with you and Booth? He ran out of here without even so much as a look at you."

"It's nothing." She replied, knowing that her answer wouldn't satisfy Angela.

"I think you should start from the beginning." Angela said. "We haven't had a chance to talk about this. How long have you two been dating?"

"It doesn't matter now." She replied. "We aren't together anymore."

"Aren't together? Bren, what is going on?" Angela asked. "And start from the beginning."

Seeing the look on Angela's face, she sighed.

"Fine." She said. "Things had been different for a while. When my father….it doesn't….he kissed me last week."

Angela bit back a squeal that she knew wasn't appropriate. "And then?"

"Obviously you know, Angela." She replied.

Angela smiled slightly. "Was he good? Never mind he's Booth, of course he's good."

"I'm not in the mood for this right now." She said. "Please."

"What happened?" Angela asked a serious look reappearing on her face.

"It was a mistake." She replied firmly. "We shouldn't have done it. I can't…"

"Can't what, sweetie?" Angela asked.

"I can't give him what he needs." She said, blinking back the tears. "Booth wants the house and the kids; the perfect life. I can't give him that."

"Bren, I highly doubt he is expecting that." Angela stated.

"Maybe not, but he deserves it." She replied. "You know that Angela. For all of your protestations that we make the perfect couple, a part of you knows that I can't give him what he wants."

Angela was silent for a while.

"Look maybe there is a tiny part that isn't perfect. But Bren, life isn't perfect." Angela said.

"I know that. But this is for the best, really." She replied.

Angela knew that she wasn't going to get anymore out of her friend, so she switched topics.

"Something else is going on with Booth, am I right?" she asked.

"Rebecca called." She said, slumping down in her chair. "From what I could understand from the yelling, she's not letting Booth see Parker anymore. I don't know why."

"What?" Angela said. "She has to let him see Parker. That's not fair."

"I know." She replied, a hint of anger in her voice.

"Oh god." Angela said, lifting her hand to her mouth. "You broke up with him and then this…"

"I didn't know." She said miserably.

"Bren he is going to need you to help him through this. You know that right?" Angela said.

She nodded. "I know. He's still my friend Angela. And my partner." She rubbed her eyes and tried to focus on the screen in front of her. Her head, which was mildly throbbing before, had now escalated into a full blown headache.

"I think I am going to go home." She said, ignoring the surprised look on Angela's face. She couldn't sit here and watch everyone tiptoe around her while subtly asking questions about Booth.

She grabbed her purse and jacket and headed out to the platform.

"Cam?" she asked. "I'm not feeling well and I am leaving, okay?"

"Fine." Cam replied, giving her a small smile.

She turned and headed down the stairs and out the Jeffersonian. She always worked on Saturdays, this was the first time in a long time that she wasn't going to. She always worked, that was who she was.

She reached her car and got in, her hands gripping the steering wheel as she drove off in the direction of her apartment. She pushed thoughts of Booth out of her head as she forced herself to think of work. Particularly an article in one of her forensic journals.

This was who she was. Perfectly content with her life as a forensic anthropologist. She didn't need more, didn't want more, all she needed to make herself happy was her work. She was happy before Booth and she would be happy again.

She was focused, intense. Some called her cold and perhaps she was. Piecing together the skeletons of those who suffered, getting justice, if this made her cold then so be it. This was who she was.

Past relationships had proved that sex was just a biological need and nothing more. She could have that without any other strings.

She didn't need anyone but her work, it fulfilled her, made her happy.

This was who she was.

She made it all the way to her apartment door before she began to cry.