"And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can't replace,
When you love someone but it goes to waste.
Could it be worse?
Lights will guide you home and ignite your bones,
And I will try to fix you."

- 'Fix You', Coldplay

oo00oo

Angela Montenegro got to her best friend's apartment before she did. Waiting on the front steps with her arms wrapped around her to stave off the cold, she wondered what possibly could have happened to leave her so distraught over the phone.

I've seen Bren cry enough times now, but I've never heard her that scared before.

The taxi pulling up in front of her, Angela got to her feet and put on her game face as Brennan clambered out of the back seat. Walking towards one another, Angela saw the blotches of mascara under her puffy eyes and immediately wrapped a reassuring arm around her friend's shaking shoulders, leading her inside.

They reached the apartment in near silence, Angela's mind racing over the possibilities.

Booth. It has to be Booth. No-one else could ever get her so worked up.

Sitting Tempe down on the sofa, Angela marched in to the kitchen. Pausing in front of the kettle, she shook her head.

We don't need tea, we need wine. And tissues. Obviously a lot of tissues…

She grabbed a bottle and a couple of glasses, plonking them down unceremoniously on the coffee table as she settled herself on the sofa. Her eyes full of concern, she smiled at her friend as she offered her a box of Kleenex.

"So sweetie, what's Booth done now?"

Bren looked taken aback, blinking rapidly.

"How did you know it would be something to do with Booth?"

She grinned widely, offering a quick wink.

"Because it usually is. So what's Mr Tall, Dark and Idiotic gone and done this time?"

Bren sighed heavily, her eyes prickling with tears as she reached for the wine. Pouring them both a glass each, she settled back in to the cushions, all the while being watched by her closest friend.

"It's not what he's done, it's what he's going to do…"

Angela frowned.

"Which is?"

Brennan just stared in to the glass of wine, her mind elsewhere. Angela sighed.

Whatever it is, it's thrown her through a loop and a half.

"Sweetie, I need you to talk to me."

Temperance blinked rapidly, fighting back the tears.

"Ange, he's… He's going out to Iraq. He's going back to the army."

"Oh…"

She didn't know what else to say. Soldiers were still dying far too fast out there for Angela's liking and the idea of one of them being Booth…

That's not it. That's not all that's bothering her.

"What do I do, Ange? I can't ask him not to go. This is a loyalty thing for him. He's not just trying to be the typical alpha male. He truly believes that there's honour to be found out there, that he can make a difference."

"And you don't think he can?"

"Yes, no, I don't know! I guess I'm just…"

She swallowed hard and Angela watched her, patiently waiting for her to finish the thought as she knew she would.

"I guess I'm just worried that the only difference it's going to make is that Parker loses a father."

Angela's voice was soft.

"And that you lose a partner."

Brennan flinched, closing her eyes against the images that Angela wished she wasn't seeing.

All that carnage, all those victims, she's seen them all. I'm the one who makes the faces, don't you dare start putting Booth's over all of them.

She reached out to her friend, laying a gentle hand on top of hers and immediately noticing it was shaking.

"This is Booth we're talking about, Bren. He's like a real life Captain America! You know full well that he can take care of himself. He's been out there before doing the whole GI Joe thing and he came back in one piece."

Brennan's lower lip started to tremble as she shook her head slowly, remembering the x-rays she had seen of her partner.

"Last time, he… He took a bullet for someone and I think he was tortured."

Angela swallowed hard, trying to drive the images out of her mind.

God, Booth… I had no idea…

Brennan was veering towards the analytical again, trying to distance herself from the conversation.

"He had multiple fractures to his feet consistent with severe beatings which is a commonly used form of torture in the Middle East, and the permanent damage to his cuboid, tibialis anterior and navicular bones was likely due to the severity of the posttraumatic oedema from the use of pipes and... "

Angela waved a hand in the air to cut her off, trying desperately to look like the latest information had not bothered her.

"Sweetie, stop. You can't think about that type of thing. It doesn't help anyone, least of all you."

Brennan nodded slowly, letting out a long breath.

"I just… What if something happens to him? He says that it's not like he's on active duty but I just..."

Angela squeezed her hand.

"You just don't want to lose the man you love."

Brennan jerked her hand away, jumping to her feet.

"I never said I love him! Love has nothing to do with it. I mean, yes, we're partners but that's all. Friends and partners and… and…"

She sunk back down on to the sofa, dropping her head in to her hands.

"I've never been in love, Ange. As far as I'm concerned, there's no real scientific basis for it. I mean, the emotional bond that forms between family members is likely due to the recognition of a shared genetic structure and the primeval coding in us all to protect our own. That's not love, that's science. It's codes and genetics and programming. What you're talking about… I don't know what love is."

Nodding slowly, the artist sighed.

"Love is… Love is whatever you want it to be, sweetie. It's the fact that your heart speeds up at the thought of that one person who puts butterflies in your stomach, it's the longing to see them when they're not around, the desire to have them with you every minute of every hour because you don't think you could survive without them for another second. Love can be hard and tough and it involves sacrifices, compromises and surrender. But the reward? You can't ask for anything more in this world that loving someone and knowing they love you back. It's… It's love."

Brennan just raised an eyebrow, a look of weary disbelief on her face.

"So how do I know if I love Booth? I mean, beyond the context of friendship."

Angela smiled slowly.

"You already know, sweetie. You have done for months. It's so obvious! It's in every look you give him, every touch, and trust me, the feeling's mutual. You're both just too stubborn and bone-headed to admit it to yourselves."

Brennan shook her head, unable to digest this new information.

"Well, if the feeling's mutual, why is he leaving?"

"Because he's an honest, noble man who thinks he can make a difference to the world by being out there and fighting. And because he doesn't know how you really feel."

Brennan frowned as she ran a tired hand across her face.

"So, you're saying that if I tell him I love him, then maybe he'll stay?"

Angela sighed heavily.

"I'm saying if you tell him how you feel then you'll both know where you stand. And that's better than sitting here crying your eyes out over something that might never happen."

Brennan pulled her best friend in to a tight hug, whispering thank yous in to her hair. Pulling back, Angela grinned.

"That's what friends are for, sweetie. We fix you when you break down."

Brennan smiled back, her mind made up.

"So I guess tomorrow… Tomorrow I tell him how I feel."

Angela hugged her again.

And God help me, if that man doesn't tell her he loves her, I'll kill him myself…

A/N: Now have a fantastic image in my head of Angela attacking Booth with a paintbrush, hee hee... I should point out that it's now 4:51am so I don't really care if no-one else finds that funny! Am also slightly scared that my spell checker recognises the word 'Kleenex'...