A/N

I'm shooting for later Monday for chapter 40.

Walter Reed Army Medical Center, Thursday Evening

"Tell the nurse I'd like some more pudding on your way out."

Booth kept his eyes closed, hoping his quivering gut would settle down while he waited for her to leave. Whether she was truly cold-hearted or just chicken shit didn't matter. It wasn't his problem any more. He was through having to 'understand' her. If she couldn't, or wouldn't, understand him for a change… hell, he probably owed Williams an apology.

God, but he was pathetic. He hadn't really dated in the better part of a year, not even one of his periodic bouts of masochistic backsliding with Rebecca, and he now realized that a big part of the reason was that he'd been unconsciously saving himself for her, long before he'd become aware of his growing feelings.

In other words he'd been a sap. He ought to just get laid and forget about her.

Once she was gone that would be the end of it. All of it. He wouldn't hang around. Surely now he had some pull he could use to expedite swinging a transfer before his fifteen minutes were up. He just hoped Cullen wouldn't give him too much shit. He might even get lucky and already have a new gig lined up for when he came off medical leave.

However, his effort to hold on to some of his earlier anger as a way to mask the hurt was failing. He blinked back fresh tears that were on the verge and tried to ignore the continuing sick feeling in his stomach while he listened for the sound of her exit.

But nothing happened…

After a few seconds he heard her shifting in the chair, but it did not move. The sounds remained fixed to his front left. Damned woman won't take a hint.

It got worse. He heard something that sounded suspiciously like a sniffle.

Un-fucking-believable. He was the one who'd just been fucked over. The nerve of some women would never cease to amaze him. He'd never had her pegged as the 'kick, kiss or cry' type but he supposed that was just one more unpleasant surprise.

He opened his eyes but still refused to look directly at her. Instead, he looked toward the door.

"Please go. I'd like to be alone."

Finally his peripheral vision detected some movement accompanied by a few squeaks from the chair and a soft sound he assumed was made by the rubber tires on the floor. In a few seconds she passed the foot of the bed, then she paused briefly in the doorway, directly in his field of view where she turned back over her right shoulder to look at him, her expression shell-shocked.

He met her gaze for a long moment, willing his face to remain expressionless, easy since it was numb, then he turned left toward the empty spot where she had been sitting until he finally saw her leave from the corner of his eye.

That was it. She was gone.

They could have been so good together…

After a minute he wiped his eyes then began running through his options. About a year before he'd passed on an invite for a jump to Kidnapping. There was a good chance he could dust that one off. CounterTerror was another strong possibility, one which his current visibility might help with. He certainly wouldn't mind helping roll up any stateside cells or support structure these fuckers had. If neither of those panned out then he just might have to look further afield. For a few seconds he fantasized about Miami or sunny LA, refusing to acknowledge another lone tear that had escaped. He let out a sigh -- those just wouldn't work. Hell, even the field office in Baltimore, considered the bush leagues by comparison, might be too far away as far as getting to see Parker was concerned…

"Excuse me."

It took a second for it to sink in, then he rushed to scrub at his cheek before turning to the voice.

"May I speak?" Somehow she was back in the doorway.

He supposed indulging her one last time wouldn't hurt. "Whatever." He motioned her back in. Besides, hearing her out might even prove entertaining. He made no promises not to laugh in her face. This time at least he could bear to look directly at her. Bones looked like she had been crying. Good.

"You interrupted me earlier," she said in a very small voice.

Curious to see where this performance of hers was going, he watched her intently. She rolled herself past the foot of the bed back to about where she was before, then took a deep breath as if steeling herself.

She held her head high and spoke more loudly, "It is true that cut flowers aren't very practical, but I was also going to say that nevertheless the ones you sent me are still very lovely. Tulips are one of my favorite flowers. They are gorgeous, and I love them. Thank you."

Almost in spite of himself, he nodded. Suddenly he felt unsure...

She startled him with a change of direction, this time taking on her familiar lecturing voice, though perhaps a bit stiffer than usual.

"Personal relationships between colleagues or coworkers are considered undesirable according to the conventional wisdom with good reason: even if they don't end badly, they lead to divided loyalties causing tension and conflict in the workplace. These problems are only exacerbated when the relationship ends."

He couldn't believe his ears. She came back just to tell him this shit? His amazement was starting to turn into anger when she gave him pause...

Suddenly, she looked as vulnerable as he'd ever seen her. Her eyes glistened, and her tone went softer, lower.

"But now I realize none of that matters, not if what happened on Monday means what I think it did. I don't think you really want to be alone."

He blinked his eyes closed for a moment, afraid this was some cruel trick. He reopened them as she continued.

"I thought I could do it, but I… I just can't… I don't want to be alone either, not anymore." A solitary tear trailed down her left cheek. Her voice quavered, "If you still want me… I know I can be clueless or clumsy sometimes, but I promise you, I'm not cold." A second tear joined the first.

He was frozen, afraid to hope, afraid to lead with his chin again. He lay helplessly as, after a moment watching him, she rolled the chair a couple feet closer then bent down to fiddle with the wheel locks. His breath caught in his throat as she started to stand. Her face looked like she was going to her execution, but she didn't take her eyes off him.

Finally, he could speak, though just barely. "You probably ought to keep your ride." He nodded toward the now empty spot just outside the door. "I think Hodgins took your crutches down with him." He couldn't meet her eyes.

She said nothing as she hobbled to the side of the bed and took hold of the upper rail near his elevated head.

He hated the way his voice cracked, but he did at least manage to look up at her…

"What… just what the hell are you doing, Bones?"

She smiled nervously, but the effect was further spoiled by more tears.

"Being impractical."

His heart skipped a beat…

She bent and kissed him.