"What I want is to be needed. What I need is to be indispensable to somebody. Who I need is somebody who will eat up all my free time, my ego, my attention. Someone addicted to me. A mutual addiction."-Chuck Palahniuk

Intelligent

He knew that she didn't mean it the way that it had sounded, but he'd be lying if he said it didn't hurt a little. To her credit, she'd picked up on the fact that he wasn't thrilled that she'd basically called him an idiot in earshot of their friends and had quickly amended herself. Her amendment wasn't that much better, really, but he tried to convince himself it was the thought that counted.

Two steps forward, one step back. It was a familiar dance between the two of them and every time they took that back step he'd ask himself if it was worth the effort. Only on one occasion had he answered that it was not; and only then because it had cut him to the quick to think that she thought of him as a loser, just like Jared and his old man.

"Booth?" he barely heard her voice in the stillness of the car as he drove her home.

"Yeah, Bones?" he shook off his musings and stole a glance at her.

Their eyes connected and in the darkness he could swear she was blushing.

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

"It's nothing," he tried to assure her.

Her long gaze moved like a scanner over him, taking in every last detail, "You have been uncharacteristically quiet since we left the Founding Fathers, not to mention you have shifted your grip on the steering wheel at least five times, suggesting you are agitated."

"Five times, huh?" he tried to lighten the mood and deflect the question.

"At least," she nodded, then with that pit-bull tenacity, "What's wrong, Booth?"

He pulled into the parking lot at her building and turned off the car. Neither of them moved.

His leg started bouncing nervously.

"If you were hurt by my words earlier tonight, just say so," she blurted out into the silence.

He looked at her stunned and it was her turn to look hurt.

"I'm not the greatest people reader," she smiled sadly, "But I can read you after all of these years. I- I'm not certain what to say to ameliorate the situation, but I am sorry for hurting your feelings."

"That's ameliorating enough for me," he lifted one corner of his mouth, "Hey, don't look so stunned- I took the SATs too, you know."

"I didn't mean to attack you personally," she said, sounding genuinely sorry.

"Yeah, I know, Bones," he assured her, "That's why I said it was nothing."

"But it's not 'nothing' if you are still agitated by it," she argued, "I hate when you deflect like this. Just admit that your feelings were hurt and realize that by doing so, you will not offend me, nor will I think any less of you."

"Okay, okay," he threw his hands up, "Your word usage could've been better tonight, but I'm not some pansy guy who's going to go home and cry in his tea over it. Besides, you tried to fix things and now you've cleared the air so we're good."

She looked at him for a long moment, "Are you familiar with the phrase 'Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me?"

"Yes," he dragged the word out, wondering where she was going now.

"It's not true," she said firmly, "Well- it is true that, given the right force a bone can be broken with both sticks and stones- but it is not true that words will never hurt us. In fact," there was a slight hitch in her voice, "Sometimes words can do greater damage than any physical implement."

He nodded mutely, desperately wanting to lean over and kiss away that sad look on her face, but he held back.

She looked up sharply, "That's why it's important to me that you let me know if I've hurt you with my words. I'm not always aware of it, but I do care."

"I care about you too, Bones," he smiled.

An awkward silence filled the air.

"Would you like to escort me to my apartment?" she asked.

"Scared of the dark, Bones?" he teased.

They shared a smile and she shook her head, "No, but then you won't have to sit out here and wait for my light to go on before you leave."

"Hey," he smiled as they climbed out and headed toward the building, "You do know me."

"I have been under the tutelage of a keen observer for several years now."

"Yeah, Sweets is something else, isn't he?" Booth teased.

She shoved his shoulder, he shoved back, and they laughed. Finally, they reached her door.

"Well," Booth sighed, "Good night, Bones."

"You aren't going to do a security sweep of my apartment before you go?" she teased.

"Nah," he waved a hand, "I'm sure you've got your rocket launcher on you somewhere."

"Yes."

He gave her a short wave and turned to leave.

"Booth?"

He turned around.

"You're a good friend, Booth," she said softly.

She took two steps forward and planted a kiss on his cheek. His head was turning and one corner of her lip touched one corner of his and he stumbled back. Neither one of them said anything, but they didn't have to. They nodded, smiling shyly, and he waved again before turning to leave.

And the dance went on. And he knew it was worth it.