"I can accept anything, except what seems to be the easiest for most people: the half-way, the almost, the just-about, the in-between." - Ayn Rand
2.
It was late and the office was quiet, illuminated only by the light pouring out of his office. She hesitated in the doorway, waiting for the metaphorical butterflies to settle in her stomach, watching him stare at the document on his desk for several long moments before lightly tapping on the frame.
His head bounced up in surprise before looking down at the paper again. Although he gave her no indication as to whether she was welcome, she entered and sat down across from him without speaking. The silence stretched between them.
He was the first to break. "What are you doing here?" His tone of voice was almost dejected.
She straightened her shoulders and continued to stare at his bowed head. "I thought you were willing to work with me on this."
He finally met her stare and gazed back with equal force. "I am! I feel like I've been doing all the heavy lifting!"
"I don't….wait. You feel as if you've been contributing more than I have to our relationship?" She tried to clarify, to understand. She hated this about herself; only moments into an emotional conversation and she was already floundering.
"Haven't I?" He shot back.
"I…" She paused in consideration. "I have been relying on you to teach me how to be in a relationship, yes. We both agreed when we started this that my instincts were poorly developed and that you would provide me guidance on how to proceed correctly. So yes, you may have been playing a greater role in our relationship than I have, to date. However, I believe that over time I have been increasing my contribution to our personal interactions."
He shifted his gaze briefly to the wrinkle forming on her brow and shook his head. "Yeah Bones, we agreed. But it's been months and I just. I feel like I'm butting against a brick wall. I know it's hard for you, but I need you to show me that I'm important to you. Sometimes it feels like I'm just the moon of planet Bones and I'm getting tired of it.
She stared at him. "You're tired Booth? So am I. You throw these figures of speech at me like they're supposed to mean something, when you know I don't understand them. Here's a metaphor, no simile, for you Booth. I feel like Sisyphus, the mythical Greek, who was forced to push a boulder uphill for eternity. I keep trying and trying, but it's never enough." She pushed back her chair and stood, fighting the prickling sensation at the back of her eyes. "You have all these rules you've made up in your head about how a relationship is supposed to work, but you've never given me the playbook!"
"Bones…"
She started to pace as she listed her faults. "I'm not overly demonstrative of my feelings. I am overly literal. I work too much. I become anxious when I have nothing to occupy myself. I don't suffer fools and have been told that I can be harsh, cold even. I follow through on my commitments, sometimes to the detriment of my personal life. I can't always drop things at a hat when you ask me to Booth. You know this about me. You've always known this about me."
His mind was awash with rebuttals that refused to be said aloud. He sat back in his chair and stared at her.
She shrugged, helplessly. "You told me once that you loved me for who I was, but I am beginning to think that you lied or were misled by your own feelings. The evidence is leading me to believe that you only love some ideal of who I might be someday. That's not love, at least as I've come to understand it. You need to decide, Booth, if you can accept me as I am, or not at all."
He felt her waiting for him to say something, anything to make things better, but couldn't quite meet her eyes. After a few moments, he heard her footsteps and then the door open and chanced a glance upward. He felt tangled in guilt and relief at her retreat.
He noticed that when she left, she didn't look back.
(...)
The next week and a half was spent in strained politeness between them. Booth made sure to keep Brennan advised of all developments on the case and Brennan made sure to give Booth any updates on the lab side of things herself. When the break in the case finally came through, they questioned the witness together with no hint of acrimony. Booth barely blinked when Brennan asked to accompany him to make the arrest. It was all straightforward and very professional.
It was unbearable.
She found him again in his office the night after the case was officially closed. They had not slept in the same bed in over three weeks; had not eaten together; had not touched except for the brief handholding in the car. Her tentative text to him about drinks with the team had been ignored, and she doubted referencing their more recent tradition of going home afterwards to celebrate privately would be well received.
He sat hunched in the same position as the last time she had appeared at his door. This time she didn't hesitate or knock, just walked straight in and settled a stack of folders on his desk, handing him the top one with confidence.
"Bones?" He questioned.
She stepped back and pointed at the files. "Those are my reports from all our recently completed cases, including notes and details for any pending trials, although I have verified with Caroline that none are on the docket for the near future. That," she pointed at the file in his hand, "is a copy of my request for a sabbatical, signed by Cam this afternoon. I wanted to inform you in person of my plans, as I believe you deserve at least that as a person who plays a significant role in my life."
"Bones?" He frowned.
"I need to take a break Booth. I realize that this will seem to you as if I am running away." She shrugged and admitted, "Perhaps I am. But I don't know what to do." She held up her hand to stop him from interrupting. "Please let me speak first. You can express your disappointment with me after I have finished."
He nodded slowly.
"I have tried both apologizing for my actions and discussing with you a solution to our problems, but you have given me no indication that you have any desire to seek a remedy at this time. I do not know how to fix this, us. I have talked to both Angela and Sweets about how I can improve or reach a suitable compromise with you, but neither seemed to have anything to offer by way of suggestion that would be acceptable to you given your disinclination to discuss sex or your own emotions. As such I have decided to provide both of us time and space to get over our mutual anger."
Her eyes, which had been darting around the room, finally met his. "I value the relationship between us Booth, but I can't do this," she waved between them, "any longer. So I am taking a six week sabbatical starting one week from today, and I hope that when I return we will be able to sort out an appropriate arrangement going forward." She surreptitiously wiped a tear from her cheek and braced herself for his response.
His voice was almost a whisper. "Where are you going?"
"Darfur. Several months ago I turned down a request from the ICRC to assist in the identification of a suspected mass grave site. When they reoffered yesterday I accepted."
"Bones, it's not stable over there."
"I am aware of that Booth. However, I have been reassured of more than adequate security during my investigations and have proven that I am quite capable of protecting myself in similar situations."
"Bones don't go," he pleaded.
She stared. "Why?"
"What?"
"Why do you not want me to go? Is it because you wish to work through our problems, or is it because you feel an obligation to protect me?"
"…"
"I see." She nodded and swallowed. "I will miss you, Booth. More than you will know." This time she did not hide the tears from him. She stepped forward and pressed a lingering kiss to his check.
"Bones." He reached out to grab her but she slipped from his grasp.
She reached into her purse and revealed a wrapped present. "Please give this to Parker on his birthday in two weeks. Tell him I am sorry that I broke another promise." She shrugged and gave him a wan smile. "At least I will no longer be around to disappoint him." The gift was placed in his hand before she retreated. "Take care Booth. Be happy."
And then she was gone. He stared at the gift in his hand, wondering what the hell he was doing sitting on his ass when his heart was screaming at him to go after her.