Miss me? ... Oh… that's okay. It's not like I was expecting you to miss me or anything… for real though, how about a new one-shot?

This piece formed sometime after the Blizzard episode… which I loved… but before the "Finder" episode, when things seemed to take another turn in the "WTF" direction yet again for B&B (in my opinion at least- yes, others disagree). It's not a Brennan-gets-drunk-and-gives-a-speech installment… though I have noticed y'all seem to like those the best. But this one deals with Booth's lingering anger… and what I hope is a real reaction Brennan will get to have to it.

This is a little different, style-wise, for me… gracious thanks go to the lovely Mali's Bear Buddy for her helpful cleaning up of my haphazardly written thoughts! : )

Waiting.

She's familiar with the action, or lack thereof, as a concept.

Waiting isn't just frustrating. It's confusing. It's annoying. It's tiresome.

She realizes she's spent more time waiting for something, someone, than she ever expected to spend on anything, ever. She doesn't wait around for things to happen. She doesn't wait for answers to questions. Her expectations are high and the people who exist in her world know they have to move quickly to keep up with her.

So waiting? She's not exactly built to wait.

But she doesn't know what else to do.

She can't not wait, after all.

She can't leave this waiting place.

"You okay, Dr. Brennan?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?" she says coolly.

"You've been awfully quiet tonight. Something about the case still bothering you?"

"The case is solved, Sweets. Everything is fine," she responds, starring at her drink on the bar.

"So, if not the case, then it's something else?"

She stares into space. She knows the answers to his questions. And she knows he knows she knows. But knowing them and acknowledging them can be two very different tasks.

"Yeah. Sure Sweets… something else."

She can feel him studying her. He's trained in what to say and what to do in situations where people seem lost. But he remains silent. She knows he wants to say something, but he doesn't form the words.

She slides off her stool, uncharacteristically patting his arm in a silent gesture of thanks for his concern and grabs her coat before walking out the door.

She's already across the street, far enough away to think she's made a clean escape, when she hears him.

"Bones, where ya going?"

She stops in her tracks and turns, but she can't bring herself to really look at him. She can't tamper her fear that when a person begins to break, metaphorically, the cracks are visible to others. As ludicrous as it sounds, she fears if he sees her eyes, he'll see her crack as well.

"For a walk," she states simply.

He hesitates. He shuffles his feet. She hears his silent hesitation louder than his actual response.

"You want company?"

This almost gives her hope. Almost, until he says…

"After all, it's late. I know you can take care of yourself and all, but walking alone is just asking for trouble."

It's chivalry, at the very least, that prompts his request. At the most, it's a desire to spend time with her cloaked in chivalry. And right now, at this moment, she's simply tired of the surreptitious nature of their relationship.

"No," she responds firmly. "I just need some time to myself."

She can hear the slight grin in his voice as he asks "Time and space?"

"Yes."

She manages to turn toward him, schooling her features in impassiveness to see his reaction. She doesn't want him to hurt, yet a small part of her hopes he hurts just a little bit. The part of her that doesn't want to push him away quickly follows up with a "See you tomorrow, Booth," in an attempt to reassure him.

Then she walks away. He stands there watching her. Not following. Not prodding. Not propelling into action.

It's better this time. At least he followed her outside. That's progress.

It's not that she wants him to chase her – she's not a woman who would want to be chased, of course. She really does need space. The space to breathe because she has been spending far too much time holding her breath, while waiting for something that might never come. She acknowledges it might never happen and the fact that he doesn't follow her further confirms he's still not ready. He's still angry.

She begins to wonder if he'll ever be ready. She has to hope he will. Because… is there another option?

She feels this pressure in her chest. A heavy burden on her shoulders. A tension in every muscle, weighing down on every bone in her body. She'd be the first to tell you a person could not spontaneously combust, but now she's knows why people think it's possible.

So she walks. It always amazes her that people disappear from the monuments in the city at night. Thousands of people descend upon these tourist attractions during the daylight, but few people bother to see them lit up at night. It's quiet. It's peaceful. Booth might say it felt patriotic. It's …

She can't bring herself to focus on the city's majestic outline tonight. Not when there are so many other thoughts crowding her mind.

Angela always tells her she needs to be bolder and act on her feelings. But instead, she's always respected his wishes.

He's drawn his lines. More than once. She's always stood behind them and accepted what he's said at face value. Then everything changed. Her equilibrium was shifted, the rug was pulled out from under her and she waits.

Angela also told her once that sometimes she feels the need to scream out loud. When the world gets to be too much, when there are voices inside your head shouting and the left brain is warring with the right brain and you can't decipher people's expectations of you much less quiet all the noise down to figure out what it is that you really want, despite the shouting…

She looks around her for any human signs of life. She closes her eyes and listens for any sounds. Hearing none, she faces the Potomac. And… she screams.

Turns out a security guard isn't that far from her and comes running toward the sound. He looks quite displeased as she waves him off with a brisk apology.

Angela was right. Despite the flush she feels at having anyone witness this moment, screaming out loud was cathartic.

Booth needs time. The clock ticks on and she waits. There isn't any anything she wouldn't do for him. So not waiting for him… it's not even an option.

She takes a deep breath to gather herself and continue walking home. She'll be strong and accept his snide behavior even though he says he's not angry. She'll be strong and accept his unwillingness to trust her like he used to. She'll be strong and accept that the things he says and does now might change one day when he's done being angry.

When the waiting gets to feel like too much, she could always just scream again.

The fault in strength is that even the strong can break. Eventually.

Imperviousness had its perks.

A commoner gets to marry the future king of England in a few hours... my friends and I all thought we'd marry William when we were younger. Perhaps, as a consolation, you might leave a review? :) (got guilt?)