Oh my baby baby I love you more than I can tell
I don't think I can live without you
And I know that I never will
Oh my baby baby I want you so it scares me to death
I can't say anymore than "I love you"
Everything else is a waste of breath
- I Want You

When Angela called Booth the next day to ask him to stop by her office, he immediately assumed the worst. And as soon as he walked in, watching as she closed and locked the door and pulled the shades…he suddenly knew this was not going to be a conversation so much as an interrogation.

"Okay. Bren is locked up tighter than a nun in a cathouse so I have to ask you. What the hell happened, Booth?"

"I don't know what you mean, Angela. What's going on?" Booth carefully schooled his face, making sure he had no expression whatsoever.

"You know damn well what I mean. Brennan came stomping in here an hour late this morning, madder than a rabid werewolf crapping hot lava. Something happened, and you are the only one who gets that kind of reaction from her."

"Angela…" He tried to deflect her glare with a pitiful look, but Angela's face was set, and he knew she was not going to let him go without at least some information. He sighed and sat down on her sofa, kicking his feet out to land on her coffee table. If he couldn't be emotionally comfortable, he was damn sure going to be comfortable physically.

"Charlie and I broke up."

The anger faded off Angela's face as she sat next to his feet on the table. "Oh. I'm so sorry, Booth. I really am."

"Thanks. But…it wasn't ever going to work."

"Why do you say that?"

"You know why, Angela. Everyone knows why. Might as well hire a skywriter in case we missed someone!"

"You're still in love with Bren."

Booth blew a breath out his pursed lips and let his head fall onto the sofa's back. "Why does that suddenly sound like a bad thing when you say it?"

"Well, at least I can say it."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean? I've said it! I laid myself out to her, Angela! She rejected me." He pulled his feet off the coffee table and sat up, incredibly agitated.

"Sweetie." Angela moved to sit next to him and laid a hand on his knee. "No. I mean the words. The actual sentence. Four words, four syllables. Have you ever said it to her face?"

Booth sat bolt upright and Angela watched, oddly fascinated, as the color drained out of his handsome face, making him suddenly look years older. "Jesus."

She let him sit in miserable silence for a moment before continuing. "You know Bren, Booth. You have to spell things out for her. Yes, you may have told her you wanted to be with her. You may have promised her a lifetime of happiness. But we're talking about a woman who didn't believe in love for most of her adult life. Everyone she loved like that disappointed her, and when someone came along that she thought might have the potential break that streak, made her believe love was possible again; he offered her the moon and the stars…but forgot the most important thing. He forgot to tell her how head over heels in love he is with her."

"I thought she knew. I thought I said it. I did say it, Ang. In a million different ways."

"But not the one way she really needed you to. Most people, they say they love you and then they set out to prove it. You did it ass backwards, you proved it…and then blew the finish. She got her proof, she needs the hypothesis."

"It is my fault. I blew it. I rushed her."

"What? Booth…" Angela wondered how someone so insightful could also be so frigging blind sometimes. "Five years! You gave her five years, Booth! By any stretch of the imagination, by anyone's standards, even Brennan's…that is so not rushing her. You need to shake that idea out of your little piggy bank of guilt there, babe. That is all on her, not you." She closed her eyes for a moment and thought back to all those years ago, when her friends were just beginning to discover themselves, and who they could be together. She sometimes missed that beginning. "Booth, a long time ago, even before she really knew you completely, Brennan told me that you don't balk. And she was right. When push came to shove, you didn't balk. She did. She did."

"I told her that blamed her for my breakup with Charlie."

Angela blanched. "Damn."

"Yeah. I didn't mean it like it came out, but..."

"She isn't going to forgive that easily."

"But now that I've had time to think about it, I blame Cam. If she hadn't needed us...if we hadn't had to come back sooner..."

"That's not fair either, Booth. You know that. A month, seven months, a year...you would have come back for Cam no matter what. So quit throwing the blame where it doesn't belong and take some of that blame on you. You're a big boy, Booth. You're responsible for your own actions and decisions."

"Yeah, I know. I know." Booth stood up, no longer agitated but still thrumming with nervous energy. "I need to think. I can't just…"

"I know, Booth. I know. You just broke up with Charlie. Take some time, make up with Bren and try to get back to good with her. Then…"

"Then say those four syllables?"

Angela grinned. "Yeah."

Booth leaned over and kissed her head. "Thanks, Angela. You're a good friend."

"Yes, I am."

"And who knew you were so insightful?"

"Hey, I am always insightful. I still don't know where my flaky reputation came from. It's insulting."

"I haven't a clue." He walked to her door and disengaged the lock. "Oh, and Ang…I think its six syllables, not four."

"Maybe, if you loved Temperance."

Booth grinned, finally. "You're right. I love Bones."