Hey, so finally, I found some time to sit down and write, and this is the result. I realize I haven't been writing Booth's character very well, so I'm going to start with this chapter and let him evolve into normal Booth. (or, at least, one can hope...)

Anyway, here is the Angela POV I promised. this is the first time I've ever written a combo past/present tense (or present tense in general) so if the tense is weird, please bare with me and write a reveiw telling me how I could possibly do it better (aka constructive critisism:)

So, here you go!

disclaimer: I don't own Google, Bones or any of the characters of Bones.

This is Heaven. This is absolutely Heaven. I'm 100%, positively sure that this is Heaven. And if it's not, the real Heaven had better be like this or I'm not sure I even want to go.

You may ask, Angela, why are you raving about how heavenly the present situation is? Because currently, the ever-so-sexy Agent Seeley Booth is sitting on my office couch, his arms across his chest, his amber eyes brooding and conflicted, his pouty bottom lip poking out just so that- okay I'm getting off topic (It's this celibacy stuff, I swear, it can do a real number on you after four and a half months). The point is, he's currently admitting that he misses his partner. Sort of.

"What's the time difference? Between DC and Africa?" He had asked me. I already knew the answer, but what fun is life without a little hearty manipulation? So of course, I told him to sit down while I looked it up, as "my computer is slow and it might take awhile." I was lying obviously. My computer is one of the most high tech, cutting edge pieces of technology in the country, of course it's not slow.

"Why are you so miserable lately?" I asked as I typed into Google, my bracelets clacking against the desk every time I pressed a key.

"I'm not . . . Miserable!" He snapped defensively. I raised my eyebrow, as you do in a situation like this.

"Okay, whatever you say, G-man…" I smirked in my typical fashion.

I pressed the 'I'm feeling lucky' button (which I find funny, by the way), and walked out from behind my desk to sit across from Booth in a chair.

"I'm just saying, you seem a little…out of it, lately. " I commented. He just raised his head a little.

"Can you just answer the time zone question? " He asked, obviously dodging the bullet. I'd never heard him talk like that. Well, only in front of Sweets, which doesn't count.

"Why, are you gonna write her a letter or something?" I could feel my eyes grinning. When my eyes grin, I consider it seepage from my overly enthusiastic insides; so in other terms, I could feel my happiness seeping through my eyes.

"Maybe...Why are you all excited?" He asked.

"Because, it's like those tragic novels, where the man goes off to war and the woman writes him letters and then when he comes back she's gone and all that's left are those romantic little pieces of paper! Except…the opposite. And, it's not war, it's a mass grave…and I know you won't leave her…" Oh, I am gonna get it now.

"How do you know that?" He asked, like I dared to underestimate his manliness. To this, l sighed.

"Because. You love her way too much to abandon her like every other man in her life has. That and…You wouldn't be able to live with out her." This time, I allowed the seepage of my overflowing internal happiness become present in both my tone and on my face in the form of a blissfully aware, amused, smile.

"We're just partners and I'm not gonna sit here and listen to this." He stood up, ready to bolt.

"Oh don't give me that, 'Jut partners' crap." Now, that was meant to stay in my head. It just slipped out, like many of the things I say do. I think the filter for 'socially appropriate' things is broken.

I want to take it back, but it's a little late, seeing as I already said it and somehow, my body had placed itself in what I like to call, 'The Stance'. It's when your hand is on your hip, your head is cocked slightly to the side and your eyes blaze with nothing but pure, 150 proof attitude.

At first, he looked taken aback, I can't blame him, I am quite intimidating, but now he just looks angry. Oh God. Nothing good can come of this.

"That is all we are. Partners. That's it." He's calming himself, though there is most definitely fire in his eyes.

"I don't get it. She's gone away before and it hardly did anything to you. Why the sudden moodiness?" I asked innocently. By now, most people would've shut up, seeing this muscular tall guy with anger in his stance and his eyes turned dark as coal, but I never give up on an opportunity.

Booth didn't answer. But then, I didn't expect him to. So to help him out, I answered for him.

"It's because the last time she left was back when the tension between you two was just a little flicker. A match being struck, if you will. But now, oh… now is a whole new ballgame." I start walking toward him menacingly, until I was standing right in front of him, close enough to catch a waft of the cologne on his neck.

"Now the tension is a big, hungry, hot mess of a flame, and you, my friend,are dangerously close." His eyes start to lighten up as the anger melts away.

"There's that old cliché, you know, the 'don't play with fire because you will get burned.' That's not my advice. Play with fire. Give fire a run for its money. Hell, jump into fire with reckless abandon and yell back that you just don't care." These are my final words as I brush past him and exit my office.

Now if only he'd listen to me instead of dancing around the fire, as he has been for so long.

Oh man, I do love metaphors.

So there it is! review if you please!

I will try and have the next Brennan chapter up soon (probably tommorow) and I'm trying to decide if I need a little bit of Parker in my story. Let me know what you think,

~Rhea~

"We make our lives out of chaos and hope. And love."- Angela