Hello again. Wow, thank you all so much for your reviews, I'm really overwhelmed. You rock, sweeties! Here comes the next chapter, hope you'll like it.

Coming home…

Chapter 3

I looked at my phone and sighed. Angela was calling…. Again. I knew she was worried and I had to admit to myself that I was being unfair and selfish for not answering the phone one of the previous five times it had been ringing. I had called Cam, told her that my doctor had advised me to stay home for the rest of the day and that had been it. I should have called Angela, I knew it…and felt guilty about it. But the problem was, Angela would sense that something was wrong and not simply accept my explanation that I needed a day to recharge.

She would know. I glanced at the phone again and set it aside. I could have turned it off, but somehow – although it made me feel very guilty – Angela's calls made me feel better. Somebody was worrying about me. It was precious… and the very thought made me realise that I was not treating my best friend the way she deserved. She deserved to know what she meant to me, how much I valued her and the fact that she was concerned about me. The phone vibrated again and I decided to answer it.

"Hey Angela." I said as I answered. "Sweetie… Are you okay? Where are you? I'm at your apartment, Cam said you called and said you would be home, resting, but you're not here and…. I was so worried."

Her ramble made me feel even more guilty, if possible. "I'm sorry, Ange. I needed fresh air. I'm at the park." I said, leaving out that I was not only at the park, but at the play ground, watching toddlers throw sand at each other. Watching children play on swings, laughing merrily. Watching their parents, wondering if I would be sitting there soon too.

I bit my lip at Angela's. "Ohhhh." Guilt, guilt, guilt. "I'm really sorry, Angela. I knew I should have called… but…" I hesitated, not quite sure what to say.

"It's something serious, right?" Her voice sounded calm, but I heard the concern in it. And as always, she had sensed that there was more to my words than what I had spoken. "Do you have time to meet me?" I asked after a moment. She was my best friend and I really needed somebody to talk to.

"I took the day off when Cam told me you were not coming in. I knew it had to be something serious for you not to come to work." Angela whispered.

"You're at my apartment?" I asked, remembering her words from earlier. "Yes." She answered simply.

"Stay there, will you? I'll be there soon." I suggested. "I will. I'll make coffee, hm?" Despite the worry in her voice, she tried to soothe me. "No… no coffee, thanks." I said, remembering that caffeine was not something the doctor recommended for pregnant women. Although I had not yet made a decision, I thought it could not hurt to avoid caffeine and alcohol. "Hot chocolate?" She asked. "Chocolate is comfort food, huh?"

"Then hot chocolate would be a comfort drink?" I asked, thankful for the distraction.

"Yep." She made and I nodded. Realising she would hardly be able to see it, I added. "Hot chocolate sounds good. I'll be there in a few minutes."

"See you then." My best friend gave back and I ended the call and threw the phone in my purse. I gave the play ground in front of me another long, measuring look, before turning around and walking towards my car.

Angela had hugged me tight, concern edged in her features when I had arrived at my apartment. Patiently she had waited until I had gotten rid of shoes and jacket, had handed me a mug filled with delicously smelling hot chocolate.

Now we were sitting on the couch side by side and she clearly was waiting for me to tell her how horrible the diagnosis was, barely containing the questions she surely wanted to ask. I sighed and looked at her, trying to make it quick. "I'm not sick." I simply said. Blunt and to the point, that was me.

She blinked in surprise, clearly stunned and - for once - speechless.

"I'm pregnant." I continued and she nearly dropped her mug. "Pregnant." She repeated, her voice a croak. Her eyes darted to my mid-section and I knew what she was thinking. Or at least, I could make an elaborate guess, although I never had been much for guessing and - equally - never had been good at reading people.

"Eight weeks." I said and sighed again.

"Are you… are you going to keep it?" Her question uttered in a somewhat anxious tone surprised me, I had thought she would ask about the father first.

"I'm not sure yet. The doctor told me to think about it and I will." I laughed. It was not a happy laugh, though. "She told me to contact the father too… If I want to."

"It would only be fair, I guess." Angela swallowed hard and gave me a measuring look. "If you want to, that is. Who… who is the father?"

Pain ripped through me and I smiled sadly at her. "What is the most complicated situation you can think of right now? Especially regarding contacting the father."

"Booth." She whispered and hearing his name did it. My emotions overwhelmed me and the tears that had refused to come earlier, suddenly filled my eyes, streamed down my cheeks and a sob tore itself from my throat. I was a little astonished at myself, but I could not control the tears nor the pain.
"Yes." I croaked and then, I didn't say anything else for hours. Angela, wonderful friend that she was, held me, let me cry and whispered soothing words. They did not help, but she did all she could and I was grateful I had somebody to turn to, somebody to hold me and tell me that everything was going to be alright. Even if it was not true and I knew it.

Soooooooooooooooo what do you think about this story so far? I hope you like it! And... Booth is the daddy, as so many of you guessed. Really, as if I could have her anybody else's baby. ;)