Hello Readers!

Okay, so after a bit of tossing and turning last night, I settled on the decision to re-write this chapter. A couple of reviews (really, thank you so much) made me realise that I needed to get more of a focus on a good reason for Booth to let her down. Also, by rewriting this chapter, it has opened to a better story. This new chapter really is so much better; I'm sorry for stuffing you around! Still new at this, and I'm still making a mess of things! :S

I am so sorry for screwing up: I promise I won't post another chapter again, unless I am 110% about it.

Thank you for staying with me, everyone, and again, I'm so sorry.

Xx G

19. A Drop In The Ocean

Folding the paper into three, he slid it inside the envelope, sealed it, and at last, felt relief. He could move on.

Moving through the living room, and settling the addressed letter with his pile of others to post, the reflection of a familiar frame caught his eye. Smiling, Booth realised that, regardless of his relationship with Hannah, the photograph of he and Brennan had never moved. They smiled at the camera, arm in arm, coffees in hand. It was another of Angela's shots.

Hannah would have had to have seen that photograph every day; she would have had to have seen the undeniable love that the two partners shared. At that moment, he accepted his ex's insecurities; who wouldn't have felt intimidated by something as significant as this picture of clear affection?

Taking the frame in his hands, he sunk down to the couch and gazed at it. He took in every aspect of her pretty face. The stubborn set if her jaw, the soft blush of her cheeks...and her eyes. The glittering luminosity of the blue iris'.

No doubt, both women were great people, in their own way. But there was a fine line of definition.

Hannah was 'hot'. But that was all.

Temperance Brennan, however - while people called her hot - he knew that she had an air of beauty. She was elegant. At heart, compassionate. Loyal. She was beautiful, inside out. There was a difference there.

"What was it that Bones had said?" he whispered aloud to himself. "That the peacock with the shiniest bobbles, and brightest feathers was the one that was always noticed. You said to me once that you looked past that, and saw the one who was real. You said that you saw me." He brushed his fingers across the glass that covered the smiling image of them both. "So why did it take me song long to see you?"

Glancing at his watch some time later, he countered that it was probably time to leave. Running his tongue over his teeth, examining for any food bits, he decided on a quick once-over with the toothbrush.

As the water gushed down the sink, and he squirted the toothpaste onto the little brush head, his cell sounded.

Still holding onto the toothbrush in one hand, and retrieving his phone with the other, her pushed the cell up to his ear and answered.

"This is Seeley Booth."

The person on the other line introduced themselves, and stated their purpose for calling.

Blood ringing in his ears, and flushing in panic, he looked up to meet his own reflection in horror.

The toothbrush clattered into the sink.

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-~B&B~-

.

"Hey, beautiful," Angela appraised as Brennan entered The Jeffersonian that evening.

Her friend blushed prettily, and removed her trench.

"You look beautiful," she told her, admiring the striking contrast her friend displayed in her navy blue Ralph Lauren piece. The length of the dress rested above the knees, modestly showed off her full cleavage, and had a flattering body cut that snugged at waist, but hung loosley down.

Brennan dipped her head, and although her face glowed colourfully with the carefully applied makeup, she knew that Angela could perceive the pale drawness hidden behind the foundation.

"Hello, my two beautiful ladies," Hodgins murmured, placing a quick kiss on Angela's lips, and another on Brennan's hand. "Shall I escort you both in?"

"I have to wait for Booth." Brennan turned her attention to the doorway.

"Has he spoken to you?" Angela asked.

"Not since three days." She looked doubtful for a moment, but she straightened herself and gave them a reasssuring look. "He said that he would come to this. He promised that he would be here before the band started...before I did my speech."

"Okay," her friend replied softly, taking her husband's arm. "We'll be in the expo room. Don't be too long, sweetie."

Brennan nodded and folded her arms across her chest.

Minutes passed. She began to pace. She glanced at her delicate dress watch around her wrist. Ten-thirty.

"C'mon Booth," she murmured quietly, watching the dark night for any sign that he was on his way. "Where are you?"

Yet more time passed. He was absent still.

"Dr Brennan?" Cam's cautious voice came from behind her. "You've been out here for almost an hour...it's time to make your speech."

Brennan's heart fell. Blinking roughly against the moisture that threatened in her eyes, she took a deep breath and nodded.

"I'm ready when you are," she replied evenly.

Cam motioned a following hand, and turned away.

The beautiful anthropologist threw one last look over her shoulder. The entrance remained empty.

Swallowing hard, she followed her boss to the sea of waiting people.

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-~B&B~-

.

"Why am I only finding out about this now? I mean what the hell-"

"Seeley, please, calm down. I-I didn't know what to do," Rebecca interrupted him, her voice heightened with worry. "I took him to emergency in the hospital, they told me that he had two hernia's where his intestines are. Normally, they said they would wait to perform the...but his condition..."

"So, let me get this straight," Booth hissed, shutting off the water and storming out of his bathroom. "You take care of our son every day, and you don't even notice when he is seriously sick?"

"The doctor said that, if I didn't know what I was looking for, it could have been easy to miss."

Booth took a deep, shaky breath. "When? When are they going to do it?"

"They want to do it right away, Booth. They don't want to take any chances. I promise you; I called you as soon as they told me."

Booth ripped his car keys from the hook by the door, and shoved his wallet into his pocket.

"I'm on my way right now, Bec," he told her as sanely as he could. "Tell the little man that I'm coming."

"I will, Seeley," she replied quickly, and he could hear the tears in her voice.

He disconnected and headed for hospital emergency, with the help of his sirens.

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-~B&B~-

.

"For the past two months, my grad students have been working tirelessly to perfect the exhibition you see tonight," Brennan told the crowd, all the while, eyes scanning the room for the only guest she wanted to see. "Their skills, and dedication are a great compliment to them. When my own assistant, Zack Addy, was deemed no longer fit to work by my side, I was devastated, and concerned that no one else could fill his shoes. Looking at these fine young people before me, I realise that, although they may not be Zack, they are something else entirely. I couldn't have been more proud to have these young citizens work with me, and each of them offers such great insight to so many of our cases and works, that some others could never do." She smiled down at Wendell, Clarke, Vincent, Fisher and Daisy. "Many hours have gone into researching, prepping and perfecting what you see tonight, so, as you work your way around the exhibition tonight, drink some champagne and have a dance..I ask that you recognise these people for their wonderful work." Brennan took the scissors in her hand, and brought them up to the ribbon. "On behalf of The Jeffersonian insitute, I open The American Civil War exhibition for the public." The red ribbon fluttered to the floor, and the room erupted into applause. Nodding, Brennan stepped down from the mic, as the room slipped into loud, merry chatter, and the jazz band picked up.

Angela met her with a glass of champagne.

"I hope that isn't for you," Brennan said immediately, giving her friend a disapproving look.

"No," Angela chuckled, placing a hand on her womb and giving it a rub. "I will go and retrieve an orange juice in a moment. This," she pointed to the glass, "is for you."

"Thanks Ange."

She passed Brennan the glass, and offered a small smile. "Where's Booth?"

Brennan's eyes clouded. "I don't know. I understand that we were still in the midst of a quarrel, but I am pained that he wouldn't come tonight." She sighed a wince. "Had everything been alright between us, I would have imagined the night to have gone far differently. Alas, I must have offended him worse than I though I did." Brennan took a huge mouthful of champagne, and hardly grimaced as the large dose of alcohol passed down her throat.

"What did you say to him, sweetie?"

Brennan shrugged. Took another sip. "I brought up Hannah again. I said that his professional judgement was clouded by the fact that our prime suspect resembled Hannah. Anyway,"- another gulp of alcohol was consumed -"apparently it wasn't alright for me to make such assumptions, no matter how innocent the intent had been."

Soon Brennan's glass was empty, and she was looking around for a waiter.

"So...you think him not showing up tonight, is his way of breaking up with you, or something?" Angela supposed, watching her friend with concern.

"I sincerely hope not. But that is what it feels like."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because...I know that tonight wasn't important in terms of myself, it was rather the fact that he made a promise, and he didn't keep it. Even when we argue, he is always the better man, and pulls through-" A waiter passed with a tray of beverages, and Brennan quickly swiped another glass.

Angela looked at her friend sadly.

"I always knew that I wasn't going to be good enough for him," Brennan stated, and she began to stroll through the crowd of chatting people.

Her pregnant friend kept up as best she could. "Bren, you've always been good enough for him. Always. He wouldn't stand you up like this, either, so something is probably up."

She received nothing but another dismissive shrug. "For crying out loud," she moaned in frustration. "Bren. Talk to me."

Brennan took off towards the darker parts of the building, and, when they were away from watching eyes, or attentive ears, she whirled around.

"It's my fault," she admitted tearfully. "I was wrong, and I feel pathetic for doubting him. There won't be one day, where I will not be comparing myself to Hannah Burley for the rest of my life. And, I will, because I am not her. I am not what Booth wants. And Booth wanted her."

Angela put out a comforting hand, but it was refused.

"He hasn't spoken to me since the case ended," Brennan continued, tears seeping over the corners of her eyes. "He was right about it, and I was wrong. Believe me...if he hadn't wished to talk to me before tonight, then rationally speaking, he wouldn't have come this evening." She slummed against the cold concrete wall. "Which he didn't. He hasn't come. I ruined it," she whispered, "I always ruin it."

Angela wanted to support her friend with words, but the right ones wouldn't surface. She settled for putting an arm around her best friend, who leaned into her, emotionally drained.

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-~B&B~-

.

"Thank you, Dr Brennan," Daisy Wick chimed ecstatically. "Your commendation was most invigorating."

Brennan plastered a smile, and put a hand on her grad student's shoulder. "You did an exceptional job, Miss Wick. I am proud of you." She was sure the young woman would have fainted, had she not been in amongst of such a flux of exiting people.

Sweets, who stood by his girlfriend's elbow, watch his friend appraisingly, trying to read the hurt he saw behind her eyes, but all the same, remaining perfectly in character as his girlfriend received praise.

"It's late," she then told the younger two, "I should be going soon, and so should you. We will talk again soon."

She maintained her position at the door, farewelling guests and fellow co-workers, although it probably wasn't necessary. A small part of her hope that one of the passing people would be Booth.

She had managed a short goodbye to Angela and Hodgins, a brief wave to Cam and a smile to other assistants of hers. Eventually, when they were all gone, she was the last.

He wasn't there.

Grasping onto her coat and purse, she stormed out into the evening, which was chilled but the lateness of the hour.

She had waited for him. For an hour in the foyer. All night.

He hadn't come. Booth had promised, and he hadn't shown. He had broken a promise to her.

Her chest felt tight, and her throat thick. She wanted to stay composed, but found that it was a losing battle. Her stride quickened, and she felt her knees weaken.

The tears began to fall in streaming flows at first.

She found herself allowing her belongings to clatter to the ground hopelessly, and she sunk against her car weakly. Clutching her torso with one arm, she covered her mouth with the other to muffle the painful sobs that erupted from her lips.

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-~B&B~-

.

Booth gazed at his sleeping boy with an overwhelming sensation of love. Parker had had the operation, was on the mend, and could otherwise continue life as normal.

He couldn't help revisiting what he had felt, when he had answered the phone, and it had been Rebecca telling him that Parker was being prepped for surgery. She hadn't explained a what, and a when, before he felt the cold fear trickle down his spine, and the sickness had overcome him. He had been dizzied by the image of his little boy attached to tubes.

Now that the horrors were over, however, and he was cramped sleepily in the armchair by his son's bed, he couldn't help but feel the stinging regret of what the night could have been like, in an alternate light.

He closed his eyes for a moment, thoughts full of the woman he loved. That night, he had wanted so badly to take her in his arms, and say that he would do whatever he could to be in her life. Unlike their murmured vows of love, from that night they had shared in bed a month ago, he had planned to profess his devoted heart to her. Tears of joy would have slipped from her eyes, his own would have welled, and he would have taken her home with him. He would have made love to her.

The dream had shattered, though, like a glass to tiles, and he had not only broken his promise to her, but probably her heart, too. He understood Brennan's tendancy to jump to conclusions when it came to 'people' situations. When it was anything to do with work, she was thorough, careful and just.

Emotionally though, Brennan would have jumped to the conclusion that he was still angry with her.

To be honest, he had no idea what thoughts would have gathered and processed in her mind, but he had a feeling that his son wouldn't be the only thing mending in his life.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, the first few moments of a new day ticked into motion, and he drifted into a restless sleep.

So, parts of the chapter remained the same, but I hope you agree that I made a good decision in changing the flow of this chapter. I definately thought I did.

Please don't hate me. I would really appreciate it if you told me what you think – please, be nice. I know I'm horrible at this, but I am trying. Promise!

Thank you for staying with me; really. I know that there are really dedicated readers out there, who are supporting me, and I promise you – I don't really make it by without you (alexindigo, forever-a-bonehead – you guys know that your support means the world to me!)

Thank you x

Xx G