A Good Workout - K+ - posted by saraluvzbones [13/09/2007]

Rating: K+
Pairing: B&B
Genre: Angst (with a tiny bit of fluff)
Summary: Booth makes Brennan really mad. Find out what he did.

Prologue
Brennan turned over again, trying to get comfortable, but sleep just wouldn't come. She looked at the clock; it was almost 2AM. How did this happen? I can't feel this way about him. I can't even remember what we were arguing about anymore, only the searing look he gave me when I ordered him to leave. I felt like he was seeing all the way into my soul.

She shifted again, fluffing her pillow and willing herself to sleep. But her mind was still racing. I can't believe I didn't notice that he made it through the last of my walls. I wonder how long I've been in love with him. What I am going to do now? And suddenly she realized that it was all his fault. Her frustration from their fight earlier in the evening came flooding back, magnified by the epiphany that her protective walls had been breached. With one look, he had stripped away her self-delusion about the nature of their relationship. Her smoldering frustration blazed into full-blown anger.

Brennan wasn't going to get any sleep tonight. She got out of bed and yanked on jeans and a tank top. She grabbed her keys and purse and slammed the door as she headed for the car. Almost without thinking she drove to his apartment. She stomped up the stairs and started pounding on his door.

--Last edited by saraluvzbonz on 2007-09-13 07:54:31 --

Posted 13/09/2007 03:38:27 PM by kinseyjo

sara! this is going to be SO GOOD! KEEP GOING!! Can't wait to read more!

Posted 13/09/2007 04:03:10 PM by beaglelvr93

OH my goshness! Totallly neeeddd morrreee.

LOVED IT!

Posted 13/09/2007 07:43:09 PM by saraluvzbones

Chapter 1: Emotion

Booth awoke suddenly when he heard the loud knock on his door, interrupting a pleasant dream. He squinted at the clock: 2:35AM. Who was making so much noise at this time of the morning? It was loud enough to wake the neighbors. Half awake, he stumbled to the door to tell them off.

He pulled open his door. "Bones?" The scolding to died on his lips. He opened the door wider, inviting her in. He watched her as she entered, taking in the way her clothes fit like a glove even as he noticed the anger practically radiating from her. She looks so beautiful when her eyes flash like that.

Brennan stalked into his apartment, her brain still going a mile a minute. He answered the door in his boxers. I can't believe he looks so good when he just rolled out of bed, with his tousled hair and sleepy eyes. Come on, Bren, get a grip! It's not like you haven't seen good-looking men before. This thought added fuel to her anger and she turned to Booth. She pointed her finger at him and opened her mouth to yell, but no words came out.

Booth realized that Brennan was way beyond angry. An idea came to him and he motioned for her to wait a minute. Then he walked to his bedroom, pulled on sweatpants and a T-shirt and grabbed a pair for her. He tossed the clothes to Brennan and said, "I think we would both benefit from a good workout." She gaped at him momentarily and then went to his bathroom to change. Whew. I was afraid she was going to yell at me for that. I really need to get her to the gym before she starts shouting and wakes the neighbors. At least the gym is in the basement where we won't be heard or disturb anybody. I wonder what made her so angry. She was a little more worked up than usual after our argument this evening, but it can't be that. It was just one of our usual gun, driving and alpha-male tendencies arguments.

Brennan threw on the clothes Booth handed her. The smell of his aftershave and laundry detergent calmed her a bit.

When he heard the bathroom door open, he grabbed his keys from the table in the hallway and ushered her out the door of his apartment and down the stairs, hurrying to keep up with her. The gym was normally closed at this time of night so he unlocked one of the locks and picked the other quickly. Booth breathed a sigh of relief as the door closed behind him. At least now we'll have some privacy. I wonder how long it will take until she just blows up.

Brennan looked at the equipment in Booth's gym. Physical exertion is a logical response to anger. Which one of these will help me work out my anger the quickest? Deciding on the chest press, she adjusted the machine and began to work out, almost slamming the bar to the top. The movement felt good and it relieved some of her physical tension, but it did nothing to ease her emotional turmoil or calm her racing thoughts.

From his position stretching on the mat, Booth watched as she switched from the chest press to the leg press and began to exercise her legs with equal vigor. Working out with Bones is distracting. No woman should look that good in my clothes. Booth started with the bench press, glancing at her often. I don't know how much longer I'll be able to stay on the partner and friends side of our line. She's so much more than I imagined one woman could be. As he worked out, he admired her movements as she worked her way one by one through the machines that exercised the various muscle groups. This is not helping. She's still just as worked up as she was when she knocked on my door. But she looks amazing. He suppressed a groan of frustration. Stop it, you can't think about her that way; it only makes things harder… Maybe it will help if she hits something, works out her aggression.

Booth went to the closet, retrieved a couple of punching bags and set them up over the mat. "Hey Bones, how about a change of pace?" he called. Brennan looked up and said, "Sure." She began with a few punches and moved on to a variety of punching and kicking combinations. Hitting something feels good. She poured her anger into her moves and began to hit the various bags with increased force. This was a stupid idea. What was I thinking, coming to the person who made me feel this way in the first place? Just looking at him makes me angrier. I can see he's trying to help me work this out, but this is not going to be enough. She could feel him watching her, so she pummeled the bags with more and more power as her thoughts continued to whirl and emotions flooded her.

Watching the increasing intensity of her moves, Booth realized that this wasn't working either. "Bones… do you want to talk about it?" he asked cautiously.

"No," she spat back. She turned on him began to throw a punch in his direction. He caught her fist with his hand. "You want to spar?" he asked. At her nod, he took his stance and they began. He watched her carefully, countering her moves, and then switched from defending himself to attacking her. Brennan defended herself and started an onslaught of powerful blows. Booth quickly realized that she wasn't in control anymore. Not wanting to find out if she could really take him down as she claimed, he said, "Maybe we should stop. I'm beginning to loose steam." Another punch and a kick came his way. He blocked the punch, but her kick hit him in the stomach and he bent over with a groan.

It took Brennan a minute to register that he had spoken to her and was doubled over in pain. She dropped her offensive stance. "Working out isn't helping," she ground out.

"I can see that. Which is why I asked if you wanted to talk about it," he panted. He stood up painfully. "I'm going to have a huge bruise from that last kick of yours. At least it was my stomach and not my eye. Imagine having to explain a black eye to Cullen in the morning." He laughed lightly hoping that a little humor would help.

Her anger blazed and he felt its full force directed at him. She poked him firmly in the chest. This is all your fault," she yelled.

Booth was confused. He began to rack his brain for anything that he might have done to upset her this much, but couldn’t come up with a single thing. "My fault? What did I do?"

"You looked at me," she said in an accusatory tone.

Booth gave a tight laugh. Now she's not even making sense. "Um, Bones? I look at you regularly. Making eye contact with the person you're talking to is a normal part of communication."

Booth mentally braced himself for a tirade, hoping that it would make more sense than her last sentence. To his surprise she wilted to the floor and began to sob. He sat down next to her, wrapped his arms around her, and waited for her tears to abate. When she turned in his arms, he pulled her onto his lap, and rocked back and forth gently.

Although he wasn't glad that she was crying, Booth reveled in the feeling of embracing Brennan. This feels so right. I can't believe she's letting me hold her like this. I've never seen her so emotional – full-blown anger to tears in one night. She's even beautiful when she cries. He felt her sobs slow and he breathed a small sigh of relief. He stopped moving and wondered if she would be angry with him again when she realized that he was holding her.

Eventually Brennan's body couldn't handle the intensity of her emotions anymore. She became of aware of her surroundings and her thoughts settled. Being in Booth's arms feels so good. He's probably confused. I know that I am. What do we do now? I can't go back to the way things were. He's too far under my skin and inside my walls. I don't think I could ever get him back outside my walls; he was too persistent in trying to break them down.

She must be thinking awfully hard since she hasn't chastised me for holding her yet. Booth tightened his grip on her just a bit. I don't want to let go. I think I could hold her in my arms like this forever and it still wouldn't be enough. Whoa, buddy. I have to stop thinking like that. She doesn't see me that way and if I don't stop I'll ruin what we already have.

Brennan's thoughts continued in a more logical pattern than they had all evening. Since going back isn't an option, what are my choices? I could try to get Goodman to stop sending me in the field or I could ask for a new partner. I could try and get a new job somewhere else and move. I wouldn't see Booth as often, or at all. I would miss him, but it would be safe. He wouldn't understand and he would probably be hurt. Or, I could tell him how I feel and see what happens. I know he cares about me. He's my friend; I've told him more of my secrets than anyone and he hasn't left me yet. But he's never indicated that he sees me as more than a friend. I need to think about this some more.

As Brennan started to move, Booth opened his arms and let her go. They both stood up. He wanted to ask her about what happened, but was afraid that he would disturb the delicate emotional balance she had achieved in the past few minutes. He wasn't sure he could handle much more. Like normal, he put his hand to her back and guided her toward the door.

The light touch of his hand on her back sent pleasant chills through her body. Instead of ignoring them, as she usually did, or chalking them up to his alpha male possessive instincts, she now recognized they were a small sign of her feelings about him which she had previously disregarded. Perhaps I could get an answer to my question about his feelings for me by observation. Certainly I've spent plenty of time observing him, trying to understand how he reads people so well.

Booth ushered Brennan back into his apartment. "Bones, would you like some water?" he asked. "After that workout, I'm totally parched." At her nod, he went to the kitchen and poured two large glasses of water. When he returned, Brennan was sitting on his couch obviously still deep in thought. He wondered what was so engrossing, but simply handed her the glass of water. Taking a large swallow from his own glass, he looked at the clock. It was 4AM. He was worn out both physically and emotionally by the events of the last hour and a half.

He finished off his glass of water and noticed that Brennan had as well. "Would you like some more water?" She shook her head, so he cleared the glasses away. Deciding it would be better to give her time to gain her equilibrium than to push the issue of what happened, he said, "I'm beat. I'm calling into the office to let them know I'll probably be in late, and then I'm going back to sleep," he told her from the kitchen doorway. "You're welcome to stay. I keep the guest bed made up, in case I have an unexpected guest." She acknowledged his words with a small nod.

After phoning Cullen and leaving a voicemail about arriving late, he found Brennan asleep on his couch. He grabbed a blanket and pillow from his linen closet. He shifted her head and put the pillow underneath it and carefully pulled the blanket over her sleeping form. Unable to resist, he smoothed her hair back from her face and then sought his own bed. He fell asleep in the middle of wondering whether or not he should have called her office too and what in the world had upset her so much.

Posted 14/09/2007 00:40:53 AM by Switch

OMG...i love this...its so good...i loved the fighting/sparring scene...continue soon!!

Posted 14/09/2007 00:45:56 AM by miller0259

aww, poor bones...I hope she can tell him!

Posted 15/09/2007 07:57:58 PM by saraluvzbones

AN: So this chapter isn't too long, but it's setting up for the rest of the story.

Chapter 2: Running Away

Brennan awoke in an unfamiliar place with a splitting headache. Where am I? And then everything came flooding back to her. She glanced at her watch, squinting in the darkness to read its face. 5:45. I can't stay here. I really need time to think. She pushed the blanket back, sat up quietly, and scanned the floor for her shoes in the dim light from Booth's various electronic devices. After looking for a minute, she abandoned her search. She didn't want to turn on a light for fear of waking Booth. I hope the floor doesn’t squeak. She padded silently toward her purse and the door.

Grabbing her bag, she unlocked the door, slipped out, locked the lower lock, and closed the door. Whew! I made it. She breathed a sigh of relief and hurried out of the building toward her car. When her bare feet touched the sidewalk, she shivered. Oh, that's cold. I wish I could have found my shoes, but if I turned on the light to look for them I would have woken Booth. She minced toward her car, got in, and headed home.
______________________________________________________________________________

A quiet sound woke Booth from his fretful sleep. I hope Bones is okay. He turned on the light and headed to the living room. She wasn't sleeping on his couch anymore. Booth went to the window and saw her car turn out onto the street. So much for talking with her when we woke up. He turned back to the room and noticed her shoes. I can't believe she left without her shoes. He scrubbed his hand through his hair. I really need more sleep, but this whole thing is just getting to me. He sat down on the couch and turned the TV on to a morning news show. Pulling the blanket around him, he inhaled her scent. I should call Brennan in a few minutes to make sure she made it home safely. She'll probably yell at me, but I need to know she's alright. As he waited, the lack of sleep and the lulling sound of the TV conspired against him and he fell into a deep sleep.
______________________________________________________________________________

Once home, Brennan left a message for Cam informing her that she'd probably be in late and plopped her phone in its charger. She swallowed an Advil to relieve the pounding in her head and headed for the shower. Stripping off Booth's t-shirt and sweatpants, she stepped under the nozzle. The warmth of the water was relaxing. I need to figure out what to do. I need some uninterrupted time to think. When Booth wakes up, he'll want me to talk and I'm just not ready for that. Booth. She smiled at the thought of him, and then frowned as the confusion of the night before came back to her. Come on, Bren. Focus. So I can't go to work or any of our usual hangouts. She finished rinsing the shampoo out of her hair, turned off the shower and grabbed her towel.

Figuring out how to get some time alone took Brennan through the rest of her morning preparations and her first cup of coffee. She tossed her phone into her purse and walked out the door, locking it behind her. She walked down the street to a coffee shop and purchased a latte and a Danish. She glanced at her watch. They won't be open until 8. She walked a few block to the park and sat down on a bench. A light breeze caused her to shiver. She zipped her coat and took a drink from her coffee. Okay. So now I'll have some time to think. I should consider all the factors. What's a good way to make sure I don't miss anything? I could start with all the relevant categories of data to be considered.

She reached into her purse and grabbed a small notepad and a pen. She wrote down several items, stopped to think and then penned a few more. When she finished her brainstorm the list contained a handful of categories. Taking a bite of her Danish, she looked at her watch again. Just a few minutes until I can make my call. Not enough time to start on one of my categories. She pulled out her cell phone, started the web-browser and perused CNN's headlines.

When the time on her phone showed 8:01, she got up. If I really don't want to be found right away, I'd better use a pay phone. I'll bet it wouldn’t be that hard for Booth to pull my phone records and I'm not ready to deal with him yet. After wandering a block or two, she spotted one across the street. She pushed a few coins in the slot and dialed a local number.
______________________________________________________________________________

A sudden change in the volume of the TV startled Booth to wakefulness. He stared at the TV blearily for a moment and then stumbled to the kitchen for some coffee. The time on the microwave, 8:37, startled him. I can't believe I fell asleep with the TV on. What a night. My brain feels stuffy. Booth leaned against the counter and sipped his coffee, too muzzy to even think about calculating the actual amount of sleep he had gotten. He put his coffee cup in the sink and headed for the shower.

His bed looked so inviting that he almost decided to get back in it. I hope a shower will wake me up like it usually does. He wandered into the bathroom, started running the water to get it warm, and looked at himself in the mirror. I have definitely looked better. Remembering Brennan's kick, he pulled off his shirt and examined his stomach. A large bruise covered most of his abdomen. He touched it experimentally and winced. Stripping out of the rest of his clothes, he stepped into the shower. Inevitably his thoughts turned toward Brennan and he frowned. What's going on with her? She said it's my fault, but how could my looking at her cause that? As a matter of fact, I don't think she said or did one logical thing all evening. Something must be really wrong. Mental pictures of Brennan started playing in his mind like a slideshow: their handshake agreeing on her full case participation, her expression of relief when he saved her from Kenton, the glint in her eyes as she protested her ability to take care of herself, the sadness on her face when she identified her mother, the almost child-like quality of her drug-enhanced excitement about the mummy in the wall, how seductive she looked wearing the little black number he'd bought her in Vegas... and the images kept coming.

Booth smiled. Bones is a remarkable woman. Not many people could have survived what she's been through, but she came out on top. Most people never see past the clinical exterior she presents, but once I did I realized just how wrong most of my first impressions were. There's so much fire in her, and it makes her beautiful. She looked incredible last night. Wait. Why am I thinking about how she looked last night? Booth suddenly realized that he had irrevocably crossed the line.

Posted 18/09/2007 01:05:12 AM by saraluvzbones

Chapter 3: The Search Begins

Booth winced as he stretched his arm to reach that hard-get-spot on his back with the soap. As he rinsed off, the warm water from the shower ran in rivulets over his well-defined muscles. He turned off the water and reached for his towel. He carefully toweled his hair and body, trying not to stretch his sore stomach muscles too much. He tentatively patted at the bruised area, attempting to remove the water without pain. He moaned. If I don't take something to dull the pain I'm going to moving like an old man all day.

Booth stepped out of the shower and continued his morning ritual, albeit much more slowly than usual. The caffeine in his coffee hadn't done much to combat the lack of sleep. He grabbed a shirt and suit and started to get dressed. Anticipating the difficult conversation to come, he selected his loudest tie, largest belt buckle, and craziest socks. He glanced in the bathroom mirror. Not bad, all things considered. He grabbed a bottle of Advil from the medicine cabinet, dropped it in his pocket, and went to get another cup of coffee. I wonder how many cups it will take before I'm really awake. He poured his coffee in a travel cup and swallowed a couple of Advil with a sip before fastening the lid. Grabbed a napkin and a bagel, he headed to his SUV.

He pulled out of the parking lot and headed toward work. I hope Bones went home to sleep, but she's probably absorbed in her work and oblivious to the passage of time. We really need to talk; I hope she hasn't decided to avoid me out of embarrassment or something. The fact that she came to me last night and shared her emotions shows how much she trusts me, but I'll bet things look different to her rational mind this morning. I hope I don't have to pry her out of her shell. Booth laughed at the mental image of a clam with Brennan's face and voice. If she were one, she'd probably snap shut on my fingers all the time. Thinking about her face, brought memories of her crying in his arms the night before. I'm sorry that she was upset and crying, but I'm not sorry for the chance to hold her. Even with the tears she was beautiful; she was vulnerable and she needed me. It's a nice feeling to protect her without having an argument about it, yet anyways. In that moment he realized that not only had he stepped over the line, but that it had happened a long time ago and he had been denying it.

After circling through the rows to find a spot, Booth parked his vehicle and began the long walk to his building. He twisted side to side experimentally, pleased to discover that the Advil had done its job and he could move without discomfort. His phone rang. He glanced at the Caller ID.

"Hi Angela. What's up?" Booth asked.

Her voice sounded a bit panicked. "Have you seen or heard anything from Bren? Nobody here has seen her and she's not answering her phone."

Booth carefully considered his reply. He really didn't want to get into the events of the night with Angela. "Not since last night," he answered truthfully. "Have you talked to Cam? I'm sure she would have called in if something came up."

"She usually calls me and asks me to let Cam know. I think she prefers not to deal with Cam, unless she has to. But Cam has been in a meeting all morning. You know Bren is never late for work and she always answers her phone."

Although Booth said, "I'm sure she's fine," inside he was starting to panic. Brennan had left his house a bit before 6AM and hadn't been seen or heard from since. "Given all the extra hours she's been working lately, her exhaustion probably caught up with her. I'll run by her apartment and check on her." Maybe Bones is trying to avoid Angela for some reason. He rang her cell. No answer. He turned and jogged back toward his SUV. She probably just fell asleep and her phone battery died. Worried, he pulled out of the parking lot and sped toward Brennan's apartment, ignoring the speed limit and tapping his fingers on the steering wheel with impatience as he waited at lights. He screeched into the closest parking spot to Brennan's apartment building and gave a small sigh of relief when he saw her silver car in its usual spot.

He knocked on her door and waited. He knocked again, louder. Nothing. He pulled out his cell phone and called her home phone. He could hear the sound of the phone ringing. Deciding that a long apology would be a worthwhile trade for peace of mind, he pulled out his keys and, for the first time, used the spare she'd given him in case of emergencies.

Her apartment was quiet as he entered. A coffee cup sat on the counter. He checked the main living area, her office, and the guest bedroom. With a bit of trepidation, he pushed open the door to her bedroom and peered inside. The shades were down, throwing the room into shadow. Booth flipped on the light. She wasn't in bed and there were no sounds coming from her bathroom. He noticed his discarded t-shirt and sweatpants on the top of her laundry basket.

The panic returned with greater force. He looked around her apartment a second time, taking in the details. Nothing appeared to be out of place or missing. She was here earlier, but now she's gone. Booth dialed Brennan's phone again and this time he left a voicemail.

As he locked the door to Brennan's apartment, her next-door neighbor, a middling-sized woman with graying hair, attempted to unlock her door while holding several very full grocery bags. Maybe she heard something. Booth offered to hold the bags while the woman opened her door. She smiled at his politeness.

"Hi, I'm Special Agent Booth with the FBI. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"

The woman looked apprehensive, but bravely replied, "I'm Mrs. Marsh. I don't think I've done anything wrong. Why would you want to ask me questions?"

Booth reassured her. "You haven't done anything. Your left neighbor is my partner and I've been trying to reach her. I was wondering if you might have heard anything?"

"I almost never see her. She's rarely home. I did hear a door that direction shut not too long before 8AM. It could have been her apartment or the one across the hall from her. I left soon after to run some errands. I'm sorry I can't be more specific."

Booth thanked Mrs. Marsh and headed downstairs to see the building supervisor. After a bit of fast-talking and some mild pressure, the supervisor agreed to show him the security tapes from that morning. The tapes confirmed his supposition: she had entered her building not long after she'd left his place and had exited the building at 7:47AM. His worry grew more urgent. Who knows what trouble Bones has gotten into this time. She could have been kidnapped or attacked. Calm down, man. You have to be able to think clearly. Don't jump to conclusions without evidence

Booth dialed Angela on the way to his SUV. "Hi, Ange. Has she called you?"

In reply to Angela's negative response, the tone of his voice took on a bit of desperation. "She's not in her apartment. I spoke to one of her neighbors who thought she left sometime before eight. The security tapes confirmed it. I called her a couple of times, but she didn't answer."

"Cam finally got out of her meeting. Bren called her this morning to say she didn't feel well and would probably be in late," Angela informed Booth. "But I'm worried. She's not at home or at work. Zach really needs to consult with Bren about their latest skeleton; he's driving Hodgins crazy. We're all a little bit on edge."

"Why don't you guys see if she's at the diner or Wong Foo's and any other places she frequents near the Jeffersonian? Do you know any places near her house that she goes to regularly? I'll check those since I'm already here."

After noting down the places Angela mentioned, Booth called his boss. Instead of going into the details, he simply explained that he needed Brennan for something work related and hadn't found her yet.

Hunger began to gnaw at him and he realized that it was 2:30. He stopped at a nearby deli and grabbed a sandwich. He inhaled it and then proceeded to the places Angela listed. At each location he showed a picture of Brennan and asked if anyone had seen her. One by one he marked them off the list. No one remembered seeing her. With each location his concern ratcheted a notch higher.

The second to last place on the list was a coffee shop. As he entered, he glanced around and noticed the comfortable and welcoming atmosphere. He ordered a large cup of coffee and repeated his query. Holding out the picture, he said, "Have you seen this woman? She might have come here any time after 7:30 this morning." The barrista shook her head and replied, "I haven't seen her, but Janice was here all morning. She should be back from her break in a few minutes."

Booth indicated that he'd wait for Janice and went to an empty table and sipped his coffee. He tried hard not to panic. Nobody's seen her since this morning. That's not so long only five or six hours. Not enough time to report her missing, but this is Bones we're talking about. She tends to think she can handle situations alone when sometimes she needs help. Given the number of criminals she has helped convict, there are probably a good number of people who'd like to see her stop doing her job. And then there's Mara Muerte. They rescinded the hit, but if an opportunity came along… These thoughts did not comfort Booth, and he was glad when a woman with the nametag Janice slid into the seat across the table from him.

He anxiously repeated his query and was reassured when she recognized Brennan's picture. His relief was short-lived, however, since Janice followed that by saying Brennan had been one of the first customers she'd helped that morning. "When did your shift start?" Booth asked.

"I got here around 7:30, but I didn't start making coffees until about 7:45."

Booth thanked the woman for her help. He dialed Angela. She hadn't found Brennan either. "I'm going back to her apartment to see if she's come home and then I'll head your direction," Booth told Angela before he hung up.

After returning to her apartment and finding it disappointingly empty, Booth's attempts to control his panic began to fail. As he pointed his car in the direction of the Jeffersonian, thoughts of using more serious investigative techniques occupied his mind.

AN: Those of you who have read my other stories know that I don't usually make comments about not getting reviews... but seriously people. None at all? I may start holding chapters hostage if something doesn't happen. Unless you're all reading it on the boneyard or fanfiction.net and then I'll forgive you.

Posted 18/09/2007 01:30:04 AM by BGWGscienceteacher

Actually, yes I have been reading them at the boneyard, but I'll put a comment in here for you too. WHERE IS BONES???????????? Love the story, especially Booth being near panic when he can't find her. He needs to find her so that we can have some fluff or better yet smut PPS

Posted 18/09/2007 02:19:01 AM by saraluvzbones

Quote :WHERE IS BONES????????????


You'll find out in the next chapter. :-)

Posted 18/09/2007 02:30:31 AM by CheeseBK

I love it... please update soon!!!

Posted 18/09/2007 12:00:40 AM by bandbi

Great start... looking forward to finding out what freaked her out so bad!

Posted 19/09/2007 03:59:47 PM by saraluvzbones


AN: Thanks for the reviews. I wish that the site would say how many people viewed each message, so I'd know that people had read it. Then I wouldn't the reviews to see if people like it. This chapter explains a lot. Oh, bandi, love the avatar.

Chapter 4: Deep Thoughts

"Hello?" Brennan spoke clearly into the phone.

"Georgetown University, how may I direct your call?"

"I need to reserve a study carrel," said Brennan.

Brennan made the arrangements and then hung up the phone. This was a good idea. I'm unlikely to be disturbed there. She crossed the street and headed toward the nearest Metrorail stop. After transferring lines and disembarking, she took the shuttle to Georgetown.

Brennan disembarked and walked briskly toward the library, enjoying the fresh air and the balmy weather for the short time it took her to get there. After she walked in the doors and turned off her cell phone as the sign directed, she headed toward her study carrel. Ignoring the chair in front of the desk, she sat in the beanbag chair in the corner of the small room. She pulled out her notebook and looked at the first item: how exactly had this happened? In the beginning he was just plain annoying. He had no respect for my work, and not much for science, either. He acted like knew everything and his ego was bigger than… wait, his ego and attitude haven't really changed. After we worked a few cases together, things improved. He stopped getting in my way, and he even started helping me with my parent's case.

Thinking about her parents made Brennan uncomfortable. Pushing those thoughts firmly away, she returned to her list. Booth saved my life several times and I saved his. Anthropologically speaking such situations create strong bonds between people. I work with him all the time and it was inevitable that either we would either be good friends or at each other's throats. We share each other's secrets. He's consistently been there for me through everything that's happened. How good he looked when he opened his door a few hours before derailed her train of thought. Those boxers didn't hide much of his body. His biceps are very well defined, as are his pectorals. What I could see of his rear looked very well toned. I wonder if it feels as good as it looks? She blushed at the direction of her thoughts. Wait…I can't go there. I'm thinking about how and when my feelings for him changed. Maybe all of Angela's innuendos and blatant suggestions had something to do with it. She's always reminding me of what she considers his "finer" qualities and pushing the two of us together.

Brennan reached for her bag and pulled out a bottle of water. She twisted the cap off and took a long drink. She shifted in her seat. We are friends and he obviously cares about me. He comforts me when I'm upset, explains pop culture references to me, and makes sure that I eat. He believes in me; he's always so sure that I'll find the evidence we need to get the bad guy. But none of those things are definitive. He treats me differently than other women, but then I am his partner. Angela says that there's more than friendship between us, and she's pretty astute about relationships. She figured out how I felt before I even had a clue. She could be right about the rest of it, but I need a little more than her word to prove it.

Brennan got up to stretch her legs. She exited her sanctuary and strolled around the library, the slightly musty smell bringing to mind many hours of productive study in various libraries. She returned to her thinking spot. She looked back at her list. There are many ways we complement each other; I'm the head and he's the heart. Neither of us would be able to catch criminals as effectively on our own. We do argue. He can be so stubborn, the alpha male always trying to dominate. But when it comes to the important things, he handles those carefully. I'm blunt and sometimes unaware of the social niceties, but Booth smoothes things over. He forces me out of my shell and pushes me to try new things and see things in new ways. Two years ago I would have said he was the last person I'd fall in love with and look at me now. I've changed a lot since we first met. I've never been good at relationships, but most of my other ones were more about satisfying biological urges than anything else. Maybe Booth and I could be different; he knows me better than anyone else I've been with and he hasn't run away yet.

A knock on the door interrupted her train of thought. She opened the door. A girl with long black hair said, "I've reserved this room for the next few hours." Brennan glanced at her watch. It was lunchtime. "I'll grab my stuff and get out of your way," she said.

Brennan's stomach growled. She stopped at a Thai restaurant nearby and ordered her food to go. As she sat on a bench eating, she enjoyed the trees and the grass and observed the students as they moved past her. Some hurried, but others strolled along. A couple walked by hand in hand and sat down under a nearby tree. She watched them. The blond-haired guy whispered something in his girl's ear and she laughed. She turned toward him and started to speak, but stopped, ensnared by his eyes. Some people might have felt awkward observing the intimate moment, but Brennan was fascinated. She hadn't spent much time studying people in love. Her brain protested that love was no more than a release of serotonin, but her heart melted a little. As Brennan watched, the man started to kiss his girl softly. Her mind went into overdrive. Sometimes Booth and I look at each other that way. It's what happened yesterday that started all this. But he's never done more than look away or clear his throat and make a lame joke. I wonder if he's ever wanted to kiss me in one of those moments. Fascinated, Brennan continued to watch the couple. They soon noticed her attention and left. She stood up and tossed the trash from her lunch in nearby trashcan.

Brennan walked slowly back to the library, enjoying the feel of the sun on her skin. She was almost disappointed to see the library, and decided to walk a little longer. A relationship with Booth could really complicate our work. It would make it harder for both of us to focus and be objective. If we had a fight or broke up, that would make things really hard. Booth has become friends with my team and I wouldn’t want them to feel like they had to choose.

Brennan came around to the library again and made her way to her next study carrel. Since there was no beanbag, she was forced to sit on the chair. Our bosses might split us up. That wouldn't be good. I like working in the field and I don't want to work with someone else. I enjoy seeing him practically every day and our verbal banter energizes me. Last night's sparring did not go well, verbally or physically; I can't believe I kicked him so hard. Wait, did I remember to apologize? She shifted uncomfortably in the chair, partly because it was hard and partly from her discomfort at remembering her behavior last night. Some of her frustration returned, but thinking things through helped relieve the sharp edge of her emotions. Brennan couldn't sit in the chair any longer. She walked out of the room, scouted for an empty beanbag, and dragged it back with her. As she settled into the comfortable seat, her thoughts returned to Booth's potential lack of reciprocation of her feelings. I don't want to make a bigger fool of myself than I already have. If things go badly, maybe I'd better get away for a while, take vacation to a remote part of the world or participate in a dig.

The thought of not seeing Booth for a long time distressed her. Wow, I really have got it bad. But then he's an amazing guy. He manages to be a great father and do his job exceptionally well. And he always manages to look so good doing it. We can be at a crime scene for hours in the blazing sun and he still looks as fresh as when he walked into his office that morning. The socks, ties, and belt buckles are small ways he distinguishes himself from the other FBI-agent clones. As her thoughts tuned into this more pleasant channel, the events of the last 24 hours caught up with Brennan, and she gradually drifted to sleep. A smile graced her lips as she dreamed of Booth.

Posted 19/09/2007 04:10:58 PM by CheeseBK

i loved it.... her rationality is great.... as if you could analyze being in love

Posted 19/09/2007 06:20:20 PM by saraluvzbones

I don't think there's anything she believes can't be analyzed. And love? Don't get her started...