Your Too Late, I'm Too Gone

Inspired by Song:

Apologize

By: One Republic

Here I sit on my worn out couch that has lived to see one too many sunsets. I can't really tell you why I am here, because if I could I probably wouldn't be. I would have already left, much like many have done before me in situations like these. But I just can't leave her like that. No matter how much it hurts knowing that by the end of the conversation, I probably will anyway. Unless by some miracle she fights for me to stay and see she has changed… but even that won't fix this.

I have heard it so many times before, I really shouldn't be granting her the courtesy of a face to face discussion now. I really should go into our - no – her bedroom, pick up my bag and leave with a note explaining why. But I won't do that. I won't go without this. I can't. I hurt too much. I won't grant her the satisfaction of feeling victimized, I won't let her feel betrayed, and I won't let her make this about her and HER needs!

Even though that is probably one of the most ridiculous statements ever said in the history of infidelity, because the reality is this all IS about her and the way SHE is treating me. I can't take it anymore. I can't live feeling like I don't deserve my happiness because I am afraid she will lose control of herself. What about ME! What about what I need and possibly want and possibly will do if I can't attain it? Does any of THAT matter? No.

No, it really doesn't.

So I sit.

I sit on this ugly couch I bought with her three years ago, because she convinced me I needed a new one; because she wanted a couch that "balanced female and male vibes" or some ridiculous bunch of crap somewhere along the line of that. I hate this damned couch. I wish I never would have bought it. Yeah, she forced ME to buy the couch SHE liked for no other reason than MY couch was too masculine. I mean- in the up most respect I can muster- SHE'S THE ONE WHO'S LOADED!! The very least you can do is buy the couch YOU like right?

I am rambling to myself now. I probably ought to try switching places with her former grad student in the Psych Ward so possibly they could load me up with anti-depressants or something. Hey, look at that, now I m bordering suicidal! There's a reason to go right? Okay, so I am not really suicidal. I haven't been since age ten. That probably doesn't sound reassuring, but I am too upset right now to care.

What gets me the most though is why? Why am I not good enough? Why am I not strong enough? Why am I so affected by this? Why do I care so much about her still? Why does she not see me as she sees … him? Why does she think I am not onto her game? Why can't she see how much I love her? Why after everything we have been through, does she not love me back? Why did she move in with me in the first place, or go to the trouble of stealing my heart? Why? Why, why, why?

I am almost certain I will never know, but I will ask her. I will ask her why. And I will get something out of her. Because it is the only thing I ask of her, even after everything she has put me through. It is the only thing I want of her now. Just that simple word answered. Why?

My eyes start fog with tears and I quickly blink them away. I won't let her see me cry. If it takes everything from within me, she won't see me cry. I will remain dignified. I will walk through those doors one final time with my head held high. It is my chance now to feel as if I deserve the right to be on the judging side. No longer will I let her lead things, this is MY time and she will listen to every word! Even if I have to handcuff and gag her, she is going to listen to me.

The lock on the front door clicks and I stuck in a breath. This is it. The moment of truth; the moment I grow up for real, and begin living my life for myself and Parker. When I have Parker, anyway. She is going to finally learn what it is that I have needed to say for months now.

So here I go.

"Booth, what are you doing up so late?" she asks with an edge in her voice as she tosses her keys. Her eyes roam over my sullen face and her anger is quickly replaced with fear. I believe she knows now why I have waited for over six hours for her, and she realizes this isn't a discussion she will easily escape or rationalize away.

"Do you realize, Bones that our dinner was supposed to be at 5:30 this evening, and it is now 11:45?"

"Booth…"

"And you never bothered to call or text or… anything?"I said to her in an expressionless voice to show how truly upset I am. She knows when I revert to stoicism first, I am beyond a little angry.

She stared me down slowly turning from fear to anger.

I couldn't believe this was really happening. Our love was supposed to last forever not crumble in a matter of three years. And the truth be told, I still loved her. And if she gave a sincere enough apologies I would probably forgive her. But I have to be strong. I have to remember this last year and the hell she has put me through. I can't be soft. If she loves me for real, she will chase and fight for me. If not, it was never meant to be. Why do I feel like such a girl?

"You are not my keeper. I got a little tied up in the office with some paperwork. We can have dinner anytime; I needed to finish those before the deadline."

"Oh, right. That's what it was. That is also the reason you are flushed in the face and have a hickey on your neck. Wow, I never realized paperwork could be so flustering." I gave back dripping with sarcasm as I stood up to begin slowly approaching her.

"What-What are you talking about?" she asked me while her voice wavered a little.

"What the hell were you really doing, Temperance? Because I know for damn sure it wasn't paperwork."

She studied my eyes as I stood over her. At first they showed someone who was unsure, but then they showed fear once again. She knows I know.

"Seeley, I…I…"

"You what? You were a little busy cheating on me?" I practically snarled.

Her face went aghast to my forwardness. Now she was at a total loss for words.

"Don't be so surprised, Brennan, I have known for long time. Too long really. I have just been waiting for you to come clean. But obviously you had absolutely NO intention of EVER telling me the truth! And as an added blow, you decide to see him instead of me ON OUR ANNIVERSARY NIGHT! You got some never Temperance to think that the one person who knows you better than anyone else on the face of the earth, wouldn't be able to figure out what the hell was going!" I heaved a heavy sigh before I said the next thing that broke my heart in half. "I just don't understand what I did to cause you to resort to sleeping with someone else. Am I not enough? Do you not love me at all? What did I do? Why would you do this to me? And wait a whole freaking year before you let this come out! Why, Bones, why?"

She was crying now and it took all of my resolve to not break down myself. I am not going to cry. I can't cry. PLEASE don't cry!

"I don't know. I really don't. I met him at the Jeffersonian Gala last year. And I was intrigued by his intelligence…"

"Wait, you mean that night I proposed to you and you said no?" I said my heart now completely in two. Goodbye resolve, I am now going to wind up balling my eyes out.

She sighed with a sniff, "Yes. It was that night. But it wasn't the reason I said no. So please don't jump to that conclusion!"

"Don't tell me to not jump to conclusions! You have no right to say that or tell me what to do! You lost it the night you traded me for some other guy!"

"Booth…I made a mistake. I can't take it back, but I can still save us."

"NO!" I suddenly shouted. I couldn't believe I said that. "No, Temperance, no! You are not going to do this to me again. I can't trust you anymore. You cheated on me. You- you threw me and my love to the wind for a little bit of fun! And you can't even tell me why. I have invested seven years total of my life in you. And tell me, what do I really have to show for it; you screwing someone because I don't do it for you anymore? Is that it, Bones? Was that why?"

"I DON'T KNOW! It was a mistake, he wanted to show me his artwork and one thing lead to another and…"

"And you said, 'What the hell. Booth doesn't have to know. And besides, how can he expect me to stand under monogamist tendencies? I only live once, this person willing, so why not?' Right?!" I screamed and then collapsed on the couch in a sob.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." She said as she slowly sunk to the floor.

"No you're not. You're sorry you got caught. If you were really sorry, you would have come clean. If you were really sorry, you would have said no and still told me what happened. If you were really sorry, we wouldn't be having this conversation. So no, Temperance, you are NOT sorry, you are just feeling guilty for breaking me. And guess what, you did. When I figured it out, nine months ago, I cried for at least four hours! That was the real reason I was at Hodgins' house for so long. Not that you ever really showed you cared. I guess you were BUSY!"

"Ho-Hodgins knows?" she stuttered with eyes as large as saucers.

"Of course! I needed someone to talk to. Why were you wondering why he has been too disgusted to be around you?"

"I just thought…I guess…I don't know." She sighed turning her blue pools to the floor.

"Yeah, your favorite three words." I say sarcastically while looking towards the wall behind her head.

"I really don't! It has never been because of you really. It's just because I needed an outlet away from my real life. And in the past two years, so much has happened; I just needed to feel alive again."

"ALIVE AGAIN?"I said fully surprised snapping my head back in her direction..

"Yes. I felt as if my life has been suffocating me. I needed someone who wasn't going to push at my feelings. We lost Angela, for god sake's. I needed away from everyone's pity!"

"Everyone's pity for you? What about Hodgins? He lost his wife and almost child!" I nearly scream in disgust.

"But she was my best friend before he even knew her." She argued.

"You're something else, you know that? A man loses his wife and unborn baby, and all you can think about is yourself. You can't face opening up to the person who loves you the most, so you go off? Angela was my best friend too! You don't think I was hurting? And that I maybe didn't want to have to face that either? You think you were the only one?"

"Of course I didn't, I just…I just wanted to feel something again. I just felt so numb."

"Well I really hope he gives you that." I say with another tear. She stares into my eyes and for the first time I wish she would just go away. I slowly stand and she lets me. I walk over to her and wait for something, ANYTHING from her to tell me this wasn't real. That I wasn't really going to leave the woman I love more than my own breath. That she hasn't really been living a lie for a year. And that I will wake up and Angela will still be giving her kinky remarks and I will still be whole.

She appeared to be reading my thoughts as we often have done. But this time it didn't comfort me. It gave me a sudden chill of hopelessness. This was real. But god, I didn't want it to be.

"I'm sorry you have to say goodbye, Booth. I am sorry I did this to you." She said in a breathy tone that used to make me wild and now only makes me want to vomit.

"I'm sorry too." I choke out.

"I need you, Booth. I don't know how to live without you."

"Well unfortunately for you and me, you really should have thought of the ramifications of your actions beforehand. I can take a lot. I can face a lot. Pain I'm used to. I know how to deal with it. But dishonesty is where I draw the line. And there was a time Bones that I trusted you more than anyone else. I let you into the dark crevices of my soul, and you betrayed me. You cut me at the knees and chucked everything I worked for with you away. I let you steal my heart and wrap myself inside you. I gave you every part of me. I loved you without condition. I accepted everything that came with you. I even, that night, accepted that you would probably never marry me. As far as I was concerned, as long as you were mine I can live without the white picket fence, 2 and half kids, and everything I ever thought I wanted. I now just want to know now before I go…why you don't love me back." I finish the tears flowing freely.

She stares at me for a long moment. And there it was. I saw it. This was for real. She doesn't love me at the same capacity. And I will leave with almost no dignity. I square my jaw, and walk toward the bedroom to grab my bag. She makes no move as I step back out. I walk to the door, and turn to look at her one more time.

She turns my way and I see her teary eyes. She mouth's two words. "I'm sorry." I shake my head and look back to the door. I respond as dignified as I can. "It's too late for that now. I'm already gone."

And with that, I take my hand and slowly turn the doorknob still slightly warm from when her hand was on it a few minutes ago. Once the door was open I remove my hand so fast I felt like I was retracting it from Anthrax or something. Using the wood instead, I close the door without another look her way. I needed to do this. I can't trust her anymore. She's destroyed me now.

She was the one I confided in; the one who knows all of my secrets. Even the one's nobody knows, or knows but doesn't understand. I thought…I thought…I guess I thought that meant something. But, god, I was so wrong. And now I realize it was probably wrong from the start. Maybe I was just fooling myself.

Or was I?

As I speed to Hodgins' estate I realized I probably looked worse than shit on a stick and really shouldn't be bothering him this late. But then again, it isn't like I'm an intruder or anything and over these last couple of years the two of us have gotten really close. Best friends for real now. After Angela died from complications during her miscarriage, it all but broke the man perfectly in two. And being how I am, I couldn't just let him be alone.

Bones had begun to do what she always does, and that is distance herself. At first I wasn't too terribly concerned because I knew it was how she coped and that eventually I would get her to put the wall down and three of us would begin to heal together. But she never did, and shortly thereafter, I proposed. And well…now you know the rest.

Sitting outside his gates, I punch in the code and pull into the garage to my newly designated parking spot. I smile to myself as I realize what great benefits having a rich friend brings. But just as that thought occurres it disappeares as I realized that money should be the last thing on my mind right now.

Getting inside with my key, I instantly drop my bag and start up the stairs desperate for a bed so I can cry in solace like a woman. Yeah, you can say that at this particular moment I felt THAT pathetic. I flopped down in the first room and heard someone moving up the stairs. The door pushed open and there was Hodgins holding my bag in one hand and a beer in the other.

"Hey, dude." He said in coming inside carefully. "You look like hell."

"Probably." I said and put my hands on my face.

"Beer?" he asked as he threw the bag down somewhere on the floor and went to sit in the chair.

"No. I want to sulk. I don't want to drown it yet. And anyway how did you know I was here?"

Hodgins smiled in the dark as he popped open the beer for himself.

"Call it intuition." He said tipping the neck of it towards me with a grave smile.

"You knew she wouldn't be there, didn't you? You knew I was going to be leaving her tonight." I said already knowing the answer.

"Yeah, I knew. But I didn't want to tell you. You are my best friend, man. I didn't want to be the one who hurt you."

"Pfft. Hodge, it DID hurt me. I am hurting so bad I feel like someone punched my heart out and then left it for me on a silver platter. I don't know what to do. She is my everything!" I say letting the tears start to fall.

Three years ago, I would have been leery to let someone-especially another man- see me cry. But Hodgins was different. After Angela, we tell each other everything. No holds barred. Emotional or not. We just decided that since she wasn't here, we had to pretend she was. Because if she WAS here, we would be doing this with her. So when either of us is hurting, we become Angela for the other. Weird maybe, but it made sense to us. And that is all that really mattered.

"Correction, she WAS your everything. Now you are going to move on. Taking a step at a time and realize that your life isn't over. Just like you told me to do when Ange and the baby passed. She's gone, Booth. Nothing you can do about it. It happened and now we are here. So get some sleep, and tomorrow you will begin to learn to live again. Parker needs a father off his dead ass. And the past year has done nothing but put you on it. So forget her. Or at least try to, anyway."

I looked his way knowing he was right. It was over. And it was time to grow up.

"Okay." Was all I said and he stood to make a silent exit.

I lie down and let his words sink in. The last thing I thought before I was asleep was…

"Too late for apologies, I am already gone."

Part II

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2 ½ years later

San Diego, California

"Mr. Booth, you have never been really clear as to what your inspiration for this book was. I myself must say, that it was truly inspirational to read about a young girl on the quest to finding herself, and only ending in tragedy with losing everything she has worked for; but still gets up at the end and keeps going. Please enlighten all of us here as to who the girl is in your mind."

Booth stared at him for all of thirty seconds ignoring the flashing of cameras, and moving of TV monitors; solely focusing on the man who just asked the million dollar question. Who is the person, and what do they mean to you? Well, he can't very well say that in reality it is boy who faces great adversity and still manages to pick himself up after getting trampled on yet again. He couldn't very well say, it was actually himself.

"Umm, what was your name?" he asked sheepishly for added affect.

"Uh, it was Stephen."

"Right, sorry, you had said that. Well, Stephen, I must say that I do not have the answer to that particular question. I wrote this because I believe that the girl lives inside all of us. Now gentlemen, do not be offended because I already hear you scoffing. Think about it. How many of you in here have been lied to? Raise your hand."

He waited and everyone raised their hand.

"Good. How many of you have been humiliated?"

Once again he waited and almost everyone raised their hand.

"Ah, so some are in denial. How many of you have been or have felt cheated?"

There was a hesitation and then everyone raised their hand.

"Very good. Last one, how many of you have been abused all of your life in one form or another, and still can't seem to move past it no matter what you do? Because you feel like, it wouldn't matter anyway, you are too much of a sucker that is hopelessly looking for someone to love them; when in reality, you just want to feel secure enough in yourself that maybe it isn't your fault you trust so much. Maybe you just try to do the right thing by wanting to find the good in people. Maybe it really isn't about loving the person or the other person loving you, maybe it is just about you learning to love yourself. No hands, this is just something I want everyone to think about. When you come to your conclusion, apply it. Thank you everyone for your time. I have truly enjoyed speaking for you here in San Diego."

With that the crowd erupted into applause and Booth turned to walk back through the curtain. He ignored the hustle and bustle brewing all around and headed straight for his dressing room. Or rather, his makeshift dressing room that was thrown together at the last minute by the building he was speaking in for the self-improvement seminar. He closed the door and fell back against it letting his head hit the mahogany colored wood hard. Closing his eyes to drown out the light pouring in through the small window, he sank to the floor whilst rubbing his hands over his face.

He couldn't believe it. Two years ago he was losing the love of his life and wallowing around in self-pity, and now he was speaking in seminars on how to better you. Ironic is the understatement in which he will not acknowledge. He kicked his feet out in front of himself and hit his head against the door again. He let that last question by the Stephen or whatever his name was get to him. He exposed too much of his soul for the public. He wasn't objective. How could he do that?

He knew how, he just didn't want to admit it. He sighed heavily and began to stand back up. This was his life now. All over the country promoting his book, and speaking on his thoughts for helping yourself. He had relinquished his spot as the liaison to the Jeffersonian, and quit his job as being a Special Agent. The memories were too painful. Instead he took desk duty, and began writing an auto-biography of sorts in a way that wasn't suspected. I mean, how brilliant was it to replace yourself with an entirely different gender to make sure that it wasn't even a question that YOU were the main character.

He still aids in cases from time to time, that required seasoned experience. And with his track record, he would have been insulted if they didn't come to him. However he makes a point to stay as far away from the lab as possible. And now since he is traveling all of the time, he merely works on occasion as a favor to his former boss who is struggling to keep the new guy in check. Sure, he still sees Cam every once in a while for drinks and a couple of laughs, and maybe just maybe he checks in on Zack at the Ward every few weeks; but he hasn't seen her since the night he said goodbye. As far as Hodgins goes, he quit the Jeffersonian and is now Booth's own personal manager. Hodgins had said it was because without Angela and him, the place was cold and empty.

He couldn't disagree with his thoughts. In fact he was almost certain that that was how it turned out. Besides, Parker needed his surrogate uncle to give full attention to him just as much Hodge does. With his void of fatherhood, he takes pride in looking after Parker. And what a vibrant boy he has become. Twelve years old now, almost thirteen; it blew Booth away just how much he'd grown. He was on the debate team, believe it or not. And because of Hodgins, he has an urge to study insects, slime, sludge, and other really gross stuff.

Staring out the window, he watched as his limo pulled up, people in hordes tripped over each other coming out of the building, and photographers stood an easy distance apart waiting for their perfect moment to get a great shot. He sighed again. Life in the big city, as the saying goes; next stop, San Antonio, Texas to speak in his touring seminar at the AT&T Center. What a great life to live out of a bag?

He walked over to the small table and pulled out his pen and paper to begin jotting down ideas for the sequel to his last book. The first was named, "Fighting as the World Falls Apart." The next he mused could be, "Running Like Hell Away From Hell Itself."

"That could work," he mumbled with sarcasm as a knock came on his door.

"Yes." He answered as a young, barely legal enough to do ANYTHING, girl came in dressed simply in jeans and a black t-shirt boasting the conferences' logo.

"Mr. Booth, Dr. Hodgins sent me to tell you that the car is ready and I quote, '…your stupid thumb needs to come out from under your stupid ass, and away from brooding long enough to get to the hotel so you can have some dinner.' His words, Sir, not mine." She finished sheepishly.

"Thank you, inform him I don't have my thumb up my ass and he needs to think on something other than his stomach for once in his life. And I appreciate your paraphrasing because knowing Hodgins as well as I know him, he said a lot more than just that. But I wouldn't have expected anything less of him." Booth said back with a smile at the girls' nervousness.

"I will, Mr. Booth." She said and began to leave.

"Thank you again."

He listened to her leave and made his way over to the window one more time to look at the collateral chaos.

"San Antonio, here we come." He mumbled and picked up his computer bag.

Downstairs, Hodgins was waiting coffee in one hand and papers in the other while balancing his blackberry on his shoulder for his ear to hear. He was decked out in stylish shades and trendy clothes ready for photo-opportunities as Booth has been told they are called. Sighing inwardly he approached putting his own stylish but not quite as flashy sunglasses on and stood next to him trying to focus on what he was speaking into the phone.

"Yes, sir we were informed…u-huh he had said he was trying to…no…I don't feel that is relevant…I'm sorry but we can't…he's my client and he says no, so in fact the no is bi-lateral…u-huh…sure right…(dramatic eye roll)…well then, I guess we will wait to see that…yes we not he…I am a man of my word, and I give you my word that he will be speaking there but there's no possible way he will agree to mention anything outside of the platform he stands on morally. So I guess you can get used to it…his personal life is none of the public's business…(loud sigh)…yes sir, I understand…no I got it(another sigh)…understood, I have to go. We need to prepare for San Antonio…yes we will see you D.C."

Hodgins sighed again and then angrily chucked his coffee cup in the nearby trashcan with a curse.

"Was that the publishing company again?" Booth asked gingerly as he noticed Hodgins' antagonized mood.

"Yeah, they don't know when to lay off. I'm sorry dude, but they are probably going to try and hatch some personal info out of you. I tried to stop it but it didn't work." He ripped off his glasses and wiped his brow with another sigh. "Damn them."

"I know what you mean. But let's go." He replied.

"Yeah, I need a beer something fierce."

"You really need to quit drinking so much." Booth gave back with a grin.

"Pfft, I will when you will." Hodgins said and then slapped his back in a brotherly fashion.

As they made their way to the door they were surrounded by a sea of bright lights flickering here, there, and everywhere; masking the faces of shouters asking questions and receiving no words. Once at the limo, Booth stopped to let Hodgins in first and then turned around to look at the crowd taking it all in. Two years and a half years ago, if you would have said that this would all be for him; he would have laughed while looking at you like you were nuts. Two and a half years ago if you would have said that he would one of the loneliest people on the planet, he still would have been skeptical. But here he is with both of those things. With a final wave he got inside and closed the door to yet another city.

Dubai, India

Same Day

Temperance Brennan was digging through the dirt about three feet down trying to find the matching bone to the set that she had started. The heat was baking her skin like convection oven, and the filth of the ground clogged the innards of her shoes and bared parts of her legs. This dig was a gratifying experience as she helped uncover an ancient culture seemingly lost for centuries but found be mere accident with a dog. Yes, she enjoyed her time with dead, no matter how disturbing some found it. At least they didn't have volatile emotions that she can never predict. No, they were dead, and the dead do not do anything other than just lay and wait for something to be done with them.

For the past two and a half years she has done nothing but work. She never broke it off nor continued anything with the man she was engaged in discretions with. She just made a silent oath to avoid him, and avoid him she did. Maybe he got the picture, because the last she heard from office gossip, he was having a baby with a lady in Paleontology at the Jeffersonian. Funny right? A Paleontologist and an Artist? Whatever it didn't matter to her at all; she had work to do. She rubbed her hands on her pants leg and shook her head with a quiet curse. She couldn't find the bone that belonged to the skeleton, and it was really beginning to piss her off.

"Dr. Brennan?" a young boy not a day over sixteen asked with a thick Indian accent.

She smiled slightly at him, "What can I do for you?"

"I was more so wondering that in reverse. Are you alright?" he asked his features etched with concern.

"Of course, I just…uh…I just can't find this bone and it's really beginning to grate on my nerves." She said as she wipes the dust away from her nose with the sleeve of her shirt.

"Well, you have been working around the clock for almost a whole month. Maybe you should break, or at least lie out?"

She chuckled slightly at the way he said the words. These were the reasons (the small ones of course) that she loved to study different cultures.

"I think I do need a break. Do you mind making sure no one messes with this? I mean I understand if you need to go home or something…"

The boy's face lit up and he smiled brilliantly.

"It would be an honor, Dr. Brennan! To be able to guard the workings of one of the world's most famous anthropologists would be something my family would smile upon! After all, you do need to break, considering how much you work. It almost appears you don't stop, you know."

The boy appeared to be thoughtful for a moment as something entertained his brain cells, and Brennan frowned slightly. How could a kid she doesn't even know say that to her? Was it really that obvious that she didn't have a social life anymore? That she didn't have a tangible connection to anyone or anything since two and a half years ago all because of her own selfishness and her own lies? But she snapped out of it as soon as he began speaking again.

"But anyway, I would be honored."

"Good, thank you." She concluded before standing up and stretching slightly.

She made her way over to the canopied area and put her supplies on a desk while avoiding all of the other people here at the dig site. She made a point anymore to stay away from people period. The truth was she was terrified of building friendships with people, because she knew that in the end they only led to heartache. It was a surprise even to her that she let the boy who offered her help, to even begin talking to her on a semi-non professional level. She was lost within herself anymore.

As far as the Jeffersonian goes, she still is technically working there just not as much as she used to. She spends of most of her time now; traveling to digs all around the world, reviewing her grad student's work, and teaching in institutions all over. Her book-writing career has been placed aside on an undetermined hiatus; because she just doesn't feel connected enough to it lately to even begin a new book. Her old friends? Well that was a funny story; aside from Hodgins hating her guts and refusing to so much as look at her for longer than twenty seconds, Cam being short with her and getting pregnant with her new husband, Zack being stuck in the loony bin without a link to the real world, Sweets becoming some big deal with the FBI prosecutors and not wanting to be around her for longer than ten minutes to say hello, and her best friend being dead-she didn't have any old friends.

She had herself, and sometimes her family when they needed something. Last time she heard from any of them was six months ago, and she didn't even want to know why they called. She got off the phone quickly because she had an inkling that it was about something shady. Her life felt utterly messed up. Was she not allowed any happiness at all?

She sighed as she reached an open expanse overlooking the entire dig site. The place was massive, and she just knew it would be awhile before she left. Good. She needs to stay as far away from D.C. as possible. Since Booth had waved goodbye, she no longer felt at home there. She felt unsafe and cold, which was not something she is used to. She can stand on her own two feet, she doesn't need anyone. Does she? If she were being honest with herself and everyone else the answer would be yes she does; but just one person…Booth.

Oh how she regrets the horrible thing she did to him. She gave away her love to someone else because she couldn't open up to the one who loves her the most. Or loved her the most. Brennan deserved to watch him leave, she knew that. But she couldn't shake that feeling of abandonment. They promised forever no matter what. They should have worked it out, they should have figured something out…right? She was confused and she didn't like it.

But she was sure that she needed to quit brooding and realize that the past is the past and what happened was truly deserved. No matter how much it hurts. Besides he has probably moved on anyway and she was sure Parker would never agree to even speak to her again. He was twelve now, and going to be thirteen soon. Every year she contemplates sending a card or something but always decides against it. She sighs once again. This was her life now.

A life she needs to learn to live with.

Come nightfall, she was on a log in front of a small bonfire set up to cook their meal listening to the sounds of native Indian music being made on the workers random instruments. She loved culture. To her it was better than any massage or aromatherapy available. So soothing on the weary mind yet stressing on waiting senses ready to absorb new ideas non-indigenous to the natural responses formed from an early age.

"Dr. Brennan?" a familiar voice called and she jumped slightly while looking up.

"Oh…umm…hi you startled me." She stuttered while wiping invisible dirt away from her legs.

"Oh, sorry…I didn't mean for that." he quickly apologized.

"No no it's okay. I had better be heading into my cot anyways."

She made a move to stand but the boy stopped her and a confused look passed her features.

"Dr. Brennan, please do not take this as an insult, I do not mean to speak out of turn but…uh…but when was the last time you really rested and arose feeling refreshed? When was the last time you really allowed yourself the chance?" he asked with his voice full of genuine concern.

"I…um…" she was caught off guard by his forwardness not to mention look of empathy. "I don't completely understand what you are asking me."

"When was it last that you allowed yourself to feel cared for? Dr. Brennan, once again take no insult, I mean this with great compassion and understanding, but you seem lonely. I know this because I have watched you this last month. You hardly eat more than once a day. You rarely say more than three sentences to people outside of discussing the dig bones. You wake early and lie out late. When will it end, Dr. Brennan? When will you see that you are merely destroying yourself?" he asked her while staring intently into his eyes.

"I…I…I…" she was now completely caught off guard and honestly didn't a have a clue what to say this young boy that was far too mature for his shapeable age. She closed her mouth to stop gaping and simply sat back down noting that he was entirely right.

"You have made crucial mistakes in these last four years, Dr. Brennan. I do not need to name them, for you already know their names. But hurting yourself in these ways as penance for the wrong does nothing to improve your situation. It only causes personal pain and more reasons to keep doing this to yourself because you feel as if you are getting what you deserve. Instead you should be fighting for what is right, and fighting to make things right. Not burying your head in the Indian sand."

He paused to let the words sink in, and she continued to stare forward as if looking into the fire gives clarity to truth of his words. How can he know her so well, yet never meet her before this? He sat and placed a tentative hand over her clasped ones before continuing.

"There is someone out there that you love…yeah?" he asked gently.

She turned to look in his black orbs and nodded.

"Yeah." She responded voice above a squeak.

"Well then, why are you here? Why are you not with him?" he asked more pointedly.

"It's complicated." She responded quickly.

"Oh really? If you love him, why would it be complicated?"

"Because I…I…I broke his heart. I betrayed him. He could never possibly love me again. I hurt him. He was the only one who loved me more than life itself, and yet I threw it away." She said as the tears she has ignore for over two year threatened to escape.

"Did you throw it away, or were you confused?"

"I…I…I don't know." She whispered.

"Something bad happened that year before, and you were frightened of the feeling you got from it…the feeling of loss. Something you are not familiar with. You are a woman who likes to be in control-keep everything calm and rational. But with the tragedy, you were no longer in control and you needed to feel so again. Right?"

She was shocked, he read her like she never could to her own self. "Yes." She answered shakily.

"Unfortunately, what started as a way to grab control turned into a way to escape? And that is where it turned wrong. It is okay to need an outlet from your problems, but when you abuse it and make it your only way to function you lose out on reality. So the man that started as a friend turned into your escape, and made you lose out on the one you love."

She was stunned again. "Yes."

"He left didn't he? He found out and left." The boy asked in gentle curiosity.

She stared for a second. "Yes, he did…the affair had been going for a year, right after he proposed to me. He told me the night he left that he knew about for almost all of that time and had been waiting for me come forward with the truth." She got a minute as her thoughts drifted back to Booth's face and how hurt he looked. It was almost palpable to her touch. "He told me that I was only sorry I was caught and if he wouldn't have come forward I would still go out on him…I…I…he left me on our anniversary night. He was waiting for me on the couch. I stood him up for dinner because of Joseph, and he said that he was done with me hurting him. I broke him. I broke one of the mot giving and loving people in the world…and for what? Why would I do that to him? I am so stupid!" she said angrily to herself while standing letting the tears finally fall.

"Yes, you were. But now you fix it. Are you tired of running?" he asked directly.

She sucked in a breath and didn't turn around as she contemplated his question. Was she ready to face the music?

"Yes."

"Well then why are you still here?"

"I'm…" she started as turned to face but saw he was gone, "…not?"

She looked around for a few seconds and then saw the ticket sitting on the log. Smiling she picked as she realized…she had a plane to catch.

Part III

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

San Diego, California

Same Evening – Hotel Bar

"All I am saying is, you will never know unless you try." Hodgins said with a gulp of his beer.

Booth shook his head at his friend. How did this happen? Hodgins prodding him along to date someone new, when he still has yet move on himself?

"Hodgins, need I remind you, that you still have yet to pick yourself up from Angela? I will date someone eventually; I am just too busy right now."

"Booth, first my situation is different and you know it."

Seeley shot him a sideways glance and an eye roll.

"It is. My wife died. Your girlfriend cheated. Two completely different things. And don't hand me the 'I am too busy' crap. You are not getting any younger. You are forty-two now."

"Yeah, with a twelve year son. Tell me, exactly how attractive am I now for a committed relationship with someone?" Booth pointed out. "I am a famous author-attracts gold diggers. I am a veteran-attracts benefit seekers. I am old-attracts all of the above. I am going to use a word I rarely use with you…Dude, my love life is long since over." He finished while turning to face the wood of the bar counter and twirling the liquid around in the bottle.

Hodgins took his turn to shake his head. He grabbed a fork and a knife and turned face Booth much to his own surprise, Booth burst out laughing. Maybe it was because of three and a half bottles of Budweiser and a couple of shots, or maybe it was just because Hodgins looked so damn ridiculous holding a fork in one hand and a knife in the other with the weirdest grin on his face. Maybe it was both.

"Stop laughing, I am trying to make a point. So shut up and listen."

Booth tried to reel it in but more continued to bubble over. And when Hodgins began to get irritated it only made his hysterics worse.

"Dude! Stop it! Have you lost your mind?"

"I think…I think…" he said in between more laughter. "What the hell point could prove with a fork and knife? That I am so sexy woman want to fork and knife me? Seriously…I can see why I am the author!" Booth finished while almost falling off the bar stool.

"I think you have way too much to drink." Hodgins said with a raised eyebrow and put the silverware down.

"I would say…say the same for you if you think I will be sober enough to try and follow a fork and knife analogy." Booth said still laughing.

"It's simple. You are the knife, and women are the fork."

Booth got quiet for a second and looked at Hodgins to see if he was serious. Hodgins finally thought he had a handle on his half drunk friend, but when he began to open his mouth to continue his analogy, Booth burst out laughing again and with more power.

"That…That…Oh my god, man! You should have been a comedian, because that is the funniest thing I have heard in YEARS!" he laughed only harder and Hodgins rolled his.

"Alright. Alright. Give it a rest, it wasn't that funny."

"Not that funny? Then you must be more drunk than I originally thought because you are having memory problems! I am the knife - woman are the fork? I never knew you were someone kinky!"

"It wasn't meant to be!" Hodgins objected indignantly.

"The hell it wasn't! Oh my god!" Booth said and then continued with his jubilance as he fell off the chair.

"Okay you are drunk, let's go to our rooms."

"Oh…" he said and took in a breath to settle his laughing some. "Oh no you don't! I am NOT that kind of guy!"

Hodgins rolled his eyes again. It all was rather funny when you thought about it. And in the past two years he hadn't heard Booth laugh so much, so even if it was at his expense, he was willing to hear it.

"In your dreams, cupcake, come on!" Hodgins said as he stood him and Booth continued to talk in a slightly slurred fashion as they made their way to the elevators.

"First…don't you call me that! I would never anyone's-but exspecially yours'- cupcake. And I do NOT dream about you!"

"I would certainly hope not!"

"Good then we understand each other!"

"Most definitely." Hodgins responded with a grin at his friend's silliness.

A few hours later Booth sat in his Hotel room alone thinking about what Hodgins had said. (The part that didn't make him a public fool.) Maybe he was right. Maybe it was time to quit lamenting his past, and move on like his career did. Maybe it was time for life to move on entirely, and show the world the real Seeley Booth. Maybe just maybe he would start in San Antonio.

Forget the past, and move on...

His new perogative.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

San Antonio Airport

Three days later

Brennan stood tapping her foot impatiently as she waited for her luggage to topped onto the conveyor belt. She didn't understand why she was even here. One minute she talking to the little Indian boy, and the next she has plane ticket sending her here. But rather than her rational self and question it, she took the connecting flights that made her go here, there, and everywhere and now here she is waiting for something to tell her why she was here!

As if on cue, one of her bags spilled over and she quickly picked it up.

"Excuse me, miss?" a little voice called and she turned around expecting to see an adult but only finding dead air.

Great, now she is hallucinating too!

"Down here." The voice said.

She looked down and sure enough a little blonde girl stood there wearing a pretty pink and frilly dress, with her hair up in pigtails and holding a book of some sort.

"Hi." She said as sweetly as she could to the little girl.

"Hi. I need you to sign my book." The girl said insistently.

"Wha-Why?" she asked confusedly as she stooped down to little girl's level.

"Because it's important you do!" the girl said back as if it was obvious.

"Do you know who I am? Is your mother somewhere?" Brennan's mind began racing as this little girl was peering at her with her big baby blues. Who was she?

"My mom is in that store, and yes I know who you are. You are the lady this book is dedicated to."

"What?" Brennan asked now entirely confused and becoming rather impatient with the girl over it.

"I said you are the lady this book is dedicated to. You are Dr. Temperance Brennan."

"That's impossible." She said in disbelief.

"No it's not, it's possible. All things are possible, just like making a better end to this story."

"What?" she asked for what felt like the millionth time.

"Ugh, grownups can be so dumb!" the little girl said and shook her head as her curly hair bounced back and forth in the confines of her pig tails.

"I am trying to understand, her, I don't even know who you are!"

"That doesn't matter. What matters is that you make a better end for the man who hides behind a wall!"

Okay if Brennan wasn't confused enough as it was, now the girl was talking in riddles.

"Like I said, dumb! You make the man behind the wall happy! You have to break the wall, that is why it is important for you to sign my book! Here I even brought a pen!" the girl said as she trudged through her pockets.

To Brennan's confused surprise the girl all but flung the book and the pen at her.

"Are you sure your mother knows where you are?"

"Oi! Sign the dang book!" the girl said with a little stomp of her foot.

Brennan shook her head and brought the booth down and flipped it over to see the cover. At first it seemed normal with an illustration of a young girl walking down a dirt road but then she nearly fell over.

"Oh my god! Booth…Booth…BOOTH IS AN AUTHOR!" she looked back down to talk to the girl but she was gone which only frustrated her more.

"I don't get this, why am I here!"

From behind her she heard a crash, and instinctively turned around fast enough to see it. The banner that had fallen exposing her purpose for coming. Booth's book tour, and he was speaking at the AT&T center…Tonight.

Part IV

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hodgins was sitting back stage with wires attached to random parts of his body just like every night at one of these, trying to concentrate at the task at hand: getting the stage ready in time. Booth was nowhere to be found, his stage manager decided coffee was more important than doing what he was getting paid a pretty penny for, and his assistant was driving him up flipping wall. Everything…everything he said was responded with a '…well, Dr. Hodgins…' "…I'm sorry Dr. Hodgins…' '…They won't allow that Dr. Hodgins…' If it wasn't for the vodka tonic he had had earlier, he was pretty sure the girl and anyone else who dared to risk suicide in crossing his path would have been fired ten times over! And the worst part of all of it, was that Hodgins couldn't shake this feeling like something was in the air. Something fishy.

He could feel it in merely walking from one room to the other or one side of the stage to the other. It was more than unsettling, it was disturbing. He always had a good sense of surrounding, but somewhere inside he knew something was going to go tonight. What that was he wasn't sure; but he did know there was no way he could stop it. And this made him even more nervous and demanding of his staff.

To everyone's relief, and some's regret; Booth finally decided to poke his head around to find out how it was all looking.

"Hey." He said calmly entirely oblivious to Hodgins agitated mood.

"Well there you are. Did you decide to finally grace us with your royal presence? Or am I merely hallucinating you mere perfect image?" Hodgins threw his way without even looking at him.

Booth frowned. "What has gotten into you?"

Hodgins huffed and shook his head while removing a couple of wires from in and around his head. "Nothing. Are you ready?"

"I know you well enough to know when you are lying, and right now…you are really lying."

"It's nothing, don't worry about it. You need to worry about your speech." Hodgins shrugged off and refused to meet his eyes.

"Hodgins, when you are this short, it is ALWAYS something. Now what? The publishing company interview?" Booth pressed.

"NO. No, okay no. I just…I just can't shake this feeling that something is wrong. Or right…or just… different I guess."

"Huh?" Booth asked confused.

"Something is going to happen tonight man, I can just feel it." Hodgins replied seriously but was met with a chuckle from Booth.

"Nothing is going to happen, you worry too much. This place is big, but there is security every-"

"NO! Not what I mean. I mean someone is coming…I can feel it in the air."

"Okay look Sir Conspirator, don't go all Sixth Sense on me okay? We are fine. I am fine-you are fine. Let me help finish setting this up and then I will go change. Alright?"

Hodgins reluctantly agreed with Booth. He was just being paranoid. He could shake that off…Right?

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Brennan stepped onto the pavement outside of the building the banner said he would be. She held the book in one hand, and her purse in the other ready to begin atoning for her sins. She honestly didn't know what to expect when first seeing him after what felt like decades. If everything went according to an idealistic plan she conformed on the many plane rides here, she would have the love of her life back. If not, she will have a restraining order. She shrugged, if nothing else she will finally be able to put the nagging notion that she never fought for them behind her.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Booth stood on stage an hour fifteen minutes before show time. Always before the opening he goes through a little ritual of admiration of the place he's speaking in, praying that he won't mess up too bad, drink something strong to calm some nerves, throw in another prayer for good measure and an apology for the drink, and finally get dressed in the clothes his stylist picked out for the evening. He had to laugh at the last one. He had always considered himself a rather stylish guy. Sure he might not have been affluent in all of the latest trends, but he was always well dressed.

He stood still and listened to the sounds of muffled speaking from the workers, and shifting chairs. For some reason the noise was unsettling. He felt like something was out of place. That something was close and he needed to find it. But why though? Why would he need to find something, when there was nothing to find? He turned around quickly only to feel a body near his and suddenly his feet being knocked out from under him.

"Oh my god!" a female voice exclaimed almost too loudly. Booth winced as she continued talking rather loudly. "Oh my god! I am so sorry! I wasn't looking, and and and you turned and…oh my god, I am so fired!" the girl said as her eyes welled up.

Booth studied her for a second. She was beautiful with bright red hair and big green eyes that held tears for situation. She appeared to be his age, and judging by the logo on her black shirt she was working as a stage hand. He smiled at her as she continued rambling about something.

"…and then what am I going to do! I mean I apply for another job, and they ask 'What was the reason for leaving my last one,' and I say, 'Gee, well funny story I was being an idiot with my head up in the clouds again and tripped and quite literally knocked the famous author Seeley Booth ass over teakettle! Ain't that the funniest thing?' I will so be disbanded from ever getting another stage hand job and wind up flipping burgers or WORSE!..."

He listened to her chatter with a huge grin on his face. He found her really funny, and that was refreshing to say the least.

"…goodbye dream Mustang. Goodbye Mr. Microphone and the interview with David Boreanaz about his latest movie…"

"David Boreanaz? You really like that guy?" Booth interupted with an even bigger grin.

She stopped and looked at him with her cheeks turning red. "Oh god, now I have been talking you to death!" she wailed as she put her head in her hands.

Booth sat up and removed her hands while she took a deep breath refusing to let her eyes meet his. "It's okay Mr. Booth. I understand why you are going to say what you are. I am a klutz and sometimes can't keep my feet moving in a straight line. I am truly sorry I tripped you. I'll leave you alone and go collect my things." She went to stand but he grabbed her wrist.

"What was it that I was going to say?" he asked with his eyes twinkling.

"Umm…Well…Well I just assumed…"

"You know, if there is one thing that I could stake as a pet peeve of mine, its people assuming things. This was an accident. You aren't fired." He said with a bright smile.

"But I…"

"No buts. You aren't fired. Now I would however, like to know why your head was up in the clouds as you said."

She looked at him a second and then smiled gravely. "I just broke up with my boyfriend of three years. I have been wanting marriage but he has other… ideas I guess would be the nicest way to put it." She said with bitter snort.

Booth changed his mood from bemused to compassionate as he reached for her hand. "I know how you feel. I've been there too."

Her eyes snapped to his and she was in disbelief for a second. "You? I thought you were like an inspirational guru or something. I'm sorry but I can't say I have read your books."

"That's alright, honestly I wish I could rewrite a few things in it anyway; but no I wouldn't consider myself as an inspirational speaker guru either. Far from it really. I have had a crapload of bad handed to me through the years. I didn't get here without pain."

She nodded in understanding. "I can get that. I mean, when I found him…let's just say it is something I wish to erase from memory." She sighed with a solitary tear running down her cheek that she angrily swept away. "I keep telling myself not to cry, because he doesn't deserve to be mourned; but I can't help it. How did you make them stop?" she asked innocently.

He observed her for a second before answering truthfully. "It took a long time. Almost a year. Sure I didn't go around blubbering or something ridiculous like that, but when I was alone with no one else around…not Hodgins, or Parker, or Cam and the rest of the team, or even Rebecca with her false concern…I would break down. It hurts even to this day and it has been over two and a half years ago. The truth is it never goes away. You walk away with the pain branded to you as if it were a scar or a tattoo that will never be removed; it just gets easier to switch off as time goes on. Kind of like a phantom limb that amputees sometimes complain about." He stopped talking for a moment as memories of Brennan filtered in. "We promised each other forever, you know. Sometimes I wonder if I was the wrong one in walking away."

"I highly doubt that, Mr. Booth." The woman said sincerely.

"Call me Booth." He gave back with a brighter mood shining through. "And what shall I call you?"

"My name is…"

"STACEY!" Hodgins bellowed. And she cringed. "What are you doing? We need those pegs!"

"I'm sorry, Dr. Hodgins!"

Hodgins clamped his fist again to control his anger towards those words. He hated those words. She had said them the entire task and here she is saying them again.

"Stacey? That's your name?" Booth asked sweetly.

"Yeah, although sometimes I wish to change it because of how many times it gets called."

"I heard that!" Hodgins said finally taking in what was before him. Booth had an ease about him that he honestly hadn't seen in years. It made Hodgin's previously flared mood a little less. Just a little.

"Oh, come on Sir Grumpy Pants, the stage looks awesome. You and Stacey did a wonderful job!" Booth replied.

Hodgins went to retort but Stacey cut him off.

"Thanks! And once again I am really sorry about the whole knocking you over thing."

"No problem, just try not to do it again anytime soon."Booth gave back with grin.

"Oh, alright." She said with a chuckle. As she was leaving Booth realized he wanted to see her again and soon.

"But…umm…if you needed to again, you could you know…" he stuttered realizing it had been nearly six years since the last time he asked someone out on a date. "I mean…that is if you aren't busy…and I wasn't busy…we could you know go and see a movie…"

"Are you asking me out?" she asked bemused.

"Uh…yeah. I am so sorry that was all pretty lame." He replied sheepishly.

"So was my monologue of my poor pathetic dreams going poof and exposing my secret crush on David Boreanaz." She replied with a cheeky smile as he chuckled.

"Yeah, so I guess we could be doubly lame and do something together that way our lameness could be more equally administered."

"Don't you think that amount of lameness would suffocate us?"

"Not in the least."

"Well then, how about tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow, I will send a car for you at seven."

"Perfect." She replied, nodded to Hodgins who was now bemused himself, and headed back in the direction she was originally headed with her box.

"SHE TRIPPED YOU?" he exclaimed not bothering to cover how hilarious he found it all.

"I think she referred to it as knocking me ass over teakettle."

Hodgins burst out laughing while helping his friend up.

"So a date then? Back in the saddle here you come!"

"HOA HOA… whoa, slow down there Hodgins, I am so not ready for that!"

"The hell you aren't!"

"Look I gotta go get ready. See you in thirty."

Hodgins nodded as he headed towards his dressing room.

"Yeah, go on there with your bad self!"

"LOSER!" Booth called out.

"WEINIE!" Hodgins retorted.

"BUTTHEAD!"

CHICKEN SHIT!"

"Oooohhhh you fight dirty!" Booth said with a finger raised

"Dirty is a frame of mind. Never forget that." he replied with a cheeky grin.

Booth laughed and continued walking.

Part V

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Brennan was walking down the wide halls of the AT&T Center taking in all of the beauty that hung with proud pictures of San Antonio's beloved basketball team. It was a sport she never truly understood, but then again growing up she was never given the chance to understand it either. Bouncing from one home to another and when not doing that burying your nose in books makes a person become a little out of tune with such a common thing as basketball. No matter though, she was here for one reason and one reason only. Find Booth.

And as if it was predestined she heard his voice very close to where she was. It was in a joking tone, a tone that she used to hear quite regularly until after Angela died. She had almost forgotten how it sounded, and let herself smile as she remembered how he used to say the silliest things that would always end in that heavenly noise. But all good things do have an end. How well she knew the truth to those words was sickening.

His footsteps approached and she lost her courage to stop him. She hid behind a wall hoping he wouldn't see her, silently praying he did. He stopped and she stuck in a breath as she realized he could feel her presence. Her natural fight or flight instincts kicked and she was helpless to what she did next.

Booth had to admit, Hodgins was nuts. Absolutely nuts. Dirty is a frame of mind? Maybe for him, but for everyone else…dirty was dirty. He laughed a little again. Only he would cart around the male version of Angela. Booth then stopped near a wall as he realized that he had just thought of Angela with a light heart for the first time in years. It silently brought tears to his eyes. Dear god how he missed that woman. She always made everything better.

Quickly swiping them away he heard a shuffle of feet. Seeley turned his head to the right, and then to left only to be greeted by thin air. However it appeared, the hairs on the back of his neck were standing straight up and he knew someone was there. He took another careful step forward and repeated his left to right examination. Nothing.

But someone had been there, he just knew it. He could feel it clenching at his stomach and breathing on his neck. Someone was watching him. Hodgins, although nuts at times with his analogies, was right that someone was here. He continued walking forward careful to slip in his long ago rusted sniper senses and surveyed the area with a watchful eye. The person was still here. They were moving and matching his steps.

He let out a quiet breath. "Okay so this is beginning to piss me off." He mumbled.

Brennan hid behind another pillar. She could feel him closing in on her. He knew she was here, that was the reason he was tracking her. She bit her lip and closed her eyes. She was out of places to run and helpless in staying to face the music.

"This is it, Temperance." She whispered to herself.

She heard take another step forward and could practically feel his breath encompassing her from behind. He knew she was hiding here. Oh boy.

Booth stood behind the pillar. He wasn't sure if he should walk around it or merely wait for the mystery person to show themselves. He ran the pros and cons of each option and decided that neither would be good. He should make his presence known and that he merely wanted to talk as to why they were following him.

"I know you are hiding there." He said coolly.

Brennan stuck in another sharp breath waiting for him to approach. When he didn't, she stayed entirely stock still.

"I don't know who you are but I do know that you have picked the wrong person to stalk." He continued.

She began panting quietly. What to do, what to do?

"You see I was an FBI agent. Special agent in fact, Special Agent in Charge was my title; and before that I was a sniper. So my senses you could say are a little more observant than most."

She quit panting only to let a smile grace her features, even with the possibility of her being a psychotic killer he still takes time to stroke his ego. Some things never change, not that she wanted that too.

"And for seven years, I worked with a forensic anthropologist who was trained in three types of martial arts. So I know how to take you whoever you are. Just come out."

She gasped. He mentioned her, how sweet. But she decided before he made any more of a fool of himself she should show herself. That was until…

"Booth!" Stacey's voice said as she was coming out of the bathroom.

"Stacey…hi! I umm, I…I was…"

"…you were talking to dead air?" she asked with an impish grin on her face as she pointed to the pillar that previously housed Brennan or in his case the mystery person.

"Uh…I thought," he stopped and looked back at the pillar. He decided maybe he was just nuts and needed to give Hodgins a break. "It doesn't matter." He said with a soft chuckle.

"Sure alright," she said with a curious eyebrow. "I was meaning to ask you how I should dress tomorrow evening."

"Oh, umm, right I didn't tell you, sorry. Do you realize it has been about six years since I have been a first date?"

"Wow. Well I wish I could say I'm much better; it's been three for me." She said with a glint in her eye as she averted his gaze.

"Yeah, I guess we're both out of practice, well I wasn't thinking anything over the top so…casual?" he asked while clapping his hands together.

She smiled. "Yeah okay. I am staying for the purposes of this book tour at the Emily Morgan Hotel. You can send the car there."

"Sounds like fun. See you later?" he asked cautiously.

"Absolutely." She said with a genuine smile.

After he walked she decided. "It won't be just casual. No, it will be sexy casual. No way am I going to let someone as wonderful as him slip through my fingers." She said with a definitive and slightly reassuring nod. "Yeah that's what I am going to do."

And with that she walked back in the other direction.

Brennan heard the whole exchange from behind another nearby wall. She hung her head and sniffled. Booth was moving on.

"I have made such a mess of things." She cursed herself as tears slipped down her cheeks. But wait! "He said first date. Six years…HAHA!" she exclaimed to no one but herself. "I still have a chance! Your right red-headed Barbie, NO way will I let him slip through my fingers. Not again!" So she quickly made her way back out of the building to begin planning how to get him back.

Part VI

"War…What is it good for? Absolutely Nothing Uh-huh, yeah…WAR!...WHAT IS IT GOOD FOR?... Absolutely Nothing…Sing it with me now…" poured from Booth's dressing room radio. Very few knew he had an addiction to 80's rock and roll.

Buttoning up the last button on his crimson colored, short sleeve dress shirt; he observed himself in the stand-up mirror. The mystery person was long forgotten in his mind, he was too busy looking at how old he really was. Forty-two in all its glory: father of one beautiful and bright boy, unwed and single-ish now, critically acclaimed author, former and decorated sniper, former Special Agent of the FBI…he could go on, but he doesn't like to brag. Sometimes he has to remind himself of everything he has accomplished. Well, a lot of the time really.

Turning around he switched his radio off and ran a hand through his gray-speckled hair. He made sure to get it colored every once in a while, but he hasn't had time in the last few weeks. What with traveling all over God's green earth and such. A soft rapping on his door registered in his addled brain as he deftly went to answer it. Sure enough it was just another staff member telling him something. In this case, he has ten minutes to get his old butt down the hall and backstage.

Goodee. Another night of presenting and answering questions, dodging and deflecting intrusive questions, and lastly, closing with a question of his own. Just what he needed to further brighten his already sunshiney day…right.

He heads out the door with a final glance behind him into his reflection. Forty-two? No, he felt more sixty-two.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Brennan sat behind the wheel of her rented Jaguar, and listened to the song playing on the radio.

"We are young…Heart-ache to heart-ache we stand…No promises, no demands…"

"If only that were true, Pat." She mumbled to herself. For one, she no longer felt young. She is thirty-seven years old. And believe it she felt every bit if not more of it.

Seeing Booth possibly with someone else nearly killed her. And he wasn't doing anything wrong, when Booth saw her or didn't knew about her with someone else…she couldn't truly imagine how it felt. She right now felt worse than she ever has in her whole lie. He is so close but so far way. What was she to do to get him back?

Feeling sorry for herself, she pulled into the Denny's on Military Road and decided maybe a coffee would straighten her thinking. Quickly arriving at her seat she took in the Texan feel to the small diner. She could tell she was out-of-place but right where she should be in the same breath. It was weird.

"Hi, my name is Marge, can I get you a glass a tea or somethin'?" the lady said sweetly to Brennan.

She turned her head and took in the lady's appearance. She had blue-gray hair, blue eyes, and gray-ish smile that obviously held up dentures. Her pear-shape held the yellow and red diner-girl outfit snugly, and if she let her eyes shift anywhere other than her face, she could see the full coverage lace bra not-so hidden through her shirt.

"Umm, what kind?" she asked nervously.

"Well, there is sweet, unsweet, and flavored. We also have soft drinks and juices if you fancy."

"Uh, an unsweet tea would be great. Cold I also have some coffee?" the real reason she stopped here.

"Well of course darlin'!"

The lady then shuffled off with a bright smile and disappeared into the kitchen.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Five minutes! We have five minutes!" Hodgins called as people were scurrying here, there, and everywhere behind set.

Booth watched through the curtain as what felt like thousands arrived all carrying copies of his book and pamphlets of this, that, and the other. Most likely from the front desk set up with other word-for-the-wise stuff he has written. More stuff that he felt as if on auto-pilot doing.

He sighed. They think he is something great, but he is nothing more than a big fat fake. He can't keep his own self together let alone all of theirs. But no one will know the truth. He is the man behind a mask. The mask the little girl in the story couldn't remove. He is the face that is in the sand. The sand the girl could not sift through. He is the dark that was in the light. The light the little girl couldn't fully brighten. His book exposes his soul and only those who truly know his own personal story would never know that. And that was precisely how he wanted it.

"BOOTH! Move it! Come on!" Hodgins said as he guided him to the correct curtain. "Alright, I am going to go out and intro you like always and then you are going to go out there and kill it like always. Ready?"

Booth numbly nodded and Hodgins scurried out off. He heard applause erupt and could see through the satin barriers Hodgins enjoying the brief moment of recognition. He then began his speech and Booth tuned everything out.

What is war good for? Absolutely nothing. Especially love wars. They only hurt your soul. He decided.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Part VII

"…But I'm open…you're closed…Where I follow…you'll go…I worry I won't see your face…Light up again…Even the best fall down sometime…Even the wrong words seem too right…Out of the doubt that fills my mind…I somehow find…you and I collide…"

Filled the quiet gaps of the diner Brennan found herself situated in. She couldn't help but think how it described her and Booth. She felt right now as if she was chasing him. Both literally and figuratively. Sure she chased him here (unknowingly must have you, but still) but she was also chasing after his heart figuratively. And she almost cried when the chorus strung through a second time…

"…Well I've found I'm scared to know…I'm always on your mind…Even the best fall down sometime…Even the stars refuse to shine…Out of the back you fall in time…I somehow find…You and I collide…"

When he was talking so effortlessly, so unaware that she was standing actually three feet away from him about her as if she were in his life regularly, it cemented in her mind that he can't stop thinking about her. As she him. But she can't sit here in this very chair and not admit to herself if no one else, that it doesn't scare the hell out of her. If he hasn't stopped thinking about her, what does that mean? That she is who he wants? Or that he is so angry with her he keeps reminding himself why he hates her?

She sighed. If only she could be better at sorting through emotions. Especially her own.

"Penny for some thoughts out of your pretty little head." Marge chirped as she set her coffee and tea down.

Brennan looked up to her face and saw the sad smile on her features. She turned her eyes back down in shame and absently grabbed a sugar packet to add to her coffee.

"I…" she started then sighed. "I have a lot on my mind." She said lamely.

Marge snorted while taking the liberty to sit across from her. "Well that was all too obvious! I could hear the cogs turning from the kitchen doorway!" she chuckled to herself and Brennan gravely smiled. "Sorry dearie, I don't mean to poke at your feelings."

"Oh trust me, I'm used to it…or used to be used to it…or," she sighed again and felt tears well in her eyes. "I'm sorry I'm so emotional! I have just made so many mistakes and somehow by what some people would say is called an illogical and inconclusive thing -fate- I am here trying to fix it, and I just don't know what to do! I feel like…like…like an adolescent beginning puberty with hormones scattered everywhere! I hate it!"

"Or pregnancy." Marge supplied to her reference of hormone fluctuations.

"No, definitely not like that. I am so not fat and my breasts cannot and will not become any larger than how they are! I have become quite accustomed to their appeal." Brennan said with her voice tapering between serious and sarcastic. Marge merely grinned.

"You are a funny one. So what's a hot, young, celebrity as yourself doing here in my diner brooding for? Surely you have someone far better suited to give you brain cells to on pleasure rather than depression."

Brennan didn't catch the celebrity bit instead she stared at her face.

"I do…or at least…I did." She finally supplied.

"Ohhh, I get it…brokenheartsville, huh? What'd he do?"

"Nothing!" she quickly supplied. "He did nothing. It was me."

Marge's eyes never widened nor constricted which was odd to Brennan but she brushed it off.

"Uh-huh. And?'

"And he left me."

"You cheated correct?" Marge asked matter-of-factly.

"Correct." Brennan answered shocked at her forwardness but semi-relieved.

"And now he has some new interest and your trying to win him back, because you have seen the light and yada-yada…" Marge said her hands waving emphatically.

"There was no light…Never a light…I merely realized I am not fully who I am without him around…"

"Tomato-Tamato" Marge mumbled at Brennan's literalism

"…And it makes no sense because I can be my own person! I shouldn't need someone as much as I need him! I shouldn't feel incomplete without him sitting next to me! I shouldn't let him invade my every thought, every dream, every breath - in and out…I shouldn't be like this! I just don't understand anymore." Brennan exclaimed increasingly becoming more hysterical before finally calming down.

"Sweetie, you wanna know what Gamma Marge always told her kids's kids about love?"

Brennan eyes clouded with someone calling her Sweetie, but dumbly nodded.

"Good cause I was gonna anyway. But that's neither here nor there. Gamma Marge always says, 'As sure as storms and sunshine, love will have highs and lows. You can hope and pray to keep your sunshine, but someday that hurricane will blow you right off your rocker and suddenly loving someone isn't as easy as it shoulda been. But only real love can take the weather and still survive. And it's that real love that will pave the way for new life'."

Brennan listened to Marge and understood (amazingly enough) every word. It shouldn't make sense, but somehow it does. A tear fell from her eye and Marge broke through her emotional breakdown.

"Oh, Dearie, I didn't set out to make you cry!"

"OH no! Please, it's just…that was beautiful. And just what I needed. I think I know what I need to do."

"Good, I have to go."

"What?" Brennan asked confused as Marge stood up and began her trek into the kitchen.

"Remember what I said Darlin'! Fight for love. It will serve you well!"

Brennan nodded and was about to say something else when another voice interrupted her from the side.

"Excuse me, Miss?" The small diner girl asked.

Brennan was confused but responded normally anyway. "Yes?"

"Are you alright? For the last fifteen minutes, you have been talking to yourself." The girl said almost embarrassingly.

"No I have not; I was talking to that lady named Marge. She even brought me my drinks!"

"Uh…no ma'am that was me. And Marge is dead. She died last year in a tragic car accident. So I am sorry if you miss her, but do you mind going psycho about her outside?'

Brennan deftly nodded only hearing certain words and only slightly registering the girl leaving. Regardless of Marge's existence or inexistence, she had a man to get.

"Don't stop here…I lost my place…But I'm close behind…Even the best fall down sometimes…Even the wrong words seem too right…Out of the doubt that fills your mind…You finally find…You and I collide…"

Part VIII

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"So, this is the time that I would like to open up for questions. That is unless I have awesomely blown your minds and have left you fully satisfied." Booth said with humor while waggling his eyebrows. Everyone laughed and he smiled. For some reason totally lost upon him, tonight he was actually talking to the people as if they were just that…people. Not someone to impress, or have to hide from; but just the average Joe-Blow or Johnny Jet you meet on the street and make small talk with. It was weird for him.

"I have a question, Mr. Booth!" an older man said as he stood and let his tan hand wrap around the microphone more confidentially.

"Fire away." Booth smiled and positioned himself more comfortably behind the podium.

"Earlier you said that you believe everyone hides behind a mask, just like the girl's guides in the book. What does that all mean? I get that they were really people, but I just don't understand why the girl cared so much. They were just there to help her on her path back to finding herself. Why did she want to fight so hard to free them from their self inflicted Hell? And how does it apply to everyone?"

Booth froze. Okay so there was a question he didn't expect. This one was even more personal and more complex than the one that got him stuck in San Francisco. How do people know how to just take a knife and slice right through to his heart without having any knowledge of his past and whatnot? It was beginning to piss him off. (Although sub-consciously, he knew it shouldn't. If anything, it should serve as a warning to face his problems; but he would ignore that merely because it's easier and less painful…most times.)

He stared at the man, mouth slightly ajar, and pining inwardly for how he was to step around this one. So much for easy conversation tonight. However, he should have known better than to move along without being vigilant of the other shoe's pending great fall. He felt more than saw Hodgin's intense stare on his figure from the side. In a moment's notice he would gracefully close the seminar for the evening but Booth didn't want it. Okay so he did want that, but he knew that part of his moving on speech to himself was not being afraid of every single question that ribbed closer to his real purpose of ever even beginning his phenomenon of a book. He needed to man up, and answer the question more candidly than usual…but as candidly as he probably should. He wasn't ready for that yet.

"Umm…well…you see," he began while averting everyone's gaze and clearing his throat to begin again. 'You can do this Seeley. You got this.' He told himself. "You see, Sir…?"

"Oh, I'm sorry I never said. Francis Garcia." The older man said while switching the microphone from deep tanned hand to the other.

"…Mr. Garcia…"

"Just Francis or Frank. My wife would castrate me and leave me for road kill if she found out I made you be formal with me." The man smiled, which Booth returned with a chuckle.

"Well, tell her it was all my doing." He said while there was a quiet giggle in the crowd. "Frank, you have asked an excellent question. One which I think everybody should take note on." He paused and listened to rustle of paper and muffled whispers as he mentally calmed his nerves. "The girl in the story fought so hard to relieve the people or her guides as you called them, because the truth is…they were herself - a constant reminder of where she was and where she should be. Mile markers of her own reflection, if you will." He looked at the podium when he noticed the man's puzzled expression. Here it goes. "They mainly represented her own self-worth. The man behind the wall…the one with all the answers…he was really her. Just another part, the part that carries her wisdom. The man in the sand was also her, the part that shows her footsteps, and how she avoids making the same tracks ahead. The darkness in the light, the part shows her weaknesses in her strengths. You see they were all a part of her. She just could never figure it out. She couldn't understand that all of those pieces were always they were just in that particular situation, tangible, reachable or however you want to describe it. They were always there waiting for her, she was just too afraid to get there and trust that part." He paused to catch his breath. Nobody in this room except for Hodgins knew how revealing this was for Booth, and what major step in courage he was making tonight.

"You see, it applies everywhere because…because…because it shows who you are. Because it tells you where you fit. Everyone has their own man in the wall or sand or whatever…they sometimes are just too dumb and blind to try and find it. I…" he stopped and sucked in a breath to calm the tears threatening to spill over. "I know the feeling. I know it better than most. I too have ghosts I have yet to face, and honestly it scares the living crap out of me to even start…" his voice took a husky tone full of emotion. "…but I want to. And I know you as in all of you in here want to too. You want to be free of your secret pain. I hope my book has done better in showing how, then confusing you. It would hurt if it didn't. I umm, I will see you all tomorrow at twelve for our afternoon session. Thank you Frank for your great question, and if there were more save them. I'll be here all week. Good night, San Antonio."

Applause and Booth as quickly as he could, got himself off the stage.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Damn it!" Booth screamed into a full strength punch that imploded on a punching bag in the hotel gym. "Damn it all!" he said even louder. "DAMN HER! Damn her and her stupid…" he threw an extra hard punch, "…impossible…" another punch, "…incomprehensible…" another punch, "…irrevocable…" another punch, "…inexcusable…" another punch, "…immovable…" he kicked the bag with intense fury then with the final word to the sentence. "…memory! I hate her! I HATE HER!" he hollered and ripped off his gloves with such anger he tore skin from the back his hands without notice. He kept kicking the bag with everything he had until his aged body started to catch up to his work and began to ache not able to be quite as sharp with turnaround of the bag. One misstep later, and he was on the floor staring at the ceiling watching as the bag swing back and forth trying to get his breathing under control.

"I hate her." He repeated to himself in a less confident tone. "I hate her so damned much it hurts me." He choked out. Tears were the only thing he felt after that. Not the pain of throwing himself at a bag that never did anything to him, except maybe get in his way during his fury. He let them fall hard, fast and heavy. "I don't hate her…" he wailed to the empty room. "I can't…I will never be able to hate her…I love her too much!" he continued to sob. "Please God, I am asking you please! Make me forget her…make her memory go away! I can't take this pain anymore! Tonight was the final straw…I can't do it anymore! I can't!" he wailed as he curled into fetal position and continued to cry.

"Please, make it go away…when will I have paid for my sins, God? When will the pain stop?" he whispered some time later in the otherwise silent room. A final tear slid down his cheek and he laid there for a few more minutes before heading up to his room.

In the elevator he listened to the sad song that played through the speakers. It explained absolutely everything he felt and more. He just closed his eyes and listened to every word willing his mind to commit the lyrics to memory, silently wishing for the repeat button and his phone that tells him who sings it. He just listened as it crooned out his feeling of utter despair.

"If anyone asks, I tell them we just moved on.
When people all stare, I pretend that I don't hear them talk.
Whenever I see you, I'll swallow my pride
And bite my tongue.
Pretend I'm okay with it all
Act like there's nothing wrong…

Is it over yet?
Can I open my eyes?
Is this as hard as it gets?
Is this what it feels like to really-
Cry
Cry…

If anyone asks, I'll tell them we just grew apart.
And what do I care
If they believe me or not?
Whenever I feel, your memory is breaking my heart
I pretend I'm okay with it all
Act like there's nothing wrong…

Is it over yet?
Can I open my eyes?
Is this as hard as it gets?
Is this what it feels like to really-
Cry
Cry…

I'm talking in circles,
I'm lying and they know it,
Why won't this just all go away?

Is it over yet?
Can I open my eyes?
Is this as hard as it gets?
Is this what it feels like to really-
Cry
Cry
Cry?"

He made his way into the room and had a shower before collapsing on the bed, ignoring sheets and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Part IX

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Morning.

Brennan's favorite time of day.

Reason you ask?

Simple, in the morning she is certain she is alone with her thoughts and there are no night owls howling at her. The beauty of the sun rise and sound of the birds are secondary.

But for the first time ever, she wasn't enjoying the morning. As a matter of fact, she was loathing it. First, her alarm on her phone didn't go off. Then, her hot shower wasn't so hot. Thirdly her free complimentary breakfast wasn't as complimentary as she would have hoped; and lastly, her rental decided to go – kaput.

So yes, you could say that this morning was one of those mornings that happened once in a blue moon, where she just wanted to go back to bed. Unfortunately she wouldn't be so lucky. She was sat on a bench outside of the hotel she was staying in waiting for her replacement. She had a lot to do today if the evening was to go as planned. First and foremost, what most girls say is the most liberating thing to do in the whole wide world - but she just finds a nonsensical addiction for women at too early of an age and a misuse of free time outside of the bounds of being in dire need…shopping. That's right folks, Dr. Temperance 'IDon't Need to Flaunt My Body in Ridiculous Alluring Frocks to Draw Attention to Myself' Brennan; was going S.H.O.P.P.I.N.G. And guess what for…something out of this world-Look at me I am over here-forget the poser sitting across from you-downright-upright-out rightly…sexy.

Uh-huh. Mark the calendar people. On this day Dr. Brennan will graduate the class of flaunting your stuff. On this day she has officially become a woman…well, yeah okay maybe not that far. But she won't even be the first the car doesn't get here.

She checked her watch again while pacing in front of La Mansion, her hotel of choice. She was sure that all of her morning mishaps were of her own imagination rather than actually a problem; but somehow it made her feel less nervous to blame someone else rather than butterflies in the intestines or however that childish saying went.

And as if on cue, a brand spanking new Jaguar in traditional black with chrome detailing pulled up and a man hopped out.

"I apologize, Dr. Brennan, but traffic was terrible. Here are your keys, and if you would please direct me to the other rental?" the man said with a Spanish accent.

"Yes, it's in the garage, third floor, fifth row, and it is similar to this one just not of this year. Thank you for bringing it." Brennan said hurriedly while grabbing the new set of keys.

"It's my job, Dr. Brennan." He replied and she nodded while heading towards the car. When she reached it, he added, "Oh and Dr. Brennan?"

"Yes, did you forget to tell me something?" she responded distractedly before opening the door.

"Yes, umm…I wanted to say you look great today. And I am sure that no matter what you wear, Agent Booth will think so too."

"What?" she asked finally looking up and seeing he was gone. "UGH! STOP IT TEMPERANCE! The next thing you know you'll be getting reacquainted with your former grad student at the Ward!" she said to herself before driving off.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Oh shit." Booth said to himself while picking up a napkin and trying to clean up the coffee spill on his new sports coat. "As if this morning couldn't get any better!"

He woke up sore all over, found out his phone was lost and had to cancel the line, dropped his conference notes from last night into the sink while shaving (they are currently drying or at least attempting to), slipped on a towel and hit his head on the side of the tub (making him even more sore), and last but certainly not least as of now-realized his favored leather jacket he was going to wear tonight during his date had a hole in it. Yeah, on a scale of one to ten he would place this morning on a negative. To top it all off, Hodgins was late as usual for mornings and he was drinking his coffee alone in the Hotel's restaurant; contemplating on his own the progress of last night for the seminar. Kinda hard to do, really when YOU were the one who was speaking rather than receiving it all; but hey, Booth won't complain. He really in truly needed the quiet.

"Sir, do you know what you want?" the waitress asked him kindly with starry eyed wonder.

"Umm, yeah I think so. Is the omelet any good here?" he asked with a smile at the girl's obvious shyness towards him.

"Oh, it's the best, Sir! We put whatever you want inside and it comes with Good 'ole Texas style hash browns. It's raved about!" she replied with more confidence but still remained slightly shy.

"Well then, Cindy, I think I'll take one." He said looking at her badge and giving her the biggest smile to give her more assuredness that he wasn't going to bite her.

"Great! What kinda fixins'?"

"Whaddya got?" he noticed out of the corner of his eye Hodgins entry.

"Umm, well the usual if you turn to page…" she was cut by Hodgins booming voice.

"BOOTH!" and he cringed when he saw the look on his dear friend's face.

"Hodgins! How are you buddy?" he replied evenly before turning back to Cindy. "Listen, Sweetie, how old are you…sixteen, seventeen…?" he let his voice trail off.

"Uh, eighteen, Sir."

"Hmm…I remember when I was your age. I worked at a fast food restaurant and made only three fifty an hour. Mind you, three fifty got you a lot father then, but I bet you don't make a lot either?" when she nodded while averting his eyes, he smiled. "What I mean to say here is, I am no better than you. So you don't need to think so, okay? And listen, I trust your judgment. Have 'em make me the Cindy special!"

She beamed his way and skirted off. Hodgins shook his head while sitting down and giving Booth a look of disbelief.

"You know, I do not and will not ever understand how you can do that." he stated.

"Do what? Be courteous and uplifting?" he asked with an eyebrow arched as he drank a gulp of coffee.

"No, well sort of. I don't get, how you can be so nice to someone you don't even know; when you have had a horrible morning yourself. It makes no sense to me. I can't, normal people can't, you really shouldn't have to anymore with your status…so why then?"

Booth contemplated it for a second and then replied with a distanced smirk that didn't reach his eyes, "Because I know how it feels to have even the lowest in ranks of people look like they are happier than you."

Hodgins nodded as if to close topic but Booth prodded, "And how do you know I had a bad morning anyway?"

Hodgins eyes rolled before they looked at him. "It's written all over your face, man." He saw in his peripheral vision lacerations on the top of his hands and immediately allowed himself to magnify it. "AND ON YOUR HANDS! What the hell, Dude?" he asked before he realized what happened in Booth's guilty look while pulling the sleeves of his coat down.

"I put antiseptic on it. I'm fine." He replied indignantly.

"I beg to differ! And why are you taking frustrations out on inanimate objects again!" he demanded.

"HEY! It wasn't entirely inanimate!..." he paused and looked down while adding quietly. "It was a punching bag."

"Ah hell, Booth," Hodgins exclaimed with a more forceful shake of his head.

"Hodge just don't, okay? Just don't."

"Booth…" Hodgins said with a labored sigh. "I…You need to let the anger go, man. Life will never continue to move if you don't." he paused before adding, "At least it won't for you."

"What are you saying? You're leaving?" Booth asked slightly panicked.

"OF CORSE NOT! Damn how could I? You are my entire investment, not to mention my best friend. That is not what I meant at all!" He said loudly drawing some attention to which Booth gave a kind, apologetic smile.

"Well then tell me what you did mean…and in a voice that can't be heard all the way up in Canada!"

"You can't expect anyone to be romantically interested in you, if you can't let go of the one who hurt you. You have to let it go. But I will say that I am very proud of you at the same time."

"Why?" he asked puzzled.

"Because of your speech last night. It might have only been me that understood how hard that was for you; but you shed some light finally on a dark spot. So don't go darkening it up again by punching at things that have done but become stuffed and sat there."

"Hey, you know you probably would have punched it too. The color was hideous!"

"Oh shut up."

"Now, change of subject. Why were YOU in such a mood when you first walked in?"

"I wasn't in a mood." He objected.

"Ha, right, and Nixon had nothing to do with the Watergate Tapes."

"Oh come on, that was low." Hodgins said while narrowing his eyebrows.

"I found it funny, Sir Conspirator." Booth replied cheekily while picking up his coffee cup.

"He is right, Dr. Hodgins, it was rather funny." A familiar voice cooed and caused Booth to choke on some of his coffee.

"St-Stacey…Hey, what are you… what are you doing here?" he said while Hodgins graced a face of pure amusement.

"Oh nothing but locating you. I didn't want to eat b-fast alone in my hotel so I scavenged out yours." She said with a big smile and invited herself to sit down.

"B-fast?" Hodgins asked with puzzled features and slightly annoyed to her sitting next to him.

"Breakfast, Dorkus, breakfast. My mom always said b-fast because she wanted us to 'be fast' when eating. We had to take three buses to get where were going so typically it was a pop-tart or something corny like that. Hence the name…b-fast." She was pointedly snotty.

"Yeah, Dorkus, b-fast. Didn't you know that all the cool people say that now." Booth said with a wink and a smile to Stacey.

"Humph," was Hodgins' unintelligent response.

"So, Booth, where are we going tonight?" Stacey asked putting her chin on her knuckles and ignoring Hodgin's daggers.

"Umm, well I have been to San Antonio a few times, so I know what to eat and where. I was thinking a little Mexican Restaurant on Broadway. It's called 'Tomatillos'."

"Yummy, I love exotic."

Hodgins rolled his eyes and made a puking face when she giggled to herself.

"Mexican Booth? I don't think she likes Mexican; told me herself a week ago." Hodgins said with a glimmer while watching Stacey shoot daggers of her own.

"Oh, I was merely saying traditional Mexican, Dr. Hodg-ins." She emphasized. "Tex-Mex sounds wonderful."

"But what if that restaurant is traditional Mexican? Will you make poor Boothy drive you all the way to an American place?" he said with an animated voice before adding, "Booth, I think you should play it safe and do what every other AMERICAN does; take the woman to McDonalds. Oh and maybe if you're lucky, you can win her a happy meal toy."

Booth rolled his eyes before Cindy showed back up.

"Here you go Sir, The Cindy Special." She beamed.

He smiled at her and took in the state of the plate. His first reaction was widened eyes, and then it was well-hidden disgust, but finally landed on well-faked bliss.

"Thanks, Cindy it looks…tasty. What's umm…in it?" Booth replied with a gulp and carefully picked up a fork to poke the omelet or supposed omelet lightly.

"Oh, it has red peppers, green peppers, onions, mushrooms, spinach, bacon, sausage, chorizo, jalapeños, cheddar cheese, mozzarella cheese, gouda cheese…" he squinted at her with that one while Hodgins and Stacey absentmindedly tilted their heads to the side slowly, "…pork loin, hash browns, ham, chopped chocolate chip waffle…" Hodgins pulled a face and Stacey slapped his arm, "…Pico De Gallo, Walnuts, peanuts, olives both Spanish and black, pepperonis, Alfredo sauce, and last but certainly not least" she said with a smile and turned to Hodgins and Stacey who went from a look of horror to a look of appreciation in two seconds, "…whipped cream. I made it myself!" All three of them nodded in time with one another as she continued to smile brightly. "I have been taking cooking classes with a friend and believe you me, she isn't cheap."

"You should ask for a ref-…" Hodgins started but Stacey pinched his side making him squirm and glare to which she returned.

"Cindy it looks great. Thank you so…" he took another glance at the plate before him and then back up at her, "so much."

"Oh you're so welcome!" she then turned her attention back to Stacey and Hodgins who were still slack jawed slightly to her omelet from hell special, "Oh, would you guys-…" she asked but was quickly cut off.

"NO!" they said together and she was puzzled for a minute but they recovered with, "I mean I and you" Stacey said. "Yeah, I already ate and you…you," Hodgins prodded. "I-I have an appointment actually, with the stage hands. I really really should be going. Enjoy your fine entrée Booth. Sorry for the quick exit. And Cindy…" she paused when she got her attention. "…keep on practicing for like…yeah a long time. Because you know the best chef is a student first and they learn for a long time." Hodgins broke in. "A very long time."

Booth rolled his eyes when Cindy smiled thinking they were complimenting her and really saying her cooking sucked something fierce.

When she was gone Hodgins laughed a little and said, "So Booth are you getting my reasoning behind not being so nice to people all of the time? I mean, come on, aren't you going to need Prilosec or at least Tums?"

"I don't understand how a person even not of this world would think that was edible?" Stacey said as she surveyed the plate again.

"I don't know, but I think the little green people are going," he took on a robotic voice while making animated hand gestures, "Beam it back to its Mother World…It will kill any life we have salvaged."

Both he and Stacey burst out laughing and Booth glared.

"Yeah, Hodgins, you say that now; but let's see how funny you find it when you are the one eating it." He said and stood.

"Huh?"

"I am walking Stacey to the AT&T Center. You on the other hand, are going to keep up our good appearances by eating the toxic waste."

"But-but" he protested.

"Nope. Let's go Stace." He said and threw a grin over his shoulder.

Hodgins shook his head at the two of them. For some reason it just bothered him that Booth picked Stacey. It wasn't the idea of Booth dating that had him unsettled, it was that he was dating Stacey. If he didn't know any better he would say that he was jealous but that was ridiculous. He sighed as he pulled the omelet in question before him. He put his head down for a second and mumbled, "You know God, I am really beginning to think you hate me."

Part X

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Brennan pulled off 1604 and turned into the entrance of the strip center that was raved about in all circles saying that it had 'every store that meant something and yada yada' she didn't really care. Following its lush entrance filled with large trees, plush Texan shrubbery, and beautifully carved out rock from the bottom out; she began to reconsider. Its sign colored in Earth Tones, boasting its name "La Cantera Shopping Center" only served to further prove its exclusiveness. Temperance continued on her winding way passing a small bank and coming to into a vast parking lot packed full with cars. She pulled around further, until stopping at a valet who kindly took the car and parked it.

"Wow." Was all she could say to sum up the feel of La Cantera. "Maybe the hype wasn't all just gossip?" She then passed two restaurants and made her further up the path feeling slightly lost.

To her right was many stores and to her left was an enclosed food court with big chain eateries all serving savage shoppers. She shook decided right was the better choice for now; she had a job to do. Passing the large, full stores only further her lost puppy feel. And after walking into Macy's and rummaging through racks she must have really shown it because a random woman actually stopped her.

"Excuse me?" she asked kindly and Brennan turned around to see her blemish free dark brown skin, well manicured French-tipped nails, and elite looking clothes.

"Yes?" she asked confused as to why this woman was talking to her.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but my friends and I have been watching you for a few minutes, and couldn't help but notice how…well…how scared you looked."

Brennan's brow scrunched in confusion. "Scared?"

"Yes, you appear to be like terrified of picking out clothes." The woman stated as if it were obvious.

"I am not scared I am just…inexperienced in the clothes choosing I need. Not to mention, I have never even been to this city before. So I am a little lost. The malls back in D.C., are slightly different."

The teenager nodded and turned to wave at some other girls who then happily came over to also stand before her. They all looked to be dressed very similarly to Brennan but she decided not to comment. Perhaps in Texas it was common for women to travel in packs such as wolf mothers do and help the shopping virgins much like wolf mothers help their young learn to fight in for prey?

"My name is Trina, and this is Alyssa," she pointed to a girl with almost white-blue eyes and platinum blonde hair, flawless porcelain skin, and flowy Magenta sundress. "These ones right there are – left- Nicole, and her twin –right- Patricia," she said and pointed two girls with slick straight dark brown hair and eyes, with light tan skin also free of blemishes and wearing identical outfits of miniskirts and halter tops, "and last but not least, my friend who you might just want to ignore entirely because she is so brutally honest about anything and everything… Angela."

Brennan froze. Holy shit was the only thing coherent running through her mind. Angela? ANGELA? Ironic? Yes. Coincidence? How the hell should she know considering her recent run-ins with borderline insanity? Chills ran down her spine as she stared at the girl coming out from behind a cosmetic counter. If she wasn't a rational person, she would say Angela had somehow manifested herself in another body! The girl had dark brown hair with shimmery red highlights, cut in a bob the way she wore it while pregnant, her eyes were licorice and her skin was like the finest sheen of olive. To say the woman was beautiful was the same as saying magnets pull things toward them. And much like a magnet, she was drawn to this girl.

"Hi…" she said more pointedly to the supposed Angela, but then saw the looks of confusion wash over everyone's features. "…everyone! Hello everyone." She recovered.

Trina merely shook her head as if brushing it off and began speaking again. "Well, what is your name?"

"I am…" she paused, to reveal her real identity or not? "…Tempe. Call me Tempe."

"Cool name." Patricia said and Nicole nodded in agreement.

"We're seriously bored. Mind if we chip in with some pointers or something?" Trina asked for the group who all nodded their own silent question.

Brennan smiled tentatively. "Well, that is very sweet, but I don't think you would want to help me for very long. I tend to be…well…a little slow on the uptake as they say for pop cultural references and such; and considering you girls couldn't be much older than seventeen, following me – a thirty-seven year old who could double as your adoptive mother - around would more than likely become a…drag?" her eyes clouded with confusion as the girls took on impish grins and began snickering.

"Uh, yeah, well… stranger things have happened in San Antonio than a group of teenagers giving free efforts to a woman who still uses words like –drag- in learning how to navigate herself around stores. Trust me, I work downtown close to the Alamo. The locals are all…well nice but…I don't know…freakish?" Patricia said looking to Alyssa for help.

"Totally" she said with a snobby girl voice, "there was this one time that this dude from wherever his mother ship hailed from that actually came into the store I work in, and he walked up to the counter I was filing my nails at, and do you know what he asked me?" she said to Brennan who merely shook her head and thought 'Hello. How would I?', "He asked me if I could help him find…"

"You know what, Alyssa, let's not scare the newbie. Okay? The rest of us know the end to that story, and believe me Tempe, you will sleep better period if you never ever hear it." Nicole said.

"Fine, whatever." She said and rolled her eyes.

"San Antonio is actually one of the safest cities in the nation. No need to be scared of anyone. Everyone is actually really nice. 'Course there are exceptions to the rule, but we don't dwell on those." Nicole finished with a smile.

"Yeah, so come on guys! It's time to do what we do best…SHOPPING!" Patricia cheered and linked her arm with one of Brennan's.

"That sounds satisfactory." Brennan replied nervously and sucked in a breath when Trina linked her arm with Brennan's free one.

"More than satisfactory. It sounds fridiculously awesome!"

"Umm…fridiculously?"

"Duh, it's whatever f-word you want matched with ridiculous. Thought that was obvious." Alyssa snorted.

"Sure." She peeped as they drug her down the cobblestone walkway past more stores than she has ever seen in her lifetime.

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Booth and Stacey walked side by side down the broken rock walkways past various hotels and buildings with their destination of the AT&T Center in mind. Or at least in Booth's mind. Stacey however was busy trying to get him to hold her hand. She had tried gently brushing against him, lightly touching his fingers with her own, bright smile when he glances her way, absolutely everything. And when he paused at a crosswalk she couldn't help but break the silence.

"Umm, you know we will need to take a cab to get there right? It's like six and a half miles or something away." She offered kindly while tugging at his arm toward a lineup of cars outside of the Hyatt Regency.

"Oh, right." He chuckled. "I say I have been to San Antonio and can't even remember that."

"Sounds like something I would do." She smile and kept her hands on his arm.

He noticed and when they arrived at the cab he gently removed her hand to offer her first chance to slide in.

"Where to?" came the voice from the front.

"AT&T Center please." Stacey said sweetly and then turned her attention back to Booth who was looking out his window.

"So," she broke through and drew his eyes back to her. "Tell me a little more about yourself. You know the part that doesn't get read in reports here and there."

"Uh, well I have a son." He offered and her eyes widened.

"Oh, so the last woman was your…uh…was your wife?" she asked with uncertainty.

"Huh? No, she wasn't and Parker wasn't hers either it was someone else." He said as if it were no big deal.

"Oh, right so that woman was your wife?" she was desperately trying to understand but was finding it rather difficult when he wouldn't elaborate, and or much less act as if this conversation was even worth his breath.

"No. I have never been married. Rebecca was my first serious relationship, she got pregnant, I proposed, she said no, and here I am. His name is Parker and he is twelve years old."

"Oh wow. Almost a teenager. Bet you're nervous." She replied with a cheeky smile.

He snorted. "If he is anything like I was when I was a teenager we all should be. But I really don't think he would be dumb enough to do the stupid things I did. Parker is smart, and he knows his own limitations. Not to mention he is stubborn and would never subject himself under the rule of someone else unless the pros and the cons deemed it right. In my own opinion, his maturity belies his age. Talk to him once and you would honestly think you were talking to a grown and wise adult rather than a pre-teen. It both scares me and comforts me that he is so…level-headed." He finished with a glint in his eyes. "God, if I could've bottled his self-assured worth at his age, half of the stuff that I have done wrong wouldn't be. I am so proud of him."

Stacey was blown away. He really loved that little boy, and it made her smile bigger than she ever has before. "Booth, I would really love to have the pleasure of being able to be around him some day. It sounds and looks like he really doe own your being."

He looked her way, and paused at the sincerity shining through her core soul. He smiled back at her and took her hand in his own before replying, "Well maybe we could see to that onc we get back in D.C.?"

If at all possible she smiled even brighter. "It would mean the world to me."

"Good, cause if you and Parker don't mesh this won't work." He said seriously.

"I would fully understand that. But I do have another question."

"Shoot."

She stared deeply into his eyes to find the strength to ask her question. The one that was most important to her. "Are you…umm…" she stumbled and looked at their laced fingers searching for the adequate words, "Are you ready…for this?" she held up their interlocking hands and returned her eyes to his. "Because if your answer is no…" she put their hands back down and removed her own, "…then I want it to end now. I could deal with us being friends. And regardless if we pursued something or we didn't, I would still like to meet Parker and be around you because I feel like…" she sucked in a breath and exhaled with closed eyes, "…I feel like we get each other and that isn't something I say about most people. I wouldn't mind just being your friend…" she looked back down again and stared at his hand for several moments making Booth feel as if it was his turn.

He opened his mouth until she locked her fingers back in his previously vacated ones and looked back into his eyes.

*Little did they know, that while this moment was very emotional for them-secretly the cab driver was paying more attention to them rather than the actual road. And if it weren't for the fact that they couldn't tear their eyes away from each other, they would have noticed the few people the driver nearly pan caked.*

"…but I would much rather give us a try."

He searched her eyes and made a spontaneous decision. Something he NEVER does.

"Okay." He replied tugging tighter. "Okay, let's give us a try. I think we might have something too."

She smiled again and settled into the car next to him. Booth smiled back at her but his face went back to a slight quirk of his lips for appearances sake and couldn't shake the feeling he just screwed up. Bad.

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Four hours; twenty-nine random shops; forty-seven dresses; fifty-some odd skirts, blouses, pants, shorts and sweater vests (with EXTREME resistance); and countless twirls, squeals, and other dignified noises; and Brennan was finally at a loss standing in front yet another panoramic mirror. The girls were to say the least, definite teenagers with a little too much money and time on their hands - or in their pockets or however the saying goes. She had given up by the thirteenth shop objecting anything they threw at her. And yes – throw – as in actually tossing it at her and pushing her into the room and practically dragging her out by the ear. It was a learning experience for certain for this rather irritated and exhausted anthropologist.

The one girl that still kept quiet yet a constant vigil was that Angela girl. She couldn't shake that feeling that maybe just maybe it might actually be her. But that was both physically and realistically ridiculous! She had to keep telling herself that she just missed her dearest friend more than she let most believe and she had finally cracked. (Wait, was that how the saying went or was it something to do with frogs croaking?) Shaking her head, she turned around and stepped out of the dressing room area and out into the store only to hear more squeals and demands to twirl. Oh joy!

Trina threw something else at her-and yes I did say throw-and Brennan turned abruptly on her heel and back into the dressing room. Sighing as she looked at the color she let her mind drift off to the time Angela took her shopping. It was when they were still in college and they were going to be heading to a party that evening. Brennan's first as a matter of fact. Angela had insisted on taking her shopping for clubbing clothes even through the insistent objections that her wardrobe was more than fine for any occasion. And guess who won? If you said Brennan, you obviously didn't know Angela ever.

The outfit she wore that night was hot and mean chili pepper hot red that cut above the knee, perfectly draped jewelry compliments of a friend of Angela's, and stylish stilettos. Every time she looked at that dress, she would think of one phrase…

"Sunsets and goodbyes." A voice cooed from behind which startled Brennan.

"Oh dear god!" She gasped as she held her chest. "Wha-what are you doing…Angela?" she nearly choked on her own saliva with the name. How much more eerie could this be?

"Checking on you. We haven't talked really. What with Trina and the other girls hogging you every second." She said with a smile and made herself comfortable on a circular leather chair that sat opposite the mirror in the changing area. The clanking of doors to stalls closing and opening filling their quiet gaps of conversation.

"Oh…well I see…umm what did you say a second ago?" she asked slowly.

"Sunsets and goodbyes. It's the phrase that comes to mind when looking at you in that dress." She replied nonchalantly.

Brennan gasped and her pupils dilated at this strange woman before her. What was going on? Was this some sort of practical joke? Or cruel attempt to make her feel more miserable? That was the phrase she used with Angela…HER Angela…all those years ago! Is there some force in the unseen world she holds no weight in whatsoever carrying out some cosmic vendetta meant to make her feel as though she is in purgatory without even being dead first?

"It is, is it?" she asked and constricted her pupils at the unintelligible response.

"Yeah, I would say so. I mean the red contrasts your skin in ways that screams the afterglow that only sunsets bring. Or would it be the beginning of the sunset?" she appeared thoughtful for a moment while Brennan observed her warily. "No matter," she shook her dark brown/red hair and ran her fingers through it before continuing, "What does matter is why in the world a woman like you is in a place like this looking for something remotely close that! It must be some pathetic bozo's lucky day, or you have decided to switch careers and begin the slippery slope down to S&M fantasy special!"

Brennan squinted further in confusion with her last sentence and looked down at her dress. It was rather revealing, and the red was rather poignant; but it wasn't THAT slutty! Right?

"And I know what you're thinking, 'It's not THAT bad!' Sure Sweetie, it isn't that bad if you wanted every single person both male and female from here to Hell and back to see you actually made out pretty well during puberty!"

"HEY!" Brennan protested. "So the neckline is a little lower and the skirt rides a little higher; it doesn't mean I am a peek-a-boo waiting to happen!" Did she seriously just say that?

This Angela burst out laughing at her and then shook her head again. "Uh-huh, yeah okay whatever you say. But you still haven't answered my question."

"Well after that I don't see why I have too!" she paused and then added, "And I didn't even pick out this dress! Trina and her posse or whoever they are did!"

Brennan proceeded to her ruffle the skirt some and march back into the stall that held her actual clothes and changed again.

"And what does little Tempe think she's doing now?" Angela snarked.

"What does it look like?! I am changing and then I am going to tell the others I can't do this anymore! And then I am going to pack and leave. Booth doesn't want me any more anyway. He's got that stupid Stacey and I-…"

"WHOA WHOA WHAO!!!" Angela said and threw the door leading to her stall open.

"Whoa what! And why are you in here? Get out!"

"It's nothing I haven't seen before Sweetie! And anyway, my remarks and you pack up and leave? I don't think so! I didn' set-…" she stopped short and drew in a breath.

"You didn't what?" Brennan stated confused but still highly peeved.

"I didn't…" she took in another breath and tried yet again. "I didn't set foot in this room to just watch you run scared from everything. Namely Booth!"

Brennan threw her hands in the air and let out a frustrated grunt. "I don't know what to believe anymore! Nothing makes sense! YOU don't make sense! And personally I can tell why Trina said to ignore you!"

"Ouch you cut me SO deep." Was the reply with an eye roll.

Temperance glared. "Why are you in here patronizing me Angela? I don't even know you! I don't know who you think you are…And I certainly don't know who you actually are!"

She sighed. This wasn't going according to plan and she was running out of time. "I don't mean to confuse you." She said softly. "I am only here to help. You need help Sweetie. You are very lost. I can't be all seeing and I certainly can't be all powerful and control all situations. That is your job." She paused and sent a mighty glare in her direction while adding, "One you screwed up VERY terribly. MIGHT. I. ADD.?" She bit out before sighing again. "You have been running for too long now. It's time you stop. Your inner demons cannot be released unless you face them. Something you NEVER do!"

Brennan was fascinated with how much this girl seemed to know about herself having only met her for the first time today. Fascinated yet disconcerted. Who was she and why does she sound, act, and look so much like her wise best friend?

"Life doesn't wait for anyone, Sweetie. I understand this better now than I did before. I want you to get it as well before you realize how horribly wrong you were all along." She stared into her eyes for the last part. "Do not fear love, Temperance. Love is what makes us real. Love is why we are here. It bleeds, it bends, it shapes, it cries, it screws up, and it starts again. Love is a reality. One no being can escape. Someday it catches up to the person that hides from it, and in that moment that person makes a choice: accept and cherish, or run and be lonely. Love is what you feel for Seeley, and what he feels for you. Even if he tries his hardest to hate you; he never will be able too. So if you are going to run…run home into his arms. Stay there, and NEVER let go. But I for one, have to go now."

Angela turned and left Brennan spinning with her words. Then she caught something…

"Hey wait how did you know his name was…" she stopped when she saw Angela was gone. "…Seeley? I said Booth, right?" she asked herself. For a second she contemplated and then shrugged it off heading for the entrance to the dressing rooms where the girls were seated.

"Oh, Tempe you look beautiful!" Patricia said first with a smile.

"Thanks, where's Angela?"

The girls looked at each other with confused expressions. "Angela who?"

Brennan was stunned into silence. She hallucinated the whole thing? NO NO NO! She was NOT crazy! She was NOT…

"Umm…Tempe? You alright?" Nicole asked hesitantly.

Her eyes shot towards hers and gave a distracted mile. "Yeah, yeah of course. What umm what next?"

"THIS!" Alyssa said and tossed her a mini skirt and halter top.

"Joy." She muttered.

Part XI

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Hodgins paced in his room after the conference meeting's end. All thoughts centered on what was happening tonight. In a restaurant no more ten minutes drive away. With Booth. And Stacey. Together. As in together at the same table talking and flirting –together- together. He let out breath and ran his hands through his wet hair from his shower. This shouldn't bother him. This shouldn't have any effect on him at all. This shouldn't…but good god how it does!

He has tried all day thinking of good reasons why he cares so much about it. I mean wasn't he the one pushing Booth in this direction not five days ago? He knew it wasn't because he WANTED Booth to stay alone. God no, just the opposite. He wanted Booth to be happy and with someone that loved him.

In his quest for the answer, he even went over the lame excuses like, "Maybe it's because you think Parker won't approve?" Uh, no. Parker supports his dad no matter what. And another one, "Maybe it's because you feel like he is rushing things?" Uh, hello? It has taken the big lug almost three years to even consider a date with someone! No definitely not that! "Maybe you really have a thing against Mexican food?" Cricket, cricket…hear that? It's the sound of your brain telling you, you've gone from moronic to downright stupid.

"Ugh, WHAT IS IT THEN?! What could it possibly be? Sure I can't stand her half the time, but she would be good for him." he paused his pacing and thought of her face. "Great for him really. Great for him with her large, green, expressive eyes. Curious yet sarcastic sense of humor. General aura of sincerity and sweetness. Honesty beyond a reasonable doubt. Wide smile that somehow managed to fit in every tooth in one shot. Quirky behaviors like licking the rim of her coffee cups in order to test the amount of cream sugar needed before popping it off and fixing it up." His eyes glazed as his mind put on a track of her laughter. "Jubilant laughter that can reverberate through your soul. And her innate ability to drive me insane with her apologies as I am running around like a crazy person, but yet in the same breath extracting somewhat of a smile from me as she refers to my such frantic scurrying with a snarky comment. Yeah, she really is perfect." He said wistfully.

Visibly shaking it off, Hodgins unraveled the towel slung low on his hips and chucked into the adjoined bathroom for the suite. He sat down on the edge of his 19th century inspired four poster antique bed and plopped his tired body backwards. With a sigh he draped his arms over his eyes before continuing to rant to himself why this doesn't matter.

"Jack, he is you best friend and he is looking for morale support! Why are you beating him down?" he thought about it for a second and realized, "I am not beating him down! He doesn't even know my problem with this!" A few seconds before, "I need to quit drinking. I am starting to answer myself."

After he sat back up, he could've sworn he heard a chuckle but disregarded it to the air conditioning system rattling. He stood once again and stretched his aged and tired muscles before shuffling to his hanging bag. Picking a cream colored sports jacket over charcoal gray sweater set complete with black striped tie and off white button, he decided upon his making it a casual suit by spicing it up with creamy tan pants and chocolate colored leather belt. In his own opinion he looked dressed for success but could already imagine Angela's reaction.

"Babe…are we going to the White House, or just dinner?"

She would say. He smiled at her memory and subconsciously touched his waist where she would wrap her arms around him. Life was so much less complicated back then. He had an amazing wife, a child on the way, friends to hang out with, and job that made him feel as if he were doing something that actually mattered. Not that being Booth's "Start all and end all" wasn't important, because it was. This book has really helped people. And Angela would slap him silly for not funding his start up. Besides, the past few years the two of them have really needed each other.

Making his way back into the bathroom, he paused in front of the mirror. He couldn't believe it. He was forty flipping years old. Over the hill as most childish jokes would say. And in studying his features, he knew you could tell he was. From the laugh lines to the worry lines, heck even to seam lines of his sophisticated clothing. Sophisticated? Hodgins? What? Yeah, he was definitely old. Or at least he certainly felt it.

Continuing on he felt around in his toiletries bag to find his cologne. Offhandedly wondering why he bothered. No one was particularly looking for him tonight; which sparked another internal question of "Why would that bother me?" He honestly didn't know the answer until he was so distracted by trying to figure it out he dropped the bag.

"Damn." He muttered as he roughly threw the items back inside. He stopped all of this though when he saw his prized cologne fragrance - Ralph Lauren "Romance."

"This was her favorite too." He muttered and traced the gold inlay. He wondered without realizing his change in thought if Stacey would like a smell like this. She appears to be someone who find this kind attractive. And she has never appeared to be on the negative side of it. But- wait why does he care if Stacey likes it or doesn't? He shakes his furiously when more images begin to fill his mind and grunts angrily before tossing the bottle aside. "Angela, I miss you so much. If you were here none of this would matter." He said tearfully.

"If I were here I would rip you a new one for even looking at her." A voice cooed from behind him.

He jumped."Sweet Jesus!" he hissed as he stumbled over a pair of pants and hit the floor.

"Smooth, Jack, however you did always know how to make a girl feel so appreciated." The voice snarked while approaching his lied out figure on the floor.

He gaped at her. Was he losing his mind, or was his late wife actually looking at him.

"Hi honey! Cat got your tongue?" she smiled over him and then stepped back.

Slowly Hodgins allowed himself to stand keeping a wary eye on the figure before him. Once fully footed on the ground he blinked several times to clear his vision and yet she never went away.

"I think Booth is right. I drink too much. It has now official affected my brain." He mumbled to himself and rubbed his eyes again in vain effort to make her go away.

"Aw gee, I haven't seen you in person for about three years and you are already trying to get rid of me? Big love bucco." She said with a smirk.

"A-Angela?" he asked tentatively.

"In the ghost-like hallucinated flesh, Dear."

"This isn't real. It can't be real. I am just feeling guilty about Stacey, and when I count to three you will be gone."

He closed his eyes and Angela rolled her own. "You know I am not some hypnotist's illusion. You can't snap and I disappear."

"One..."

"No really, Hodgins, you don't want to do that!" Angela replied sounding a little nervous.

"Two…"

"Babe, I really gotta talk to you! Don't SAY…"

"THREE!" he finished and looked around noticing she was gone.

"I knew it. Angela wouldn't haunt me, I was too good a husband!" he said to himself confidently and checked himself in the mirror a final time. "Dressed to kill, Jack, dressed to kill."

He moved through his hotel room and to the front door, opening and closing it before turning around to lock it when…

"Too good a husband?" an irritated Angela said from behind him.

"HOLY MOTHER OF GOD!" Hodgins yelled drawing attention to himself as he whipped around, saw her, tripped over his own two feet, and landed on his butt.

"You know Sweetheart, the chances of you getting into Heaven are greatly diminishing every time you break the third commandment."

"What are you?" he responded clear wonder and aggravation in voice.

"Your wife, dumb butt. Now get up and go back into the room, you are drawing attention to us and not in a good manner!"

"How…"

"JACK EDWARD HODGINS MARCH THAT SELF ASSURED BUTT INTO THAT OVERPRICED ROOM THIS INSTANT! The neighbors are staring!" she yelled to only his ears like a good wife.

"Yes, ma'am." He replied with a heavy head and reentered his room.

*Down the hall four pairs of janitorial and guests eyes exchanged curious glances before shrugging and going about their business*

Once inside he never allowed his eyes to vary from her form as she calmly sat on the edge of the bed. Blue eyes squinted, he warily approached her figure and stood himself a good five feet away.

"Babe, I don't bite. Your slow approach like I am some kinda zombie is a little ridiculous. And just so you know, I am really here. Just not here as in *here, here*. Here as in you can see me and talk to me *here*." She finished with a satisfied expression.

Hodgins blinked again. "Okay so even if that would have made sense, tell me how I know that this is real. And my original assumption that I am just nuts isn't the way it actually is." He replied almost angrily.

She constricted her own pupils at him and was quite confused at his tone. "Why do you sound mad, Hodgie? Aren't you glad to see me?"