Author's Note: Alright, so this is the sequel to Don't Cry Out. If you haven't read that one first, then this one probably won't make much sense. Just as a heads up. Anyway, I just had to write a sequel, there were too many things to deal with. :) I'm trying to keep Brennan in character while at the same time showing a side of her we haven't seen, so hopefully it comes out well. Let me know what you think. Reviews are always welcome, of course. :)

Disclaimer: NOT MINE! Don't sue.

Spoilers: None. Nada. Negative.

Angela loved being an artist. She loved being able to see something in her mind, and then make it come out on paper. She had traveled the world, and seen and been inspired by some of the most beautiful sights the world had to offer. Still, in all her conquests, she had never seen anything quite as amazing as the sight before her.

Someone else might find the sight of two people arguing unsettling. Admittedly, if it were anyone other than Booth and Brennan, Angela would have had to fight the urge to break it up. The fact was that it was Booth and Brennan though, and she saw their arguing for what it was: a fit of passion.

One of these days she might have to run her ideas by Sweets and see what he had to say. At the moment, she was perfectly happy sitting in the doorway of her office, sketch pad in hand. Booth and Brennan were on the forensic platform, arguing about God only knew what. From her vantage point Angela could only hear the intonation of the words, rather than the words themselves. Not that it mattered to her any; her pencil flew across the paper as she sketched.

Architecture was beautiful. Oceans, rivers, mountains, all of them were awe inspiring. None of those things touched her like the sight of her two friends, arguing passionately over something that may or may not matter. The thing that struck Angela was that they could be arguing over something as mundane as where to have lunch and they would still be this passionate about it. Their passion wasn’t for fighting, it was for each other. Angela knew that, on some level, they both had to realize that, so why they continued to fight it was a mystery.

Well, she could understand Brennan’s side of it. Quite simply, Brennan was afraid. After everything that happened to her, Angela didn’t blame her for that fear. Deserted by her family, left to fend for herself in the system … what example of love had she been given? Still, if there was one man who could restore her best friend’s faith in love and family, it was Booth. Angela respected the agent more than she let on, perhaps, but she admired the man. Sure he could be an asshole, but he had many redeeming qualities. One of which, of course, was how absolutely delicious he looked.

She focused on the pair in front of her, then down at her paper and back again. Despite the fact that they seemed to be at odds, the two partners were standing remarkably close to one another. Booth was leaning toward her in what would have been an otherwise formidable stance, but Brennan didn’t seem to notice. She was leaning in as well, her eyes and her voice sparking with intensity. Their faces were separated by a mere two or three inches. If one of them were to take just one more step forward … but no, they had that ridiculous “invisible line”. Angela wanted to snort in derision. The only line they hadn’t crossed yet was the physical one, and she was pretty sure that it was only a matter of time before that one got crossed too. Truth be told, she was ready to practically shove them over that damn line.

Angela tried to catch a snippet of their conversation, but she had no luck. They seemed to reach a stale mate then, because their arguing had stopped. They were standing in their same spots, but had leaned away from each other. The artist could still see her friend’s mouth moving, so she knew they were still talking. Her curiosity was piqued; what on Earth had those two been arguing about this time?

“You are the most frustrating woman I’ve ever met!” Booth nearly yelled at her

“No, I’m just the only one you can't win over with your charm!” She shot back

“First of all, Bones, I do not ‘win over’ anyone with my ‘charm’. Second of all … no, you know what? There is no second of all. You’re just being a sore loser.”

“I’m sorry?” She retorted, putting her hands on her hips

“You’re just mad because I figured this out without you. That, and that the sheriff argued with you, and then turned out to actually know what she was talking about.”

“That’s ridiculous, Booth, and you know it!” She tried to keep her voice down, although she knew it to be a lost cause

“Then what is it, Bones? Something pissed you off.”

“You know what pissed me off?” She replied, her voice suddenly acidic, “What pissed me off is that you and I are partners. We may not agree on everything, but we at least listen to what the other one has to say. Not this time though. This time you were too damn busy trying to get the sheriff’s phone number to even listen to what I had to say!”

Booth wanted to fire off a retort, but found that he didn’t have one. He thought over his actions the last few days, analyzing each action in a different light. He was more than a little perturbed to find that there was truth in his partner’s accusations. He had been trying to impress the pretty sheriff, several times at Bones’ expense. Truthfully (although he would never admit it aloud), the only reason he had shown interest in the sheriff was because it had seemed to annoy Brennan. Not one of his finer moments, he knew, but she always got to him. The slightest action and she could get under his skin, both in an irritating way and in a more tender way. For once, he had just wanted to get under her skin. Disrespecting her, however, he had not meant to do.

“You’re right, Bones,” He stated calmly, “I was wrong. I apologize.”

For a moment she looked taken aback, as if she had expected him to argue with her. He watched her as she silently weighed his apology, checking his sincerity. Then, after some moments and apparently reaching the decision that he had been sincere, she dropped her arms to her sides. Her face, which had started to flush red in anger, took on a more tender expression then.

“Thank you,” She said softly

They stayed where they were, watching each other from across the small gap that spanned the area between them. Booth watched the crimson fade from her cheeks, leaving them a pleasant pink instead. He wanted to say something more, to once again ask what was truly bothering her, but he knew that if he did there would be another fight. Lately, they seemed to be unable to find the middle ground between them. They were either getting along wonderfully, or arguing heatedly, as they had been moments ago. Granted, they got along for the most part. Only now, if they were arguing, they were fighting. Down and out biting each other’s heads off.

Disagreeing was not an uncommon thing for them. He knew that. The uncommon thing was the change he felt in their relationship, a change that had been nagging him ever since Bones had been released from the hospital. Conner Swenson was in a mental institution for the rest of his life, yet in many ways he was still there, between them. Every time Booth tried to broach the subject, however, Bones was quick to shut him down. Recently, they had started arguing about trivial things, things that reminded him more of lovers’ quarrels than he wanted to admit.

That thought struck him. They certainly weren’t lovers; in fact, except that one kiss in the hospital, nothing more had happened between them. Well, nothing more physical anyway. He wouldn’t deny that he felt more … connected wasn’t the right word. He had always felt strangely connected to Bones. Maybe it was fair to say that he was just more aware of it now.

Bones moved away from him, going back to what she had been doing before their little argument. He stayed where he was, watching her as she went. Trust his Bones to go through something horrific and then go right back to work like nothing had happened. He couldn’t understand how someone could be that compartmentalized, even her. She dealt with it the only way she know how, undoubtedly, but he worried about her. Everyone had a limit.