Intro: Now I'm not a huge fan of Songfics, but I couldn't resist with this song. It makes me happy and even mentions a chinese food restaurant! I know, it makes me happy too. It will be a multiple chapter fic and each one will corrispond with a verse which i will post at the begninning. Make sense? Good, because the song probably won't because it's in French. I'll post the English translation too but it is a bit iffy.

Timeline/Spoilers: The story is set after The Man in the Cell, but Booth and Cam are still together (boo), so there might be spoilers for season 2, but because it's AU, I doubt it.

Obviously this is a re-write. I was feeling not very good with the chapter so I started all over. More to follow, this time I promise, I've already written half way through the next one so it will be finished soon!

I obviously don't own Bones because if i did, Booth and Bones would be on each other like bunnies. In the supply closet. Like Jack and Angela. And Zach wouldn't have gone all One Flew Over the Cuckoo's nest on us. I also don't own Je Suis Jalouse by Emily Loizeau. Though it is a good song. Go listen to it. I warn you it is in french though.

Yours Truely, the crazy person formaly known as,

Hayley 3

English--

I cried again for two hours
Over your box of cookies
The famous ones with the letters
Photographs of New Hampshire
Your love trip
With Adele of BayeuxI
find her name ridiculous
Sounds like a brand of sweater
She would like to meet me
Have us go for lunch
She sure will adore me
And she insisted so much

French--

J'ai pleuré pendant des heures
Sur ta boite de petits beurres
Celle qui contenait les lettres
Les photos de New Hampshire
Ton voyage en amoureux
Avec Adèle de Bayeux
Je trouve son nom ridicule
On dirait une marque de pull
Elle voudrait me rencontrer
Nous avoir pour déjeuner
Son mec aussi est géner
Tu dis ça pour me rassurer

My position was fairly non threatening. My arms were crossed and I suppose I had that analytical expression on my face but nothing gave away the tension I was feeling. I chose it specifically for that reason. Angela, my best friend, could somehow always tell what I was thinking. She had once told me that it was because she could just 'feel' it but I think that she was subconsciously reading minute clues in eye movement and body positioning. It wasn't that I didn't want her to know that I was feeling tension, but I didn't know why the tension was there in the first place. It felt like a tightness across my chest that made me take shallow breaths and a sudden lethargy set it along with mild depression. I had never quite experienced it before.

I was standing on the cat walk looking down at the lab, pondering the feeling. It had started when I had come into the Jeffersonian that morning and ran into Booth and Dr. Saroyan. I greeted them both and left them to continue their conversation. It had struck me as odd that Booth had come by without a case or a body but I pushed it out of my mind. After a few hours of paperwork, the feeling had suddenly become apparent.

I tapped my foot, suddenly very curious as to why the tightness was growing and constricting my breathing further. I put my hands on the guardrail to steady myself as I took the much needed air into my lungs. Another set of heels walking across the metal clicked in time to my improvised beat, a quick staccato approaching my position.

"Sweetie."

I turned around and saw Angela standing, her arms crossed and an eyebrow raised.

"Angela, do you have the facial construction of the Civil War soldier yet?" I asked, hoping to sound nonchalant.

"Even if I get it done, I doubt anyone will be alive to identify it." Her eyes narrowed and flickered over my position. "What's the matter?"

My mouth dropped and I attempted to squeak out some defence. "N-nothing. I'm just tired. I was up working on my…book," I finished lamely.

Angela's eyes shot daggers. "Now you are doing that shocked stuttering thing you do when you lie. You seem tense."

"I don't know what you are talking about."

"Now you are doing that I'm-a-genius-and-playing-ignorant thing you do when you don't want to tell me anything. Is it something about the case?"

I didn't say anything and instead began to walk towards my office. Angela of course followed and continued to stare me down. I felt like one of the skeletons on my table being examined.

When we got to the office, Angela shut the door and sat down on the chair opposite to the couch, motioning for me to sit across from her. I complied knowing that she would corner me anywhere else.

"It's Booth and Cam, isn't it?" She asked me.

"What? No, that's ridiculous, Booth and I are friends, partners." I replied.

"Yes, and Hell is just a sauna. You're jealous of Cam."

"I don't get jealous. It's a pointless emotion with no evolutionary significance," I protested half-heartedly. Deep down I had already accepted that jealous, pointless or not, was exactly what I was feeling. Acknowledging this made it swell inside me until it contorted to fit into every corner of my mind.

Angela seemed to read this off my face and her expression instantly turned sympathetic. I hate pity.

"Do you need to vent, Sweetie?"

"What is 'venting'?" I asked, perplexed.

"You just get the anger out in the open; it'll make you feel better. Just say everything that you are thinking."

"Well I really need to examine the skeleton's metatarsals again, there seemed to be some strange discoloration on the tips."

Angela smirked and muffled a snicker. "No, I mean say everything you think about Cam and Booth. I'll start. They went on a trip this weekend, to a cabin up north."

I snorted. "Yeah, in New Hampshire, they showed me the pictures. Cam looked terrified. She told me that she thought she would be eaten by a moose. I informed her that, because moose are vegetarian, it was more likely she would have been trampled by one or gotten into a car accident as a result of one crossing the highway. Actually, it's very interesting, did you know…"

"Sweetie. Anything else?"

"Um, her name seems a bit ridiculous to me."

"And?" Angela urged.

"Well it sounds like, I don't know, a sweater brand or a new gadget that came out somewhere in Tokyo. And although I don't mind unisex names, I don't get why she doesn't like the name Camille. It seems to be a perfectly nice name and yet she insists that everyone call her Cam. You know she asked me out for lunch? She said she wants to get to know her staff better. Dr. Goodman never referred to any of us as her staff and yet she just waltzes in and thinks she owns the Jeffersonian. She would be lost without my skill set and without me she wouldn't have Zach. If I wasn't here, neither would you probably and then she would be left with Hodgins who would probably quit because of her insane rules." I took a deep breath, not realizing that I had that much to say about my so-called boss.

"And what about Booth? Anything to say about him?"

I faltered. Did I have anything to complain about? Our partnership was as strong as ever, I was even beginning to get over his annoying masculine habits; how he always had to drive, he had to have the gun. He made me feel safe, he had rescued me on countless occasions and I for him. It was a perfect symbiotic relationship and one I had nothing to say about.

Angela nodded her head. "I figured. You're in love with the guy so you can't find anything wrong with him. Classic."

"I don't like how he always has to drive," I blurted out.

"Mhm," Angela dismissed as she walked out the door.

Aha! Better, right? I hope so. Maybe a bit OOC but thats okay. REVIEWWWW

- Hayley