Away Isn't Far Enough

5. Passports, CDs and Tornadoes

"What do you mean, it broke?" he asked, following her. "CDs don't break."

"They do when you smash them," she explained, still not looking at him. She was now going through a big luggage. He didn't pay attention.

"Who smashed it?" he asked. Then he laughed. "Smash it. A smash hit. Got it?" She frowned at him. "No, of course you don't..." he concluded. "Who would do that to a perfectly good classic?"

"I did."

"... When? Why?"

She was emptying the luggage now, evidently looking for something.

"Would you just help me find it?" she asked. And not nicely.

He sighed and spun around, not really intending on finding it. But he spotted a metallic box on the top shelf of her huge bookshelf unit. He tiptoed and barely touched the corner. He tried again. This time, he slid it close enough for him to grab it.

"That it?" he asked her, proudly.

Her eyes widened in horror and she ran up to him.

"No! Don't... Give me that!" she almost yelled. She reached for it, but he raised his arm and swung around so she wouldn't be able to get it.

"Whoa there! Isn't that a metallic box?"

"It's not the one I meant."

"What is it?"

"Give it back, Booth!" she almost pleaded.

"Uhm... no," he responded, running to the kitchen.

She ran after him. Her voice got pissed.

"It's not funny."

When he felt he was at a comfortable distance, he went to open it. He looked at her face and his sly grin faded quickly. She wasn't just pissed. Her face was begging him. He stopped and handed her the box.

"Here. Why won't you tell me what's in it?"

"Because it's none of your business," she snapped.

He whistled.

"Wow. Why are you in such a good mood?"

"I'm late."

His heart skipped a beat. She's... no.

"You are... Late as in..."

"As in... if I don't leave in 15 minutes, I'll miss my flight. And I can't find my passport."

"Oh," he breathed out, relieved she was late late and not late in a feminine way. But then her words got to his brain. "Whoa, wait! Your flight?"

"Yeah." She took a chair and got up on it. She put the mysterious metallic box back on the top shelf.

"Where are you going?" he asked, his shoulders dropping.

"London," she replied, putting the chair back.

London?

"What? Wh... For how long?"

"I don't know," she shrugged. "As long as they need me there, I guess."

That's what the Head of the department wanted to talk to her about. Booth wiped his face with his palm. Probably to erase that shock look off it.

"There it is!" she nearly yelled, finding her passport stuck in between books. "That's the first place I looked for it. Why didn't I find it?" she asked herself.

Booth had spaced out a few seconds ago.

"You're... leaving. Right now?" he checked.

"That's correct," she said, closing her luggage bag, and pulling it to the front door.