And rejection, no matter how fleeting, still stings.
Booth slid his thumb over the leather covering the steering wheel, eyes taking in the dark streets as they flew by. Brennan had laughed and exchanged witty remarks with him over dinner, and it had been nice seeing that familiar sparkle restored in her eyes again.
It had been nice knowing he was the one that put it there.
Now though, she was pressing her forehead against the glass and barely registering his presence. While the silence was nowhere near oppressive, it set Booth slightly on edge. He had begun to realize over the years that there were a range of things his partner did when she went off in her own little world. She could be pondering the anthropological meaning behind his crazy socks. She could be going over the details of their latest case. Or she could be, to put it in his own words, putting her brain into neutral and shifting her heart into overdrive.
This looked like one of those times.
'You okay there Bones?' Booth asked, stealing a quick glance at her and trying not to dwell on the large expanse of porcelain skin her silky black dress left exposed.
Brennan let out a quiet sigh, her breath fogging up the window. 'I'm fine Booth.' The response was automatic, he could tell. Reflexive.
'From personal experience, when women say one thing they usually mean another.'
'In this case, I can assure you that I meant exactly what I said.'
Biting his lip, Booth eased off the gas as the light flashed red. The engine idled, filling the car with a low rumbling murmur.
'Look, Mark was an idiot alright? And so was gay Jason.'
'I fail to see the correlation between Jason enjoying Coldplay and his sexual orientation. It was apparent at the lab that he intended to pursue a sexual relationship with me. He seemed quite offended that I had allowed Mark into my bedroom, but not him.'
'Can you blame the guy?' Booth questioned, raising an eyebrow. 'Imagine someone telling you that they enjoy the conversation, but if it's alright with you, I'll just be boinking this deep sea welder on the side.'
Brennan's forehead folded in contemplation. 'I was merely following Angela's advice and seeking companionship with someone outside of the Jeffersonian. I thought that I had come to a fulfilling arrangement.'
'Stringing two guys along is not fulfilling anything but disaster,' Booth informed her, putting the Tahoe into park as they arrived at Brennan's apartment.
'I'll admit my strategy was a bit unorthodox. But I managed to satiate myself both physically' – Booth winced internally, trying to erase the unpleasant image of Mark in a towel and his partner in nothing but a short robe – 'and intellectually.'
'With two people Bones,' Booth pointed out, opening the door and helping her out of the car. 'Men don't like sharing what they think is theirs.' The minute the words were out of his mouth, he wanted to take them back.
'Are you equating women to some kind of chattel Booth?' Brennan demanded, halting her stride and fixing him with a glacial look.
'Of course not,' Booth hastily assured her. 'That came out wrong.' Her eyes lost some of their anger. 'It's like I said back at Sweet's, we all find that one special person we spend the rest of our lives with.'
A cynical smile twisted her lips as she fished out her keys to unlock her door. 'I doubt that-'
'Temperance,' another male voice interrupted her. Instinctively, Booth placed himself between the man and his partner. His shoulders loosened when he noticed it was Mark, but he remained wary. What was he doing here? Brennan seemed to share his thoughts.
'Mark?' She said, almost incredulously.
'I left a few things at your place,' Mark told her, keeping his attention on Booth.
'Oh. Um…If you tell me where they are, I'll get them for you.' If you listened close enough, Booth thought, you could hear the smallest amount of disappointment colouring Brennan's voice.
'They should be next to your bed.' Mark smirked, seeing Booth react.
'I'll just be a second,' Brennan said, casting a nervous glance at a stoic Booth before hastening inside.
'I broke up with her, what? Three hours ago?' Mark began.
'What's that supposed to mean?' Booth ground out, disliking the tone that Mark had used.
Don't hit him Seel. Bones will kick your ass from here to next Tuesday so fast it'll make your ancestors dizzy.
'Partner my ass,' Mark snorted. 'What are you, the booty call? Can't say I'm surprised. The way she was in bed, you could tell she was getting more ass than a toilet-'
Screw it.
The next thing he knew, his fist had landed neatly on the side of Mark's jaw. The other man stumbled back, before surging forward and clipping Booth above the eye. Executing an uppercut, Booth fisted Mark's shirt and pressed his forearm into his throat.
'You talk about her that way again, your face won't be the only thing that's broken,' Booth hissed out. 'Got that?' He pushed his forearm deeper into Mark's windpipe.
A faint nod from Mark.
'You're lucky I'm not arresting you for assaulting a federal officer.'
'Booth? What are you doing?' Brennan's horrified voice forced Booth to release Mark, and he took grim satisfaction in seeing the welder cough violently and then flinch in pain as his jaw twinged.
'Mark was just leaving,' Booth said, his tenor steely. Glaring, Mark snatched a fair of faded blue jeans from Brennan's grasp and left.
'Booth.' Brennan managed to make her statement both demanding and confused at the same time.
'We were just having some guy talk Bones,' Booth said, touching the mark above his eye. A bit of blood came away on his fingertips. Releasing a sound of exasperation, Brennan forced him inside her apartment.
'Sit there while I get some antiseptic,' Brennan told him, pushing him down on the couch.
'Bones-'
'Sit.'
Humbled, Booth sat. His eyes wandered over the shelves of books, taking in the various knick knacks that the forensic anthropologist lovingly displayed from her trips overseas. Brennan came into his line of sight, carrying a bottle and a few balls of cotton.
'Hold still,' Brennan warned, bending over. Booth tried not to let his eyes widen when her chest suddenly assaulted his vision, opting instead to squeeze them shut.
'You shouldn't have let him provoke you like that,' Brennan said, dabbing at the cut.
'He didn't provoke me,' he answered, resisting the urge to flinch back. She didn't say anything, but Booth could feel the weight of her stare. 'Okay fine. He was a dick. So sue me.'
'He said those things to get a rise out of you.'
'You heard us?'
'You were both almost yelling at each other.'
Booth clenched his jaw, realizing that Brennan had heard what Mark had said about her.
'Well, then you know he had no right saying what he did.'
'His anger towards me is understandable considering that I was stringing him-'
'Don't even try to rationalize what that creep said,' Booth said forcefully. The cotton wool stopped daubing.
'Just…don't do it again.'
'Errr….' Booth stammered, surprised that Brennan hadn't stabbed him with her stiletto and given him a lecture about alpha male tendencies and men being stereotypically violent in their methods to conflict resolution.
It was scary he knew what the lecture would have been about.
'It's just…I'm alone again.' The way her voice faltered tugged at Booth's heart. He hesitantly opened his eyes, thankful that Brennan was standing upright. Reaching for her hand, he grasped it tightly.
'You're not alone, alright Bones?'
Giving him a small smile, she disentangled her hand from his. Booth refused to shiver when her fingers gently smoothed the band aid, the calluses on the pads of her fingers catching across his skin. He heard her let out a small sound of amusement when she leaned down towards him again, seeing his eyes slam shut again.
'I think I'm beginning to realize that now,' she said.
A whisper of wind and then the feel of her lips on his brow. His stomach flipped. And then flopped when he felt her fingers intertwine with his.
You're my special person.
