Disclaimer: I bought a bookcase today. So, let's check out the running tally, shall we? Own: TV, bookcase. Don't own: House, Car, Bones. Glad we got that settled.
A/N: Hello! Another one shot-sequel to "Not For Kids". I'm enjoying playing with different POVs (in this particular series, just because I've already established so much) before I hunker down and I write another long one. So, bare with me. Those of you unfamiliar with the previous stories, here's the dealio: Booth & Bones? Together and going to the Super Bowl (DA BEARS!). Cam? Not happy and not going to the Super Bowl. Okay, read on.
A/N 2: What? An alternate version of the epilogue? What crazy lady promised you that? Oh, me? Really? Gosh. This is awkward. That's boring stuff, let's talk about Bones last night! Phenomenal (though it has no bearing on this story whatsoever)!
She watches the FBI agent stride into the Jeffersonian and a familiar pang of arousal hits her like a blow to the stomach. She pretends not to notice him as he makes his way to the center platform to greet her team. Nodding and smiling, they all seem happy to see him, considering he hasn't been by in weeks. He gives them a smirk and descends the steps, and she hopes he's heading toward her, but she knows better than to hope now.
He moves quickly into his partner's office and her heart aches.
Probably indigestion.
The last time she'd seen him was Christmas Eve, when she had tossed him out. She thought he'd come back, or she hoped he would. He didn't and she spent the entire night on her couch, staring at the front door, pure desperation etched on her face.
Knock it off. You're being weak.
She watches the members of her team disband and vacate the center platform, before retreating to their respective offices. As she begins to make her way to her own office, she hears a shout.
"Booth!"
What has the insufferable man done now?
Inching toward the direction of the noise, she finds herself glancing through the windows of the forensic anthropologist's office. She pretends not to be eavesdropping, looking through the papers on her clipboard, and watching them out of the corner of her eye.
"Bones," she watches as he places his hands on the arms of her desk chair, turning his partner to look at him. He presses his forehead against hers and Cam's eyes widen.
It's a friendly gesture, I'm sure. Extremely friendly, but then again, they always were slightly more friendly than others.
She gawks as the woman leans forward and presses a short kiss to his lips. "We agreed no public displays of affection in the office, Booth," Brennan whispers, but Cam can still hear her, and a knot begins to form in the pit of her stomach.
Because they're in love with each other, you insipid fool.
"You ready to get out of here?" He asks her in a low, husky voice that pushes all the air out of Cam's body.
"I've still got a lot of work to do."
"Well, throw it aside, Bones. We've got a Super Bowl to get to." He smiles at her, still leaning into her body. "Joe Robbie Stadium, HERE WE COME!"
Maybe if I had chosen the Super Bowl over Broadway, we'd still be together.
"It's not called Joe Robbie Stadium anymore, it's just Dolphin Stadium. And I still have to finish a few things before I'm ready to leave." She jerks the chair from his grip and turns back to her computer.
Booth shakes his head but chuckles.
She fights him and he laughs. What kind of relationship is this?
"Did you get a half day on Monday?" he asks, perching a hip on the side of her desk.
"I forgot," she responds without taking her eyes off the computer.
"Bones." It's practically a growl and Cam can't help but delight in his frustration.
Brennan sighs. Leaning back in her chair, she gives him a pointed look. "Booth, calm down. I'll get it." A small smile plays on her lips. "Maybe I'll take the entire day?"
Cam's mouth drops.
No. She can't possibly. Dr. Temperance Brennan doesn't take days off. She's a work-aholic.
"Temperance Brennan," he says in a mocking shocked tone of voice. "Are you suggesting that we play hooky?"
A confused look crosses her face. "Hooky?" She tilts her head and Cam rolls her eyes.
The "I don't know what that means" thing is getting a little old, Dr. Brennan.
He leans over, taking her head in one hand and places a quick kiss on her lips. "You're so damn cute," he tells her with a decidely sexy affectionate grin that under any other circumstances would make Cam melt into a puddle. "Hooky means we bail on work without a legitimate excuse."
"Oh," she gives him an appreciative smirk. "Then yes, thats what I'm suggesting."
What the hell has Booth done to her?
"That sounds like a plan to me, though you might be a little tired of me."
Dr. Brennan raises her eyebrow at him. "Why would I be tired of you?"
"Because we will have just spent the last three days together. You might want your space," he explains, messing with some papers on her desk.
She lets out a loud laugh. "Booth, I haven't had MY space in two years. If I was going to get tired of you, it would have been a long time ago."
Invade my space. No, stop that.
He gives her a wide smile and she returns it. "Did you talk to Parker?"
Cam watches as his face immediately softens at the mention of his son, the progeny she was never allowed to meet, but Dr. Brennan seems to have quite the rapport with.
"Yes, I did. He told me to tell you that he wants you to have fun at the Cereal Bowl."
Brennan lets out a loud chuckle at the child's obvious mistake. "That was sweet of him," she responds. Booth simply nods, fingering the plastic pig on his partner's desk.
The doctor smacks his hand. "Don't touch my pig."
He shakes his hand up and down, feigning hurt, but grins. "I got you that pig." And suddenly, Dr. Brennan's attachment to the plastic toy makes perfect sense.
Of course you did, Seeley.
"Yes, well, Jasper doesn't like to be manhandled." She gives him a slow easy smile that makes Cam want to vomit.
She watches as the two simply stare at each other and for the first time, she starts to feel like a voyeur. Like she might be doing something wrong, eavesdropping on their conversation. She hesitates, side stepping away from the windows before she hears Dr. Brennan speak.
"Okay, get out of my office so I can finish up or we're not going to the Super Bowl."
He gives her a somewhat disappointed look. "I mean it, Seeley Booth."
"And the first name comes out," he says with a chuckle. "Penalty, five yards, first down!"
She rolls her eyes at him. "Get out."
"Fine, fine," he holds up his hands in mock surrender. "What time do you want me to pick you up?'
"I'm right behind you. I just need to sign some papers and throw these things in a bag and then I'll be at my place whenever you're ready." She indicates some files on her desk.
"Not too many of those files, Bones, remember our deal."
"Not when you're awake. You're such a nag."
"I'm not a nag. I'm your boyfriend. It's my job."
Boyfriend.
Though her mind had guessed that, her heart had been blissfully ignorant, and as it plummets in her chest, she can't listen anymore. She propels herself away from the scene and heads toward her office. Toward solitude, toward sanctuary.
She gives one last glimpse behind her as she walks, and it breaks her heart. There's the man she loves holding the woman he loves in a tight embrace, the two of them smiling like they just won the lottery.
Don't cry, Camille. You're too strong. You're better than that.
"Dr. Saroyan. Can you sign off on these lab tests?" Dr. Addy approaches her with some papers and a pen. She nods quickly, hoping to be gone by the time the FBI agent leaves his new girlfriend's office. Taking the papers in her hand, she signs, each signature a little messier and shorter than the last, before thrusting the papers back to the Jeffersonian's newest forensic anthropologist and calmly returning her step toward her office.
If you run, it'll be suspicious. Calm. Calm, Cam. You can do this. Only a few more feet.
"Hey Cam." His voice booms from behind her and she shakes her head.
Remain impassive.
"Seeley." She says, turning around.
"How are you?" He asks, and what surprises her is he actually looks genuine. Like he might actually be concerned about her.
"Just fine. And you?" She gulps down the excess saliva her mouth is producing, and hopes her nervousness isn't completely obvious.
"I'm alright." He looks at her with those deep chocolate eyes, and she has a momentary lapse of consciousness.
'That's great, Seeley. I've got to get back to work now," she tells him, gesturing around her as to say that the lab can't be run without her. Though she knows, it probably can.
"Okay, " he grins at her as he draws near, and she can smell him. Seeley Booth is not a man who needs to wear cologne. He has his own musky scent that makes women crazy. That includes her.
"Have a good weekend." His mouth forms a closed-lip smile as he squeezes her arm and leaves, not once mentioning his trip with Dr. Brennan.
Or the fact that he's probably fucking her.
She feels the rage and the envy and the heart ache welling inside of her again, and she knows she has to get to her office soon.
"Cam."
No, please. Not her.
Dr. Brennan approaches her with a secret smile on her face. "I was hoping to take Monday off. I'm sure Dr. Addy is more than capable of handling anything that comes up."
Who the fuck does she think she is? Just because everyone loves her and everyone thinks she's God's gift to forensic anthropology and just because she's FUCKING my FBI agent, doesn't mean she's the boss. I'm the fucking boss.
A tornado of ire in her belly, Cam snaps. "Dr. Brennan. It is customary to ask your boss for the day off, not tell. And as far as I can see, there are still a lot of remains in Bone Storage that need to be identified."
Brennan looks stunned for a moment before she responds. "I apologize, Dr. Saroyan. Dr. Goodman always told me to just let him know when I was taking a day off –"
Cam interrupts. "Well, I'm not Dr. Goodman."
"Well, yes, I can see that. I wasn't saying you were. I merely meant I didn't know there was a change in policy."
"Well, there has been." Cam gives her a smirk of satisfaction, knowing that she does have some control over the great Dr. Brennan.
"Should I submit my request for the day off via writing or will verbal communication suffice?" Cam hears the tinge of anger in Brennan's voice and she mentally shakes herself.
What the hell is wrong with you? Let her go. For God's sake, just let her go. It's not going to keep them from being together.
She hears shuffling from behind her and realizes they have a crowd. All of the squints have gathered on the center platform, attempting not to look like they're hanging on every word.
"Verbal is fine, Dr. Brennan. And you can take Monday off." She turns on her heel and walks swiftly to her office.
She hears a 'thank you' float down the hallway as she slams the door. In a daze, she finds her way to her desk and collapses in her chair.
Her emotions rage completely out of control. She wants to cry. She wants to hit things. She wants to beat the crap out of both Booth and Dr. Brennan. She wants to yell at the top of her lungs that she doesn't need him, not at all, and that she desperately wants him back.
As fear and rage and heart ache all rush together, and course their way through her body, she can think of only one response. One way to solve everything. One finite solution.
Don't do this. It's stupid and irrational and not to mention, completely bitchy.
She shakes her head, listening to her heart, listening to the sound of it breaking, realizing that Seeley Booth finally got the woman he truly loves, and picks up her phone. Dialing quickly, so she doesn't change her mind, she listens to the ring.
"Deputy Director Cullen, please." The woman on the other line asks for her name. "Dr. Camille Saroyan with the Jeffersonian."
Hang up. Now. You don't want to do this.
She hesitates, her hand pulling the phone from her ear briefly before a voice from the other end interrupts her thoughts.
"Director Cullen," she says taking a deep breath. She WANTS to tell him what his precious Agent Booth is doing with his PARTNER. She wants him to be just as angry as she is and to separate them so she never has to see Booth's face inside the lab again. She wants them to be apart.
I can't do it.
"I just wanted to make sure all the paperwork from the last case was done properly. We have a new forensic anthropologist here at the Jeffersonian, and so I just wanted to check."
He reassures her that everything was in order and she thanks him for his time and hangs up.
She rests her elbows on her desk and places her head in her hands.
Maybe I should get out of here this weekend too. I could go somewhere. Release all this excess tension.
She hears an excited 'yay' come from the lab and knows the forensic anthropologist has informed her best friend that she's departing for her vacation. She can hear the two talking as they walk toward the exit and right past her office door.
"I gotta get home. He's probably already there, he's so excited."
"I'm so proud of you, Brennan. This is a big step for you. My little baby forensic anthropologist is growing up so fast." Angela mock cries.
Come on, Angela.
"If you get a face on any of the remains from Bone Storage, send them to me. Booth sleeps like half the day away when he has no where to be, so I'll be able to work on whatever you get."
I wish I were the only one that knew that.
"Yes, but you exhaust him." Cam can hear the innuendo in Angela's voice and it makes her gag.
"Good night Angela. Have a good weekend."
"You too! Tuesday morning. My office. Nine am. I'll bring the coffee, you bring the details!" The artist shouts and retreats.
Turning in her chair, she begins to stuff files into her tote.
I gotta get out of here. I can't be here. I don't want to be here anymore.
She stands from her desk, pulling her winter jacket off the back of her chair and shrugging it on. She turns off her computer and her desk lamp, and exits her office. Walking toward the parking structure, she ignores the 'good nights' and 'have a good weekends' sent her way.
It's not going to be a good night or a good weekend.
As she gets in her car, she lowers her forehead to the cold steering wheel.
What the hell is wrong with you? You're stronger than this. You're stronger than them.
She thinks for a moment before raising her head from the wheel and starting her car.
This is it. You get this weekend and that's all. This is the weekend you get over Seeley Booth.
She sighs as she reverses out of her parking space, wiping a single tear from her eye.
It's gonna be a long weekend.
Thus completes the one-shot from Cam's POV. Just testing the waters...seeing what it's like...enjoying myself. (::whispers:: Plus, I don't like Cam so I wanted her to find out.)
(To my international readers, bless your hearts. Joe Robbie Stadium/Dolphin Stadium is where the Super Bowl is being played this year, in Miami, Florida! Home of the Great Dan Marino! Not that you really care...this is my last fic about American football. There won't be any more than a passing comment about football after this!)
What did you think? Alternate epilogue is next. Promise. :) Thanks for reading!