It's been over two and a half years since I've posted anything other than a very short one-shot so I'm quite nervous about starting a multi-chapter again. This one has been in my head for months and life has finally calmed down enough for me to write it. I'm pretty rusty so reviews would be very much appreciated to let me know if I've still got it! Hopefully you guys will like it but either way I'm still really enjoying being back in the fanfiction community. Special thanks to dgschneider whose fantastic multi-chapter epics gave me the last push I needed to get back to writing myself.
This chapter takes up right after The Blackout in the Blizzard fades out.
The room grew quiet as their bickering trailed off and they lapsed into companionable silence. They sat, mesmerized, as the light from the candles flickered off the walls of Booth's apartment, casting a warm glow over the room. The hypnotizing power of the candlelight provided a welcome and calming distraction from the thoughts racing through their minds.
A city wide power outage had forced them to solve a murder from the confines of an elevator whilst dodging both a set of cumbersome stadium chairs and an awkward conversation that had been brewing since Hannah's departure. Having finally realized her feelings for Booth several months previously, Brennan had been struggling to come to terms with the fact that she had missed her chance to be with him. However, Hannah's rejection of Booth's marriage proposal had changed everything.
Brennan glanced down at the evidence of this change still smoldering on the coffee table. The remnants of the paper on which they had each written down a future date when they thought they might finally be ready to be together. Brennan's fingers itched to brush away the ash, her mind reaching for a task to occupy itself even just for a few moments while she evaluated the consequences of this "spell", as Booth had called it. Though she had scoffed at his claim that burning the paper scraps would ensure the future of their relationship, she had privately rejoiced in Booth's obvious hope that eventually they would be able to overcome the issues between them and move forward as a couple.
Shifting slightly on the salvaged stadium seats, Brennan glanced around Booth's disorderly apartment in search of a trash can in which to dispose of the ash. When this proved unsuccessful she settled back into the rather uncomfortable seat and dropped her hands into her lap. Her fingers lightly brushed against her mother's ring as she fought the impulse to fiddle with it and therefore reveal her nervousness to her partner. She risked a glance at Booth and found that he wasn't looking in her direction, but at the opposite wall where the candlelight created hypnotic displays of light and shadow.
Her scientist's mind couldn't help but recall the ancient Asian tradition of shadow puppetry, in which cut-out figures were used to depict a story via the shadows they cast on a surface. She thought of all the figures that would be needed to tell the story of her and Booth. So much of what lay between them was intangible and ill-defined, like the shadows themselves, and could be interpreted differently depending on the perspective of the observer.
Angela had always been convinced that she and Booth belonged together and that Brennan should just make a move, as if it were somehow that simple. Sweets had been analyzing them for years and through the vagaries of psychology had come to the conclusion that they were in love with each other but afraid to risk what they already had. Booth himself had said that he knew right from their first meeting that they were meant to be together. His absolute certainty and belief in this ideal in the absence of any tangible proof had both confused and frightened her, eventually causing her to retreat to the other side of the world rather than confront her fears. The Lauren Eames case had forced her to admit that those fears had driven Booth into the arms of another woman. A woman he had claimed to be happy with until she too had rejected him. Brennan winced at the painful memory of that night when her evening had been interrupted by a tearful call from Hannah.
"Temperance, it's Hannah."
"Hannah? Why are you calling at this hour? I thought you had dinner plans with Booth?" Has something happened to him?"
The questions had tumbled out of her as she had tried to control the panic rising inside of her, only for that panic to be replaced by a surge of white hot anger as Hannah had told her what happened. The love for Booth that she could no longer deny had fuelled her righteous indignation as she imagined the pain this rejection would have caused him.
"But … how could you? How could you reject him like that? I warned you! I told you Booth would give himself to you completely and that you should be certain you were as committed to the relationship as he was before you moved in together. You said you were! You lied!"
Her desperation to get to Booth and make sure he was okay had caused her to cut off the call before Hannah had a chance to explain. She had quickly gathered her things and rushed out of her apartment to find him, which she did a short while later in The Founding Fathers. His pain and self-loathing had radiated from him as he sat slumped at the bar clutching what was obviously not his first scotch of the evening. She had wanted nothing more than to pull him into her arms and contradict his belief that no woman wanted him, to erase the tortured look on his face and apologize for the part she had played in his misery. But he had been too angry then, with her as well as with Hannah, so she had simply sat with him.
As she stared at the shadows dancing on the wall, she breathed a sigh of relief at Booth's earlier assertion that, although he was still angry, he was no longer angry with her. Her sigh caught Booth's attention and he turned towards her.
"You okay there, Bones?"
Having been so lost in her thoughts it took Brennan a moment to respond. Looking intently into his eyes she replied, "I'm fine, Booth. I was just thinking about what we were discussing earlier, and how relieved I am that you are no longer angry with me."
Booth shifted in his seat and readjusted his grip on the popcorn he was holding. This was still difficult and uncomfortable territory for him. After their conversation in the elevator he had felt it was the right time to let her know he had forgiven her, but that didn't mean that he was ready to discuss it further.
"Look, Bones. I'm really glad we did this tonight and that you and I are getting back on track, but there's still a lot of things I have to figure out before I can talk anymore about this."
When she looked like she wanted to protest, Booth rushed to reassure her. "We will discuss us, Bones, just not tonight. Let's just let things happen naturally. Okay?"
His eyes pleaded with her to understand and not push him further. The last thing he wanted was to become angry with her again or make her feel rejected, he just needed more time. He sighed with relief when her face softened in acceptance. "Of course, I understand."
She wanted to say so much more, but she trusted him and knew she would get the chance eventually. For now, she could be content to just be with him and enjoy the easy friendship which they had fostered over the years. The friendship she had so desperately missed when he had been with Hannah.
She was searching her mind for an alternative topic of conversation when the lights in Booth's apartment suddenly flickered and then flared to life.
"Hey," Booth exclaimed, "the power's back on!" Setting his popcorn aside he jumped to his feet and began blowing out the candles.
Brennan chuckled at his enthusiasm. "If only the city engineers had accomplished this while we were confined to the elevator. It would certainly have expedited matters in regards to solving the case."
"Yeah," Booth replied blowing out the final candle, "and maybe I wouldn't have put my back out trying to get us out of there."
Brennan's brow furrowed in concern. "I thought the Thai massage I gave you earlier had alleviated your discomfort? Perhaps I should massage you again?"
"No!" Booth quickly held up his hand to halt her move towards him. The memory of her hands dangerously close to his crotch while he lay supine on the floor of the elevator was still fresh in his mind, and given the delicate nature of their relationship he didn't want to risk sending her the wrong signals if he got overstimulated.
"I mean, it's fine now, really. The massage did help. Thanks for doing that for me, Bones."
Brennan smiled, "You're welcome. I'm glad I could be of assistance." Privately, she was relieved that he had rejected her offer. It had been more difficult than she cared to admit to keep her hands in the appropriate position for the massage when all she had really wanted to do was slide them up his thigh and …
"So," Booth's voice interrupted her thoughts, "we've already got the popcorn. How about a movie?"
"Sure!" Brennan answered quickly while she surreptitiously pulled her hair from behind her ears to obscure the blush which had formed on her cheeks thanks to the salacious turn her thoughts had taken.
Booth leant forward and grabbed the remote from the coffee table. Flicking the TV on he began to browse through the channels, giving Brennan a few moments to compose herself. Over the years she had experienced a number of erotic thoughts about her partner, which she had rationally attributed to the hormones produced in response to Booth's physical attractiveness rather than as a result of any emotional considerations. It was both exciting and unnerving that she could no longer make that assertion. She was in love with Booth, and he knew it, which made any claim that her desire for him was purely physical both irrational and pointless. A wistful smile ghosted her lips as she watched him. He was hunched forward staring intently at the TV screen, a position which accentuated his broad shoulders and impressive musculature. As appealing as she had always found him physically, it was who he was as a man which had ultimately made her fall in love with him.
Temperance Brennan didn't know a lot about love, but she believed she knew enough to understand that sometimes love involved showing patience and understanding. She resolved in that moment to apply her considerable ability to compartmentalize her emotions to doing just that for Booth. He would come to her when he was ready to talk about Hannah and the other pachyderms in the room, but for now, she would just be his friend and partner.
"Aha!" Booth sat back with a satisfied smile on his face. "Fight Club is coming on."
Pushing her thoughts aside to further analyze when she was alone, Brennan turned her attention to Booth. "Fight Club? I don't believe I've heard of that particular movie. Could you provide a brief synopsis?"
Booth grinned and leant forward conspiratorially, "Ah, but, Bones, you don't talk about Fight Club."
Confusion clouded her features. "That makes no sense, Booth. Why would we be allowed to watch the movie but not discuss it?"
Chuckling, Booth shook his head. "Never mind, Bones. It'll make sense when you watch it."
Brennan cocked her head and considered his cryptic response for a moment, before deciding not to question him further.
"Okay, but I suggest we relocate to the couch. These seats have no lumbar support or cushioning and are therefore not conducive to long term comfort."
As much as it confused and irritated him at times, Booth would never get tired of hearing her squinty talk. It was part of what made her so unique and he would never want that to change. "Right as usual, Bones. I'll grab us a couple more beers."
He moved into the kitchen while Brennan seated herself on the couch just as the opening credits of Fight Club began to roll. Returning to the living area Booth handed Brennan her drink and sat down next to her, casually draping one arm over the back of the couch and resting one foot on his knee. Having gotten comfortable they both focused their attention on the screen as the opening titles continued to flash across it.
After a while, Brennan felt Booth's hand slide down to land softly on her shoulder. Neither one of them acknowledged it. Booth refused to feel guilty for it. Brennan refused to analyze it. They both needed that connection, however small, to reassure themselves that they would be okay. For now, that was enough.
Well that came easier than I thought it would, so hopefully that means I can still write after all this time (or maybe I've just learned to type faster). Anyway, I would be so grateful if you could please leave me a review. Even if it's only a few words I would still love to know what you thought. I have plans to do one chapter for every episode up to The Change in the Game, so eight chapters including this one. Thank you so much for reading.
*Since I first posted this chapter it has been pointed out to me that the power was already back on by the time the episode ended. Woops, my bad! I love that scene so much that I just never noticed the lamps were on! I'm guessing it came back on at some point during the evening and Booth and Brennan just decided to leave the candles. I like the chapter the way it is so I'm not going to change it, so I hope you'll grant me that small bit of poetic license and pretend that the power was still off when the episode ended.*