A piece of Booth/Brennan fluff that I couldn't resist writing down. Enjoy!
As Booth stared into his beer, he could swear he saw himself leering back up at him. He blinked and it was gone. He sighed and looked up. He was either totally buzzed or in desperate need of a vacation.
"Rough day, Booth?" asked Sid the bartender conversationally. Booth looked up at him numbly.
"You have no idea," he muttered. He'd been fighting with Brennan since the moment he had stepped through the doors of the Jeffersonian that morning. And not their usual banter or snide remarks; full on, mad as hell fighting.
The case that they had been working on involved a woman who killed three high school kids to try and protect her bullied son. When Booth had tried to sympathize with the mother, Brennan had freaked out, saying that there was never an excuse for someone to murder innocent people, and that it was the mark of a bad parent.
Booth had lashed out at her, saying that it was unprofessional of her to let her situation with her father affect her work. He still remembered how her jaw had tightened in both hurt and anger. Then she'd turned on her heel and strode out the door without another word.
Now, sinking deeper and deeper into his beer, Booth was seriously regretting his words.
Sid's voice brought him back to earth.
"Here comes the bone lady, maybe she'll cheer you up." Booth's head snapped up as Brennan slid onto the stool beside him.
She ordered herself a drink and then propped her chin on two closed fists.
"You were right," she said sadly, before he had a chance to say anything. "I did let my situation with my father cloud my objectivity – and I let my personal feelings get in the way of my work. You were right. It was unprofessional."
"Bones – I never should have said that. I'm sorry." He said, his brows crinkling in sympathy for her. She looked over and him and partially smiled.
"You know the mother – the murderer – she said that she asked God what she she should do and he gave her a sign. Telling her to do what she did. Do you believe in that stuff?"
"What, signs?" he asked. "Nah. I think that if something's meant to happen it happens."
"But how do you know when it's supposed to happen?" she asked him, never tearing her eyes away from his. "If there's no sign – what if you wait forever?"
"You just know," he said, sinking into her eyes.
Sid looked up from the glass he was wiping. They're in their own world, those two, he thought. Looking for signs when it's all right there in front of them.
"We can't spend our whole lives waiting for fate to kick in, Bones," said Booth. "We've got to seize the day."
He reached over for his drink, but was so wrapped up in Brennan's eyes that he missed and clumsily knocked it over. He jumped up.
"Ah, sorry!" he said. The beer came out and pooled around her glass, trickling outwards. It formed the shape of a heart, but Booth was too busy getting Brennan napkins to notice.
Later, as they were leaving the bar, their hands momentarily brushed against each other.
"Hot Blooded" came over the bar radio, but they were both too distracted by their electrical contact to notice.
Sid shook his head. Some people are so blind.
Cheesy, I know, but I couldn't resist. Please review!