A/N: This is set after 6x13 The Daredevil in the Mold. Booth has already been rejected by Hannah.
I don't own anything, except for my own sick mind.
The scalding hot mocha flavored liquid burns its way down my throat. My nose writhes and I stifle back the urge to express my frustration through cursing from the result of taking a liberal amount of coffee into my mouth before it was cool enough to drink. I do somehow feel relieved though; if not for that pain, I could have believed that right now was just a dream. The tiny pricks of discomfort I feel winding their way down my throat and heating my chest sends me a quick reminder that I am here. Right now. With Booth. We are on the verge of something….something new. He sits across from me and I glance over at him. He has finished his pie so now I'm his only focus. And he is focused. He's been staring at me for several minutes and if it wasn't Booth I would feel extremely uncomfortable. He eyes me and then raises his hand to scratch the light stubble that has peppered his cheeks and jaw line over the days long hours.
He shifts around on his seat before he speaks. "We'll be ok, Bones." He predicts boldly. He leans in, elbows on the table. I continue to look at him while I think about his statement. I can tell my silence is causing him great anxiety as he moves around trying to get comfortable again on the small metal chair.
"I mean, we're ok now, right?" He asks, his voice wavering on confidence this time.
"Of course, Booth." I answer honestly. I can see and hear the relief escape him.
"Because back at the lab… I wasn't sure. You reacted…and I didn't know if I did something or…"
I take another sip of coffee and I realize that I'm drinking it not because I'm thirsty or because I crave it or because that's what you do when you're sitting at a table at the diner. It was because that's what I did when I felt something anything that was pushing me towards the edge of my comfort zone. I sipped coffee (only, of course, if I had it). Maybe I was buying myself more time to think. Maybe I was delaying a response that I knew I had to give.
I shrug and shake my head at the same time and try to give an answer to Booth.
"Booth… I'm sorry about that, I just –"
"What is it? You know you can tell me anything Bones."
Tell him anything? I thought I had told him everything.
"I have." I retort quickly.
His expression tells me that he's confused. He's stays in the same position for awhile, elbows propped up on the table and his back hunched looking directly into my eyes keeping completely still and it seems like forever comes and goes before he finally moves and slowly reclines back into his seat his eyes still heavy on me. He knows what I mean, he has to. I have told him.
"You have… what?"
"I've told you." I reply, almost angry that he'd force me to have this conversation, again.
Angry that he's sitting there oblivious.
Angry that I'm feeling entirely too emotional right now.
I try to keep my voice on an even keel even though it fights with me to crack. "I've told you everything, Booth."
A few minutes of silence occurs before I speak again.
"In your truck. My tears, my confessions…everything….I told you…"
I keep fighting with myself and will my voice to come out strong and not weak. "Nothing has changed. Nothing has…. stopped." What takes us both by surprise was the volume at which I spoke this time surprisingly not alarming Booth but alarming myself. I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear and glance over Booth's shoulder at the elderly couple sitting behind us to ensure I have not caused a scene. When I speak again I'm almost whispering, leaning as far in on the table as I can to be as close to him as I can. My internal battle seems to come to an end and my resolve crumbles in defeat. At this point it doesn't even bother me like it should that it has. I let go and my bottom lip begins to quiver as I speak.
"I was laying in bed thinking about you Booth, YOU, when Hannah called me," he flinches, even if ever so slightly, he flinches. I'm fairly certain that it is because of the use of her name. Hannah. Though, it could quite possibly be my admission of thinking about him in bed. "and told me that it was over between you two I was distraught because all I wanted was for you to be happy," I suddenly feel like I'm out of breath. I stop and gasp. I gasp for air and I reach for confidence and strength within myself to continue on , my next words coming out quick and rushed like flood waters breaking the dam "even if it wasn't with me. I wanted you and her to work out." It's only now that I notice my fingers are shaking. I swallow hard, trying to regain my composure.
His chest is heaving now with each breath and I can see that he's trying to remain calm despite his erratic breathing. His face is tense and barely readable but his eyes are polar opposite as they surge with emotion. He continues to look at me and I feel a slight pang of insecurity ring through my core. I find courage though, somewhere in the depths of me to keep going.
"But there was another part of me…" My focus turns towards the window and I look out. I try to gather myself and try to compose complete thoughts in my mind before I communicate anything else to him. The night is black and for a moment I think it's blacker than usual, which could very well be possible given several different factors and or scenarios. I zone in on my own reflection in the recently cleaned glass and I study my face in the window. I believe I am attractive. Even right now in this moment, despite how I feel and despite the dark circles making a home under my eyes and despite the few wrinkles set between my eyes on the bridge of my nose; I look much more put together than how I feel. Somehow that makes sense to me. Yes, that makes sense. I feel like my emotions have taken control of this conversation which is a very rare occasion. I feel insecure, just a little. I continue to bore into the glass and for the briefest moment my reflection change and I see a little girl. The face of a child. I squint and move towards the glass a little bit more as if being pulled by something unseen. Wait….It's my face, I see myself as a child. My mouth opens slightly in shock and I let out a quiet gasp. I pan across the glass and stop when I see Booth's reflection. He's still looking at me. It's then I realize that I am in the middle of a conversation, even more precise, in the middle of a sentence and so I blink away my trance like state and continue, "Another part of me was perhaps glad that this happened." I wait for him to get angry or be upset but he doesn't and he isn't. His face doesn't change; he's still tense. His gaze unbroken and his eyes are as dark as the night is right now.
"Why?" He croaks.
"Why what?"
"Why were you glad that Hannah and I broke up?"
And now I know. I know that he knows. I've been with him during countless interrogations. I know Booth. I know when he knows something and he's just trying to coax the other person on saying it themselves. Doesn't he know that I don't need to be coaxed? My shoulders slump in frustration and I can only be honest with Booth. He asks and I answer. Even if those answers feel like they are being torn from my body, kicking and screaming in torment as the words leave my mouth.
"Because I'm in love with you, Booth."
His eyes clamp shut immediately as if he's been physically wounded by what I just said. I stay fixed on his face until movement on the table's surface catches my attention. My eyes fleet to the table and I watch as his hand turns into a fist and he squeezes tight. His hand turns a deep shade of pink before he finally opens it and flexes his fingers few times. I move my gaze to his chest and I'm anchored there. I watch as he inhales deeply and then lets out a long breath before finally opening his eyes again. I look into them and they glisten back at me.
"What I was trying to say back in my office was that maybe all of this happened because it was meant to bring us together."
He clears his throat and sniffs. "Bring us together?" his voice low and…something. There's something there. I'm not completely sure if he's looking for confirmation or just simply repeating what I said.
I continue "I've told you before, more than once, that I don't believe in fate but after all of this I am not certain of that anymore."
He looks away from me and now he's the one looking out the window now while I wait for him to respond. I let a few minutes of silence pass between us before I speak up. "Why aren't you saying anything?" When he does start to speak his head remains pointed towards the window, his eyes still on the night.
"The last time you opened up to me I couldn't respond. I was with Hannah. I couldn't respond-"
"And now?" I interrupt.
Another grueling moment of silence passes. I begin to wonder if maybe he's seeing himself in the window now. Seeing himself as a child, like I did.
He finally looks back at me. He grabs my hand from my coffee cup and holds it tightly in his hands, the contact sending a tingling shock down my spine and straight to my gut. He's looking into my eyes again. "While I was with Hannah I tried to move all of my feelings for you aside. Like the love I have for you was a piece of furniture that had wheels on it and I could just slide into the corner of my heart and forget about it," He pauses a moment. "I don't want to be with anyone else, Bones." He lowers his gaze to our hands that are in the center of the table. "I just don't know if I'm, you know, emotionally able to give you what you deserve right now."
No, no this isn't happening. This isn't happening again. I wiggle my hand out of his and pull it back to my side of the table. "I don't care, Booth."
"What?"
"I don't care! I'm ready now, ok? I am ready!"
"Bones…"
"No. I'm tired of not being with you, Booth." This statement comes out more as a desperate plea than an actual statement.
He leans back into his chair sliding his hand over his entire face before sitting back up to the table suddenly.
"Bones, look- I love you. I love you so much that I'm trying to protect what we have. I don't want this starting too soon and me fucking it up. I don't want to- no, I will not lose you. Do you understand?"
I'm crying again. My hot tears stream down my cheeks in a warm and almost comforting embrace.
"I'm a mess Bones…" He shakes his head and looks away from me as if he's ashamed. I stare past him now but I can still see that my crying is torturing him. I feel bad, but I don't want to stop the tears. I don't want to go back to how I was. I don't want to not be with Booth.
"Bones, please… don't cry… please." His pleads quietly.
I use the pads of my fingers to wipe away the dampness from each side of my face. I sniff and grab a napkin from the dispenser and crumble it in my hand. "So how long, Booth? How long do I have to wait?"
"Bones, I don't- "
"How many other women do I have to see come into your life?" The tears were still coming and I didn't even care to wipe them as I held onto that brown paper napkin for dear life.
"It's never going to be like that again!" He didn't yell but his voice was raised and it carried throughout the entire diner. Everyone went quiet and a few customers look over at us, including the older couple sitting behind Booth.
The older couple finished eating and left, the bus boy cleared and cleaned the table and a waitress put a new bottle of ketchup on the table and I stopped crying before Booth and I spoke again. "It's late. Could you please drive me back to the lab?" I ask him pulling my coat and bag from the seat next to me.
"Whatever you want, Bones." I know he wants me to look at him but I refuse. After gathering my things I stand up and head towards the exit not even looking back to see if he was following me. After about two to three minutes standing outside by his truck the cold starts to get to me and chills begin to roll through my body. I snuggle my face down into my coat while I turn to look into the diner and through the window I see him still sitting there. His elbows are propped on the table and his head is in his palms. I feel a sliver of guilt flicker inside me. I was honest. I shouldn't feel guilty. No, I won't feel guilty. His hands come down from his face and I can tell he took a deep breath by the way his chest comes in and his shoulders arch up. He stands and I turn my attention away from the diner and him and back to myself and his truck. I hear him come out of the door and he walks passed me and unlocks the doors for us to get in.
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