Summary: For Seeley Booth, a woman wearing white has always meant heartache. Until now.
So I've been intending to get back into writing Bones stories for months now, and I'm currently planning out a multi-chapter story that I'm hoping to start writing soon. This one came as a complete surprise, and just randomly popped into my head while I was watching the end of 'The Daredevil in the Mold'. It's short and sweet, and I hope you like it. Reviews are very much appreciated.
Without even realising it, over the years Booth had begun to associate women wearing white with rejection. The first few times he could have dismissed it as a coincidence, especially since it was the same woman (and possibly even the same white coat). But it had happened again, this time with a different woman, and Booth had really struggled to let that one go.
The first time was in the middle of a case with the feisty forensic anthropologist who was destined to impact his life in ways he never could have imagined. That first kiss had held so much promise, not to mention passion, until she had abruptly pulled away and ended the night outside in the rain after one too many shots of tequila.
The second time was after he took a gamble and lost; banking on the advice of an FBI psychologist who should have minded his own damn business. When she had broken their kiss that night, there was no laughter or flirtatious smile thrown over her shoulder as she walked away. That time, there had only been tears and pain in her rejection of his love and promise of a future together.
The third time was a different woman, wearing a different white coat. He had tried to move on from his failed gamble, and had almost convinced himself that he had, until the blonde he fell for under a fig tree half a world away confirmed his fears that he just wasn't good enough.
In Booth's experience, a woman wearing white meant he was about to get his heart broken.
Until now.
This time, she wasn't walking away from him. Or crying with regret. Or wearing a white coat.
This time, she was walking towards him. Smiling with happiness. Wearing a white dress.
This time, a woman wearing white meant all he'd ever wanted was about to be his. There would be no pain, no rejection, no trying to move on. The next time he kissed a woman wearing white, he would be kissing his wife. From now on, white might just be his favourite colour.