Author's Note: It's my first Fiction...so be nice. I'm sorry that my first fiction gave Booth cancer...but please...it will get better :O
Disclaimer: I don't own Bones. If I did...there would be nothing but fluff. And a shirtless Boreanaz :O
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Seely Booth,
We regret to inform you that your results came back positive for your cancer screening. It is still in the early stages and is most likely treatable, with proper care. We would like to set treatment as soon as possible, to ensure the cancerous cells do not spread. Please contact the main office to schedule an appointment. The office number is--
Booth stopped reading and crumpled up the letter, his face strained. He couldn't have cancer. He had a son, friends, family. He had Bones.. Maybe it was a mistake, he thought, Maybe it wasn't addressed properly. Yeah that could be it. Just a misprinting.
With a sigh, Booth smoothed out the letter as best as he could, rereading his face etched on the crumpled piece of paper. Somehow the words looked bolder than it had before. He tucked the letter into his jacket pocket and headed down to Wong-Fu's
Booth walked into that familiar restaurant noticing details he never picked up before. Sid, the manager, called out to Booth. ''Usual?''
''Yeah, and keep the the tab open. It's gonna be a long night.''
Sid looked up at Booth who sat down at the bar. ''Rough day, huh?''
Booth grinned a bit. ''Nah, more like a rough life.'' Booth took a long swig of beer.
''I know what you mean. Want something to eat with that?''
''No thanks. Not sure I can stomach anything anyways. ''
''Alright. Just holler when you want a refill.''
''Yeah, thanks man. '' Booth took out the letter from his pocket again. He slowly turned the folded letter over and over. Booth unfolded it and looked at the phone number. He took out his cell phone and turned it on. Dialing the number slowly and deliberately, he glanced at the letter as he was put on hold.
The front door opened and closed, chimes tinkering in the distance. Temperance Brennan strode towards the stool next to Booth.
''Hey Booth.'' She smiled at him and took off her gloves. Booth's eyes widened in surprise.
''Oh hey Bones, uh just trying to get a hold of this guy.'' he explained as he quickly closed his phone and stuffed the letter out of sight.
''What about? The case?''
''Nah, just a little obstacle I need to get out of my way.''
''Mmm...,'' Brennan said as she took a sip of wine that Sid just brought her. ''Sweets wanted to move therapy to Tuesday nights if thats OK with you.''
''Yeah it's fine with me,'' said Booth tapping his fingers absentmindedly on the table.
''He said that we would only have a few more months of therapy. The downside is that he wants us to bring in our family for a family therapy session.'' Brennan drank a bit more of her wine. ''Or maybe it's a good thing. I look at the mug half empty.'' She added as an afterthought.
''Cup. It's the cup half empty. Not mug.'' He looked at her in a half amused, half annoyed expression. ''Ugh.'' Booth ran his hand through his dark hair. He took out the crumpled letter from his jacket pocket again. Brennan glanced over her shoulder at Booth.
''What's that? You've been playing with that since I've came here.'' Booth scratched his ear and pretended not to hear. Brennan repeated a bit louder,'' What's that Booth?''
''Nothing. Really. Just something I got in the mail today.'' Brennan noticed Booth adverted his eyes while talking to her. Booth started to fold the letter up again, when Brennan snatched it from his grasp.
''Is it some poetry you wrote? '' she asked jokingly. Booth made a grab for the parchment, but Brennan held it out of reach. ''Cause you really are a very sensitive individual.'' Her smile faded a bit as she read the first sentence. Booth stopped struggling for the letter. Brennan's face was etched with concern as she finished reading it.
''Bones, I can explain...'' He looked into her eyes showing her he wasn't avoiding the situation.
''How can you-- I mean to say...'' She looked at the letter in her hands to her partner sitting next to her. ''You...can't..'' For once in her life, Dr. Temperance Brennan was speechless. She bit her lip as she tried to compose herself. After a few minutes she was able to speak again. ''When...did you find out?'' Booth paused taking a deep breath.
''Just today. In the mail.'' He looked quite pale as he said this, not believing his own words. ''I was calling them as you came in, just to verify you know. I think they just made some misprinting.'' Booth chugged down his almost full beer glass. ''Sid! 'Nother beer!''
''That could happen. It's happened before. Not often..'' Brennan saw the grimace on Booth's face, and quickly added,'' But it's possible.'' She put her hand on top of Booth's squeezing gently. '' I mean if you believe that a man can rise from the dead, without help from voodoo rituals...Anything is possible than.'' Booth didn't smile this time, just nodded. Brennan's eyes were cast downward.
''I'll call them back tomorrow. The office is probably closing anyways.'' They both sat in silence. Brennan still not removing her hand from his.
''Booth, I'm really sorry about all of this. If there's anything I can do to help, just name it.'' Booth thought, 'I can name a few things I'd like you to do to me.'
He shook those thoughts from his head and replied, ''Only if you can prove this letter is wrong.'' Sid came over with a new glass of beer, breaking the awkward silence for a bit. ''Thanks,'' Booth took a sip of beer and looked at the glass. ''Hmm. Not bad.''
Sid replied,''What? You expected it to taste horrible?''
''Can't expect anything these days.'' Sid just shook his head and attended to his other customers.
''I've know someone who could help. We went to college together.'' Brennan fished around her purse for her phone. As Brennan checked her contacts, Booth stared off into space.
''Booth, you have a piece of paper and a pen?''
''Yeah.'' Booth used the back of the letter to copy the number down.
''It's 202-536-4098. You have it?'' Booth mumbled his acknowledgment.
''Listen, I'm going to head off. It's getting late. I'll see you tomorrow at therapy.'' Booth put down money on the table, and walked out without another word or glance to the life behind him. Brennan checked the time. It was 7:00.
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