A/N: Whiplash warning is in effect. Thanks to astridv for looking at this.
Seeley Booth was driving home right in the middle of rush hour traffic along with every other poor bastard who'd had to put in a full day's work on Christmas Eve, squinting at the smeared headlights of the oncoming traffic. It was raining lightly and the cloud cover meant that it was almost full dark, but at least the unseasonably warm weather meant there was no snow or sleet to contend with. He didn't really have a right to grumble – not much -- as he was the one who'd decided to work today so he could take off a few of the days in the week between Christmas and New Years.
Rebecca was going to be dropping off Parker around six thirty so he would be able to have his son for the vigil Mass tonight then Christmas morning. Later tomorrow he'd take him home to his mother for Christmas dinner. Miracle of miracles, Rebecca had invited him too, and he'd felt welcomed enough to accept. He offered up a quick little prayer of thanks for the thaw in their relationship that had persisted even after he'd told her he no longer wanted to marry her. Her new boyfriend would be there, but Booth was determined not to get into any pissing contests. Parker was the most important thing, and, to be honest, the new 'kinder and gentler' Rebecca didn't deserve it.
Try as he might, however, his thoughts kept veering away from Parker and back to the clusterfuck that another aspect of his personal life was rapidly becoming. His driving went on autopilot…
Things with Cam were coming to a head, and he was just trying to make it through the holidays in one piece. He kicked himself for the hundredth, if not the thousandth time. Kinda late to realize you shoulda kept your dick in your pants. He'd fallen back into old habits with Cam, the non-threatening comfort of the familiar, not to mention some pretty damned good sex. Once things were rolling again, he'd even convinced himself the old feelings might be fully rekindled, to take up where they'd left off, but he'd been deluding himself. The previous incarnation of their relationship had faded away, more or less mutually, when he'd been transferred away from NYC. They'd both known they weren't serious enough, at least not yet, to try to make a go of a long distance relationship so they'd parted amicably. This time he hadn't been looking for anything serious when he'd hooked up with her after Rebecca, but somehow it had gone on for more than a one night stand with encores. Somewhere in the back of his mind he'd rationalized that this time there might be something more, that they might actually get serious.
However, over the last several weeks, he'd come to realize that was bullshit. Even though she was off to a rough start with the squints, he really did respect and like her. Hell, he truly cared for her, but he didn't love her. He now knew he wasn't ever going to. Sure, they were two consenting adults, but he increasingly felt like he was using her, even if she was more than willing. Call it Catholic guilt. Lord knew, he'd long ago gotten over the whole premarital sex thing, but he really wasn't one for one night stands. That wasn't to say he hadn't had his share back in the day, but the fact was, as he'd grown older, they left him empty, if not ashamed. Sex should mean something, should be part of something more, at least part of something that might be going somewhere. Even though he'd thought she'd known the score, catching a nut occasionally with Cam wasn't leaving him feeling good about himself, not at all.
Worse, now that he knew the prospect of something more was a non-starter from his end, it seemed Cam was wanting more. God help him, but he needed to find a way to back out of their 'arrangement' gracefully. He didn't know if it was possible, but he was determined to try. He really had been a damned fool to think he could mix business and pleasure. At the very least he'd had enough sense to know that spending too much time with her in the holidays would be a mistake. A few days prior, when they'd talked about Christmas plans, he'd talked about Parker and very deliberately not included Cam even though it was clear she was expecting some sort of invitation. The next day she'd somewhat coolly informed him of her plans to spend a few days with friends in Manhattan. He'd breathed a sigh of relief at having begun the process of cooling things down without causing a scene, or at least not heating them up like a fucking idiot, but that was only one half of his holiday headaches.
The other half was Bones. Again, nothing that was her fault – it was entirely his.
Although she'd put a brave face on it, the recent visit from Max, with Russ' defection on top of it, had dealt her a blow. Worse, the two SOBs had done it to her just before Christmas, the time when all of her old baggage was closest to the surface. It broke his heart to see her retreating once again into Grinch mode, but this time there wasn't jack shit he could do about it. He'd all but begged her to accept Jack and Angela's invitation to celebrate with them at the bug guy's place. She'd halfheartedly agreed to consider it, but his effort was a poor substitute for what he really wanted, what he ached to do, which was to include her in Christmas himself. He knew in his gut he could get her to agree to join him, but he couldn't even try.
He could hardly give Cam the cold shoulder then promptly turn around and invite Bones. That way lay bad blood all around.
To be honest, Bones was the other reason, apart from simple fairness to Cam, that he was trying to disentangle himself from the pathologist.
His bond with Bones was just becoming far too strong – and it appeared that it might be becoming more than friendship. He had no idea if she was starting to feel the same way, or if she could or would get involved with a co-worker – hell, he and Cam should be the poster children for not doing it – but he desperately needed some maneuvering room to figure out just what these feelings were, much less what in hell, if anything, he should do about them. It was room he didn't have as long as he was still playing footsie with Cam.
If there was to be anything between him and Bones, or if even if it proved impossible, he had to keep Cam from taking reprisals against her. In spite of her tough guy boss persona, Cam really wasn't the vindictive type, but he was up against simple human nature. His not knowing what in hell he was doing was not Bones' fault. He had to back off from Cam and then wait a decent interval before daring to proceed.
Besides, with all of her trust issues, the last thing he wanted to show Bones was that he would leave one woman for another at the drop of a hat.
God dammit.
He'd sure created one helluva royal fucking mess…
Just then, he spotted the BP gas station near his apartment complex which forced him to quit woolgathering and consciously drive as it was time to emerge from the main traffic flow and get on the side street that would take him home. When he finally pulled into an empty slot not thirty yards from his front door, he'd already managed to get his head back around thoughts of Christmas with his son. The women would just have to wait, he thought, as he hopped down from the black SUV. He turned to retrieve the overcoat he hadn't bothered to put on and readied the door key in his hand.
He almost went to his mailbox first but decided screw it. Tomorrow was a holiday after all.
He fumbled a bit at first because the light in the breezeway was burned out, but he found and worked the dead bolt, then the main knob which he unlocked and turned to open the door in one smooth motion. He could barely see a thing, with only a little indirect light from the parking lot lamppost being reflected inside. Right hand still on the knob, he stepped into the darkened entryway beside the kitchen. He let go to shift the overcoat to his other arm, and reached to flick the light switch on the wall with his left.
Click.
The room stayed dark. None of the three bulbs in the overhead fixture came on.
Shit.
He hoped it was just a tripped breaker and not a power outage. Merry fucking Christmas. Parker was due in little over an hour. Guided by memory, he blindly headed toward the circuit breaker panel without waiting for his eyes to adapt.
Too late, he noticed the green LED clock on the microwave was still lit…
KRANG!
A sudden blow to the head made him see stars, but somehow he kept to his feet. In spite of the pain, he instinctively stepped aside, dropped the coat, and in a flash drew the short barreled .44 Magnum revolver from the cross-draw holster inside his waistband, but before he could find a target in the gloom another blow shattered the bones in his wrist. He staggered in agony and tried to retreat to the patch of light leading outside…
KRANG!
All of the lights went out.
A/N There is only one more chapter.