First, thank you for the kind words and messages I have found! PLEASE, I BEG YOU, READ THE NOTE SO THIS MAKES SENSE. A WARNING: the story is already finished, so don't worry to keep on waiting because it is done, finite!
As I told you, my health took very bad hits, which haven't improved (apart from my disease, I reacted badly to a drug, and I received a chemical burn on my legs and chest, so it was painful and there was no energy or drive to write), and the past 18 months have been of deep emotional turmoil (family troubles that even if they are not mine, they had hurt deeply and had made it impossible to find inspiration)
So, for those reasons, I bring you these: allow me to explain before you read. This was a fic I posted on the old Bones site (the Boneyard, as many called it), and it had a good enough reception, and rereading it, I thought it was salvageable, so I tweaked, checked grammar, altered a few things, and here it is.
This was written during SEASON 4, so keep in mind the storylines up until the beginning: this is very AU in the storyline progress, it follows canon up until a little after 4x17, even going as far as 4x21, when Roxy broke up with Angela and she had sex with Hodgins in the Egyptian room. My motivation was that I saw Bren crumbling to the point of almost letting her walls down, and she must have realized how deep her love for Booth was starting to run, particularly remembering that moment when she patted Booth's chest with his hankie, and they simply stared at each other, at the end of 4x21, Mayhem on the cross. I can now understand the one aware of their attraction from the beginning was Bren, but she always fought it, realizing the danger Booth posed to her heart.
FORGIVE ME, but read the next A/N at the end for the last comments, because I know many won't understand how on Earth I came up with this.
This is highly psychological for the first few chappies, it will travel deep into their thoughts, and it will be like posing an scenario. The action will come later on, I promise!
I own nothing, but the craziness of this plot: Bones belongs to Fox, and yada yada yada… You know the drill! It's their property, all of it, the only thing of many is the mayhem (LOL) of this plot. It will be very angsty, and so fluffy at the end it will make your teeth rot, so read at your own peril.
A letter and tears was what had brought them together in the first place.
He was sitting in one of the stools of their kitchen, staring as the first lights of the early morning started streaming through the windows, needing the rush of the caffeine to clear his head of the last cobwebs of sleep, to warm his body, to get rid of the fog that sometimes threatened to overcome him, particularly before his brain engaged at full gear.
This was one of those mornings.
And he was thankful she understood. She understood him always.
She understood him better than he had ever thought possible. She understood that when he retreated into that faraway place within his soul, it wasn´t because he didn´t care about her, or because his love for her was less of a truth, it was only because he was fighting his demons, and most of those times, one of those demons had a very definite face, a face that haunted him and stole the smile away from his face, along with his peace of mind.
No one truly understood exactly how they had come to be together, but at the end, it was only natural.
That night, almost 3 years ago, when she showed up at his doorstep, eyes pooling with tears and found his own, equally bloodshot, agonizing in pain, had been the turning point in their lives.
Here they were, sharing their pain, trying to make sense of everything that was being ripped from their lives, their trust shattered, and they just held each other while heartbreaking sobs shook both their bodies. It was only natural when their eyes met, and in each other´s eyes they saw the same pain, and they knew no one else could ever understand how deep the loss they were feeling was, how it was changing them, tearing them apart. He had said it once, she was the lynchpin that held them together, and when she had left, without a glance in their direction, she had driven a sword through both theirs hearts.
When their lips met for the first time, it wasn´t awkward. It was comforting, and at the same time, it was strange. They would have never pictured themselves together, always holding on to the lines of friendship and propriety, both respecting the woman they loved so fiercely, she as her friend, and he as the man who adored her, but the end result was the same.
A tentative kiss of comfort had turned into something passionate, and yet it was filled with tenderness and patience. They couldn´t have stopped themselves more than they could have denied themselves the oxygen they needed to breathe, or food, or water. They had kissed, they had embraced, and before they knew it, she was straddling his lap, and he had taken hold of her hips, and walked them to his bedroom, legs hooked around his waist, fearing that if she let go, the spell cast around them would be broken. She needed him, and he needed her. It was as simple as that.
The next morning, when they woke, and they stared into each other´s eyes, they didn't say a single thing. There was no need for words, the silence was speaking for the both of them. She just smiled, and for the very first time in a long time, she didn´t feel the need to run, to leave, to get away from the complications of relationships. She wanted to know how he was intimately, and now she did. And it had changed her. As she stared into the depth of those chocolate brown eyes, she understood that probably her role in his life was to pick up the pieces of his shattered heart, and despite her natural instinct to protect herself, she wanted to be the shoulder he could lean on, even if that meant opening herself to a world of pain for her heart, a heart that suddenly wanted to be anchored.
She woke up, and she felt for him on the bed, finding his spot already growing cold. She sighed, but she would never, ever make a sour face, or a hasty comment. She knew that in those mornings, all he needed was silence, he deserved the peace and quiet, that much she knew, and she would give it to him. It was their silent agreement, it was their thing, something many people wouldn't understand.
She rubbed her swollen belly, and she smiled openly, feeling the ripples inside her body, welcoming the precious gift she carried. She didn´t have any reason to doubt herself or him, but she knew that there was a part of him she would never have. A part of him she would never own, and just as before, she had settled for having all those parts of him that she could have, all those parts of him that he wanted to give, which were more than enough, knowing that the tiny percentage she didn't own couldn't make her discard the love she felt for him, or make her feel less valuable in his eyes.
Their love had grown, it wasn´t the romance novel type of love. It wasn´t the love that happens at first sight, it wasn´t the love that when you see the other, your toes curl, though she knew hers had curled at his presence the first she caught sight of him, the heat at recognizing such a perfect piece of male, her keen eye attuned to every single detail of his statuesque anatomy.
And without knowing, little by little, she had been surrendering her heart to him, settling for amazing men, but nor for the one she truly wanted. And now that he was in her life, she would never let him go; it had certainly begun as heat and infatuation, but as she had had the precious chance to know him as his friend, and loving him in such, her feelings had transitioned, and given the turmoil her own life had been in, he had been exactly what she had needed.
She would never let the ghosts of his past drive her away, and she was determined to help him, though she saw the sadness in his eyes whenever a particular set of memories came rushing back, and she wished she had a magic potion to drive those memories away, because she hated how those erased the smile from his face, how his eyes lost his spark. How she hated her sometimes, even if she still loved her.
How she wished she could turn back time, and change things for him, even if that meant she would probably wouldn´t be in the picture. But she guessed her love for him ran deeper if she had grown to be so selfless that she would rather change the past for him at the risk of being in his life.
But the only time she had expressed her thoughts, he had kissed her doubts away and made love to her thoroughly, and passionately. She couldn´t be certain, but she knew, deep inside, that such was the night when their child was conceived.
The day she told him he was to be a father again, it was like a light had ignited inside of him again, and he had spun her around, laughing freely, and she was so happy she was the one to give him that joy, but no matter what she did, those ghosts still lurked around, refusing to be exorcised, and the only thing she could do was make sure he knew she wouldn´t desert him, even if it pained him to know that not all of his heart was in her, because he wanted to give her all of him, but that was no longer an option.
But she could love him enough for them both. She had learned completely, and she had said it several times, she gave herself fully, without fear, whenever she fell in love, and for this man, she would give her all, her very best.
She found her robe and tied it as she walked down the stairs towards the kitchen, and she found him in the spot where she knew he would be, in the same place where she had found him countless times before, and she leaned over to brush a kiss against his temple.
He raised his arms to grab her forearms and he rubbed his hands against her skin, relishing her smell, and how it had grown on his senses, overriding others, bringing him a peace and joy he never thought possible.
"Hey", he said tenderly, bringing one of her hands to his lips, kissing it lovingly, as she lowered her head and kissed his hair, letting him feel her smile against him..
"Hey", she said softly, "I hope I´m not interrupting your private brooding session, but I felt lonely up there without you", he tilted his head to look into her eyes, and seeing her open, honest smile, he felt relieved to see she wasn't upset or jealous, pure concern filling her features, and he was thankful he had found someone to come home to every night, someone he could love as she was and who love him back just the same.
But for a fleeting moment, staring into warm honey tinted eyes, he couldn´t help fight the shiver that ran down his spine as the same ghost came back to haunt him.
He remembered. Painfully so. And for one second, he wished he could wipe his memory so it vanished the memory of her. Because that ghost was so achingly beautiful, it had almost killed him to let go. That love had almost killed him.
But he was standing on his own two feet. He was doing well. Time had worked its magic. He had survived, and now he was living a full life, the one he deserved.
But in the dark recesses of his mind, that beautiful blue-eyed ghost, that ghost who had betrayed him, who had left him, who had left them, who had chosen to run instead of fighting for those she claimed to love, was still alive, and she still held the power to steal the smile from his face, though it didn't happen as often nowadays, and it was thanks to the woman before him.
He wondered what would happen if they crossed paths again.
One thing he was certain of: he would never betray someone who loved him the way she had. And she, this beautiful human being before him, had proven she deserved everything he could give her, even if they both knew a part of him had died the day she had fled.
And dead people don´t return from the grave.
She had taught him that. And a dog never forgets how painful the stroke of the whip can be. He had learned his lesson, and he was determined to never forget.
He breathed deeply, and he tugged at her arms, and she understood his silent request. She slowly moved to face him, and straddled his lap, the round bulge of the unborn life they had created, the child they both loved with every bit of their souls, resting between them.
He moved his hands over her abdomen, untying the knot that held her robe together at the front, and seeing his pain-filled smile, she tugged at his shirt, understanding, knowing, understanding she was the drug that would erase his pain, even for a little while.
Perhaps she couldn´t have all of him, but she could give him all of her and for once, she didn´t need more, even if a part of her would crave to have this wonderful man all to herself, and in these moments, as their naked skins fused, and their mouths traveled hungrily, tenderly, drinking each other in, she knew she did.
When their bodies stilled, their soaked skin glistening in the morning light, the scent of their joining acting like a powerful aphrodisiac, and the sounds of their ragged breaths filled the room, for that short second, he could forget everything he had lost and focus on what he had gained.
And all was fine in his world.
"Better, Mr. Booth?", she said seductively, running her hands over his chest, shinning with perspiration, drinking in every crevice of golden skin, every carved muscle, and she was hungry once more, thanking silently her pregnancy hormones for the carnal hunger than only seemed to grow, and that he was only too happy to oblige at her every whim.
"Much", he inhaled, looking into her eyes, willing his mind to forget, for once, and succeeding, even for a few seconds. He didn't have to pretend when he put on a happy face, for her, because she truly had mastered the impossible, and against her swollen lips, wishing he could devour her whole, he muttered lovingly, his voice husky with need and tenderness,
"Much better indeed… Mrs. Booth-Montenegro".
A/N: I'm ducking underneath my computer so I don't get the rotten tomatoes thrown my way! I know this seems unbelievable, but as I've rewatched many interactions between Booth and Ange, this is not entirely impossible: even in s10, she's still waaaay too flirty with Booth, and I honestly think that if she had been given free reign, she would have actually actively pursued him, and Booth flirted back always before he got together with Hannah and Bren, respecting the boundaries. I hope you understand where I'm coming from.
And please know that from 1 to 3 chappies will be posted each week, depending on the response. I HATE withholding material, and that's not my intention, but it's good to know if it's even worth the effort, as I continue to reread and proofread. Writers needs reviews to keep themselves on the straight and narrow. Thank you!