The Trouble in the Date
Rating: K+
Summary: Oneshot, set sometime before the 100th. Brennan shows up at Booth's door after an unsuccessful date, seeking comfort from the only constant in her life.
Pairing: Strong BB friendship.
Warning: Possibly light spoilers for all seasons, with the exception of the latter half of s5.
Disclaimer: I don't own Bones or "I Stumble In" by Shaw-Blades.
"It's all the same - you go home empty again.
Well you know where there's a shoulder you can lean on.
I can't begin to tell you everything I'm thinking;
Sometimes I'd rather just not think at all."
The later half of a hockey game played on the flatscreen mounted on the wall, though the sound had long since been muted. It hadn't been keeping his attention anyway, Booth acknowledged as he grabbed the remote, and the screen went black. He tossed it back onto the table and tiredly ran a hand down his face, wincing at the abrasiveness of his five o'clock shadow.
A Friday night alone… Normally he didn't really notice the loneliness that came with the single life; he usually spent Friday evenings with Bones, working a case, talking over drinks at the Founding Fathers, food at the diner, or takeout.
Not tonight, unfortunately. She had a date – one of several over the last few weeks. Booth could count on one hand the times that he had seen the guy, and usually it had been brief or in passing. He had somehow refrained from prying too much, though he wondered if he should have, considering her track record with men. This guy seemed decent though, but then again so had the guy who had turned out to be a recruiter for some cult. And then there was that other guy who had decapitated his brother…
He shook his head. If he allowed himself to continue to mull over those thoughts any longer, he'd really start to regret not checking up on him. Surely she had attracted a normal guy this time – that there was a limit on how many weirdos you could attract in a lifetime. No, he was glad he hadn't run a background check on him. Normally he would have teased her about doing so – though he rarely went through with it - because he knew how much it got under her skin, leading to one of their infamous banters; but this time he had forced himself to take a step back no matter how much he loathed the idea.
He heaved a heavy sigh. He wished hewas the one taking her on a date tonight – he couldn't deny that. Knowing that his feelings for her weren't reciprocated, he hadn't even offered to push them onto her. Sure, Cam knew and so did Sweets, unfortunately, and Booth was sure that Angela thoughtshe knew; but somehow Bones had remained oblivious. Good, he thought. It needs to stay that way, at least for a little longer. He'd never forgive himself if he owned up to his feelings and inadvertently sent her running or caused her to put those walls back up that he had fought so hard to tear down over the last five years.
He wanted her happy, and if dating someone else – even if it left him home alone on the weekend – made her happy, how could he interfere? There was no reason for both of them to be miserable in the love-life department (even if she didn't yet believe in love, he firmly believed that she one day would). If she wanted to date someone else, he would let her. It's not like he could stop her anyway.
An abrupt knock at the door derailed his thought train, and he slowly stood and moved to the door. Without looking out, he unlocked and opened. At the sight of his partner, he could only quirk a brow and shoot her a quizzical look. "Bones, what are you doing here?"
She pursed her lips and glanced behind him, almost as if she was seeing if he was alone. "I probably should have called first… Can I come in?"
"Yeah, of course." He stepped back so that she could slide by him. He shut the door, flipped the deadbolt, and shot a glance at the nearest clock. The night was still fairly young, so it was either past the guy's bedtime or dinner hadn't gone very well. His gut was no doubt telling him it was the latter. "Can I get you anything to drink?" He asked, following her into the living area.
"No, I'm fine." She unbuckled and shrugged out of her khaki trench coat before tossing it carefully across the back of the sofa. She slipped off her heels next to his coffee table, and she took a hesitant seat on the edge of the couch. She was still dressed up, which allowed him to infer that she probably had not been home yet.
He took a seat beside her on the couch, and he was the first to break the lengthy albeit comfortable silence. "What happened?"
It was all the prodding Brennan needed. "He left."
Booth winced, knowing fully well that she didn't just mean the restaurant. Not again,he thought. "I'm sorry, Bones." He said honestly, lacking anything better to say.
"It's illogical for you to be sorry, Booth. It wasn't you who left." She stated in a matter-of-fact tone.
He offered her a sad smile. "I know, but I wish that you didn't have to go through someone walking out on you again."
She worried her bottom lip before continuing the story. "We hadn't even ordered our food yet. I walked in and explained to him why I was a little late – as you know, the both of us were interrogating our suspect."
He nodded. There had been a break in the case earlier in the day, and they had been following lead after lead until they had finally made an arrest. If Booth had dropped her off at the lab on his way back to the Hoover building, she would have had time to spare. She instead had insisted on going with him to the interrogation. Though lengthy, it had produced them a confession, but the delay had caused her to be late to the guy's reservations at the restaurant.
"He was clearly upset. He said that he felt like the relationship wasn't going anywhere. He said that my heart wasn't in it, which was - to him - apparent because I'm not just seeing him."
That was news to Booth. He'd thought that she was past the stage of dating more than one guy at a time. With raised brows, he asked, "You're with someone else, too?"
"No, and I told him that I wasn't. He blatantly refused to believe me. He was acting so strangely… He started ranting about how 'he knew the truth' and that he 'refused to share a woman with someone else', like I'm some possession." Her face clearly showed her distaste at his latter statement.
"Bones, how do you always manage to attract the psychos?" Booth muttered as he leaned back into the sofa.
She tossed him a glare that held no malice, but she gave no scientific, lengthy retort. She instead chose to continue with the tale of her troublesome date. "I finally just asked him what was wrong with him."
"Geez, you were that blunt?" He shouldn't have had to ask – this was Bones, after all. Still, Booth couldn't help but grimace, feeling almost sorry for the guy (almost being the key word there - maybe if he hadn't been such a bastard and left Bones).
"Yes," she said straightforwardly, "and it was effective. I got my answer."
"And it was?" He prompted.
"He said that he feels threatened."
When she made no move to elaborate, Booth smirked. "Okay, I'll bite. By what, exactly? Your intellect?" He knew fully well that she had that affect on people. Even he still occasionally felt intimidated by her vast knowledge, but nowhere near as much now as he had at the beginning of their partnership.
She shook her head, a ghost of a smile playing at her lips briefly before fading just as suddenly as it appeared. Maybe he had imagined it – he wasn't sure. She looked at him pointedly as she answered, "Of you." Her tone was conversational, in no way accusatory or angry as she delivered the last answer that he'd ever have guessed.
Feeling floored, Booth was unable to keep his jaw from falling slack. "Of me?" At her nod, he shook his head in confusion. "Why? I've barely spoken to the guy." I actually didn'ttryto intimidate this one,he tacked on mentally.
"He feels intimidated by the relationship that you and I have."
"Oh," he murmured awkwardly, for once completely at loss for words.
"He's not the first man that I've been with to feel that way." She continued casually but refused to look up at him, suddenly seeming interested in the carpet.
"I-," he fumbled for words, unable to make himself apologize for what they had. "Do you want me to talk to him?" He offered instead. He wasn't sure what he'd say to the guy if she said yes, but he knew that he had to say something rather than just sitting there like a knot on a log.
"No, that is unnecessary. I didn't foresee the relationship lasting much longer, anyway. As visually stimulating as Mason may be, he wasn't very interesting in conversation. As you know, I have grown to appreciate both traits rather than just one or the other."
They shared a silence that was neither awkward nor comfortable. Brennan stared calculatingly at the wood grain pattern in the coffee table, obviously struggling with words she wanted to say, and Booth struggled to regain control of his racing thoughts. Was he a hindrance to her finding happiness in another guy? Part of him rejoiced at this while the other half couldn't help but feel guilt.
"Thank you, Booth." Brennan said abruptly. When he raised his head to look up at her, he found her eyes boring into him intensely.
He frowned in confusion. Had he missed something? "Excuse me?"
Brow creasing slightly in slight frustration, she raised her voice slightly and repeated herself. "I said, 'Thank you.'"
He could only stare at her quizzically, waiting for her to continue. He had no idea what she was thanking him for.
"Has your hearing been impaired?"
He held back a chuckle. "No, I just have no idea what you're thanking me for."
She released a sigh, readying herself for what she was going to say next. "For being my partner and my best friend, and for not leaving me like all the other men in my life have."
Struggling to shove away his surprise at her words, he offered her a warm smile. "Your welcome, Bones."
A/N: I know, pointless friendship fluff. Still, I hope you enjoyed despite the grammatical errors and the shortness of the fic. :D
Leave a review? It'd be greatly appreciated.
On a side note, I changed my account name. I'm no longer xLadyVaderx, as you can see.