It's never good when a guy has free time to think. The case was done, but he still needed Brennan's final forensics' report to close the file. Her cell had gone straight to voice-mail - twice. So, here he is, walking through the doors of the Jeffersonian. The Canadian Maple Leafs (which was such a stupid name) are due to play his beloved Flyers, and while driving over, the sports guy on the radio had been favoring the Maple Leafs. He'd started brooding over Toronto, which had brought him to the Tommy Guns with Bones the night before, which brought him to that phone call from that loser from TORONTO, Jean-Paul. He's always known Bones has "friends," colleagues she calls them, that she could hook up with when she desired, "affectionate companionship" and sex. He's just never had to face it so blatantly. He wonders if she'd hooked up with Jean-Paul (what the hell kind of name was that anyway) while he'd been with Hannah? Or that other numbnut who's name he can't remember. Not that it was any of his business.
"Whoa, Booth. What's with the scowl?"
Booth looks up to see Cam watching him quizzically. She has that happy "I'm in love and got laid last night" glow, which annoys him. Even though he is glad that things are working out for her, the reminder of what's NOT working out for him still smarts.
"What? It's 11am and I haven't had my second cup of coffee yet."
"Right...You know, Valentine's day is over, so..."
"Yeah, that's why you're looking so miserable."
"Okay. So what did you do to not mark the occasion?"
He can't help it. A grin breaks out as he remembers firing those Tommy Guns.
"Oh, when down to the shooting range to celebrate the Valentine's Day massacre."
"Wow. Did you put Hannah's picture on the target?"
"No." He scowls again. "I don't want her dead. I just don't want this whole love, marriage, forever celebration, this true love BS."
As he sees Cam's face, he softens up a little. "I shot at those stupid valentine's day hearts. You know, the Hallmark crap. "
Yikes, thinks Cam. Not pretty.
"Then Bones stopped by with these AWESOME Tommy guns and we just massacred the walls! It was -"
"Wait, Brennan, stopped by?"
"Well, yeah...she hates Valentine's day too. She sees what a waste it is."
Cam thinks about that moment in the lab, "At least I have someone," and cringes. It's still hard with Brennan, even after five years. Cam knew - about a second after the words had left her mouth - that Brennan hadn't intended to be mean. She'd been trying to make conversation, to say that it was okay, that she, Cam, SHOULD be enjoying Valentine's day, and not feel bad about celebrating. The problem, of course, is that Dr. Brennan is horrible at making conversation, and has a way of making everything sound awful. Watching Brennan leave, seeing her eyes as she agreed that, yes, Cam was better off than her, Cam had felt like she'd kicked a puppy.
She'd watched Dr. Brennan turn down at least four different Valentine's day offers, without batting an eye. She wondered if Booth even had a clue.
"What, Cam?"
Cam's eyes gleam, if he doesn't have a clue, he needs to get one.
"I'm just trying to see the appeal of Tommy guns verses fabulous dinners and great sex."
"Excuse me?"
Cam laughs, "Well she turned down at least four different male companions wanting to wine, dine, and have sex with her."
Four other men? He doesn't need to hear this. He's always known Bones had outlets for her "biological urges" but six different guys calling to hook up with her? He wonders if she's slept with all of them. He wonders when the last time she had was. All things considered, he's got no right to wonder about that...It's none of his business. It's not like she's been in love with any of them. What was it she'd said..."they all assume I'll be available."
"Look, the day is meaningless. Sure if you're in love it gives you a calendar date to treat each other extra special, but I'd like to think that people in love wouldn't need a calendar date to want to do that. Bones knows these guys don't care about her, they just want - well you know..."
"Sex?"
"Yeah. Dressing it up with pretty words and flowers, whispering "I love you when you know next to nothing about each other, just so you don't feel like a loser, well, those guys are just fooling themselves."
"Yes, I guess those guys are."
Booth doesn't like the way she says that, but Cam just raises an eyebrow, daring him to comment or challenge her statement. He isn't up to it, not when his words are swirling through his head and taunting his psychic.
"Is Bones in her office?"
"No."
"No?"
"She's teaching over at GW until 4."
Damn-it, why doesn't he know these things! It's another painful reminder of how distant he'd let himself become from her life.
"I thought that was on Mondays?"
"That's a different class. She's teaching two this semester."
Two classes? She was overworked with just one. Between the cases, her books, supervising the interns, and her other Jeffersonian museum work I'd found it amazing she had time to teach at all. But, that's what she does with pain, bury it with work. She works herself to exhaustion so that she falls asleep at her desk, works so that there's no space to think or feel. No wonder the Ames case had knocked her for a loop...it dug into what...what she'd been trying to bury.
He has wanted to believe it was the stress of the case that made her say those things that night. Now he can't delude himself anymore. Yes, it was the stress, but it had broken through her walls and made her blurt out what she'd wanted to forget and hide. She'd wished it was her he was with.
He wonders what would have occurred between him and Bones if Hannah had just stayed the hell in Afghanistan - instead of chasing him down for what he now knows was just an extended good time. The thought stuns him with sadness and fury. Sadness for what could have been. Fury at the woman who seduced him into thinking he was going to find his happily-ever-after with her instead of Bones, and fury at himself for letting her.
"Seeley."
Cam's voice pulls him out of his thoughts, and he focuses in on Cam's now sympathetic brown eyes.
"The only final thing in this world is death. Everything else has the capacity for change."
Booth looks at her blankly a moment and then smiles.
"You know, sometimes I forget that you're a squint, too,"
"Excuse me?"
"It took you two sentences to say, "It's never too late."
Cam swats his shoulder, but grins as she does so. Booth laughs.
"What? What did I do?"
Cam brushes past him.
"What you did, Seeley, is far less important than what you do."
It takes him a second to realize the change of topic had gone back to Bones again, and Cam was already swiping on to the platform. He thinks about going after her to give her the papers for Bones, but decides he'll come back at 4. Cam is right. As broken as he'd felt that night, Bones...had not wanted to do what Hannah had done. He believes in marriage, Bones doesn't. His talk of 30-40-50 years must have seemed impossible in the moment. She'd been afraid of trying and failing and losing him. He'd been afraid, too. Maybe that was why he'd hedged his words... maybe he hadn't been absolutely sure that they could work. Maybe he'd moved too soon.
Smiling sadly to himself, Booth walks out the glass doors, wondering if he'll ever get it right, and hoping, just a little, that maybe someday he will.
