A/N: After spamming Taylor Swift's You Belong With Me while doing a Bones blogskin, I began seeing Brennan and Booth's relationship in the lyrics. The lines concerning the two girls somehow took on a metaphorical meaning when I looked at Hannah's and Brennan's… acquaintance. The idea kind of gripped me, and so here I am, with my first try at a songfic. POV is mostly Brennan's, but every now and then it swaps to Booth's. Set after 6x09, but with time skips to season 5.
Disclaimer: I don't own Bones. If I did, Booth wouldn't have lost his brains and heart just because he saved an incredibly hot blond woman in Afghanistan. *pokes producers & writers with a very sharp pencil*
You Belong With Me
You're on the phone with your girlfriend, she's upset.
She's going off about something that you said,
'Cause she doesn't get your humor like I do.
I'm in the room, it's a typical Tuesday night.
I'm listening to the kind of music she doesn't like,
And she'll never know your story like I do.
Temperance Brennan dumped her bag on the table. She drew a deep breath, staring at the spacious apartment and trying not to think about how lonely it felt. She was alone. But she had always been; she just… hadn't realized it. Being alone wasn't the same as feeling alone. She understood that now.
But understanding had come a little too late.
Hannah was drop-dead gorgeous. And she had the people skills that Booth had often said Brennan lacked. Brennan could see why Booth had fallen so quickly for her, but it didn't make the pain any easier to bear. Her chest tightened. She closed her eyes, fighting back the sudden surge of tears.
Three months.
Three months since her tearful confession in the car, since the case that had turned her world upside down. Three months, and their partnership had finally returned to some semblance of normalcy. Brennan had been cautious not to jeopardize it. The only reason she'd rejected Booth that night was because she had been afraid of losing the one thing that she loved. Of losing their friendship. Of losing all that they had shared together. She couldn't bear it. She wasn't a gambler, like him. She didn't have the open heart he needed, the open heart to embrace this change, even if she desired it with all of her being.
Now she was ready to open her heart, and it was too late.
But it was obvious that Hannah didn't quite know Booth. He very discreetly steered their conversations away from sensitive issues, like gambling and alcoholism. He clearly didn't want to breach said matters with Hannah, and though it was strange, Brennan found comfort in that. She found comfort in the fact that she still knew Booth better than Hannah did. That their partnership was still here – bruised, broken and perhaps bleeding – but still precious. Precious enough that both would do whatever they could to salvage what was left of it. It was a soothing balm for her heartache – heartcrush.
She knew his life story.
Hannah did not.
But she wears short skirts, I wear T-shirts.
She's Cheer Captain and I'm on the bleachers,
Dreaming about the day when you wake up and find
That what you're looking for has been here the whole time.
Hannah sauntered in, her figure-hugging dress accentuating the delicious curves of her body. Booth walked beside her, hand on the small of her back. Brennan couldn't help but notice the sunglasses perched on her head.
Her sunglasses.
Brennan plastered a false smile on her face as the couple took their seats opposite her. It had become a routine. A painful routine, like a ravenous beast threatening to sink its razor-sharp claws into her fragile, metaphorical heart and rip it into a thousand pieces. But Brennan had made up her mind.
She wouldn't walk down the same path Booth had when she'd rejected him on the steps of the Hoover.
She would wait.
Unlike Booth, she would endure the pain. It was better to feel something – even if it hurt so much – than nothing at all. Micah had taught her that. She wouldn't compartmentalize this, at least not completely.
Booth hadn't been there for her when she came back.
But, she promised herself, she would be here when he did.
If you could see that I'm the one who understands you,
Been here all along, so why can't you see?
You, you belong with me,
You belong with me.
Seeley Booth shifted uncomfortably in his seat. They'd come only to dispute the facts mentioned in Sweets' new book. He hadn't expected to get anything more than just an apology and a promise to rectify the issue. He certainly hadn't expected the psychologist to throw free counseling in. Though, knowing Sweets, he should've at least guessed he would.
"One of you has to have the courage to break this stalemate," Sweets said. His intense gaze bore into the FBI agent's. Booth gulped. His heart thudded rapidly in his chest. Please don't say it. Please don't.
"You."
Sweets' tone had gone dangerously low, and Booth's mind reeled at the implication. If it were even possible, his heart both sank and rose at the same time. He drew a sharp breath.
"It's gotta be you. Because you're the gambler."
Precisely why I can't do this. He couldn't put their partnership – their friendship – on the table. He couldn't leave this to the cards, to fate. He couldn't play their partnership and hope for a win. It was too important. Too precious.
"For once, make that work for you."
No. But he saw the reasoning. Bones wasn't the kind of woman to take such chances. If he wanted a chance at eternity with Bones, he had to make the first move. He understood Bones. She might not realize it, but he understood her. It was why he'd never, ever said anything about taking their friendship to the next level. He knew it would frighten her. And when she was frightened, she would reject it outright. Then she'd run away.
Booth caught the gaze of the beautiful woman sitting next to him.
A conflicting series of emotions passed her calm features, each lasting less than half a second. He thought he saw hope. Five years was a long time to wait. Five years was a long time to get ready. Five years… he was ready. Wasn't she?
They left the Hoover.
He was the gambler. He played their partnership; he made his move. Too early.
He lost.
She ran.
The center fell apart – Bones left for the Maluku Islands, Booth to Afghanistan.
But somewhere in the thick fog of hurt, somewhere in his heart as he took yet more lives, somewhere in his mind when he saved the beautiful journalist from certain death, Booth knew. He knew that he belonged with Bones.
And Bones belonged with him.
Walking the streets with you and your worn-out jeans,
I can't help thinking this is how it ought to be.
Laughing on a park bench, thinking to myself,
Hey, isn't this easy?
"You did bring that for me. To charm me in case I didn't find your humiliation so impressive, but I did." The corners of her lips tugged upwards into a thin smile.
Booth couldn't help grinning at that. "Aha," he said with a smirk, "so I did impress you."
"That's what impressive means, dummy."
He set Smurfette on the table. The scene changed.
He was knocking on a suspect's door. There was no response. Brennan was getting impatient. She paced up and down the landing, before her face lit up in enthusiasm. "Hey, break down the door!"
"It hurts my shoulder when I break down the door!" The words dropped from his lips before he could stop himself. Their light-hearted banter was becoming a habit, a routine that they both enjoyed, even if they wouldn't admit it. At that moment, Booth's heart swelled with pride. That Bones would remember the tiny things he did gave him comfort. Brennan peered through the window.
The scene faded.
Booth opened his eyes, staring at the blond woman next to him. Hannah had offered him a physical reward for saving her. He'd thought about Bones then, but the need to stop hurting made him accept.
Now he couldn't stop thinking about all the times they barged into each other's offices unannounced. About that moment of indescribable joy when Brennan left him an access card to the Jeffersonian's forensic platform. About all the conversations they'd had in his SUV. About the immense relief and gratitude to God that had flooded him when he saw the small puff of smoke in the ground. When he dug, ignoring the hot gravel, clasping her cold hand, pulling her out of the ground. How the tears had sprung to his eyes when he saw that she was alive.
Her life, God's greatest gift to him.
He loved her.
And you've got a smile that could light up this whole town,
I haven't seen it in a while since she brought you down.
You say you're fine, I know you better than that.
Hey, what ya doing with a girl like that?
She wears high heels, I wear sneakers.
She's Cheer Captain and I'm on the bleachers,
Dreaming about the day when you wake up and find
That what you're looking for has been here the whole time.
Brennan loved the way Booth smiled.
It was a smile that started from the corners of his lips, tugging upwards until it reached his eyes. She loved how, when he smiled, she could see the smile in his eyes.
Now he reserved that smile for Hannah.
But she couldn't help noticing that more often than not, the smile in his eyes was still reserved for her, and her alone.
If you could see that I'm the one who understands you,
Been here all along, so why can't you see?
You belong with me.
Standing by and waiting at your back door,
All this time, how could you not know,
Baby, you belong with me,
You belong with me.
Lauren's case had woken her to the world of emotion.
Brennan realized just how much Booth meant to her. She understood him in a way that only she could. And likewise, he understood her in a way that only he could. It was this unique, mutual bond they shared – a bond that had been forged through their constant arguments, and strengthened in the flames of danger.
She wanted him to be happy, even if it meant having to watching him and Hannah make out over lunch.
She'd missed her chance, but she hadn't missed the chance to let Booth be happy. That was a chance she wasn't willing to let slip. She knew that he loved Hannah. True love – something that Booth had told her she'd believe in one day – was letting that person be happy, even if it hurt.
She believed in it now.
Brennan shrugged off her trench coat. The apartment was as empty and silent as ever. She missed their late nights together, their case-finished drinks, and their casual yet serious conversations about life in general. But missing something didn't bring that something back.
She stood under the running shower.
No one made her feel the way he did. Loved.
She belonged with Booth.
Oh, I remember you driving to my house in the middle of the night,
I'm the one who makes you laugh when you know you're 'bout to cry.
And I know your favorite songs and you tell me 'bout your dreams.
Think I know where you belong, think I know it's with me.
"I can't live like this, Seeley. I can't." Booth stared silently at Hannah, who continued throwing her items into bags. "You and Temperance – there's something special that you share."
"Bones and I are just partners," he tried desperately.
Hannah stopped then. She looked at him, giving him an oddly twisted smile. "Seeley, you are only lying to yourself. I should've known then. Temperance is the woman you think about when you're alone. She's the woman you know inside out, to the extent that you'll go to the Jeffersonian on a gut feeling and follow her to a bad part of town to save her life. She's the woman you share a song and wonderful memories with. She's the woman whose dreams you know about. She's the woman who knows you the way you know her."
She threw the last of her items into the bag.
"And I can't live like this, knowing that I'm in the way of something so special."
He knew. He didn't want to admit it, but she'd hit the nail on the head. She was right.
"Hannah, I tried," he whispered, defeated.
Hannah smiled. "I know, Seeley. I tried too. I know you wanted to make this work. But you had the wrong reasons for doing so."
He recoiled, as if stunned.
"Your hand." He extended it. She dropped the spare key to his apartment on his open palm, brushing her lips gently across his. He could only watch as she made it to the door before turning back.
"You belong with her, Seeley."
The door closed with a soft click.
Can't you see that I'm the one who understands you?
Been here all along, so why can't you see?
You belong with me.
Standing by and waiting at your back door,
All this time, how could you not know,
Baby, you belong with me,
You belong with me.
It was after midnight. Brennan reclined in her bathtub, closing her eyes and letting the radio's music wash over her. Then she heard the incessant knocking on the door. Annoyed, Brennan rose. Wrapping a bathrobe around herself and running a hand through her wet hair, she opened it.
There stood the last person in the world she'd expect.
It took her a moment to find her voice. "Booth?"
"I brought Thai."
She stepped back. He entered. She closed the door quietly, staring at him as he walked to the table. Brennan didn't ask. He hadn't been here at this time since they'd flown back to save Cam's job. That he was here, like the old days, told her all she needed to know.
An awkward silence descended.
Hot Blooded came on the radio.
Suddenly, Booth grinned, shaking the paper bags in his hand. "Dinner?"
Brennan smiled.
You belong with me.
Have you ever thought just maybe,
You belong with me?
You belong with me.
A/N: 6x09 made me bawl my eyes out! I seriously believe that Brennan will get into danger at some point in the season. And that will make Booth wake up his idea. Say, guys, what will it take for Booth to break up with Hannah?
