Disclaimer: I own nada.
In the Same Boat
It was a late Tuesday afternoon and the sun was slowly sinking its way toward the D.C. horizon. Two men sat on opposite ends of a pew in a small Catholic church on the outskirts of the city.
One wore a dark suit with a blue and purple striped tie. His elbows were firmly planted on his knees and he rested his chin on his clasped fists. Dark eyes bored into the ornate altar.
The other wore a sweater vest with a collared shirt and pressed, pleated pants. He slouched against the back of the pew, arms folded over his chest, staring at the gilded statue above him. A shock of blond hair fell in front of his eyes and he brushed it away.
They sat like this for several minutes before the silence became a bit overwhelming. The blond spoke up in a thick, Australian accent. "Do you come here often?" he asked politely.
The other man nodded briefly. "Yeah. You?"
He shook his head. "No, I'm just down here visiting friends. I live in New Jersey."
The dark-haired man sat up straighter and turned to look at his companion. "Yeah? My brother, Jared, lives in New Jersey."
"Mmm. What brings you here this afternoon?" the other inquired.
He grimaced. "Love troubles."
The Aussy's eyebrows shot up. "Well, it seems we're in the same boat!"
"Gone sour or no courage?"
"A little of both. You?"
"No courage. She's kind of... intense. What's your problem?"
"We've been in a relationship, but there's another guy and I just don't know what's going through her head. She says she's over him, but I'm not so sure," the blond explained.
"Do you love her?"
"More than she knows."
"Do you trust her?"
"Completely! It's him I don't trust. He can be kind of... unpredictable. And he likes to screw with her head. It wouldn't be the first time."
The D.C. native nodded. "Oh. Yeah, she did sort of sleep with one of my best friends. Granted, she doesn't know how I feel about her, but it still came as a shock."
His companion
laughed. "Well, they haven't slept together, but she had this odd
infatuation with him when we worked under him."
"Ah. The boss,
huh?"
The Australian nodded, wincing. "What about you?"
"We work together and she's my best friend. I don't want to ruin that," he offered, "Besides, she doesn't take much stock in love. Scientist, you know. It's all endorphins and serotonin."
"Alli's the same way. Atheist, been burned."
"You got a picture?"
"Yeah, somewhere," he pulled out his wallet and, riffling through it, pulled out a snapshot and handed it over.
"She's pretty. Who's that?" he pointed to the gray-haired man beside the couple.
"That's him," he said, glancing over.
"Well judging by this picture, I can tell you who has her heart."
The blond man's brow knit in confusion. "What do you mean?"
"Look at her. Who's she gazing adoringly at? Her boss or you?"
He took the picture back but before he could reply, the click of heels on cobblestone interrupted them. The dark-haired man looked up. "Bones! What are you doing here?"
"Booth, I need to talk to you," the newcomer declared. She was tall with auburn waves falling to her shoulders.
"O-okay. What's the matter? Do we have a case? Is it your dad?" he shot off a list of possibilities.
"No, I want to talk about us. I've thought a lot about what you said in the park about the line and everything, but I've also been thinking about the mistletoe and I think maybe the line is worth crossing. I thought about how it would change our relationship, but I think we can handle it. We're both professionals and-"
He stood, abruptly cutting her off. "You think too much, Bones." Pulling her into his arms, he covered her lips with his own. They completely forgot they had an audience until the blond visitor cleared his throat. They pulled apart, reluctantly, and a tad on the awkward side.
"Um, Bones, this is-"
The Australian's phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket, quickly answering it. "Hello. Alli, Alli! Slow down! What's wrong? All right. I'll be there as soon as I can. Don't let him do anything stupid until I get there." He tucked the phone under his chin to wish the two luck. "Love her, trust her. You'll do fine." He winked and then he was out the door. As the sound of a truck pulling away floated inside, the pretty scientist turned to her companion.
"What was he talking about? 'Love her, trust her?'"
He shrugged. "Just some friendly, recycled advice, I guess." He draped his arm around her shoulders as they slowly exited the small church. As the sun sunk below the rim of the horizon, he sent a grateful prayer up.
Thank you, Lord, for a guiding angel.
Even he was unsure whether he meant the beauty at his side or the nameless visitor hurrying home to his own sweet love.
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