Needing to Confess

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: stares:: ::blinks:: ::stares again:: Yeah. I still don't own anything…but, you knew that from the stares, right?

Summary: How does Booth go from a discussion about questioning his faith one day, to ending up with the need to go to confession less than 24 hours later? Of course, Brennan and some fluffy smut has something to do with it. Set at the end of 5x14: The Devil in the Details. 2012 Bones Secret Cupid. AU.

Part I - The Prelude to His Sins

One thing that many practicing Roman Catholics had a tendency to do―even if they don't openly admit it to other people―is that when they need to go to confession, and are scared that their parish priest might recognize them through the screen of the confessional, they will often drive many miles out of their way to go to a church where no one knows who they are.

That was how FBI Special Agent Seeley J. Booth found himself on a Saturday afternoon, looking around nervously as he entered St. Anthony of Padua Roman Catholic Church. Swiping his hand in the holy water font that was by the door, he quickly made the sign of the cross as he bowed his head and headed towards the chapel where he knew one of the parish associate pastors was hearing confession. Yes, Booth had ridden all the way into Falls Church, Virginia―across the Potomac and more than seven miles up Arlington Boulevard, even though he normally attended Our Lady Queen of the Americas Roman Catholic Church in Georgetown, less than a mile from his apartment. And, he did this so that he wouldn't be recognized when he confessed―because he had several sins that he desperately needed to receive absolution for, and, not surprisingly, he needed that absolution because of his partner, one Dr. Temperance Brennan of the Jeffersonian Institute.

As he waited in the chapel, there was a small line of people waiting to take their turn in the confessional booth. After he had prepared himself by kneeling in front of the alter and making a silent, but heartfelt Act of Contrition, he took his place in the line against the wall and let his eyes dart around the group. To keep himself from drifting off, even though he knew he should be spending the time in thought and meditation, Booth began to make stories up about the people who were ahead of him.

Most of the small group gathered consisted of a few old men who Booth guessed might be widowers since they seemed to know one another and were unaccompanied by any corresponding older women. Maybe they go to confession before they meet for their weekly poker games and beer nights so they can start the whole process of sinning all over again? Booth thought. Then, there was a mother who had obviously forced her two pre-teen sons there. Now those guys are probably getting ready for Confirmation and that's why their mother is making them go even though they don't want to be here, Booth mentally observed. Don't worry, guys...you aren't the only ones here who'd rather be somewhere else. They sat with glum looks on their faces while they randomly shook their feet and their mother tried to keep their baby sister―a little girl with curly auburn hair and bright green eyes of no more than about eighteen months―from throwing a temper tantrum because she seemed torn between whom she wanted to be held by most…her mother or one of the sullen boys whom she kept reaching for with intermittent squeals of happiness and annoyance when she figured out she was being ignored. Booth smiled at the baby's antics. Eventually, as he let his mind drift to memories of when Parker was that age, time passed, and he found himself at the head of the line.

Standing up, he took and breath and tried to think of the best way to confess to the priest the exact reason that had brought him to seek absolution.

Twenty-four Hours Earlier

After what had been a particularly difficult case, Booth and Brennan sat at the main counter in the Royal Diner. Although she wasn't hungry, she knew she needed to talk to Booth, and it seemed like she needed to order something in order to make it appear that things were as normal as possible.

I need to keep up appearances, Brennan thought to herself as her finger played with the curved handle of the white cup that sat in front of her. This case…it was about the very things that Booth uses to define the most core aspects of his personality. God and the Devil―good and evil―right and wrong. He's always had such a strong moral core. If this case was as difficult for him as I think it was―if there's any chance that he's begun to doubt things about who he is, what he does, what he believes…well, then, I have to do whatever I can to bring him comfort. Perhaps I can…perhaps I can help him for once. Perhaps…maybe logic and rationality can be a balm for him as they've been for me. I…I-I…I just can't…he has to be okay. He has to be okay, because I can't…he just has to be.

Her mind made up, Brennan swiveled slightly on her stool and turned to face Booth. "I need to ask you some things," she said in a low voice.

Booth's warm brown eyes met hers with a knowing look. "You gonna ask me about God and the Devil?"

Brennan slowly nodded. "Yes."

Booth lifted his coffee mug slowly to his lips, took a sip, and then set it down on the counter before he spoke again and made a statement more than a question when he spoke. "You're going to ask me how God could place such a burden on good people."

"No," Brennan said with a slow shake of her head. "I'm going to ask you how you can still believe in a kind God after a case like this."

Because, Brennan thought. If you've lost your faith in God, if this case has shaken you that much, I'm scared, Booth. It could have lasting ramifications for you, for me, for our partnership…for us.

As the thought occurred to her, she tilted her head as she wondered if the idea that had suddenly just popped into her counted as a legitimate epiphany or not. Thus, distracted as she was, Brennan didn't really take in the whole meaning of his words as Booth responded.

"Was my faith shaken?" he asked, making it more as a rhetorical statement than a question that he'd actually expected her to answer. Thus, he continued on as he said simply, "Yeah. Mmmm hmmm. It is."

The calm nonchalance of Booth's response drew Brennan's full attention back to their conversation as she arched an eyebrow and asked, "It is?"

"Yeah," Booth told her with a nod of his head. "I'll go home tonight and I'll lie in bed, and I'll toss, and I'll turn, and I'll beat myself up, and uh…I'll question everything."

The words caused a tightening in the pit of Brennan's stomach as she considered the image he painted for her. For a moment, the image of Booth sitting in his apartment―all alone and in pain as he dealt with such a significant paradigm shift―flashed in her mind.

That's not what I want for you, she thought instantly. I…I can't seem to even contemplate the idea of you alone and in pain without having some type of psychosomatic physical response of my own. Oh, my...does that mean

"Will you get your faith back?" she asked, her words measured and as she tried to keep a bit of the panic that was threatening to come into her voice at bay.

Apparently, Brennan was fairly successful in hiding her panic, as Booth seemed not to notice that anything was wrong. Shrugging his shoulders slightly, Booth said, "Always have in the past."

As she considered his words, Brennan thought about what to do. Suddenly, the need to comfort Booth was too much. And, in that moment, her choice made, she changed everything for them...even if she didn't know so at the time.

It had started out innocently enough.

She had reached out and touched his thigh in a reassuring gesture. In one minute, they had been sitting at the diner and talking about things like faith and reason and taking comfort from the constancy of certain things. While her touch was intimate, it was in no way inappropriate given the fact that they'd been partners for four and a half years. It was a light pat, right above the knee, as she gave him a token of encouragement in the only way she knew how to communicate her feelings to him.

"It'll be okay," she said simply, her brow furrowing as she realized that the words she'd spoken didn't sound nearly as impressive as they had in her head when she thought about how to make him feel better before she verbalized them.

Again, Booth ignored the slightly negative look that had crossed Brennan's face. Instead, giving her a supportive smile of his own, he nodded and said, "I know, Bones…I know it will."

Realizing how long they'd been talking, Booth only noticed how much time had passed when he looked at their empty coffee cups and glanced at his watch. Seeing what time it was, he became aware of how long they'd been sitting there. His back ached a bit as he arched it like a cat contorting in a lethargic stretch. In spite of himself, he yawned.

Nodding at her, he said, "So, ummmm, it's getting kinda late, Bones."

As she looked down at her own watch, Brennan made a face as she realized how long they'd spent talking. "Oh," she said, her furrowed brow morphing into a full blown frown. "I didn't realize that so much time had passed."

"Time flies when you're having fun," Booth chuckled as he reached into his pocket, withdrew his wallet, and dropped a few bills on the counter. "You ready?"

Nodding, she replied instantly, almost speaking what was an automatic response. "I'd planned to return to the lab, but now―"

"How about," Booth interrupted her, as if he'd clearly anticipated her litany and was prepared with a way to divert her as he flashed one of his most charming grins. "We split a cab? It's late, and right now I think we both could use some shut eye."

"But, my car―" she began to protest.

"Will stay safe and sound at the lab until morning," he said. "Now, there's no need to worry that pretty little head of yours, Bones. I'll get up early, go pick up the truck, and swing by to get you on my way into the Hoover, huh?"

Knowing that the smile wasn't getting him anywhere, Booth tried a different approach. He then stared at her with what she could only term a truly pitifully look that he only gave her when he was either very hungry or very tired.

Taking pity on him, Brennan reluctantly sighed as she nodded. "Okay, very well. But―"

"But," Booth grinned, the pitiful look vanishing in an instant. "If I don't have you into the lab by seven, it's my ass. I know, Bones."

She chuckled at that, a throaty laugh that, nine times out of ten, Booth had trained himself to ignore since he'd awakened from that damn coma dream. He had to ignore it, really, since he'd come to realize that he now knew that that particular chuckle was a near and dear sibling to another sound that he'd come was aware that she only made in the most private and intimate of situations. However, on this particular night, it was the tenth out of tenth time, and Booth found himself unable to push the sound out of his mind. His throat went a bit dry as he gave her another smile, nodded, and waited for her to stand as she gathered her belongings. Once she'd adjusted the sash on her white trench coat, she turned to him, and smiled as she nodded towards the door. Booth fell into easy step behind her, and his hand took its familiar place in the small of her back. It was one of the sole remaining proprietary gestures that he'd still never been able to reconcile giving up since he'd awakened from his dream world.

She's mine, Booth thought as they walked out of the diner, Brennan raised a hand to hail a cab, and he watched her with an appreciative stare. She may not know it yet, I may not know how to tell her yet, and I'm pretty sure that neither one of us has any idea in hell what to do with it once we do, but it doesn't make it any less true. One of these days, I'll figure it out, and then…

Shaking his head as he let his thoughts drift away, Booth didn't know that right next to him that Brennan was having a slight war with herself. In many ways, she had become a better actress than he'd ever given her credit. While she seemed the picture of calm reassurance and measured rationality on the outside, on the inside, a single sentence that he'd uttered earlier kept replaying in her head.

'I'll go home tonight and I'll lie in bed, and I'll toss, and I'll turn, and I'll beat myself up, and uh…I'll question everything,' that's what you said Booth. You said, you'll question your faith, but do you know how scary that is to someone like me? How can a man like you, defined by your faith as you are, exist in a world where you can question it and still wake up the same person tomorrow? It's your bedrock. Besides using words like courage, honor, and bravery to describe you, I'd say you're a man of faith more than anything else. If you lose that, then what do you really have left? And, if you lose that, and lose yourself, and I lose you…then, what, really―what do I have left?

All too soon the cab ride was over before it'd even begun. Feeling torn and conflicted, as Brennan stopped to get out of the car when it pulled up in front of her building, she did something she'd never done before to that point in time. Instead of closing the door and wishing Booth goodnight, she turned to him with wide eyes and said, "I know you're tired, but…can I ask a favor? I don't…I don't want to be alone right now. Will…will you stay?"

Lifting his dark gaze to hers, Booth swallowed once as he searched for meaning in her eyes as he considered her words.

"Please?" she asked in a voice that was no more than a sigh of a whisper. She then implored him with her blue eyes shining with some emotion that seemed to be raging for control just behind the calm demeanor of her very measured and rationale façade.

As he stared at her pleading eyes, he felt a warmth blossom in his chest as he made his decision, and she didn't have to ask to twice.

-TBC-

Author's Note: This piece was written for penandra's wish list for the 2012 Bones Secret Cupid exchange. I was given quite the challenge…to write about B&B at any point in the series… ::cue sarcastic music:: Anyway, all slight teasing aside, the openendedness of the request actually made my job easier as it let the creativity flow. Hopefully, the end result us something akin to what was wished for… at least, if not, it counts that it's detailed…right? Like most things I write, it turned out to be longer than I thought it would. The second part (containing the aforementioned hotness) is coming up shortly. In the meantime, I'd love to hear what everyone thinks. Happy Valentine's Day!~