Okay, I know I promised another chapter of Cure this weekend, but I got sidetracked. This little plot bunny got stuck in my head, and demanded to be written. Hope you like it.
This is not related to any of my other stories, and tis a oneshot.
Discl: I wish. From the bottom of my Bones-deprived heart.
"Booth!" He turned to see Angela running towards him across the carpark.
"Ange? What's the matter?"
She reached him and stopped, panting slightly. "Nothing. I just need to talk to you about something. Can we go somewhere?"
Booth glanced at his watch, "Sure, but I've only got half an hour before I'm due back at the Hoover building."
"This won't take long."
Booth nodded, gestured for her to get in the passenger seat of the car. "Where do you wanna go? The diner?"
Angela nodded, smiled at him as she buckled her seatbelt. "Sure."
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Once they were settled in a booth at the diner, he couldn't restrain himself anymore. "So, what is it that you wanted to discuss?"
"Ok," she looked at him seriously across the table. "What I want to know is why you keep on denying."
"Uh, Ange, what are you on about? Denying what?"
"That you have the hots for Bren."
"What! I don't have –"
"Really, Booth. I know you think you've got better "people skills" than most squints, but you can't fool me. I know what's in your head."
"I have nothing in my head1 I don't have the hots for her!"
"Come on, Booth, give it up. Everybody can see it."
He looked at her, alarmed. "They all know?" he choked out, aghast.
Angela grinned. "So you admit there is something to see? I knew it!"
His face fell. "Oh, shit. I can't believe I fell for that."
Angela laughed. "Bow to the master, Booth. You really underestimate me, you know that?"
He smiled grudgingly. "So, does everyone really know?"
"Well, Hodgins knows, Cam suspects something, I'm sure. And Zack senses some anomaly in your body language when she's around, but nobody knew for sure. Except me." She added in a proud voice.
"Does Bones know?" His heart sunk at the thought.
Angela shook her head. "You know she's a thick as a post when it comes to matters of the heart."
Booth sighed in relief. "Sully suspects something too," he told her.
"What? How do you know?"
"Long story. Basically he accused me of having the hots for her. I denied it."
"Why?"
"Because he's her boyfriend, Ange. He would be completely within his rights to punch me if I said yes. I don't want to ruin her chance for happiness."
She wasn't convinced. "You didn't hold back with David. We all knew you hated him. Bren even caught that vibe." She laughed.
He shrugged sheepishly. "Well, she picked him up on the internet. It was my responsibility as a partner to check him out."
Her grin got wider. "Even when he came up clean, you still hated him. You were like wild beasts fighting over who got the best food."
"Bones isn't food! And I'm not a wild beast," he retorted indignantly.
"No, you're just an alpha male."
He groaned. "You've been listening to Bones too much."
"And why not? She speaks a lot of sense. You're an alpha male. And she's an alpha female." She lowered her voice conspiratorially, "They always end up together."
Booth was sceptical. "And Bones told you that? Somehow I don't believe it."
"No, that was her reasoning for why you and Cam were together. She just had her alpha females mixed up."
"Well, technically, Cam is her boss, and she's higher on the hierarchy at the Jeffersonian. So Cam is the alpha female." Booth was triumphant at having proved her wrong.
Angela snorted. "You really think Cam has any control over Bren?"
"Well, no," he admitted reluctantly. "But it doesn't matter, because she doesn't fancy me."
She sighed. "I swear, the two of you are as bad as each other." She laughed. "Bren is just as keen on you as you are on her."
"But – but I would have noticed."
Angela shook her head. "You're too busy pulling every move you can to realise that she's doing exactly the same thing. "
Booth eyed her shrewdly. "If that's true, why aren't you telling her this instead of me? You're her best friend."
"I already told her this exact same thing. She wouldn't believe me. I swear on my grandmother's grave."
"How do I know whether you're telling the truth or not? If I go confront her, how do I know she'll feel the same?"
Angela laid a hand supportively over his. "That, Booth, is part of being in love. The uncertainty. The excitement. The risk. The passion." A dreamy look crept into her eyes. "A real knight in shining FBI standard issue body armour would relish the risk. It wouldn't be baring your soul if there wasn't the risk it's gonna get trampled on. Or kung-foo kicked, in Bren's case."
"Thanks, Ange. That makes me feel so much more secure."
"Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit." She glanced at her watch. "Don't you have somewhere you have to be now?"
Booth took a deep breath. "Yes. I'll take you back to the Jeffersonian."
"And…?"
"And what?"
"And, will you have a discussion with our favourite forensic anthropologist?"
He sighed. "I will ask her out to dinner tonight. And I will discuss things with her there. Happy?"
She grinned, "Very! Let's go."
As they made their way back out to the SUV, Booth gulped. Baring his soul, he decided, was bound to be interesting. And possibly traumatic.
I know I'm bound to get requests for a chapter detailing their dinner. And I may deliver, if I get around to it. But for now this is the end. But feel free to review and put it on your alert list, just in case. ;) Jess xo