Thank you so much to all who reviewed - I was stoked! I'm glad you all liked the last chapter, and I really hope that I can keep you interested!
NB: This chapter will explain some things - don't worry!
The Matter to the Bones
2. A Walk Down Memory Lane
Brennan woke the next morning feeling as though she hadn't fallen asleep to begin with. Roused by the intruding shrill of her mobile phone, she drew a pillow from the opposite side of her bed and buried her face beneath it, praying for the ringing to cease.
When it finally stopped, she had relaxed her rigid muscles for all of five minutes before it sounded noisily again. Knowing that she couldn't ignore it any longer, she struck out a hand blindly and fumbled for the cell on her bed side table.
"Brennan." Her tone was drowsy, but it was the best she could manage after a fitful sleep.
"Dr Brennan, it's Dr Saroyan."
"Yes?"
"I was just wondering when you were planning on making an appearance today."
Brennan muted, silently wishing that she could stay in bed and squander in self pity all day. Although wanting such a thing was very unlike her, the proposition was tempting, all the same.
"Dr Brennan?" her boss persisted when she didn't reply.
"Yes, I'll be in soon."
"Make that very soon."
"What time is it?"
"Nearly eleven." Cam's voice sounded a little irritated.
Sighing, Brennan dismissed her caller and tossed the phone in front of her. She would shower, skip breakfast and be there right away. Although it was a Saturday, showing up at work when it was nearly lunchtime was unacceptable.
Moaning, she threw her legs over the side of the bed and trudged to her shower. Upon taking off yesterday's clothing and stepping underneath the steamy spray, she willingly allowed herself to be engulfed by the soapy essences that hinted of lime and buttermilk.
She didn't have a plan.
But somehow, that nonexistent plan was going to work.
-B&B-
"Sweetie?" Angela called from the doorway of Brennan's office, not long after her friend had arrived. "You got a minute?"
Brennan sat down her laptop bag beside her desk and turned. "Is something wrong, Ange? How are you feeling?"
"I'm, good, sweetie, it's just that..." her best friend delivered slowly, "something is up. And it's not with me."
"Then why are you here?" Brennan furrowed a brown in confusion.
"Because, Bren. Something's up. With you. I mean, you didn't even say hi to Hodgins and Wendell."
Brennan sighed, momentarily meeting Angela's searching gaze.
Her friend immediately perceived the pain hidden behind them, and placed a comforting hand on her arm.
"Do you wanna talk about it?"Angela then prompted, motioning to the couch.
Upon receiving a nod of response, they took a seat.
"Where do you want to begin?" Angela patted her knee.
"Ange...I would like to tell you everything, but I find that I don't wish to recount all of the-"
"Bren."
"Hmm?"
"Just say it; say anything. I don't mind."
"I hurt," Brennan confessed, shrugging as if the notion were ridiculous. "I have this...this longing, and I can't explain it." She took a deep breath, contemplating. "He came to me last night - in the middle of the night - and wanted the truth, Ange, and I gave it to him. I demanded to know that, if he is such the friend he claims to be, why he couldn't be there for me when I needed him. Hannah just requires him for lustrous purposes. I just needed a shoulder-" she broke off mid sentence, frowning. "I don't mean literally, needing a shoulder..."
"It's okay, Bren. I get it."
"Really? Because Booth thought that I didn't."
"Sweetie, you have to remember that Booth is probably in denial-"
"Denying what?"
Angela's face twisted. "Just tell me where this all came from, please, Bren, or can't help you."
Brennan took a deep breath.
- ~ B&B ~ -
Thirteen Hours Ago...
The Founding Fathers was still brimming with people, who, while celebrating the freedoms of their Friday night, seemed completely oblivious to the drama that had unfolded within the past few days.
Brennan traced the rim of her wineglass absently, lifting her head occasionally to scan the full bar. A group of drunken work colleagues crowded in one corner. Two lovers, with their heads bowed together nibbled giddily at each other in another. Centred in front of her, a family of four had their hands buried in a bowl of hot chips.
Her father had left a few hours ago, and Brennan had gone home, paced, changed into a clean white cotton shirt, brushed off her jeans, put on her blue and white striped socks before sitting down to work on her novel.
Although she had a lot to say, nothing had left her fingers but one word.
Andy.
The name of the character that she had based Booth on. She might as well have typed her partner's name instead, because it would have had the same affect. She also knew that, would she ever write Hannah in, she would make her a criminal. That thought cheered her, but didn't ease the pain.
Frustrated, she had stuffed a wad of money deep into each jean pocket, pulled on a pair of boots, added a trench coat, and set off to drink her favourite beverage. Her tongue had ached for it. And she had needed a distraction.
Now, taking a larger sip of her wine, she savoured the white liquor in her mouth decently before swallowing.
The Gravedigger was dead.
Gone. Never again.
Brennan took another mouthful.
The last of her lingering, emotional ties to Booth.
Gone. He had moved on.
Another mouthful.
Staring at her empty glass, she massaged her temples.
"Bones?" The voice was almost stunned.
"Booth," Brennan replied, turning around instinctively to face the direction the voice had come from. She was just as surprised to see him here - and not in bed with his lover - as he was to see her drinking.
"Bones, what are you doing here so late?" He sounded almost wary.
"Having a drink." Brennan replied slowly, secretly wishing he'd join her, but upon seeing the company her kept, her heart fell, and all she called do over.
"Hello Temperance," Hannah greeted quickly, wrapping her arm around Booth's waist, and with her free hand, fiddling with the buttons of his shirt.
The forensic anthropologist's chest welled hysterically, and she felt an aggravated boil at the pit of her stomach.
"Hannah," Brennan acknowledged, swiftly meeting her with a smile. "How are you?"
"Really well," the blonde replied, sneaking her fingers even lower down on Booth's torso. "Seeley and I went to that new restaurant near the mall, and thought we'd come here for a drink. Brennan, I though you were with your father?"
"He went home a couple of hours ago." Her jaw tensed as she replied. "I came here for a drink; had an itch for Australian Barossa Valley."
"You like Australian wine?" Hannah gawked.
"It's the best besides Italian wines." Brennan waved for the bartender to refill her glass. "The Founding Fathers is the only place that will stock it, so, unfortunate for others, but good for me. I don't have to try very to get it, even though I could easily afford to have sent to me privately."
"Do you recommend it?" Hannah tried to conceal a bitter twist of her lips at the mention of how easy it was for Brennan to get what she wanted.
"If you're strong enough to handle it," Brennan challenged, taking a sip of her newly filled glass. "Yes, then, I do."
Hannah propped herself beside Brennan, despite Booth's subtle protests.
"Shout me a glass, and we'll see." Hannah waved the bartender.
"Get yourself a beer Booth, if you don't feel like our wine tonight," his partner advised as his girlfriend was served some white.
Our wine.
Hannah noticed the subtle eye exchange – saw the flicker of a memory shared in the split second they held each other's gaze. It reminded her of what she had originally sought out to do the night she discovered the beautiful scientist had feelings for the FBI agent.
It reminded her of what she needed to do.
She was good at this; she could be a pretty convincing, innocent investigator. She would urge Brennan to face her feelings in front of Booth, and hopefully it would force her man's partner to back off. She knew that Brennan would lock herself away from her feelings, and hide behind her logic. So long as Brennan retreated again, Hannah had nothing to worry about. She wasn't going to be anyone's rebound girl or consolation prize, and so long as Brennan was glued to Seeley, that was as much as she was going to be.
Brennan was watching her carefully, but for what reason, she had no idea; she knew Temperance couldn't read people socially to save her life.
"So," Hannah prompted after the casual conversation they then shared, had eased to silence. "The Gravedigger case...what exactly happened to you guys? Seeley never told me."
Brennan observed Hannah nudge Booth, but instead he inched a centimetre away, and his eyes darkened. He fiddled with the neck of his bottle of beer.
He was uncomfortable. Terribly.
No Hannah, she thought, meeting the sassy blonde's darting eyes with a warning stare. This went completely missed by the reporter, who was on the trail of a story that she couldn't let go.
Hannah knew that she had passed into dangerous territory, but she knew what she wanted. Even if she had to sting Seeley a bit in the process.
"I think we're all close enough now to share some secrets," Hannah pressed, ignoring the look that her boyfriend shot her. "I deserve to know what you guys went through. A bit of honesty."
"I...I was captured first..." Brennan revealed suddenly, and Booth's eyes met hers in alarm, "...by the Gravedigger. I thought I was going to die. So did Hodgins. Booth was...afterwards." Again, another deeply emotional stare was silently exchanged.
Hannah leant forward, ready to get the rest of the story. "What was it like?" she asked persistently, setting down her wine glass.
"What was what like?" Crystal blue eyes widened genuinely.
"When you thought you were never going to see anyone you loved...ever again?" Although the reporter momentarily regretted her bland question, she couldn't kill the curiosity. What had it felt like?
Brennan balked. "Excuse me?"
"You know...you two. Twice you thought you'd never see him again...so now the case is over...those feelings..."
"N-no," Brennan stammered, standing.
"What do you mean 'no'?" Hannah asked innocently, pursing her lips.
"I was kidding myself," she gasped breathlessly in reply. "I-I can't do this anymore."
"Do what?" The blonde tucked a stray lock behind her ear.
"N-no. I'm not playing this with you." Brennan shook her head and pulled a wad of notes from her pocket and thrust them at the bartender. "Keep the change," she told him, before pulling her coat from the back of her chair and striding out into the cool evening.
She hailed a cab hastily, and stumbled to the bus shelter.
"Bones, I am-" Booth had followed her out.
"Don't say anything Booth! You just sat there and let her abuse me," she interrupted him before he could make her feel worse than she already did.
"That's not what happened-" Doubtful.
"That is exactly what it was!" Fuming.
A bright yellow cab pulled over.
Brennan yanked the door open. "Go back to your girlfriend, Booth. Stop wasting your time with me." She slammed it closed and gave the driver directions.
Booth waited for her to turn and look at him as the car pulled away. She always did.
But not this time.
He hung his head despairingly, and struck the shelter with his fist - just at the moment when Brennan flicked her head around to gaze painfully at his person.
- ~ B&B ~ -
"Oh sweetie," Angela sighed sadly when Brennan had finished her recount. "I'm so sorry."
For a moment, the artist thought that Brennan would become rigid, and logical. She thought that her friend would turn her away again. But it was quite the opposite.
Brennan didn't say a word, but merely leaned in and rested her head on Angela's shoulder, who sighed and rested her own against the heart-torn woman in her arms.
This was enough.
There were footsteps at the doorway, but they were ignored.
Minutes, or moments later, Cam cleared her throat gently, encouraging the two to separate.
"Angela, Hodgins wanted you for lunch," she said quietly, standing by as the artist hugged Brennan reassuringly once more, and left.
Cam stared at her colleague, who met her gaze before slowly standing.
"The FBI wants that Gravedigger conclusion report by three, Dr Brennan."
The anthropologist nodded and came to face her friend. "Yes, of course. I'll have it for you in time."
Both paused, and Cam turned to leave.
"Tempe?" she asked hesitantly, aware of what she was going to say, and what effect it could have.
Brennan looked up, almost in alarm as her boss used her first name casually.
"Yes, Cam?"
"My take...for what it's worth."
"Yes?" Brennan folded her arms across her stomach.
"You were always my first choice for him."
- ~ B&B ~ -
There you have it, fellow readers - chapter two! I hope it explains a bit, and I hope that you're still interested: don't worry, of course there's a B&B encounter next chapter :) Again, thank you all so much for your reviews and support; they made my day!
Xx G