A/N: So, due to popular demand (and some good points brought up by reviewers), this fic is actually being expanded. At the moment, my guess is that there will be between three and five chapters total. As a side note: while re-reading the first chapter, I realized that I inadvertently quoted a Harry Potter character. Did anyone else catch that? It's a bad sign when you start quoting one of your fandoms without even being aware of it. ;-) Needless to say, I own Harry Potter every bit as much as I own Bones (e.g. not at all).
I also wanted to ask: are the tense changes in this chapter confusing? I don't have a beta, and I've read this chapter over so many times that I've lost objectivity.
Finally (just in case it isn't obvious), the large chunk of text in italics in this chapter is a flashback.
Chapter Two: The Morning (and Afternoon) After
.
It's Saturday afternoon, and Booth is at the bowling alley. He feels as though he ought to be looking forward to this a lot more than he actually is. But instead of thinking about the beautiful woman he's going to meet, he finds his mind wandering back to this morning and to her.
The woman in question had barely remembered anything about the night before, of course. Typical Bones. Just when he thinks he's figured her out, she throws him for another loop without even realizing it.
And admitting that she doesn't like his relationship with Catherine? That definitely qualifies as a loop. A major loop.
If it wasn't for the fact that she'd been under the influence of some pretty strong painkillers last night, he'd think that she was running away again. Of course, he's aware that she probably – OK, definitely – never would have told him all of that if she hadn't been so high. And considering that he's the one who convinced her to take the damned things, he can't really blame her for sending him contradictory messages.
But still…
"I hope I wasn't too much of an imposition yesterday, Booth," Bones had said hesitantly. "Although assistance was unnecessary, I appreciated your company."
"Nah, that's what family does," he said, dismissing her words.
Looking worried, she continued, "I didn't say anything too odd, did I? When I broke my right fibula as a young adolescent, Russ told me that I alternated between hallucinations of orange manatees – which, of course, was ridiculous as manatees are not orange – and confessing to my crush on Andy Pflueger while under the influence of analgesics."
"You don't remember anything from last night?" Booth asked.
"Only portions," Bones replied. "I think I tried to get some of my paperwork done at one point. Why, what did I do?"
This was too good an opportunity to pass up.
"Seriously, Bones, you don't remember? You wanted to start an institute to prevent discrimination against purple elephants."
Bones looked horrified. "I did?"
Booth nodded seriously, but was only able to keep a straight face for a few seconds before a smile cracked through.
"You… you're awful!" Bones said, lightly punching him with the hand attached to her uninjured arm. "You were teasing me."
Booth shrugged, smirking. "Sorry, couldn't resist."
"Hmmph," Bones snorted, disgruntled. "I'm being serious, Booth. I didn't do anything embarrassing, did I?"
And now he had a choice. But in the end, it wasn't much of one.
"Nope, nothing embarrassing. Really, Bones, you let me down. I was looking forward to some new blackmail material."
"What do you mean, 'new'?" Bones asked suspiciously.
"Well, it's kinda what good friends do."
"Collect material for blackmail on one another?"
"Get to know each other well enough to have access to embarrassing episodes about the other's life, yeah."
"That is a peculiar definition of friendship."
"Naw, 'cause it means that for every good story you've got on them, they've got a good one on you. It's a matter of balance and it means that you can trust them."
Bones shook her head at his words.
"I reiterate: that sounds more like a truce than a friendship."
"Agree to disagree?" Booth asked wryly.
"That seems reasonable," Bones said, then changed the subject. "How is Parker?"
"Oh, uh, he's doing well. Division U-10 in soccer this year – his team is the Pirates. They've won over half their games this season. And I bet you know about as much as I do about how he's doing at school, huh?" A hint of pride crept into his tone despite his best efforts not to boast.
"I know how he is doing in science," Bones specified. "He does not discuss his other subjects as often with my father or me."
"That's 'cause science is his favorite," Booth said, rolling his eyes, but grinning nonetheless.
Bones tried not to smile too widely at this news.
"He really is a very intelligent child, Booth," she said. "You should be proud."
"Believe me, I am," he stated firmly. "Speaking of family, how's Max these days?"
"He is doing well," Bones replied. "I think he enjoys acting as a science teacher here; he says that it allows him to 'mold' young minds, although that is a patently ridiculous turn of phrase." She paused, then asked in a manner too casual not to be practiced, "How are things going between you and Catherine?"
"They're great," Booth said, feeling as though his smile had become pasted on.
"In what types of social activities have you been engaging?" Bones asked. "Andrew and I have primarily gone on coffee dates, although we have also had lunch together, and gone to a few art galleries. He is quite interested in the old Dutch masters."
"Oh," Booth said. "I didn't know that."
"Yes, he is full of surprises."
"Well, uh, we've had lunch a couple of times. We're going bowling this afternoon."
"I imagine she will be impressed by your physical prowess," Bones commented dispassionately. "If memory serves, you are quite adept at that game. I believe you said that your mean was over two hundred."
"My… oh, you mean my average. You remember that?"
"Of course I do, Booth. I have an excellent memory."
"Still, that was what – four years ago? Pretty impressive."
Bones looked torn between pleasure and irritation at his words.
"And you won a fancy award named after some guy for a paper that you wrote," he continued.
"The Marshall H. Dixon Award," Bones concurred. "For my paper on George John Romanes and physiological selection."
"See? I remember stuff, too," Booth said.
"I am aware of that; it is one of the reasons why you are such a proficient agent," Bones said dismissively, as though she wasn't paying him a compliment. Shifting gears, she added, "Although I am appreciative of your keeping me company, you should go home to prepare for your outing."
"And leave you here by yourself?"
Bones rolled her eyes. "Hardly. As you are fully aware, Angela will be by soon to take her 'shift'." She paused, then added, "I am still irritated with the two of you for ganging up on me, by the way."
"It's for your own good," Booth told her unrepentantly.
"I'm not a child," Bones said. "I am perfectly capable of looking after myself."
Booth opened his mouth – whether to agree or to contest that point, he wasn't sure – when a rapping came at the door.
"Brennan?" Angela called, punctuating her question with another few knocks.
Booth let her in.
"I come bearing gifts," she said cheerfully.
And she certainly had. The second the artist reached the table, she eagerly dropped her bags on it with a thump.
"Angela…" Brennan remonstrated, "This really isn't necessary."
Shaking her head, Angela responded, "Maybe not. But it makes us – your friends – feel better to be able to take care of you."
Bones sighed in resignation, but Booth fancied that she looked a bit touched by the sentiment.
"I'm going to use your bathroom for just a sec," Angela said.
"You are aware of its location," Bones stated with a shrug.
The other woman nodded and headed down the hall.
When the sound of a door clicking shut was audible, Bones said, "I hope that you have an enjoyable time on your social excursion at the bowling rink this afternoon, Booth."
Half-smiling, Booth responded, "Alley. It's an alley, Bones, not a rink."
"The bowling alley, then," she corrected.
Somewhat awkwardly, he continued, "And, uh, thanks. Remember, if you need anything – and I do mean anything – give me a call. Don't let your pride get in the way, Bones."
"I'll be fine," Bones reiterated firmly, eyes boring into his.
Booth nodded reluctantly. "You and Angela have a nice girls' day, alright?"
As if on cue, Angela reappeared from the bathroom.
"Oh, we will, G-man, trust me," she said flirtatiously, a twinkle in her eye.
"Right then," Booth said, rubbing his hand together nervously, "You do that. I'm leaving."
And with those words, he had exited the apartment.
So why is it that hours later, he still can't get that scene out of his head?
Bones doesn't remember what she admitted, after all; nothing's changed between the two them. He should just put the whole incident out of his head and focus on Catherine: sweet, smart, funny Catherine. Y'know, that beautiful woman who's actually interested in him?
He's going to enjoy this date, damnit, and he's not going to feel guilty about it. He's not.