A kind reviewer asked for the first draft that I mentioned. Here it is, in all its angsty glory. Thanks for the interest! Let me know if you liked this version better. :)
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They were eating dinner together at the diner, in the middle of a case, both lost in their own thoughts when he said it.
"Bones, do you ever think about the future?" Booth asked, breaking the pleasant silence between them.
"The future? Yes, I suppose occasionally I do." She answered without really thinking about it, her mind still deep in God knows what, bones or slime or something else particularly befuddling.
"What do you see?" he asked.
"Well, I can't see the future, Booth. No one can."
"I don't mean- no, Bones, I just meant…do you ever imagine what your life will be like in years to come?"
"Well, I don't foresee it ever being too much different from how it is now. I mean, I'm at a point in my life where most things are pretty constant. I am quite sure I will keep working at the Jeffersonian, I will keep writing books… I don't know how drastically my life could change from this point. Of course, something life-altering could happen to me, something I don't expect." she shrugged and sipped her coffee. "Why?"
"Oh, I dunno. It's just been on my mind, with Parker's birthday coming up…time flies, doesn't it?"
"No, it doesn't, actually-" she started.
"It's an expression, Bones." He said, half exasperated, half amused. "Just… an expression." He shook his head. He had never met someone so literal.
"Why does Parker having a birthday make you think about the future?" She asked uncertainly, unsure of the connection.
"It's just… well, he's getting older. And so am I. And I just wonder what my life will look like in five years, or ten, or twenty." he explained.
"Oh… Parker getting older makes you feel old? Like you don't have very much time left alive? Perhaps you're realizing that your life could be half over and you aren't sure if you've accom-"
"Bones, seriously! Yes, that's what I'm thinking. You don't have to put it into such…harsh terms." he shook his head and continued playing with the salt and pepper shakers on the counter.
"Booth, why are you getting so upset? It's perfectly natural-"
"It's fine, Bones. I'm not upset. Let's just forget I said anything, OK?" He cut her off sharply.
She looked taken aback, and for just a moment he saw a tiny flash of hurt on her face before she quickly recovered and looked down at her food, away from him. He didn't know why he reacted like that, with disproportional anger.
She didn't see her future changing at all? She thought she'd stay this way, alone, her life wrapped up in her bones and her fellow squints and her books? Why couldn't she see that there was more to life? He knew the answer, of course, she'd told him so many times. She didn't believe in love, she believed in biological urges and the release of chemicals in the brain and blah blah blah… he knew this.
"What do you think your future will look like?" she tentatively interrupted his silent fuming. She sounded so innocent, so small, like she had no idea that she was slowly killing him. Which, he reasoned, she didn't. It was hard to stay mad at her long.
"Uh… I don't know." was all he said.
"Oh." she took another bite of food. He knew that she knew he was agitated, and he felt bad.
"Listen, Bones, I'm sorry. I'm not mad, or upset, or anything. I'm just…stressed about the case." A complete lie.
"I don't think that's true." she said quietly.
"It's just… the future… I don't know. But I see…" he trailed off. What did he see?
He knew what he'd like to see. He could never say it to her, never risk what they had as partners, and friends, but he saw so much more.
He could see himself surprising her one day, somewhere completely unexpected, by pushing her against a wall and kissing her, without hesitation or doubt, until she kissed him back just as fiercely.
He could see her arguing with him, giving him perfectly good reasons why it wasn't a good idea for them to be a couple, and him combating her every argument with a kiss until she stopped thinking and just let herself feel.
He could see long nights, beautifully slow Sunday mornings, sly grins over the lab tables, her interrupting his bath only to join him in the tub, dancing under the stars to no music, introducing her to his family, making her soup when she was sick, kissing her in the snow…
He could see her toothbrush, which was yellow, in his bathroom next to his own.
He could see them arguing about who should move in with whom, eventually asking Angela or Sweets, who would give them the 50% closet space rule.
He could see them picking out a Christmas tree together, him searching for the biggest one he could find, her wanting one with evenly spaced branches and a modest height, with needles that didn't fall out when you shook it.
He could see her wooing Parker with gifts and outings, unnecessarily, of course, until she was sure he would accept her as his dad's girlfriend.
He could see cuddling on the couch watching a movie…or not watching it at all. He had to suppress a grin.
He could see himself introducing her to people not as his partner, but as his girlfriend, and eventually his wife.
He could see pictures of them laughing and hugging, on a beach or skiing or at a party, framed on his desk.
He could see them forty or fifty years from now, unimaginably old, holding hands and grinning like the teenagers they still were at heart.
He could see them riding in the car, blasting a contagiously upbeat song, singing at the top of their lungs, windows down, his hand on her knee, smiling and laughing together.
He could see them going on vacations to places she would have at one time insisted were over commercialized and not worth seeing, but now she enjoyed with childlike excitement.
He could see her making them dinner, him sneaking up behind her and wrapping his arms around her, like he always longed to do but never did.
He could just picture Angela's shocked but pleased face when he kissed her in the lab, right in front of everyone, not caring about anything but the way she felt in his arms.
He could see a day when he was allowed to glare at and/or threaten any man who look at her with interest, and she would not be able to give him the usual disapproving look she saved for such occasions.
He could see officially escorting her to the Jeffersonian's many social functions, him in his black tux and her in some amazing dress, his only relief coming from the fact that he knows he can take it off of her at the end of the night.
He could see walking places with her, his arm draped possessively around her like so many times before, the only difference between those times and now being that he never had to let go.
He could see himself getting on one knee in front of her, maybe in a beautiful foreign city or perhaps even on the steps of the Jeffersonian, asking her to throw away her reason and rationality and marry him in a church, with their beaming friends standing next to them.
He could see her gorgeous smile as he slipped a ring onto her finger and forever claimed her as his.
He could see her, eight months pregnant but still sexier than ever, waddling around, having awkward cravings he was only too happy to oblige.
He could see taking her to the fair, probably over her arguments that it was silly, making her ride goofy rides, eat bright blue cotton candy, and then winning her the best stuffed lizard at the rifle shooting booth.
He could see them fighting about something inconsequential, and then having amazing makeup sex later (after he realized that he was probably wrong, anyways).
He could see them picking out furniture, and decorations, and having silly squabbles about what color shower curtain to purchase.
He chuckled as he thought of her arguing with their four-year-old son in the grocery store, completely befuddled as to why children didn't understand pure logic.
He could see giving his heart away to a sweet, perfect little girl with her mother's eyes and stubborn demeanor.
He could see them together, watching their babies score their first goal in soccer, graduate high school, and get married.
He could see them waiting anxiously in the hospital to meet their first grandchild, more proud than they'd ever been.
He could see them in an old house, sitting around a fireplace, surrounded by their children and grandchildren, hearts overflowing with contentment at the beautiful life they'd built together.
"I see you in my future, Booth." she stated suddenly, interrupting his reverie.
"I- what?" he sputtered. What did she just say?
"Well, I know that we'll keep working on cases together, because we do make quite an effective team." she said, between bites of food.
He sighed, and his shoulders sagged. He hoped she didn't notice."Of course. That's true, we make a good team." he gave her a half smile and then looked back down at the salt shaker.
"But even if something happened that prevented us from working together…" she said slowly, almost hesitantly.
He looked up at her hopefully.
"…we'd still be friends." she finished.
"Yes, we would." he said, disappointed again.
Booth let the subject drop after that, knowing it was useless.
Later that night, he thought about their conversation. He knew that she considered him a friend- albeit a close one- and that was it, but it still hurt. Somewhere along the line, he had fallen in love with her, and for some reason he just couldn't shake it. He marveled at what he had become: someone who was hopelessly smitten with a woman had no chance with, hoping to "shake" it. Come on, Seeley, he told himself. Be a man.
But that was easier said than done, and he knew it. How could he risk their partnership? He thrived on their interactions, their closeness, and he couldn't gamble it away. Perhaps a younger version of himself would be able to, in fact, he knew that was true. A ten year-younger Seeley Booth would easily be able to roll the dice, put it all out there, tell the girl how he felt. But he was wiser, more cautious, less of a risk-taker. And, he realized, he cared more than younger Seeley ever could have. In most ways, this was good, at least he believed so. He had outgrown his destructive ways, and for that he was grateful. He had his life in order, and doing something crazy and unpredictable was exactly what he didn't need.
Besides, he rationalized, Bones certainly didn't need it either. He felt certain that she wouldn't appreciate some big gesture of affection from him. She had what she needed in life, her career, her books, her friends…she didn't need him. This hurt, too, but he knew it was true. Telling her how he felt, hoping for more, would only cause strain. Hell, it could even break up their partnership- conflict of interest, or something equally ridiculous.
No, he knew he was doing the right thing. It was oxymoronic, but he loved her too much to tell her what she meant to him. He reflected on the irony of this sadly. As long as he could be close to her, he decided, he would be alright.
The what ifs in his mind niggled at him, though. What if she reciprocated? What if they could have something? What if…
He glanced at the phone. He could pick it up, so easily. Call her, wake her up, hear that voice… his keys were in their usual place next to the door. Studying them, he thought of another set of circumstances. Getting into his car, driving swiftly to her apartment across town. Going up the stairs, knocking on her door, facing her, talking to her.
But he couldn't bring himself to do it. The potential for a negative outcome far exceeded his hope of a good one. He made up his mind, resolved. He would learn to push those feelings down. He would just…try to let it go. He was almost positive this wasn't possible, but that wouldn't stop him from trying. He would act normal around her, stop admiring her, stop letting his mind wander to those provocative possibilities, stop dreaming about holding her in his arms. Yes, he decided. It was finished.