Hey there all! Previously, Booth and Brennan were on their date: a dinner cruise on the Potomac River. I really struggled with this chapter so I hope you enjoy it. I am finding it difficult to not get overly depressed with how the show is going at the moment and it's really affecting my ability to write. I am sure that most fanfickers are feeling the same way. let me know...
I don't own Bones.
"I still don't understand, Booth. Atomic, by definition is microscopic and minuscule. So, whilst you are saying that an 'atomic wedge' is a severe version of a regular wedge whereby the underwear is pulled over the victim's head, you are, in effect contradicting yourself."
"It's wedgy, Bones and not exactly the most appropriate thing to be discussing over a plate of meatballs."
"You brought it up..." She pointed out over a sip of her champagne glass. "and I am eating nut roast, not meatballs."
Booth choked slightly on his champagne. "I rest my case."
"This really was a wonderful idea, Booth. The Lincoln Memorial is quite a spectacular piece of architecture but, from this angle over the water and, with the illumination of artificial lighting, it has quite a... sentimental effect."
The vessel itself was designed specifically to travel beneath the historical bridges spanning the Potomac and so, the roof was almost entirely made of glass panelling giving the pair a detailed view of the nation's four greatest monuments from their warmly lit table.
"The view is more than breathtaking." Brennan recognised his double entendre and his prurient tone. Though, something about the complete reverence in his stare caught her a little too deeply and she moved to lighten the mood.
"The... Lincoln memorial has 36 Doric columns, one for each state at the time of Lincoln's death."
"Hmm?" he could see she was wriggling uncomfortably under his stare. This was a well practiced Brennan backtrack and he indulged her by diverting his gaze to his meal.
Brennan continued, "Ironically, Lincoln's secretary was named Kennedy." His eyebrows rose. Was she for real?
"Kennedy's secretary was named Lincoln."
She paused the history lesson for a sip, studying his reaction, "Lincoln was shot at the theatre named 'Ford'.
Kennedy was shot in a car called 'Lincoln' made by 'Ford'."
"Well what do ya know, huh?"
"Quite a great deal more though, due to your sensitivity to the topic I will leave it at that and endeavour to divert the subject to more date related themes."
"Such as..."
"Well, I was hoping you could draw upon your recent experience with dating to properly select appropriate things to discuss. I am a little out of practice."
"If I didn't know you so well, Bones, I'd think you were being sarcastic." He was smiling though it didn't quite reach his eyes.
"I don't... employ sarcasm, Booth. It simply... stands to reason that you would be more knowledgeable about the topics of discussion in a serious romantic relationship as you have more experience in the area, what, with Hannah and all."
"Hmm." Hannah. He placed his knife and fork down on his plate and paused to contemplate his next words. Coming to a decision, Booth reached across the table and took her hand, "Dance with me."
It wasn't a question. He knew he couldn't say what he had to say with him being in the spotlight of her scrutinizing gaze from across the table. He needed to be holding her – so she couldn't run, so he could have the reassurance of her touch, her smell.
He briefly wondered whether it was appropriate addressing it on their date but figured she was stuck with him for at least the next two hours so he needn't worry about her trying to escape. Surely she wouldn't jump overboard.
Truth was – he didn't know quite what to say. Whatever he said – it would cause him great shame in the presence of the one adult whose opinion mattered the most. She thought him either completely wrong or a liar.
The way he saw it, Bones would see her belief in the ephemeral nature of love as proven by his ability to move on to Hannah so soon after loving Bones. Or, if he wasn't in love with Hannah then he was just using her for sex. Thus, making him a hypocrite after preaching to Brennan about making love and breaking laws of the science she believes so firmly in.
Booth didn't know what was worse. He knew the truth but there was that small issue of pride. Well, large issue of pride. Either way, it had to be said. The guilt and shame had eaten at him all throughout his relationship with Hannah. He was not a cheating man yet, it had most certainly felt that way.
Booth drew Brennan close, wrapping her in the strength of his arms. They fell into easy synchronicity with the smooth jazz of the band and took a moment to simply breathe the other in.
"I'm sorry, Temperance." The sincerity in his voice caused a flush to radiate though her chest.
"As far as I am aware, Booth, you have nothing to be sorry for."
"I do. I know you're probably thinking that you were right about love. That it's, you know, chemical reactions and all that stuff. You're thinking that I proved, by being with Hannah that it's temporary; I tell you that I am in love with you and then I go and fall in love with someone else." Immediately he felt her tense and try to put distance between them.
"Booth, you're wrong... on both accounts."
Trying to make eye contact, he urged her to explain, "How?"
"First of all, you never told me you were in love with me."
"Well, I... it kinda goes without saying, Bones."
"No... it doesn't, Booth. You know that, by nature I rely upon honesty and clear verbal communication to be able to form opinions on matters. I do not work with conjecture. I have never been able to rely on my ability to speculate based upon body language and unspoken interaction as you have. I find it confusing and intangible."
Brennan continued quieter, almost with a tinge of embarrassment, "I have found in my life that when people offer 40 or 50 years – they are merely making fun of me. Though I did not impute such motives upon you that night – it simply caught me off guard and, before I had a chance to calculate an appropriate opinion and adjust my reaction - you had told me that you were going to move on."
She withdrew her arms from him and looked into his imploring eyes, "I am feeling a little warm, Booth... I would like to go outside now."
Booth caught up with her on the deck, "Hey... hey, Bones. I'm sorry." He turned her around so that she was leaning up against the rail and cupped her face with is hand, "I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am. I always thought it was that I pushed too soon."
"Booth, it was five years. Five years of you... drawing lines and telling me that you can't get involved with colleagues and the patronising - everything happens eventually, Bones."
He looked up to the sky in a silent prayer of help, "I'm sorry, Bones! I was falling for you so hard and fast it scared the crap outa me, ok? I guess I was saying all that stuff to try and convince myself. Anyway, you're not exactly a saint in all of this."
She looked at him like he has just stated that one plus one equals window, "Of course I am not a saint, Booth, what are you saying?"
"Well, you say that you loved me back then and yet – you still had other men." He couldn't even bring himself to say S.E.X.
"What was I supposed to do Booth? I have needs." She looked him up and down appraisingly, "It appears we both do. And, besides, I came to realise long before I met you that I was not going to deny myself pleasure for something that was a statistical improbability."
"What do you mean statistical improbability?"
"We've had this discussion before. You held great stature in your community as a youth and as an adult. You were... are, a typical alpha male – popular, held in high esteem amongst your peers and from a sexual standpoint – you are confident and desirable. You have told me many times of your sexual conquests. I, on the other hand was not revered amongst my associates. A sexual partnership between us would have been anomalous as I have said before. I believe there is an aphorism that states – if it seems too good to be true; it often is."
She tugged gently on his tie and smiled shyly through her lashes, "Though... I am quite glad... in this instance that the adage is incorrect."
Booth laughed with genuine relief before drawing her mouth to his, "Oh, ho ho, so am I baby, so am I."
"Booth..." she mumbled with reprimand against his lips.
He chuckled into their kiss, "Mmm... sorry, Bones... slipped out."
Booth indulged in some unspoken expressions of affection. He kissed his date until she all but melted into his arms. The fresh breeze off the water was cool and invigorating and proved an arousing contrast to the heat of their tryst.
Reluctantly Booth reclaimed his lips, he needed to get things clear between them, "So... I was wrong on both accounts?"
"I'm sorry. I don't remember what I said that in reference to." Brennan eyes were lidded and she was clearly very affected by his ministrations.
So much so that he had to chuckle, "I ah... something about me proving your belief that love is temporary."
She immediately switched to squint mode, "Oh, yes. You, most definitely did not prove to me that love is temporary. In fact, you did the complete opposite."
He looked confused, "Okaaay."
"I went to Maluku. I thought that by having no contact with you that my feelings would dissipate. I was incorrect. In fact, the opposite occurred. It was quite unnerving but it simply served to prove your belief that love can be a permanent emotion – even if it is simply a release of chemicals within the body. The effects of those chemicals cannot be denied no matter how one tries to ignore it."
"Bones, I think in different ways, we were trying to do the same thing."
"How is that?"
"You were using time and space to try and move on and I was using... well, I used... Hannah." He shook his head, "Makes me look like a real ass, huh?"
"If by 'ass' you mean unthoughtful, uncaring and narcissistic then, yes. You are an ass. Though, by definition, that would make me one too and so, our cosmic balance sheet is even."
With the most adoring look that one could have after being labelled as narcissistic, he framed her face in his hand and kissed her with a tenderness that could only be described as love.
"I love you Temperance," he tucked a lock of windswept hair behind her ear, "it's always been you."
She smiled, "That sentiment is reciprocated one hundred percent."
"Now come and have dessert with me"
Brennan's throaty laugh was thick with innuendo, "Oh, that is, most certainly sexual code!"
His hearty laugh carried across the water into the night as the lovers ate, drank and danced until the moon was well and truly amidst the throws of his shift; guilt absolved, confidences bolstered and love acknowledged and shared with no hesitation or doubt.
Drop me a line! Take care!
