A/N: Sorry for the delay, just been too busy. This installment is inspired by the Yeti discussion in the Truth in the Myth.
Chapter 10: Questions and Answers
Booth chewed the end of his pencil and slanted his eyes to glance surrepticiously at the woman on the couch. Brennan had just grumbled under her breath for the tenth time in the past half hour and Booth didn't think she was even aware of it. She sat leaning back against the armrest, knees up, laptop propped against her thighs, but he hadn't heard typing for at least five minutes. Apparently this was the first test she'd taken in a while, possibly in her whole life, for which the answers were not obvious. No facts here, just thoughts and feelings.
He looked down at the question he'd just completed.
"What causes people to fall in love?"
Booth grinned when he thought of the answer that Bones would have written a few years ago. Something about there being no such thing as love and then going off on a long-winded discussion about pheromones and chemical attraction. She'd changed so much since then and, though Booth understood that she now acknowledged both the existence of something as unquantifiable as love as well as the fact that she had succumbed to it, he still didn't know how she would answer that question. To judge by all the mumbling, she wasn't sure what to say either.
He looked down at the paper on the table. To be honest, his answer to that question was not the one he would have written even a year ago. He'd been in love with Bones, but when she'd rejected him, he'd turned to Hannah. He'd thought he was in love with Hannah but knew now, in forming his answer to this question, that he'd fallen in love with her as part of the healing process. He'd been so sure of that love, but looking back, he knew that it had all happened too fast. And, in reality, the pace had accelerated to warp speed once he was around Bones again. Love with Hannah had become the antidote to love with Bones. But there was no antidote, because the love had never gone away. Would never go away.
Temperance once explained to me the concept of soulmates, something about a single being with four arms and four legs being split in two and then searching for its other half. Love is when you find that other half, someone who is not the same as you, but who complements you with the pieces that you may not have, even if you don't always appreciate the differences. That is not to say that Temperance is the only person I have ever loved. Looking back now at my previous relationships, I see that I loved others because they filled a need in me that I had at that time. The difference between those loves and the one I have for Temperance is that this love somehow fills all the needs that I have and, I believe, will be able to fill all of the needs that I ever will have.
At the feel of an arm snaking over his shoulder, the press of a cheek against his, Booth jumped in surprise. A mere moment ago, Bones had been fidgeting on the couch. Now she was pressed up against his back and running a hand down his chest. In one swift motion, Booth flipped his questionnaire over and then reached up with his right hand to stop the progress of her exploring fingers.
He'd first noticed the change during the cab ride to her apartment. He didn't know if it was their engagement, the fact that he now knew about the pregancy or perhaps just the acknowledgement that they'd had sex, but Bones was suddenly exhibiting a freedom where Booth's person was concerned that she'd never shown before. In the cab, when she'd put her hand on his thigh, he'd had to suck in his breath to keep from moaning out loud. His body's reaction had been so acute, he'd recited the Phillies line-up to himself three times in order to avoid complete humiliation. Now, with her touch on his chest, the smell of her so close, his body once again sprang to attention.
One week, he reminded himself, I just have to make it through one week.
"Bones," he said through suddenly gritted teeth, "what are you doing off the couch? You are supposed to be resting, doctor's orders."
"I'm fine Booth. I just needed a break." When she realized that Booth was not going to let her hand continue its progress, she stood up straight behind him, but didn't make any move to reclaim her seat.
A bit surprised (and maybe a little disappointed) that she'd give up on the seduction angle so easily, Booth turned his head and looked up at her with a knowing grin. "You were trying to look at my answers, weren't you?"
"This test is ridiculous," she huffed to avoid answering. "Some of the questions are inane, like 'Who will acquire whose last name, or will you keep your last names, or will you jointly adopt a new name?' - of course we'll keep our own names - but others don't even seem relevant to me." She glanced down at Booth's overturned sheets as if hoping she'd suddenly developed x-ray vision. "Why, for example, does it matter whether I am 'generally polite and courteous to others'?"
Booth smiled sympathetically. He'd realized when he'd first read that question that Brennan's honesty would compel her to answer it without subterfuge, and had understood that she might not like what she had to write.
"Perhaps you didn't get to the next question where it asks 'Are these attributes important to a smooth-running marriage and family?' which does tie it back to the whole marriage issue."
He patted her hand where it lay immobile on his chest. "I think you generally respond as the situation demands, perhaps a bit more bluntly than others might, but those who know you understand that you have the best intentions. And we all know that you would do anything for us, which is really the most important thing. Why don't you go sit back down and write something like that? With the compressed schedule we are working with here, we need to get this to the good Reverend by tomorrow afternoon so that he is ready to talk to us tomorrow night."
Appeased, Brennan returned to the couch.
Booth exhaled in relief. This new proximity - he was committed to staying close for the next few days and making sure that Brennan followed the doctor's orders to rest - was already taking its toll on him. Today was Saturday and the wedding was tentatively scheduled for the following Sunday, assuming they could get all the paperwork done in time. He wondered what the record might be for the number of cold showers taken in a week? Did Ripley have a statistic on that?
When, within a minute or so the exasperated mumbling started up again from the direction of the couch, Booth knew it was safe to flip over his questionnaire and get back to work.
As they entered the room, the Reverend beckoned the couple to sit in two guest chairs. The meeting room in the church was very pleasant, carpeted with a large oriental rug and containing a few groupings of comfortable seating, clearly designed to inspire conversation among whoever sat there.
"Can I get you any refreshments, Dr. Brennan? Agent Booth?"
When his visitors declined, he seated himself in a third chair across from them, with a small round coffee table in between on which he placed the stack of papers he carried.
Was it Booth's imagination, or was the good Reverend avoiding eye contact with them? That would seem like a bad sign to Booth, but the agent also had the sense that the clergyman was very amused and trying not to show it. Booth glanced at Brennan, who was merely glancing expectantly at the man across from her. She apparently didn't notice anything amiss.
"So," Brennan began, "did we pass?"
"Bones, you know it's not that kind of a test." Booth slid his chair closer to his partner and put a hand on her arm. Fortunately, he was sitting to her left side, so he actually felt warm skin under his hand rather than a cold cast. As Brennan was apparently free to touch him at will - much to Booth's simultaneous pleasure and chagrin - Booth had decided to reciprocate with gusto. He took every opportunity to hold her hand or put an arm around her shoulders and, judging by the way Bones squeezed his fingers or leaned into him, she didn't mind a bit.
"Surely the Reverend understands the intention of my question, Booth. He is assessing our compatibility and the prognosis for our marriage. I am merely inquiring as to whether he thinks our responses were adequate. As I noted in the margins, a few of the questions were ambiguous or wholly irrelevant-"
Booth sank lower into his chair and covered his eyes with his free hand. No wonder the Reverend couldn't look at them. "You noted in the margins, Bones!" Booth hissed. "What in the world is the Reverend supposed to think if, instead of answering, you mark up his questionnaire?"
Brennan turned in her seat to cast her partner a stern look. "I didn't mark up his questionnaire Booth, I merely made a few constructive suggestions -"
"I hope I won't have to separate you two. That would be a first for me...well the first time before a session has even started. Sometimes, once our conversations get going things can of course get a bit heated." He looked at his two visitors and smiled broadly. "Not that I anticipate anything like that to happen here. You two seem to...well...how should I put this..." Seemingly at a loss for words, the Reverend once again shifted his eyes away from his guests and glanced at the papers he had placed on the table in front of him.
Booth and Brennan leaned forward in their seats, waiting for the clergyman to complete his thought. Booth didn't think that Brennan realized that the fingers of her casted arm were now firmly gripping his arm above where he held her.
"Actually, I think Agent Booth said it best in one of his answers." He shuffled through the papers and pulled out one that had a red flag attached to it. "And I quote - Love is when you find that other half, someone who is not the same as you, but who complements you with the pieces that you may not have, even if you don't always appreciate the differences." He looked up again and smiled. "I must confess, I don't think I have ever read two questionnaires whose answers differ in so many respects. I'll go through a few of the answers with you in a moment. But I must say, that emerging through it all, is something I first noticed when I visited you in the hospital, Dr. Brennan. You both work very hard to understand and respect the other's opinion, even when you don't agree with it at all. And, as Agent Booth said, you truly complement each other by providing that other piece, that contrary view. That I find truly remarkable."
In unison, the partners leaned back in their chairs, relief evident. Brennan turned and flashed a broad satisfied grin at Booth.
"I told you I've never failed a test!"
Laughing, Booth rolled his eyes and squeezed Brennan's arm. At that moment, all of his doubts turned to certainty. This crazy, rollercoaster relationship was really going to work out.
Yes, it was truly remarkable.