After Brennan fell asleep, Booth lay awake for a long time. He turned to look at Brennan, curled on her side with her hands tucked beneath her cheek, and reflected on the past 36 hours. Two days ago he had been hopelessly in love with her in every sense of the word: he was in her thrall and he believed that there was no chance of her ever accepting or returning that love. But now…
Well, he knew she hadn't actually said the word "love," but the way she looked at him and touched him, even the way she had opened up to him, were all ways of loving. So far, things had been surprisingly…easy.
He felt like they were existing is some kind of bubble that separated this from the outside world, from their work. Despite the strain they were all feeling from Taffet's trial—or maybe because of it—the happiness he and Brennan had found in one another away from work felt magnified somehow. And unreal.
He reflected on the last thing he'd said to her last night: "I was afraid before, but I'm not anymore. I trust you." It was true, he did trust her not to run away. He believed that she was in this, and that she would talk to him if she were scared or overwhelmed or having doubts.
But he was still afraid.
Afraid that once everyone knew it might change their status as work. Will the FBI still let us work together? If not, will she be satisfied if she has to stay in the lab?
Afraid that when they got through the "honeymoon" phase, and had to reconcile their very different world views that things would fall apart. Stop being such a pessimist. You both came into this with your eyes open. You knew about all of those differences before. You can figure this out.
Afraid that he might wake up and find that it had all been a dream. Again.
oOo
Brennan woke to the sound of a thunderous crash and Booth swearing loudly. She sat up in bed a rubbed her eyes. Through the bedroom door she saw a tray, two glasses of orange juice, dishes, eggs, and fruit spilled across the floor.
He looked up at her with chagrin. "Mmmm…sorry, Bones. I was trying to surprise you with breakfast in bed," he said sheepishly.
She smiled. "I'm not sure how you excelled at being a sniper, Booth, if you are unable even to sneak into your own bedroom," she teased him.
"Well, what can I say? Thinking of you in my bed? Very distracting. I'll just clean this up and…see if I've got any more food in the kitchen. It's been a while since I went to the grocery store. You don't by any chance eat Pop-Tarts, do you?" he asked hopefully.
She smiled at him, but didn't answer as she went into the bathroom. When she emerged from the shower, she found the living room floor clean, a pile of dirty dishes in the sink, and a note that Booth would be right back.
She was loading the dishwasher when Booth returned with pastries and fresh fruit from the bakery down the street.
"Bo-ones! I did not leave those for you to do!"
"Booth, you never objected to me helping clean up after meals before we began a sexual relationship."
"Romantic relationship. Not sexual. Romantic. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad that's one aspect of what we're doing now, but sex? Is not the defining characteristic."
He put down the bag of food, removed her hands from the sink and dried them. "And this is not you cleaning up after a meal. This is you cleaning up my failed romantic gesture. Come sit with me and have a pastry. I got chocolate," he finished in a sing-song voice.
"Chocolate pastries for breakfast? How do you manage to maintain your physique with that kind of diet?"
"Well, I don't have pastries for breakfast every day, but since I dumped all of the food in the house on the floor, we'll have to make do for today."
She silently regarded her pastry for a moment and then asked, "What would you consider to be the defining characteristic of our relationship?"
Booth looked at her in surprise, but her eyes were fixed on her food. In a moment of impulsivity that first night they were together, he'd blurted out that he loved her. He had carefully avoided saying it again, because he was trying to slow things down a little. Give her time to adjust. Riiiight. By jumping into her bed seconds after confessing your love. What the hell do you tell her now? How much is too much?
When he didn't answer after several seconds, Brennan looked up at him. He seemed panicked.
When she finally met his eyes, he could see that she looked worried, and he realized that he'd been completely silent for what felt like an eternity since she'd spoken.
Honesty is the best policy, he decided. He cleared his throat. "Love."
She continued to regard him steadily. She was surprised at the effect hearing that word from his lips had on her. She felt flushed and nervous and unutterably happy.
After a moment she asked, "What time do you have to be in court?"
He wasn't sure what to make of the fact that she changed the subject so abruptly, and her expression gave nothing away.
"Oh. Ummm…I testify at 10:30, but Caroline wants me to meet her at the Hoover at 9:00 to go over everything one more time. I need to leave in," he glanced at his phone, "forty-five minutes."
She stood up and took his hand. "I'm not really hungry any more," she said as she led him to the bedroom.
When she pushed him onto the bed and climbed on top of him he captured her hands with on of his own and held them to his chest. "Bones, wait…"
"I'd rather not."
She began rubbing against him, and despite the fact that he was afraid that this was just an attempt to avoid talking about them, his body was responding to her against his will.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then rolled over so that he was on top of her. "Bones, wait—We need to-This can't be just-" She had hooked her ankles together behind his back and the way she was writhing underneath him was making it very difficult for him to stay focused, despite the fact that they were still clothed.
Her fingers lifted the hem of his t-shirt and she started running her hands all over his skin. When she lifted up and kissed him, he finally came to his senses. He unhooked her legs, stood up, and crossed the room.
When he turned to face her, she looked hurt. "Booth, I…what's wrong?"
He tried to calm his breathing, and rein in his confusion. She said she was in this. Is this just sex to her after all? He thought about the conversations they'd had in bed the last two nights, lying tangled together, naked and sweaty. No, you don't actually believe that. So what the hell is going on here? Why did she immediately change the subject the second you said the word love?
"I just need to—" he paused, searching for the right words, "Bones, what is this? If you don't want to talk about what's going on between us, then why did you ask? This isn't-" he closed his eyes and gulped a breath. "This can't just be sex," he croaked.
Whereas a moment ago she'd been confused and a little hurt at his refusal of her advances, she suddenly realized how their exchange over the last few minutes looked to him. He thinks I'm avoiding the subject.
She sat up and her face softened, "Booth…what you said before…I'm not very skilled at expressing my emotions verbally. I'm not…this isn't avoidance. I feel…" she looked down at her hands, "I feel the same way. I thought perhaps I could show you." She cursed herself for stumbling over the words. Normally she was so articulate, but this was unfamiliar ground, and it was too important. She looked up at him again. "I can understand why it's hard for you to trust me in this matter, but I promise you, Booth, I know what we're doing. I am aware of the ramifications of my choices. You don't have to be careful with your words. Just be honest with me."
He looked at her, dumbfounded. God, you are an idiot, he berated himself. Relax. Stop second-guessing everything.
And then he pounced.
oOo
"Oh, God," Booth said as he kissed Brennan again. "I really wish I could just stay here in bed with you, but I'm barely going to make it on time as it is." He untangled their limbs and began pulling out clothes: boxers, socks, shirt, suit, tie.
"Booth?"
"Mmmmm?" he asked distractedly as he buttoned his shirt.
"I'd like a clarification."
"About what?"
"You said that the fact that we're having sex is not the defining characteristic in our relationship now."
"And I stand by that."
"But the only change in our behavior is that we are now engaging in sex. Everything else seems…unchanged."
He stopped halfway through putting on his belt. "Is that a bad thing?"
"No, of course not. But I fail to see how you can argue that sex is not what defines the change in our relationship."
He sighed and tied his tie. She stood up and smoothed it.
He put his hands on her shoulders and looked her in the eye. "Sex is the most obvious change in our relationship, but not the most important. Sex is just one way of connecting. I think the real issue is that what we had before was so much more than we ever admitted, not that what we have now is less."
She frowned slightly, and then responded, "Perhaps. I will give your position consideration and we can discuss this further tonight."
He pulled on his coat and kissed her softly.
She looked down and said in a quiet voice, "This is the first time I can ever remember dreading going to the lab." She raised her eyes. "What if she wins?"
"I don't know, Bones." He was torn between wanting to comfort her and the fact that he was already running late.
Brennan glanced at the clock and said, "I'm okay, Booth. I'll see you at lunch?" She steered him towards the front door.
"Yeah, I'll give you a call when I finish in court. Hey." He made eye contact. "We'll get through this, whatever happens."
One more kiss and he was out the door. As it closed behind him, she sighed and hugged herself, envying his ability to be so optimistic.