What I Wish I Could've Said

Rated: T

Disclaimer: I own nothing... Obviously. Just playing in someone else's sandbox for a bit.

Summary: Hindsight is always 20/20. Everyone has a single moment that they wish they could have said something better than what they actually did. A completely random series of what-if vignettes.

Ch 25: That Time B&B Saw Angela Rant

At first, it had been incredibly difficult getting used to certain aspects of being back in D.C.—having people that cared about her and wanted to know what she was thinking about non-scientific things was perhaps the most difficult adjustment she was having to make.

Okay, Brennan thought to herself as she chatted with Angela about their respective time a part. Maybe that's not exactly true. I've been back for three days, and I think the most difficult thing to which I'm going to have to adapt is the fact is that nothing, and I mean absolutely *nothing* is like I left it. Everything's changed. But, is that really so surprising? I mean, I changed. I've changed so much, and now—well, things have changed, and things didn't go like I planned, but I'll deal with the change. I'm an organism just like anything else. I've changed, I've evolved, and I'll do what I need to get to where I need to go—even if I never expected things to turn out quite like this…

Watching her friend only half pay attention to their conversation, Angela couldn't help herself as she abruptly asked, "Did you think about Booth at all when you were away?"

At Angela's question, and the sudden unexpected use of her partner's name, Brennan's full attention was drawn from her inner musings and back to reality. She stared at Angela for a minute, her gaze hard, but uncertain. Why would you ask me that, Ange? Of course I thought about him. How could you think that I wouldn't? He's spent the majority of the last six years as a major part of most days of my life—more so than my father, my brother, my friends, and—even though I'd probably never admit it—my work. Of course, I thought about him more than anyone else, more than anything else. Every time I was alone, the only thing I could think about was him—how he looked, the sound of his voice, his smell, the way he made me feel when he merely smiled at me—and I spent a lot of time alone, Ange…probably too much time. So, does that tell you how much time I spent thinking about Booth?

Knowing she wasn't ready to tell Angela all of that quite yet, taking a breath, Brennan finally nodded at her best friend. She decided that a version of the truth was better than nothing and so began to talk slowly. "Yes, I did—" Angela looked at her happy expectation, and for some reason, although she wasn't quite certain why, Brennan couldn't help herself as she added softly, "A few times I actually… dreamed about him."

I dreamed about him almost every night, Ange. But, I think you knew that'd happen when I left seven months ago, didn't you? This is what you warned me about—hell, this is what he warned me about that night, wasn't it? I could run thousands of miles away from him, but never how I feel about him because that's with me always. And, I've carried that like a loadstone these many months…and now, now what do I do about it? What can I do about it? I feel like my feelings are an albatross hanging around my neck choking me into futile submission.

Angela, still watching Brennan struggle with her thoughts—or, more appropriately, her feelings—tried to gently prod her friend. "Oh, well, there you go! Dreams are very meaningful."

You have no idea, Brennan thought sadly. Sometimes, I think I liked my dreams more than when I was actually awake—and, I don't mean that because of some of the erotic dreams I frequently had about him—although, I must admit, that some of those were quite satisfying in their explicitness. But, what's the point in dwelling on that? It's too late, and the sooner I let that go—the sooner I let him go—the easier it'll be for everyone involved, myself most of all.

Shaking her head slowly, her decision to let Booth go now made, Brennan said, "I dreamed about the work we do; I dreamed about catching murderers and getting justice for… people who were killed. What does that mean?"

Sadly, Angela shook her head at her friend. "It means you're going to die loveless and alone."

"Now, why do you have to tell her that, Angela?" a new voice interrupted the pair. Angela looked up as Booth walked to where the pair sat and couldn't help it as her eyes narrowed at the interruption. "You know she'll take that too literally. Then, we'll have to hear some squinty explanation as to why it's an anthropological inevitability that people are better off unattached and unencumbered, blah, blah, blah." He stopped and looked at the graphic artist as he smiled and added, "And, since we both know that that's a load of crap, you're kinda hurting the case I've been making for years for Bones to see the light—"

"My visual acuity is quite prefect, Booth," Brennan said, a bit testy at his sudden appearance.

Sighing, Angela felt a flush of frustration as the conversation was not going on as she had anticipated it. Pointing at the FBI agent, Angela said, "Ahh, Booth, your ears must've been burning. We were just talking about you."

"Oh?" Booth said, sitting up straighter in his chair. "You two telling tales behind my back again? Whatever it was, I didn't do it."

Brennan flushed a bit at his words and did her best to shoot Angela a look of warning. However, her hormones getting the better of her, Angela shook her head.

"That's not what I heard, G-man. I heard you did it, and by it, I mean a 'her'. I heard you came back with a little souvenir from Afghanistan?" Angela asked quite bluntly It took a minute for Booth to know what she was talking about, and so Angela took pity on him as she clarified, at almost the exact time Booth flushed as he realized to whom she was referring. "I heard the rumor that you started playing with Barbie dolls again while you were gone," Angela had said.

Ignoring the slight jib at his girlfriend, Booth forced away his nature inclination to be embarrassed and smiled as he said, "Oh, yeah. Hannah." He then turned to Brennan and said, "That didn't take long—what'd you do, call her as soon as you left the Mall?"

Brennan flushed a deeper red as she said, "I had my reasons."

"Yeah, and now I've got mine," she stood up from the table and pointed at the two of them. "You're gonna have to forgive me because I'd only planned on telling Bren this, but I figure I can get to Jack before either of you two spill your guts, so here goes. I'm seven weeks pregnant. Ergo, that means I've somewhat hormonal at the moment and have a very low tolerance for BS. So, here goes—"

Both Booth and Brennan stared at the graphic artist's confession open-mouthed and were too stunned to say anything as she continued.

Pointing at Booth, she said, "Look, Bren has spent the past seven months dreaming about you—and I don't just mean the hot, sexy steamy role-playing dreams where you two play doctor, either, although I'm sure she had her fair share of those—and don't think I won't want details later, Bren. But, she had those dreams, G-man, because she's in love with you, you big oaf."

Turning sharply to face Brennan, Angela wagged a finger at her friend as she said, "And, as for you, just because you got a bit of bad news because Booth shacked up when he was deployed—so what, Bren? I've said it before, and I'll say it again. You two have been in a relationship longer than most married couples I know. This little escapade with the Barbie doll was just that—some fun in the sun while you got your head screwed on straight in the jungles of southeast Asia. So, now you're both back, he loves you, you love him, so be a woman and grow a set, huh? Go get your man."

The pair, which had watched Angela open mouthed since she'd made her confession about her pregnancy continued to have a look of shock and awe on their faces—no easy task to render someone like Booth or Brennan, let alone the two of them, completely speechless in one foul swoop.

"Ugggh," Angela said, suddenly feeling queasy as she completed her rant. "I think I need to use the bathroom again." She stopped and looked up at the pair, "Okay, so we're good here, yeah?" Nodding at Booth, Angela said, "So, you've got a call to make to Baghdad Barbie—" She then looked at Brennan and said, "And, you need to go change into something sexy, because that whole Lara Croft getup really isn't going to work for what I guaran-damn-tee you both better happen once G-man here brooms his desert hook-up."

Taking a couple of dollars out of her purse, Angela tossed them on the table. "So, you can thank me later. Right now, I need to use the facilities and then go tell Jack the news. Ummm, yeah, so I think that'll do it for right about now—"

Turning sharply on her feet, Angela headed towards the diner's restroom.

After a moment of silence, Booth finally broke the spell when he asked, "What in the hell was that?"

"Ummm, besides Angela being extremely presumptuous, due, I suppose, to the fact that her hormonal levels are out of whack because she's gestating?" Brennan asked rather calmly for the bizarre conversation that she'd just witnessed. Taking another few seconds, she slowly shook her head and said, "I'm not certain."

"Wow," Booth said, trying to awkwardly laugh off the implications of Angela's words. "I knew pregnant women could get crazy, but where'd she come up with half of that stuff, huh?"

Slowly, realizing that she couldn't miss a second opportunity—the one for which she'd thank her best friend for giving her at last—as she'd wasted the one she'd had earlier at the Reflecting Pool, Brennan said, "She's not crazy, Booth."

"No, 'course not," Booth agreed. "I'm just saying she was spouting some pretty whacked out stuff there, Bones. I mean, implying that you love me…that's funny, right?"

"No," Brennan said slowly, reaching out and placing her hand lightly on his arm. Booth immediately tensed and the feigned levity on his face gave way to seriousness as she said, "No, it's not funny, Booth."

"Bones," he asked. "What are you saying?"

"What I should've told you at the Reflecting Pool—what I should've said to you that night at the Hoover," Brennan said slowly, her quiet voice growing more confident with each word she spoke, her decision to lay her proverbial cards on the table between them once and for all. "Although Angela's sentiments were a bit…excited…she's right."

"About what?" he could scarcely breathe.

"Everything," Brennan said softly as her eyes met his in a firm stare. "Everything, Booth. So, if you have a minute, I think we really need to talk."

-TBC-