28 Carriage Confession

Brennan stopped to stare at the carriage. "Oh look, Booth! Someone's ordered a carriage," she said. She began looking around for whomever ordered it.

"Yea, I wonder who?" Booth asked comically as he led her towards the carriage.

"What?" Brennan exclaimed. "Booth, tell me you didn't do this."

"Then I would be lying, and I won't lie to you, Bones," he said impishly.

The liveried driver hopped down and met them beside the carriage. "Good evening, Mr. Booth, ma'am," he greeted them, tipping his hat. "We'll need to keep an eye on the weather in case this picks up.," he said glance up to indicate the light snow. "Weather report is on your side though."

Booth shook the man's hand. "Thank you, Mr. Carmichael. This is Dr. Temperance Brennan," Booth introduced her with a brief nod of his head.

"Pleasure, ma'am," Carmichael replied. Carmichael and Booth helped Brennan into the carriage, and Booth joined her. They settled the carriage blanket over their laps while Carmichael climbed back into the driver's seat and gave the reigns a little toss. The horses shook their bridles, making the bells jingle again, and then they were off. The muffled clip-clop of the horses' hooves on the snow-covered streets was just audible.

"Now I know why you insisted on the gloves and scarf earlier," Brennan said, leaning into Booth, who wrapped an arm around her shoulders. They sat quietly together watching the snow fall and taking in the sights of the nighttime snow-covered city from their unusual vantage point. Occasionally, one of them would point out something of interest as they meandered passed.

Carmichael took them on a circuitous path through the city. As they rode past Arlington National Cemetery, Booth felt her tense beside him. Her grip on his hand under the blanket grew tighter, and she seemed to be leaning into him more than she had a few moments earlier. He turned his head to whisper in her ear, "I know you haven't given me your answer yet, but if there's a chance you're willing to accept my conditions, you could tell me what's bothering you."

She sighed and leaned her head back to ask, "How is it you see through me so easily?"

"It's a gift," he said flashing her a brief smile.

"The last time I went in there, I thought you were," her words faded to a whisper, "dead." He rubbed her shoulder and hugged her to him. She resisted at first, but eventually rested her head on his shoulder. He felt her relax against him and breathed his own sigh of relief.

Brennan considered telling him all of it. He deserved the truth, but it was so hard to open up after intentionally sealing herself off from everyone for so long. On the other hand, he said he wanted honesty with no secrets. While she considered her options, Booth remained quiet. As illogical as it seemed, she felt he was sharing his strength with her, just by holding her. Brennan appreciated his silence. Another man would have prodded and cajoled her to continue. Not Booth. He waited. He was willing to accept what she offered.

Her decision made, her anguish unfolded slowly. "When they told me you were dead, I felt so alone. My chest hurt, my throat closed up. It was all I could to to get out of there and get home before I...," her voice trailed off again. He continued rubbing her shoulder gently while he waited for her to gather her thoughts and continue. Brennan was stunned that the loss she felt so keenly during those awful two weeks returned to her now with such force. To her surprise, she realized she didn't want to hide her pain from Booth. He was worth the risk. Suddenly, she found the words pouring from her in a torrent she was powerless to stop.

"Booth, it was worse than when my parents and Russ left," she began.

"How so?" he asked quietly.

" I used to pretend they would come home for me; take me away from the latest horror show masquerading as a foster family. I didn't wait around for them, obviously, but I still had hope."

"When I thought you died, I," she paused to rub her forehead, as if she had a headace. "I lost control. I couldn't even hope that you would return. I cried myself to sleep more nights than I care to remember. Every morning I woke thinking it was just a bad dream. Then the reality of it would strike again. I had to tuck my memories of you in a little box and file it away, just so I could get through each day. But at night, I couldn't. Angela tried to get me to talk, but I didn't want anyone near me. Memories of you tore open the wound fresh again. Every. Single. Night."

Booth linked his fingers were hers under the blanket and let her continue at her own pace.

"I didn't sleep at all the night before your funeral. I sat on the balcony, staring up at the stars, wishing there was a God so I could tell him exactly how unfair and cruel it was to take you away."

Booth felt her shaking beside him as the memories overcame her. He said nothing, but held her close, still gently running his hand along her shoulder and his lips against her silken hair. Brennan's trembling slowed, and finally she began to relax again.

"He heard you, Bones," Booth whispered into her hair. Brennan raised her head from his chest in order to meet his eyes. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. What he saw gave him hope, and enough courage to ask, "Did you find hope again?"

She nodded. "I found something else too."

Booth raised any eyebrow questioningly.

"I found love," she whispered.

Booth found himself trembling at her words.

"I can warm you up, if you'll have me," she said tucking the blanket around them tighter, as she leaned up and brushed her lips across his for the second time in as many days. Like yesterday, Booth's free hand flew to her face. But this time he did not pull her away. Instead, he ran his fingers through her hair and pulled her to him, deepening their kiss. Soft lips pressed together, gentle at first. Then needful and demanding, his tongue teased her lips, and she granted him access, tasting of an intoxicating mixture of mango, coconut, and champagne.

A sharp "Ho, there!" from Carmichael brought them to reality again, and they felt the carriage slow. Booth pulled back from the sweetness of her lips to kiss her forehead. He sighed contentedly, and she tucked her head safely against his shoulder, as the carriage pulled up outside of the restaurant.

They remained seated while Carmichael secured the reigns, and hopped down from the driver's seat. He walked around the horses and made a pretense of checking hoofs and bridles to give the couple a few more minutes in the carriage. When he returned, to help them down, Booth put aside the blanket and stepped down. He turned to help Brennan descend the steps, and Carmichael stood nearby, ready to assist if necessary.

Once safely on the ground, Brennan turned to Carmichael and thanked him for the ride. Booth shook his hand and thanked him as well. Carmichael bid them good night, and Booth and Brennan stood with their arms around each other, standing in the parking lot with slow flurries swirling around them, watching the carriage depart.

"I think I'd like to go home now," Brennan said, turning her face back to Booth as the carriage rounded a corner. He silently offered her his arm. She took it as they turned for the car.

"Your place or mine?" he asked suggestively as he held open the passenger door.

"Mine, please. You have to get to Parker in the morning, and I would rather not have to take a cab home," she said, ever practical.

"It's closer too," Booth said with a wicked grin. He quickly kissed her again and helped her into the car.