(Challenge)
A/N: this takes place after "The Double Death of the Dearly Departed".
I don't own Bones, not even a little bit.
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"Booth are you gambling again?" A little worried, Brennan placed her coffee cup down on the table before her and waited for her partner to answer.
Uncomfortable with the topic, Booth asked, "What makes you think that?"
Her arms crossed as if to protect herself, Brennan replied, "You said that Hank ran the best fantasy football league in the district and that he owed you 20 dollars."
Trying to buy time, Booth tore open a sugar packet and poured the sweetener in his coffee. Stirring the hot liquid with a knife, he finally replied, "It's just fantasy football, Bones. It's not like I'm hanging out in pool halls or at poker tables."
Her anxiety growing, Brennan hugged herself, "Booth, anything that requires you to relinquish money to place bets is gambling. You're a degenerate gambler. Sooner or later fantasy football won't be a challenge enough and you will hang out in pool halls and at poker games."
"I'm not a degenerate gambler, Bones." His irritation growing with his partner, Booth protested, "I'm a recovering gambler."
Sadly, Brennan shook her head, "You're not a recovering anything if you're placing bets."
Feeling like he'd been slapped, Booth sat back and stared at his partner, "Um . . . yeah." Rubbing his forehead, Booth thought about it and frowned, "Yeah, no you're right. I . . . I think I better call my sponsor and talk to him . . . maybe attend some meetings. . . . Thanks Bones, I don't know what I was thinking, but you're right."
Relieved that Booth recognized that he had a problem, Brennan relaxed and moved her hand across the table. Placing her hand over his hand, she smiled, "I'm here for you Booth if you need me to be."
"Thanks Bones." Staring at her hand clasping his, Booth sighed, "I don't want to gamble anymore. I want . . . Thanks."
Happy that the conversation had gone better than she'd hoped, Brennan replied, "We're friends, Booth. I'm merely looking out for my friend."
A feeling of sadness washing over him, Booth attempted to smile, "Yeah, friends help each other." Afraid to push for more in their relationship, he realized that he wasn't strong enough to move them forward and probably never would be. Hell, I can't even control my gambling like I should. What makes me think I'm the man that she needs? She needs someone stronger than me, that's for sure. Removing his hand from her grasp, Booth spoke softly, "I don't know what I'd do without you Bones."
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Any good?