Placing their empty bottles atop the folded cartons, she lets the plastic lid of the recycling bin swing back into place.
She recognizes routine in her actions. Routine in his too.
How many evenings have they shared take out? Or cooked for one another? Occasionally they've tried cooking together, but their combined stubbornness and Booth's tendency to distract, leads more often than not to actually sitting down to eat at an unconventionally late hour.
She sighs softly, caught up in her pondering.
Isn't sure whether an inability to carry out a simple task together is a negative indicator.
Logically, it's shockingly bad.
But…
She watches him reaching into the fridge for new bottles of Budweiser, the outline of his scapula visible against his t-shirt.
The familiar urge to reach out and trace it.
Instead, she breathes deeply. Twists her fingers into the hem of the borrowed t-shirt she wears.
Somehow, sitting down to dinner with him, tired, messy and full of teasing comebacks, always feels like a good thing.
Even better after they've closed a case.
He pushes the fridge door to, breaking her reverie. Retrieves the magnet.
Lids popped off one after the other. The second one fumbled and dropped. Caught on reflex a foot from where it began.
She's barely completed a full step towards him.
A pause.
Followed by a triumphant laugh on his part.
Her own amusement bubbling up at his enthusiasm.
"See that, Bones? Quick as a cat."
Grinning.
Holding out one of the bottles for her to take.
She accepts.
Constantly thinking.
Raising an eyebrow.
"You do know that cats aren't the fastest animal, don't you?"
Brown eyes full of mirth.
"It's a saying."
"I know it is." She says defensively, breaking away to move in the direction of the sofa. "But the saying would be more accurate if it were to reference the Peregrine falcon."
"Riiiiight," she hears behind her.
Following.
"Let me know when that one catches on, will you?"
She hears the sarcasm.
Recognizes it well in his voice nowadays.
Struggles sometimes to remember a time when ninety percent of what he said threw her off course.
Once the sofa cushions have been jammed back into place, they sit side by side, bundled into the centre of the seat. His arm lands along the back rest and she immediately curls her legs up, leaning into his side as she has done, so many times before.
Tucked in.
There's a moment of silence, a swig of beer, before she asks;
"This isn't normal, is it?"
He pauses, turning his head slightly, to view the top of hers.
Strands of her hair glinting in the lamplight.
Considers pretending. Giving the answer that will scare her the least. But… he's already announced that he's head over heels in love with her… overshot the line by a mile. And she's still here.
"It's normal for us. But no, it's not exactly FBI protocol."
She drags her bottom lip between her teeth, tense, and looks back at him.
"I knew that." She admits.
He doesn't say anything.
She's careful to hold his gaze.
"Some of the things we do… how we behave. Some of it isn't really what partners are supposed to do."
When he sighs, she looks down, fiddling with the label on the neck of her bottle.
"I thought that if I kept telling myself that everything we do is down to our partnership, then we could just keep going as we were."
He murmurs an acknowledgement. Accepting to himself that he'd spent a lot of time pretending not to notice things that she clearly understood.
Both parties entirely complicit in this.
"Booth, I need you to know that I wasn't trying to be deceptive. I was… concerned, I think, that if something changed then perhaps all of this would stop."
Frowning, he studies her as she peels the label, bit by bit.
"I get it, Bones. I really do." He sighs. "I've put off broaching the subject with you so many times."
The minutiae of changes in her body language, her face: even from this angle. The tells she thinks she doesn't have. Considering, weighing, analyzing.
"Why?"
He's too used to being a half-step behind her.
"Why what?"
"If you knew back then," she begins, "then why wait until now to say anything about it?"
"Because I'm an idiot."
She turns her head to face him. A sharp look that tells him she's not buying it.
"We both know that's not true."
A statement.
And he knows she knows.
Because she's not an idiot either.
The briefest of nods. Resolve.
"Honestly Bones, there isn't just one thing to explain it. It's a lot of bad timing and things I wish I'd said or done." He pauses, before adding, "and things I wish I hadn't said or done."
She's steady. Watching him. Waiting. Listening.
He breaks eye contact, a rueful exhalation escaping. Ashamed at himself.
"Partly not being in the right headspace to deal with…" he trails off, not sure how to sufficiently articulate the last six years of their lives in a single sentence.
"Me?" she asks, swallowing thickly. "To deal with me?"
His reaction is instant. Eyes darting back to her face. Consumed with guilt that she'd ever think that.
"No!"
The furrow of her brow. Quizzical. Trusting, but not entirely believing.
"That's never been… Jesus… Bones, the minute you walked into my life, you improved it, ok. I've never had a single doubt about that."
Dropping his arm from its resting place and squeezing her shoulder. Holding her more firmly against his side.
She closes her eyes for the briefest of seconds, attempting to take in what he's saying. Struggling to consolidate one sentence with the next.
He's holding too much back.
"So explain it to me."
"I told you, I…"
She shifts slightly, reaches out to lay a hand on his chest, effectively cutting him off. He glances down at her hand, then back up to her face. Blue eyes trained on his.
She feels his deep inhale though her palm. The steady thump, thump of his myocardium contracting.
"Booth, it doesn't have to add up neatly. That's not what I'm asking. But if I'm going to understand… this…" she pauses, "us… fully, then I need to have all the information."
"I'm not a set of remains." He says stubbornly.
A reproachful look.
"You're always telling me that motive is highly important."
He can't help the small laugh that escapes.
Leans his head back, silently seeking the strength. Feels her fingers flex against his chest.
If they're going to have any chance at all, he needs to let her in fully.
She needs to do the same.
Bit of a longer gap between chapter posts than intended, as some of the later chapters have started writing themselves pre-emptively! Not sure yet how far this will extend, but rest assured there is a rough plan in place that I don't intend to abandon :)
Reviews with comments/thoughts/opinions are always welcome!