Some of you felt so bad for Bones in the last chapter. Well, turn abouts fair play, I suppose.
Booth wasn't entirely sure why, the night before he had to report to Army Base Camp, he was even entertaining the idea of this going-away-shin-dig at the Founding Fathers. Actually, he thought, as he pushed the doors open and entered the bar, he knew exactly why he'd agreed to come out tonight, and she was sitting at the bar pounding back a shot with Angela and some tall and broody looking guy he didn't recognize. The guy's arm snaked around Bones' waist as he flagged down the bartender with his other, and Booth groaned. He definitely should have stayed home tonight.
Booth was scanning the bar for the rest of the Squint Squad when both of his hands were suddenly grasped. "Booth!" Angela squealed at him, releasing his hands and throwing her arms around his neck. "You came!" She shouted right next to his ear.
All right then. They were clearly already half in the bag. He knew he was a little later than he said he'd be, but he wanted to tuck Parker in and ended up spending some time with Rebecca and Brent, going over his affairs.
He'd brought over all of the documents she'd need to manage his finances, as well as Pops' billing schedule for the retirement community. He'd already spoken to the bank so that automatic transfers would be sent to her on a regular schedule for anything Parker might need. She had been hesitant about being his next of kin on file, asking him if there was someone else he'd prefer more. That had burned a little, having to face the fact that Jared was a deadbeat, Pops was getting up there in years, and Bones… well… that was changing. Rebecca and Parker, and he supposed Brent, were all he had.
He'd assured her that anything he had, in the event of his death, would be Parker's regardless, and he didn't want her having to jump through hoops to get it. He'd had a man to man with Brent, asking the other man to treat his kid like his own should anything happen that Booth couldn't come home. He'd assured Booth that he already adored Parker and nothing would change that. Rebecca had told him it felt morbid to be discussing his death like it was inevitable, but as a lawyer, she understood the necessity to get his affairs in order.
It bummed him out talking about it too, so much so, he'd almost decided he'd just head home for the night. He really wasn't in the mood for drinks and goodbyes.
"Yay…" he muttered, returning Angela's hug and keeping his eyes on the wandering hand across the room that was now resting low on Bones' hip. "Hey, who's that guy with Bones?" He asked, and watched Angela face work through a series of emotions.
"Todd? Tim?" She was asking, rather than telling him, and he rolled his eyes. All right, so it was one of those guys. "I don't really remember his name. I do remember that he put Bren and I on his tab." She told him as she pulled him toward the bar. "So nice!" She shouted over the noise to him.
"Oh yea, and completely without any expectations, I'm sure." He muttered back to her, but she didn't seem to hear him. Not that either of them needed some random guy buying their drinks. They were both successful and wealthy women. He'd have to ask Bones if there was an anthropological reason why women liked strange men in bars to buy their drinks. He already knew why the men did it.
When he got close enough, he leaned on the bar as close to Bones as possible on her free side, and poked her in the side. The beaming grin she afforded him when she'd realized who it was had been worth it. "Booth!" She shouted at him, her shiny eyes wide and just a little brighter than usual. She slipped out of Todd or Tim's grasp and slung her arms around his neck, just like Angela had done. He returned the hug, squeezing her just a little tighter and a little longer than absolutely necessary. After the conversation he'd had to have with his kid and his ex tonight, a bear hug from Bones was probably the best damn thing he could think of.
When they parted, another round of shots was being slid in front of them and Booth glanced up at the generous shots benefactor. "Oh! Booth, this is Anton!" Bones told him, throwing her thumb over her shoulder in the man's direction.
"Aaron." The guy corrected her, extending a hand toward Booth. He took it, squeezing firmly as he introduced himself right back, letting his other hand splay open his green cargo jacket on its way to his hip, revealing his gun and badge. "Wow, a fed. You girls weren't kidding when you said you have friends in high places!" The guy said with a smirk that didn't sit well with Booth.
Booth chuckled, throwing an arm around the guy's shoulder and tugging him in close. "I'll let you in on a secret, Todd." He whispered, or what could be considered a whisper in the loud bar.
"Aaron." The guy corrected again, but Booth plowed over him.
"Like I said, Tim, I'll let you in on a secret." Booth continued, deliberately getting the guy's name wrong again. "Those beautiful women right there, they are my friends in high places, so you'd better watch yourself with them. Never know what you might get with those two." He added, patting Todd on the back and releasing him just in time for Bones and Angela to turn around with more shots, this time a fourth one for him. "Cheer, Bob!" Booth said before knocking back the shot.
"We have to pee!" Angela announced, linking her arm through Bones' and heading in the direction of the bathroom. Booth watched them cross the busy bar until they entered the ladies room before he turned back toward the bar and waved their regular bartender over.
With a brief side eye glance at … shit Booth had been making fun of the guy so much, he'd forgotten what his actual name was. Whoever he was, Booth made sure he was watching. "Zain, make sure my girls are taken care of. Put them on my tab for the rest of the night." He said, and watched as the familiar young man gave a brief glance toward… Anton? Before nodding at Booth with a knowing smile. "Send Sammy over with another round for the table on me too, will ya?" He requested, and Zain nodded, beginning to pour Booth a scotch for his trip back to the table.
"Glad you stopped by before you were deployed, Booth. We're going to miss having you in here." Zain commented, handing Booth his scotch and saluting him.
"At ease, kid." Booth told him, remembering Zain had mentioned he'd done a tour as well. He was a Navy boy, like Jared.
Booth glanced over at the table where the rest of squints and Sweets were hanging out before he headed toward the ladies room, hoping to head off Bones and Angela when they came out. He ushered them to the table, bypassing the bar and Tim all together. It didn't matter what the guy's name was; he was done flirting with these lovely ladies for the night.
He paused for a moment when he pulled out their chairs, thinking Bones looked a little different. Hadn't she been wearing a blazer or jacket of some kind when he arrived? He shook his head, assuming he was just tired and sat down next to her.
Booth watched from his seat as Bones and Cam stood at the bar, making the next drink order for the table. He kept his eyes trained on them all the way back as well, and wondered who would watch over them while he was gone? Who would watch over them if he didn't come home? Sure, they were all strong, successful women who could easily hold their own, but he'd always felt a certain responsibility toward them. They were his family. He'd had the same conflict thinking about Parker and Pops, hell even Jared. Who would keep Jared on the straight and narrow if things fell apart with the wife he'd know for all of 30 seconds?
"Booth!" Bones shouted excitedly, putting a fruity drink with an umbrella and orange slice on the side down in front of both him and her. "Look! It's called Tequila Sunshine! I got you one too!" she told him with an animated grin.
"Sunrise, Bones. It's a Tequila Sunrise." he corrected her with a laugh. He wouldn't have picked it for himself, truthfully. If he was going to have tequila it would be straight up with a lemon wedge and a pinch of salt, but she was having a good time, and he was happy seeing her so happy and carefree.
"It's delicious, is what it is." she told him matter-of-factly, leaning forward to sip on her straw. He nodded in agreement, taking a sip of his drink and tossing the umbrella at her playfully.
Bones was taking a last slurping sip of her drink when Angela grabbed her hand and yanked her out of her chair, pulling her toward the dance floor. He chuckled, wondering how the two of them would manage not seeing each other every day for the next year. He wondered briefly how he'd manage not seeing Bones every day too, but he knew some distance would help mend that dull ache he'd been feeling since she shot him down. She hadn't said 'not yet' or 'someday' or 'let's try'. She'd flat out told him she couldn't do it, and he knew he needed to accept that.
He watched them for a few moments, bopping around the dance floor, before he turned his attention to Hodgins telling a story. He'd only just registered the first few bars to the next song that came on, and he instinctively sought out Bones. She had clearly been seeking him out too because she made eye contact from the dance floor.
"Hot Blooded!" He could tell she had shouted it, but from across the noisy bar, it looked more like she dramatically mouthed it, pointing to the speakers above her head. He smiled, nodding at her, but when she tilted her head to the side and waved him over, he knew he had no choice. Moving on would wait until tomorrow; tonight, he would allow himself to be wrapped around her little finger just a little longer.
When he got to where Bones and Angela were dancing, or rather jumping in a way that rivaled the best mosh pit he'd ever been in, he realized how much smaller she looked and glanced down. She was barefoot, hopping up and down, playing a mean air guitar, and screaming the lyrics at the top of her lungs. Her hands grasped his suddenly, and he had no choice but to jump with her. He'd regret that in the morning when his body ached and groaned, but he'd had enough to drink that he wasn't going to feel it tonight.
As the song came to a close and another blended into it, she stopped jumping and leaned into him, laughing. He leaned back into her, and his arms came around her waist so naturally, completely of their own accord, and his fingers stroked up and down her back, relishing the strange sensation of the rough fabric against his skin.
He whispered against the shell of her ear, laughing as he asked where her shoes were, and she laughed and shrugged, pressing even closer to him. Why was is so damn easy to fall into this… this stupid surrogate relationship as Sweets had called it. Why the hell did she fit in his arms so perfectly, like this was exactly where she belonged?
Several dances later, and an unsuccessful hunt for Bones' heels, they headed back to the table. Booth had made another drink order and asked Zain to have the staff keep an eye open for a pair of footless shoes.
As they drank and chatted with their team, a team that would be disbanded soon, Booth kept one eye on Bones, chatting to Daisy about all the things they might discover in Makapoopoo. She chatted animatedly, waving her hands and head, and just about her whole damn body around, babbling a mile-a-minute about things he'd never understand, but he couldn't help but give her his rapt attention.
When she excused herself again to go to the bathroom, dragging Daisy by the hand with her, he watched her walk away. He knew it was probably the booze making him more melancholy than he should be, but watching her trot away to the bathroom made him feel like she was walking right out of his life. Needing to clear his mind, he reached for his drink and took a long swig.
Something sharp hit his mouth from in the drink, and he nearly dropped the glass, pulling it back to look. His brow furrowed as he placed the drink on the table and reached into the shallow amber liquid. He fished out a small metal hook with a turquoise stone dangling from it and shook it gently to get the scotch off of it. He'd seen it earlier in the evening, hanging from Bones' ear lobe. He had no idea how it had ended up in his drink, but he tucked it into the breast pocket of his jacket for safe-keeping.
After several minutes, Bones and Daisy had yet to return from the bathroom, so he rose from his chair, intent on making sure they hadn't been caught up by any creeps in the dark hallway. As he approached, there was no line up outside either of the washrooms, so he rapped his knuckles against the ladies room door and pressed his ear to the door. When nobody called out, he pushed the door open a crack and called inside.
"Bones?"
"Agent Booth!" Daisy called back, slurring her words. "We need help!" She called back, and he shoved the door open, feeling very sober suddenly and reaching for his gun as he barreled into the bathroom.
He held his hand over his holster as he took in the scene; Both Daisy and Bones were leaning over the counter, looking intently into the sink. "What's wrong?" He asked, trying to register if they were sick or bleeding or otherwise in any kind of actual danger, maybe there was a body in the drain? That wouldn't be a first for them. It didn't appear that any of that was going on.
"I dropped my contact in the sink." Bones told him, her voice slurring and panicky as she held one hand over her left eye. He stared at her for a long moment, wondering if she was being serious.
"I saw it fall. I'm sure of it." Daisy told him, glancing at him only briefly before shoving her index finger down the filthy drain.
He would have laughed out loud if he wasn't so damn baffled by this ridiculous scene. Even if she had dropped a contact down the drain, in what world would she fish it out of a bar sink and shove it back into her eye? Logic was not working for her tonight.
"Bones." He said her name firmly, demanding her attention as he approached the sink. She glanced up at him with one wide blue eye. "Bones, you don't wear contacts." He reminded her, and gently pried her hand away from her eye. She blinked a few times, adjusting to the light her left eye had been deprived of for God knew how long.
When she burst out into laughter, he could help but join her, wrapping an arm around her waist and guiding her out of the bathroom with a chirping Daisy behind them, insisting she'd seen the contact fall from Bones' face while she was washing her hands.
Booth smiled at Bones, sitting on the barstool next to him with her bare feet swinging as Zain refilled their shot glasses for the third or … it might have been the fourth time since they'd sat down to have a send-off shot with their favorite bartender. Bones lifted hers, and he knocked his against it gently, before they both tilted their heads and swallowed back the Patron. It was going down way too easily now. He saw Bones shiver, and wondered if it was the tequila or her bare arms.
"Weren't you wearing some lacey shirt thing earlier?" Booth asked with a confused laugh, only just registering that she was sitting there in her black tank top and jeans. He was sure she hadn't started the night in that. He knew she hadn't because he distinctly remembered enjoying the texture of the lace shirt under his fingertips when they danced.
"I… think so." she laughed, looking around the floor around their stools as if her shirt had simply fallen off while they'd been sitting there taking shots. She laughed again and held a finger up at Zain, requesting another round, which he was only too happy to oblige.
After downing the shot, she leaned in closer to him, resting her elbow on the bar and her chin in her hand as she grinned at him. He smiled back and mimicked her position when she crooked her finger at him, telling him to come closer.
She was grinning like a damn Cheshire cat, so he waited with mirthful eyes to hear what secrets she was about to bestow upon him. "You know… since we're not going to work together anymore, we could–"
"-Ayyyy. I remember how this proposition ended the last time." he interrupted her with a laugh, remembering the first time they'd gotten drunk on tequila together. She laughed too, leaning just a little bit closer.
"We didn't have sex last time." she told him, with a sly smirk, and he nodded.
"Exactly." he told her, leaning in just a little bit closer too. He swallowed hard, despite the brain fog from the shots and everything else, listening as she told him that perhaps they should tempt fate and see how that conversation ends tonight.
His poker face must have complete crap though because she'd clearly registered his discomfort. "I'm sorry, Booth. You– I'm sorry." she told him, sitting up straight and looking genuinely upset for making him uncomfortable. Seeing her upset only served to make him feel even worse. "I just… I feel like we're saying goodbye. Not just goodbye, but–"
"I know." he cut her off. He'd felt like that all night. He'd felt like, somehow, this was it for them all, that no matter what happened over the next 12 months, they'd never put it all back together at the end of it. "Everything is changing." he said, speaking his thoughts out loud.
"It– it makes me uncomfortable." she admitted to him, like he didn't already know. Change always made her uneasy. Wasn't that exactly why she'd turned him down? Because she didn't want things to change? Running to opposite ends of the damn planet definitely felt like a bigger change than letting him love her.
Fight or flight. He knew that's what this was. They were both faced with an opportunity to fight or to run. They'd chosen flight, and suddenly that made absolutely no sense to him.
Her pinched face drew his attention back to her, and he realized he'd been staring right through her eyes. She'd been staring right back, and he wondered what she was thinking.
"Hey…" he whispered, bringing the side of his finger under her chin and tilting her face up, just a little. Her lips and eyes were equally glossy, and he hesitated. They were definitely past the point of logic and reason. When he leaned down, slanting his lips over hers, he realized his body was past the point of his brain's consent too.
When she started kissing him back, he was glad that he'd shown up, wondering just how far past the point of consent she was too. Would she have gone home with Todd if he didn't show up and monopolize her for the entire night? The thought made him nauseous, and he knew it was time. He had to rip the bandaid off if he was ever going to find peace and truly move on.
"I'll call a cab." he whispered against her lips, and she moaned, nodding in agreement. He groaned as their lips parted, missing her already and licking his lips. She tasted just like the first time they'd kissed, and it was ten times sweeter because he knew this time that he loved her. The bitter ache was new though because back then when they'd kissed he'd felt like they were sparking a fire; it was like lightning in a bottle, something new with a future ahead of them. He'd even told her that that night.
"I just, I feel like this is going somewhere."
"Hey, Booth!" one of the waiters called out to him as he was laying down some cash for a tip. Booth glanced up and was greeted with a very welcome sight. Dangling from the fingers on his left hand were a pair of navy suede pumps and in his right a lacy black shirt and a navy blazer.
Every kiss in the cab, in the elevator, every heated stare as they fumbled with her keys and tried to open the door, they all paled in comparison to the feeling of her arms wrapped around his neck and her legs around his waist, leaving a hot trail of kisses along his jaw as he stumbled through her apartment straight to her bedroom.
They both laughed when he tossed her onto her bed, but as their eyes locked for a long moment, he saw all of his own emotions reflecting back at him. She must have seen the same thing, because she schooled her features so suddenly. Gone was the emotionally exposed woman, replaced by the tequila soaked, already half-naked vixen, and she was tugging his belt buckle to drag him onto the bed.
She laughed when he stumbled, falling haphazardly on top of her, and he couldn't help but join her, laughing as he hid his embarrassment for being so drunk and clumsy by burying his face in her hair. Her fingernails scratched down the length of his back through the thin fabric of his t-shirt, and he inhaled. Were they really doing this?
"Are you sure we should do this?" he asked her, wondering if he even dared to look into her eyes right now. They were way too drunk to make sound decisions, but he wondered if maybe that was what she'd wanted. Maybe that was what he'd wanted too. Just two friends who got too drunk and fell into bed with each other. It would make it easier to write it off as something other than what they both knew it was. "Bones?" he asked, tilting his head up when he realized she was limp in his arms. Pushing himself up on his hands and locking his elbows, he laughed at himself.
History was repeating itself, as it should because they had no more business doing what they had been planning to do just now than they had that first night.
"We are not spending the night together."
"Of course we aren't. Why?"
"Tequila."
"Goodnight, Bones." he whispered, pressing a firm kiss to her forehead before crawling to the other side of the bed. He carefully pulled her up to the pillow and yanked the blankets out from under her, pulling them up over them both. He swallowed around the lump in his throat and pulled her close to his body, kissing the top of her hair as she snuggled into his chest.
Booth snatched his phone off the table next to him, quickly dismissing the alarm he'd set and looking at the time. It was time. It was the time, and his stomach was suddenly in knots. He carefully extracted himself from Bones' embrace, ignoring the throbbing in his head and nausea boiling over in his stomach. He was getting too old to drink like they'd done last night, that was for damn sure. His entire body hurt.
He made his way to Bones' kitchen and downed several glasses of cold water, washing down the painkillers he'd found in her bathroom cabinet. Refilling the glass and grabbing a few more tablets, he quietly snuck into Bones' bedroom again, placing the items on her nightstand and pulling the covers up to her neck.
He left a note, telling her he'd miss her, and he'd try to get a pass to see her off at the airport, and then he stood in the doorway of her bedroom and said goodbye for what felt like the last time.
"I couldn't get a pass." he told her, because nothing else seemed logical as they stood there in a crowded airport, surrounded by all of their friends, friends he hadn't seen since their send-off party a week ago. "I had to sneak off the base to come and say goodbye." he told her, and he had had to do it, because the goodbye they'd had wasn't enough for him; it wasn't going to keep him sane for the next 12 months to know that they'd gotten wasted and passed out, and he'd said goodbye to her with two ibuprofen tablets while she slept soundly.
She smiled at him, and he wasn't sure what else to say. Daisy was nagging at her, telling her they had to go. "Listen, Bones, you gotta be really careful in that Indonesian jungle, okay?" he told her, not because he didn't think she was capable of taking care of herself, but because there were so many other things he wanted to say that he couldn't.
'I love you.'
'Don't go.'
'Let's get on a plane together and disappear.'
"Booth, in a week you're going to a war zone." she told him, her blue eyes wide and full of anguish. "Please, don't be a hero. Please, just don't be you." she begged him, and he reached for her hand, needing to comfort her one last time.
"One year from today, we meet at the reflecting pool on the mall." he reminded her, and she nodded.
"Right by the–" she started.
"-coffee cart." he finished her sentence for her, reiterating what they'd discussed dozens of times since making the decision to go their separate ways. Agreeing to a meeting spot had given him hope that they'd both come back in one piece. That they'd both come back, period.
He stared into her eyes for a long moment, hoping he was conveying every ounce of his love for her. Daisy's nagging rang through again and the overhead announcement was calling her as well, demanding she walk away, so he pried his hand from hers and turned rapidly, walking quickly away from her. He'd only made it 20 steps before he felt something prickle on the back of his neck and he turned back to see her looking at him.
One last look, and they both turned and walked away.
Next up: Just how did Margarita Mom-Days go?
