A/N: First, gracias, spacibo, danke, merci, grazi, domo arigato...and how ever many other ways I can think of to say thank you! I've been severly lacking with the individual thanks, but I wanted to make sure I told you all how much I appreciate your feedback. Even after all these chapters I still feel nervous posting Bones stuff, still feel new at it and not quite good enough, but you guys always reasure me when I do well, and are so sweet in correcting me when I make an error. You all are writers and know how much responses like that mean, but I wanted to say it anyway. THANK YOU!
A/N 2: The lyrics quoted in this section are from the song "Hold On, I'm Comin'" by Sam & Dave, which are, unfortunately, not mine. This song has been one of my absolute favorites for as long as I can remember, and the lyrics just seemed to fit Booth and Brennan so well...I only hope I did it (and them) justice. If you've never heard it...what are you waiting for? Go find it and crank it up really loud! ...right after you read this chapter ;-)
Enjoy!
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Booth rose from the couch in Brennan's office and paced restlessly around the room. It was late and he was more tired than he realized. And their case was going nowhere.
Running a hand through his hair and down the back of his neck, he loosened his tie and rubbed muscles sore from too many hours of reading reports and studying photographs. His eyes roamed as he walked, noting the emptiness of the rest of the lab and envying the Squints who had all gone home for the night.
Midway through his third lap around the office, he stopped in front of a shelf he had seen many times before. "Hey Bones, since when do you have a stereo in your office?"
Brennan looked up from her computer. "Since I started working here," she responded.
"Really?" His eyebrows bunched together. "I don't remember it being here."
She pushed back from her desk and stood, walking slowly over to him, working out the kinks in her own body. "Well, it is here."
"When do you use it?" he persisted, reaching out to examine the object in question as he spoke. "You don't listen to music when you work because you think it's distracting, and you don't take breaks…"
She took hold of his wrist firmly and pulled it away from the stereo. "I do so take breaks," she insisted, glaring at him.
"What? When? When your eyeballs turn into sand, your brain becomes jell-o, and you fall asleep at your desk?" he smirked.
"For your information," she shot back, "eyeballs cannot turn into sand, nor can brain matter transform into jell-o." She paused briefly, her eyes shifting away from his before she mumbled, "And I only fell asleep at my desk once."
His dark eyes twinkled. "Once that I caught you."
She huffed irritably and shuffled a few steps away.
"Why don't we fire up this baby now?" Booth asked, changing the subject. "We could both use a break…"
"I don't need a break," Brennan shook her head. "I'm going to keep working."
"Come on Bones, you just told me that you take breaks sometimes. Take one now," he cajoled, grasping her elbow lightly and directing her back toward him. "Think of it as another lesson in your pop culture education. I'll pick out a radio station, and we'll just relax and enjoy the music for a few minutes."
She pressed her lips together and frowned, but relented, not ready to sit back down again. "Fine."
He released her and clapped his hands together, rubbing them in anticipation before pressing the power button and turning the tuning dial. Settling on an oldies station, he twisted the volume knob until the DJ's voice blared from the speakers.
"Booth! That's too loud!" she reprimanded. "Turn it down!"
He grinned. "There's nobody here but us."
She reached past him and jerked the volume control to the left. "That's better."
"Now it's too quiet." With a flick of his wrist he turned the volume back up, but not to the extreme level it had been. "This is a good compromise."
Saxophones began playing the opening notes of the next song, and Booth turned back to her with a goofy grin.
"Dance with me, Bones," he prompted cheerfully.
He held his hand out to her and she stared at it when she answered. "Here? In the lab?"
"Come on. No one else is here, remember? It'll be a good way to loosen up all those stiff muscles."
Don't you ever feel sad
Lean on me when times are bad
When the day comes and you're down
In a river of trouble and about to drown
She accepted his hand and allowed him to draw her to him. His grin widened and he slipped his arm around her waist, quickly falling into rhythm with the jazzy beat.
Just hold on, I'm comin'
Hold on, I'm comin'
"I like this song," Brennan declared as they moved. "The horns are repetitive but energizing, and the vocalist obviously takes pleasure in his work…"
"See?" he replied, pleased to see her enjoying herself. "I knew you'd like it. That's why I turned it up so loud."
"The song wasn't even playing yet when you turned up the volume," she scoffed.
I'm on my way, your lover
If you get cold, yeah, I will be your cover
Don't have to worry, 'cause I'm here
Don't need to suffer baby, 'cause I'm near
His hand inched further across her back, drawing her closer as he chuckled. "Okay, you got me. But you admit my taste in music is not as awful as you thought? This is a good song?"
She nodded. "It's simple, but very catchy."
"And the lyrics are good, too," he smiled, his tone becoming a bit softer. "Kinda reminds me of you and me."
That surprised her. "Really?"
Just hold on, I'm comin'
Hold on, I'm comin'
Hold on, I'm comin'
Hold on, I'm comin'
"Yeah," he confirmed. "It's all about two people taking care of each other, and that's what we do, right? I'm here for you when you need me, and you're there for me."
She moved a half-step closer, slipping her hand from his shoulder to his back. "That is what we do," she smiled.
Reach out to me for satisfaction, yeah
Call my name for quick reaction
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
He twirled her around, his eyes twinkling as he flashed her his patented charm smile and pulled her back to him, squishing up his face and singing zealously along with the last verse.
Now don't you ever feel sad
Lean on me when the times are bad
When the day comes and you're down, baby
In a river of trouble and about to drown
Her laugh rang out over the sound of the music at the contortions of his features and the enthusiasm with which he sang. When she noticed the sincerity in his eyes as he mimicked she quieted a bit, knowing without being told that he meant the lyrics for her just as surly as if he'd spoken them to her walking down the street. Acting on impulse—a rare occurrence for her—she threw her arms around him suddenly and held him tightly.
As soon as the impulse came it left, and she loosened her grip, turning her attention back to the music and singing the chorus with a fervor matching his own.
Just hold on, I'm comin'
Hold on, I'm comin'
Hold on, I'm comin'
Hold on, I'm comin'
They danced energetically to two more songs and walked around the vacant lab a few minutes before ending their break and returning to their case. Booth sighed heavily and plopped back on Brennan's couch, pushing aside the suit jacked he had discarded hours ago and picking up one of the file folders next to it. Brennan resumed her position at her computer, commanding her brain to shift its attention back to the task at hand.
Her brain, however, refused the commands, dwelling instead on the dances with Booth. She could still feel the warm pressure of his hand holding hers, his arm around her waist. Her stomach did little flips when she thought of the look in his eyes as he held her, borrowing the forty-year-old lyrics to convey his feelings for her. Her heart beat faster as she caught a faint whiff of his cologne from across the room.
These are all biological indicators of attraction, she rationalized. And I've been attracted to him from the first day we met. It's a chemical response aimed at insuring the continuation of the species, nothing more.
It was an explanation she had given herself many times before, but it seemed hollow this time. Sam & Dave's lyrics floated across her memory, adding to the dissatisfaction left by her logic. "Don't you ever feel sad, lean on me when times are bad…don't have to worry, 'cause I'm here, don't need to suffer baby, 'cause I'm near…"
What if something happened to Booth? The question entered her mind before she could stop it, and her stomach instantly tightened into a mass of quivering knots. She lifted a hand from her keyboard and placed it on her abdomen, discovering that her palms were becoming clammy with anxiety as well.
I don't want to think about that, she thought determinedly. It's useless to dwell on events that have not yet happened.
She frowned and leaned an elbow on her desk, resting her chin in her hand, her eyes roving toward her couch. His head was bent low as he read, his face giving away his fatigue but also his determination to keep going. It was the same strong will he had show with her, saving her life on more than one occasion, working diligently on her parents' disappearance despite the little information there was to go on. She knew that the lyrics he had sung to her were true, that he really would take care of her. She knew, too, that she would always be there to take care of him, however awkward she was with other people.
He glanced up from the stack of papers he was reading and caught her staring at him. She quickly averted her eyes, pretending to have been working at the computer the whole time, but not before a realization hit her, and hit her hard.
She was in love with her partner.