What I Wish I Could've Said

Rated: T

Disclaimer: I own nothing... Obviously. Just playing in someone else's sandbox for a bit.

Summary: Hindsight is always 20/20. Everyone has a single moment that they wish they could have said something better than what they actually did. A completely random series of what-if vignettes.

Ch 6: That Time Booth Wanted to Be Alone

Sitting next to each other at her dining room table, the music playing softly in the background, Booth sipped his beer as Brennan sat down and began to spoon some of the macaroni and cheese she had made onto her plate. He watched her for a few seconds and then smiled at her before continuing his earlier train of thought.

"Oh, I mean, you shouldn't have. I mean, all this work… just for me?" he said, half-joking, half-serious.

Shaking her head, Brennan said, "What? No, I mean. It wasn't that much."

Booth lifted his fork and considered her causal dismissal of his question. He swallowed a sigh and grabbed a fork full of mac and cheese. Bringing it to his mouth, as soon as Booth tasted the creamy warm concoction, he immediately felt a significant wave of pleasure wash over him. He closed his eyes for a minute, savoring the wonderful flavors, letting the tartness of the sharp cheddar cheese that Brennan had mixed with a softer and smokier provolone cheese roll over him. Not realizing that he had let out a small moan of contentment, Booth immediately came to the conclusion that he didn't really care when he opened his eyes to see Brennan looking at him expectantly.

Grasping his fork, he held it in mid-air, as he reemphasized how happy her culinary masterpiece had made him. "Mmmmm."

Immediately, Brennan relaxed and seemed to blush a bit at Booth's sigh of approval.

Nodding at her, his grin widening as he chewed another mouthful, Booth said, "This is unbelievable."

A bit of hesitation creeping into her voice, Brennan asked, almost shyly, "You like it?"

Uncertain as to why Brennan would be nervous about anything she did, Booth nodded again. His dark brown eyes twinkling, he then tilted his head as he laughed, "I'd like to be alone with it."

Perhaps he stopped and held her gaze because of the insecurity that Booth though he sensed in her voice. Insecurity over- well, Booth wasn't quite certain exactly what – wanting to impress him? Or, maybe, wanting to… please him with her cooking skills? Booth almost pushed the thought aside as too feminine, too… *domestic* to apply to Brennan. But, looking at her, watching Brennan as she stared at him with this look that was part expectant, part nervous, part hopeful, he stopped as he suddenly realized… Brennan was analyzing him. Why would she think that I wouldn't like whatever it was she made for me? Booth wondered. It's not like I'm all that picky an eater, anyway… so what does it matter? What am I missing here? What's the big deal?

At that particular moment, Brennan decided to choose the most inopportune of instances to be her densely literal self as she said interrupted Booth's inner monologue. Glancing back at her, Booth noticed that Brennan's look had shifted again. Apparently, she had seen something pass over Booth's face that had resulted in her coming to some sort of decision. Her assessment made, Brennan arched an eyebrow at Booth and said, "So, is that comment your way of communicating to me that you have a sexual fetish about food, Booth?"

Booth almost choked on the bit of macaroni that he had been about to swallow. As he began coughing, turning a slight red from his partner's question more so than the actual food partially caught in his windpipe, Brennan quickly stood up and began to sharply pound on Booth's back.

"Bones," Booth gasped as she continued to hit his back. "Quite it! What are you doing—"

As he twisted around in his seat, Brennan dropped her hand, concern clearly evident on her face as she said, "Are you okay, Booth?"

"If you'd stop hitting me, I would be, yeah," Booth grumbled.

Frowning, Brennan returned to her seat, and Booth grabbed his beer. Taking a sip, he watched Brennan for a few seconds and then said, "Now, why were you hitting me, Bones?"

"It appeared," Brennan began, "that you had somehow managed to lodge a piece of food in your esophagus, effectively blocking your intake of air. I was attempting to help you clear that obstruction so that you wouldn't choke to death, Booth."

He stared at her for a minute, and then said, "Oh. Uh, thanks, Bones- I think."

"You're quite welcome, Booth," Brennan said with a smile. Picking up her own fork, Brennan resumed eating her macaroni and cheese. Again, Booth watched her. She waited until she was certain that Booth didn't have any food or drink in his mouth when Brennan then asked, "So, Booth?"

"Yeah, Bones?"

"Are you going to answer my question?" Brennan replied.

Booth looked at her in confusion as he said, "What question?"

"The question I just asked you," Brennan said simply. "The one about you having a sexual fetish about—"

"Whoa, there, Bones!" Booth said, making a hand gesture for timeout that Brennan didn't recognize. "Okay, now what's it with you and the sex questions, huh?"

"Well," Brennan said, tilting her head at him in curiosity. "When you made the statement that my macaroni and cheese was good enough that you wished to be alone with it, I inferred from that statement your implied desire to obtain some form of sexual gratification from it that you only felt comfortable enough to achieve in privacy. Did I ere in making my assumption?"

At this, trying to see if she was serious or not, Booth finally realized that Brennan *was* serious, and he couldn't help but chuckle. "I don't have a fetish about food, Bones."

"Oh," Brennan said, seeming to deflate at his short statement. "Well, my apologies for making an incorrect assumption."

The way she said it almost made Booth think he had detected just a slight bit of disappointment in her voice. Then, Brennan then looked at Booth, and the look she gave him almost confirmed it, at least enough that he felt comfortable to tease her back… slightly.

"Of course," Booth began. "If this is *your* way of telling me that you have some sexual fetish that you'd like to confess, I'm all ears, Bones." He stopped, and somewhat strangely felt the desire to let his eyes roam appreciatively over her figure. He could tell that Brennan knew what he was doing as her own eyes seemed to darken slightly as she watched him watching her. He nodded in appreciation as he repeated, "I'm *definitely* all ears."

Brennan stared at Booth for a few seconds, and then returned his serve with a volley of her own. "And, if I did have some… sexual proclivities that I wished to discuss with you, Booth, what would your response be to that?"

Picking up his beer, and seeing that it was almost empty, he gestured with it vaguely in the air before he gulped down what little was remaining of the amber liquid. Smacking his lips in appreciation, Booth set the empty glass down on the table and held Brennan's level gaze as he said, "I think my response to that would be, I'm going to need another beer, Bones, because… I'm game if you are."

A slow smile cracking her face, Brennan stood and said, "I've got one in the freezer. I'll be right back."

-TBC-