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 24: That Time Brennan Didn't Like Booth's Tie

For some reason, each time that Brennan stared at Booth's tie, she felt an illogical and irrational surge of very strong emotion flow through her. The aggressive hostility that the blue-patterned tie evoked didn't make any sense to her until Booth had explained that it was a gift—from Dr. Catherine Bryar, the marine biologist.

As they continued walking through the hotel and chatted about the tie, Brennan was of two minds. One knew she needed to focus on the case while the other kept nagging at her to do something about her ire. I'm not sure what I'm more bothered by—the fact that she gave him a gift, the gift was a tie, Booth accepted the gift and liked it and/or valued it enough to wear it, or the fact that he wore it knowing it has dolphins on it. He knows the significance of what a dolphin is to me, and yet he still is wearing that damn tie that is so ugly and makes dolphins seem tacky. I think I hate Dr. Bryar. Anyone who can find such a horribly tacky representation of the dolphin as portrayed on that tie aesthetically pleasing has questionable taste—unless she *knew* how bad it actually looked, and gave it to Booth anyway, in which case, it's clear she had some nefarious reason for wanting him to be ridiculed. No, none of this is good. None of it at all.

As Cam called out something to her and then climbed into the industrial washing machine, Brennan continued to stare at the remains without actually looking at them. Booth, standing just behind her, still seemed fascinated with the obvious discomfort his tie had wrought in Brennan.

"Hey," he asked Brennan, the confusion still clear on his face. "What's so interesting about my tie?"

Sighing, Brennan knew she'd never get any work done with the remains unless she yanked the tie off his neck, tossed it into a vat of gasoline, struck a match, and watched it happily burn into ashes. Standing up, Brennan said, "Well, a gift is a social contract - a basic anthropological construct. By giving you a tie, Catherine has entered into a social contract with you."

Not certain in Brennan was being truthful or exaggerating her anthropological mumbo jumbo to tease him, Booth asked, "Really?"

Slowly, Brennan nodded. Snapping off her gloves, she turned her head over to where Cam was going through the washer to examine the evidence present inside. "Cam?"

"Yes, Dr. Brennan?" she asked.

"One of the witnesses that found the body is about to be taken away to be treated for nausea with an antiemetic at the hospital. Before she goes, we need to ask her a couple of questions, so we'll be right back, okay?" Brennan replied.

"Sure," Cam called out. "You know where I'll be."

Booth for his part, stared at Brennan in open mouthed confusion as she suddenly spun on her heels, grabbed his hand, and yanked him hard in the opposite direction from where Cam was standing. "Come on, Booth," she grunted.

Still half-surprised at Brennan's odd behavior, and half-curious to see what she was up to, Booth allowed himself to be dragged through a random path of twists and turns until they were quite far away from Cam and the other crime scene techs. Brennan only stopped when she had pulled him into a secluded spot between two industrial strengthen dryers that were graced by a series of carts that held clean bedding in them waiting to be folded. When they finally stopped moving, Booth looked at Brennan with a inquisitive look as he merely asked, "Bones?"

"Yes, Booth?" she asked, immediately looking up at his eyes, although he knew from the forced aspect of her tone that something was bothering Brennan since she was doing everything she could to keep her tone of voice neutral and professional.

"Ummm, why did you just lie to Cam?" Booth asked, pursing his lips in amusement. "A. We already talked to that witness and B. she left the scene twenty minutes ago."

"I-I…" Brennan's voice trailed off before she finally nodded at him. "You're right. I lied."

"I know that," Booth laughed. "What I want to know is why."

Sighing, Brennan said, "I found it necessary to remove us from Cam's presence so as to affect a change that was impeding my work, Booth."

"And, what's that Bones?" Booth asked.

Her lips pursed into a thin hard line, Brennan finally pointed to his tie. "That tie. I hate it."

"Why?" Booth asked. "It's got dolphins on it. You love dolphins. That's why I wore it. I thought you'd think it was cute."

At his words, Brennan narrowed her eyes. "Wait. You wore that tie because you thought I'd appreciate it's aesthetic appeal?"

"Well, yeah, Bones," Booth explained. "You're the only person I know that has a thing for dolphins so—"

"Your choice to wear it has nothing to do with the fact that it was given to you by Dr. Bryar?" Brennan asked. "Nothing at all?"

"No," Booth said with a shake of his head. "Not really." He paused before he tilted his head to look at her and asked, "Why?"

Quickly, Brennan took a step towards him. In a move that strangely echoed how she had begun to undress him on Christmas day after the bombing in front of the bank of rendered Booth a human collection of forensic evidence, Brennan's hands went to his tie and quickly unloosened the knot. Before Booth knew what had happened, she had loosened the tie enough to slip it over his head. Brennan then tossed it as hard and as fast as she could onto the opposite side of the room. Smiling at him, flushed with excitement as she was quite pleased with herself, Brennan's eyes danced with glee. Her breathing with a bit rapid as she explained, "While I appreciate that sentiment, I hate that tie. It's aesthetically inaccurate, visually displeasing, and in every possible way I can imagine quite gauche and tacky. I never want you to wear it again."

Booth narrowing his eyes as he'd felt goosebumps rise at her touch, asked, "All you had to do was say you didn't like my tie, Bones. That would've done the trick."

Coming up next to him, she raised a hand to the collar of his dress shirt. Unbuttoning the top button, she felt him shiver slightly at her touch, a she smiled and gently ran her finger tips along the edge of the portion of his neck that was now exposed. "I don't like your tie," Brennan said quietly. "And, I find I much, much prefer this look than the one espoused by that tie."

"Of course," Booth replied, surprised she recalled his similar words from so long ago, "This is a crime scene, not a bar."

"Then, maybe we need to work to finish our assigned tasks here and find out what happens when you and I can go to a place where your current look is more appropriate and acceptable?" Brennan tentatively proposed.

Booth's hands, very warm and gentle, came up to hers as he lowered them from his neck. His warm brown irises had started to darken in that moment as he said, "You know what you're suggesting, right, Bones?"

"Of course, Booth," Brennan said, as she smiled at him. "Do you?"

"You're not going to wear the jumpsuit, right?" Booth suddenly smiled at her, breaking out into his trademark grin.

Laughing, Brennan shook her head. "Even you're not that lucky."

Wagging his eyebrows at her, Booth said, "Now, we'll just have to see about that, won't we?"

-TBC-