What I Wish I Could've Said

By: Lesera128

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 45: The Time B&B Went For A Different Outcome

Even as they walked out of Sweets' office at the Hoover, Special Agent Seeley Booth only heard one sentence echoing in his head again and again. It was like a spell, a chant of some kind. It was almost like a well-known song lyric had gotten stuck in his head, and there was nothing he could do about it to get it out of his head.

You're the gambler.

You're the gambler.

You're the gambler.

It's gotta be you. Because you're the gambler.

It's gotta be you.

Booth suddenly stopped as the cool spring evening weather washed over his face and cheeks. His heart was beating it seemed a thousand beats a second as blood roared in his ears with a dizzying thunderous roar. Adrenaline shot though his body as he turned around and looked at Brennan who had also stopped walking when she realized he had paused in their forward motion.

"I'm the gambler," Booth admitted, for once saying the words with no shame or embarrassment or regret. His dark chocolate brow eyes burned brightly in the pale moon's light as his head tilted while he nodded silently, almost as if reassuring himself.

For her part, Brennan noticed the change in his bearing and body language even as her hyper rational brain suddenly processed the significance. Her brain was just a microsecond ahead of the words that Booth had tumbling from his lips.

God, Booth, Brennan pleaded mentally. Don't do this. Don't say it. Don't say something that neither one of us can take back. Don't push us over the line. We're not… I-I… I'm not ready. Not now. Not today. Maybe never. God, please don't…

"I believe in giving this a chance," Booth told her, pleading with Brennan to understand and even more so to agree. Bones, please.

Brennan suddenly paled as the blood drained from her face. She felt herself go cold, almost numb as feeling fled from her extremities, having the physical response of sickening déjà vu in a way that Angela had once described to her as the feeling that someone had when a person walked over one's future grave site.

No, Booth.. Please, no…

Adrenaline flooded her bearing as she felt her heart explode in her chest, preparing herself for a fight or flight response.

Almost sensing that her inclination was to run, Booth stepped forward, clearing invading her space. The heady sent of his smell, sweat, lemon spray starch of his pressed white Oxford suit, and the menthol of the shaving cream he used mixed with the aftershave she knew he wore. Juniper berries, moss, and geraniums, the rational part of Brennan's terrified mind clutched at as she tried to find an anchor to remain tied to during the impending storm of emotion she knew as about to make metaphorical landfall. The aftershave I bought him for Christmas, Brennan thought. Five years, and he's still wearing the same scent. God, Booth…

He sealed the fate as he said the final words that signed the death warrant Brennan had feared for so long. "Look," he pleased with her. "I wanna give this a shot."

Brennan felt her pulse increasing even as a tiny and scared voice in her head begged her to get away from him as far and as fast as she could. But, like a magnet drawn to steel, she couldn't pull away from him and so she stalled for time.

"You mean us?" Brennan breathed, the painful and scary emotions cloudy her stormy visage. Just as she knew he would, Booth wordlessly nodded.

Quickly, Brennan tried to counter with the only lame excuse she knew she had and that she also knew he wouldn't accept even as the words tumbled from her lips. "No," she protested. "The FBI won't let us work together as a couple—"

As well as she knew what he would say, so too did Booth know Brennan as he immediately volleyed back. "Don't do that," he told her, calling her on the move. "That is no reason why we can't..."

Brennan opened her mouth to cut him off and then the one thing she had both feared and longed for happened. Booth grabbed for her hips even as he invaded her personal space. She was so startled and excited while she initially offered no resistance. His lips crashed against hers in a desperate attempt to get her to not fight him.

Don't be afraid, the kiss seemed to say. Please. Don't fight me. Don't be scared. I've got you. I won't hurt you. It's okay. It's better than okay. Just let me in. Don't push me away, Bones. Let me in. Let me love you.

It took about three seconds for the external physical stimuli to process in her brain. She was instantly torn between two responses…pleasure, happiness, lightheaded excitement at finally feeling Booth's lips on hers in an unrestrained and passionate way that tried to convey to her the depth of the passion and want she'd stirred in him from the very first moment he'd laid eyes on her in the lecture hall in American University six years before. Fight. That was the response. Fighting Booth, fighting the pleasure, fighting the want…but not ending the kiss. The other option was flight. To stop the kiss. To stop them. To end things before they even had a chance to begin. One meant happiness. Fearful abandon. But happiness and lust and love and life. It was warm and vibrant and exciting in a way that terrified her. The other choice meant loss. Pain. Self deprivation. Destruction of her coldly rational and calmly ordered way of life. Her walls would be breached forever more. Gone and over.

Booth…

His name echoed in the moment, even as she knew what that one thought meant. Without a second thought, she latched on to a new life preserver happily throwing away the buoy of logic and discernment that had been her anchor for so long. Instead, Brennan replaced it with a new baseline, with a new constant….him.

Brennan's arms wrapped around Booth's broad chest even as she melted against him, weak with want and happiness and excitement at the possibilities held by the future.

After about two minutes, when oxygen forced the pair apart, Booth finally realized that she hadn't pulled away. Brennan hadn't run away. She hadn't rejected him. She was still there. She was all in…and so was he.

Thank God…

A callused finger came up to trace a line along the firm line of her jaw. The soft skin coasted under his thumb as it followed suit, tracing a proprietary line. His eyes alight with unspoken gratitude, brown eyes finally met blue as she breathed the question in a single word. Her name.

"Bones?"

With a curt nod, tears, not of sadness or fear finally leaked from Brennan's eyes as she tried to blink them away. Booth quickly brushed the warm saltiness away as he breathed her name again.

"Bones?"

Nodding again, Brennan sniffled once as she said gave him a single, simple one-word response that opened the world and the future to them both. "Yes."

His eyes alight with passion and promise and relief made promises to her in that minute that he would later make come true, Booth grinned at her and nodded before he leaned in for another kiss.

-TBC-

A/N: I still feel pretty damn rusty at this. The muse is cooperative and Booth and Brennan's voices are speaking to me, but I feel as if the metaphorical writing quill is rusty and dusty from disuse. I'm doing my best to clean it off. Bear with me as I get into my grove. In the meantime, I appreciate any feedback. Enjoy!