"Nothing. Nothing's wrong." She answered all too quickly. Making a point to connect with his worried brown eyes, she gave him a soft smile.
"Bones."
"I'm fine, Booth, really."
Her mood had shifted so quickly there was no way to ignore the change. One minute they were laughing, chatting back and forth as they ate their lunch under the thick canopy of a 350-year-old banyan tree the natives called Sai Ngam, the next she was quiet and contemplative.
Waiting, Booth took a few more bites. He hoped that by giving her a little time she'd open up and let him know what was troubling her.
"I'm here." He said softly, looking back down at his plate momentarily, then back up to catch her stormy eyes. "When you're ready...I'm here." It was a loaded statement, carrying more meaning than he thought she would understand.
Their conversation lagged, the gap filled by sounds of the park they were sitting in. Giggling children at play. People chattering in a language Booth didn't understand, despite the fact that he'd picked up a few words here and there. The sweet melodic sounds of an old man sitting cross-legged on the ground playing some kind of traditional three-stringed guitar.
She gave him a slight nod, her eyes wide, her heart full of his comforting words. Sucking in a deep breath, she held it momentarily. "I know." And he wanted to believe her answer, like his comforting statement, held more than those two simple words conveyed.
Letting his eyes dart unabashedly across her whole being, he studied her a little longer. Deciding, eventually, a change in subject might be a good way to lighten the mood. Holding up a big bite of Pad Mie Moo, a spicy chicken and pork dish with rice noodles unique to Phimai, he began to speak, shaking his chopsticks full of food for emphasis.
"You know, the Thai food back home is never gonna be as good as this." Winking, he popped the oversized bite into his mouth.
"No, it won't." She chuckled. It felt good to hear her laugh again, to see the amusement in her eyes. Nudging her shoulder with his own, he continued as he finished chewing and swallowed.
"The beer, on the other hand, God, it's awful." Still, he grabbed his up from next to him on the bench and took a long pull. "What was that papaya thing you liked?"
"Som Tum," she answered.
"Yeah, Som Tum. It was pretty good, I might eat that."
"Really?" Unable to hide her surprise, her voice rose. Som Tum was basically salad, something Booth usually avoided like the plague. "It's made with fresh green papaya, garlic, Thai chilies…," her words spread farther and farther apart. "Green beans...cherry tomatoes…," until her voice trailed off, her mind wandering back toward other thoughts.
They'd shared food almost every meal since they had arrived in Phimai, just like they did at home, but not the same way. He'd reach out with a bite on his chopsticks, or she would, and they'd feed each other. It felt different. More intimate than back in D.C., and she wondered if that was because they were far away from home and all the hallmarks that helped them keep within their carefully constructed professional boundaries.
It had taken some convincing to get him to try the Som Tum. In part, because she was a vegetarian. In her dish the shrimp had been replaced with tofu, not Booth's favorite, which he'd been very vocal about. The way he'd scrunched up his face in anticipation of the tofu made her laugh, and the bite started to fall as she reached out towards him. She'd barely made it to his mouth and watched with amusement as sauce dripped down his chin. Without even thinking she'd wiped it away, lingering for a moment as her thumb brushed across his lips.
"Can you even get that in D.C.?" Shaking off the intimacy of the memory, she shrugged. It felt to Booth like he was fighting to keep her there with him, but she kept slipping away. "That's the one they crush in the big bowl, right, with the...that wooden club thing? Even if we can find it, bet they don't use that in D.C., not sure the health department would let 'em." He chuckled.
"Mortar and pestle." Shaking her head a little she paused and looked back at him, skeptical, trying to figure out if he was feigning ignorance to humor her.
"Right. Mortar...and pestle." He said definitively. Watching them make the food in the street markets was fascinating, although he found it best not to think too hard about how unsanitary it was compared to restaurants back in America. "I've never seen one that big." Old, banged up wooden bowls with thick, heavy pestles were everywhere, almost all the food carts used them. The wear and tear of years of use gave them a kind of history and character Booth respected. "And the barbecue, God, I'm gonna miss that. And that green rice krispie treat thing we got the other night, the one with the peanuts and...and…"
"Sesame seeds."
"Yeah, that's it...sesame seeds, that was good, right? Bet you can't get that back in the States." She nodded in agreement.
"Probably not….I'll miss the Coconut ice cream." She added, with the first real hint of excitement in her eyes since her sudden mood change. "Although, I'm fairly certain I can find that at one of the Asian markets in town."
"You do like your coconut ice cream." She'd eaten it almost every night.
"I do." She affirmed, smiling. "I never had it before this trip."
"Really?" He nudged her a little to bring her eyes to his, filing away a plan to find it for her when they got back home.
"Yes." Falling back into silence, he watched as she sat pushing the last vestiges of chili stained rice noodles, bits of Chinese broccoli, and a few bean sprouts around her plate.
"Well, take out won't be same, but, you know, it'll be a good reminder of this trip, right? We can order in when we're neck deep in a case or finishing up paperwork late at night and think about those Khmer Temple ruins you took me to this morning, all the stories you told about how they carved into the sandstone to keep their history and scare off their enemies. Or maybe about this, us sitting here, just the two of us, under this big, old banyan tree with its, what, thousand trunks and crazy roots, in the shade, and remember how we were dripping with sweat and laughing about how different take out was going to be when we got back home."
His voice softened as he spoke, weaving a story of them here and there. Almost lyrical, it pulled her in. Their eyes caught and held momentarily, and he saw it, a flash of something deep and soulful that she was wrestling with, and he wondered if somehow her change in mood was about him. Her heart raced, her breath was shallow and quick, and when she spoke it was soft and decidedly sad.
"I was thinking about happiness," she confessed, her voice barely a whisper.
"Happiness?"
"Yes. Happiness. It's a complicated concept, not easily defined, not quantifiable by any scientific standard."
His eyes softened. "No, no, I guess it's not."
"Love, laughter, friendship, purpose. That's what you said happiness was."
That took him back. The look in her eyes when he'd said he wished she could find happiness and she'd said she didn't know what that meant, he'd never forget that. It damn near crushed him, he wanted that for her, she deserved it, earned it, and he wanted more than anything to be the one to give her that.
"Well, yeah, that's part of it."
"But that's not the actual definition of happiness." Pausing, she held her breath momentarily.
"No, I guess not technically."
"I have purpose." Booth nodded. "My career as a forensic anthropologist gives me a sense of purpose, my status as a leading authority in my field. And...and my students, my interns, my work as their teacher, passing on my knowledge to them, that gives me a sense of pride and fulfillment also. But, happiness? I'm not sure."
His mind raced for a way to explain it to her that she could understand. It wasn't that she'd never felt happiness, he knew that; it was that she didn't know how to recognize it.
"The books I write, although obviously more frivolous, are not devoid of purpose. I continue to write them because I'm able to pass on my knowledge of forensic science to my readers. I feel that's significant. And...and our work together, our partnership has been quite successful. That's quantifiable, the number of murders we've put away. And while there's no way to measure how many lives we've saved by doing so, I'm sure the numbers would be significant."
"Well, yeah, of course."
"All of those aspects of my life give me a sense of purpose, although I'm not entirely sure how that translates into happiness."
"It's hard to measure, Bones, but, that doesn't mean you aren't feeling it." She nodded in acknowledgment, but when she spoke again she completely ignored what he'd said.
"The word happiness has been used for centuries, since the early 1500s. The definition varies widely. It can be anything from contentment to elation, joy or felicity. Pleasure, in both its active and passive forms, falls under the definition of happiness; even bliss, which has a decidedly sexual connotation, is listed under the definition of happiness. That...that is a very broad definition."
"You've given this a lot of thought."
She had.
Ever since that night in the Founding Fathers, she couldn't seem to let it go. Especially during the preparation for the Gravedigger trial when she'd felt surrounded by darkness. It had become an unbearable weight when combined with the long year of worry over Booth's health, the overwhelming confusion her feelings for him evoked, and the aftermath of his proposition on the steps of the Hoover and her subsequent refusal. Happiness seemed elusive at best, unattainable in the wake of the harsh realities of life.
"Yes." She whispered under her breath, quiet but definite. "I have."
It wasn't unusual for her to turn to Booth to understand concepts that seemed elusive to her, and he could there was more she wanted to share by the way she fidgeted uncomfortably, shrugged her shoulders, tilted her head, and let out a huff of frustration before she spoke again.
"I don't feel elated when we solve a case, but I do feel contentment and satisfaction, which would technically fall under the definition of happiness."
"Yeah, yeah, there's definitely a sense of satisfaction there."
"Yes, satisfaction, but happiness?" One of her eyebrows arched up high on her forehead. "I don't know. I don't know if I've ever really felt it." Her voice was quiet and resigned.
"You have. I promise, you have, you just don't recognize it." He gave her a nod and waited for one in return. "When I said those things about happiness, friendship, love, and purpose, I didn't mean it like a definition. It was more like...like...examples, you know, examples of things that make people happy. Like friends, right? Happiness comes from being with them, from the experiences you share...together...with them, like when you and Angela go shopping or do whatever girlie-"
"I'm not a girl anymore, neither is-"
"Okay, woman...woman things you two do together. Or like us doing lunch." He waited for her her to acknowledge what he was saying, then continued with a more personal example. "Like you stealing my fries."
"I don't steal you-"
"It's okay, I like it, it may seem silly, you know, but it makes me happy. It's something we share."
"It's ours." She added.
"Exactly."
"We have many shared experiences."
"Yeah, yeah, we do." Reaching over, he took the foam plate and chopsticks from her and set them down on the bench next to him. Then reached over and gathered up her hand in his, giving it a little squeeze. He caught her eyes and held them, wanting to make sure she felt the impact of what he said next. "You make me happy."
It was a bold statement and he watched her expression carefully, trying to decide if it made her uncomfortable. It didn't seem to. Taking a deep breath, Booth stood and tugged on her hand until she followed. Leading her away from the cement bench they were sitting on, he stepped off the stone path and onto the ground. "C'mere."
"Where are we going?"
"Not far." A couple steps and he stopped.
They were standing in a clearing of sorts, in the middle of tall trunks and roots that looked like tendrils twisting from high up in the trees down into the ground. Light was streaming in from above their heads through a canopy of leaves, casting heavy shadows on the ground beneath them. She looked back over her shoulder at her belongings still piled around the base of the bench, then turned to Booth, whose warm eyes were waiting for her.
Pulling her close, he let one arm wrap around her waist, his hand settling near the small of her back while the other reached for her fingers. Fiddling with them at first, he marveled at the strength he found in her hands, slender, deceptively dainty, sure, deliberate. Today he found them warm, malleable, which was significant to him because she didn't stiffen or resist. Her fingers wrapped around his thumb as his larger hand enveloped hers, and he pulled their hands up between them. They could still hear the music, beautiful, rich sounds of guitar drifted around them in this exotic setting as Booth started to sway to the music.
"Booth." She spoke softly. "What are you doing?"
"Dancing, Bones, I'm dancing with you."
He watched as her eyes darted across their surroundings and back to him. Gently rubbing her hand along his shoulder, she brushed it lightly before letting her arm hook tentatively around his neck.
"The Thai people are quite conservative when it comes to how men and women interact in public. I'm not sure they'd find this acceptable." She closed her eyes momentarily because she knew she sounded stiff and awkward.
"It's just a dance, Bones, it'll be fine, we'll be fine." Her body softened a little in his arms. "You're overthinking it."
"There's nothing to overthink, Booth." She looked confused. "It's a cultural standard, it's not a matter of-."
"No, not that. Happiness. You're overthinking happiness. It's a feeling, right? So, just stop thinking for a momen-"
"I can't stop thinking."
"Yes, you can...You can." He reiterated when he saw disbelief heavy in her eyes. "Remember, brain in neutral, right, just pop it in neutral and let yourself feel."
They were both quiet for a moment, letting the late afternoon sounds of the park fill the air as the streams of light and shadows of leaves danced around them. He could feel her slowly relax in his arms until her head came to rest on his shoulder. It felt good to hold her like this, so good he hesitated to break the spell by talking, but there was more he wanted to tell her, more that he wanted her to understand.
"Friendship, love, whatever you wanna call it, we share that, you know."
"In a professional, attagirl kinda way?"
"More than that...it's more than that between us. I mean, you know, friends love each other, right?" Pausing for a moment he waited for a response that never came. "And...you...you're my friend, more than just my friend, right? I mean, everything's not always black and white, things don't always fit into definitions. And we're different, you know, we're...more." She was quick to agree, nodding. They, whatever that was, the way she felt about Booth, was not easily categorized or defined. "Pops...Pops always says love is what you've been through together and we've...we've been through a lot together."
"We have." She confirmed as her mind raced through their shared history, through countless cases and rescues and late nights. Through hugs and tears, endless bickering and laughs, and confidences neither would ever share with anyone else. "You love me."
They stopped moving. For a brief second the whole world felt like it stood still.
"Yes. I do."
She felt his fingers twitch against the small of her back and watched as his eyes darted from hers, to her lips, and back. He knew she saw it, and his heart raced as she leaned in so close he could feel her breath on his cheek. Swallowing hard, he fought the urge to close the gap between them and kiss her. The last time he did that it didn't end well for either of them. He took a deep breath and started to dance again, pulling her with him.
"Purpose, Bones, friendship and love," Reaching out and up with the hand he still held, he spun her around under his arm, pulled her back in, and dipped her. Squealing in surprise, she laughed, soft and low, and he wondered if she knew what that sweet sound did to him, "laughter and a dance." She was still bent over his arm, eyes glistening in surprise and wonder when he spoke again. "Happiness."
Pulling her up, he gathered her back into his arms and they continued to dance. She settled in, letting her body fall in line with his. Resting her head on the hand she hooked over his shoulder, she took several long deep breaths. Feel, he told her to feel. It was hard for her to let go like that normally, easier wrapped in his arms. Another long breath found her lost in the moment. The firm strength of him surrounding her, the smell of him, a mix of scents uniquely his. The safety she felt when she was with him, it brought her a kind of peace she never thought she'd know. The music drifting on the breeze. The shadows dancing on their joined hands. The days they spent together that stretched backwards into weeks and months and years.
"By your definition, I would have to conclude that I am happy." His whole body pulled her in a little closer and she was sure she felt him smile, which made her smile in return.
"I am too." He whispered against her forehead, pressing a lingering kiss there, "I am too."
ooooo0ooooo
A/N: Thank you for your patience and for all your support and love. I really appreciate it more than I can actually express. This winter seemed to stretch out into a rough spring, such is life, right? I've found so many dear friends here. Thank you also for all the favorites, follows, and reviews. I hope to answer them all at some point. I am way behind. I apologize for that.
Okay...this chapter might not have been what you were expecting. I know it wasn't what I was expecting or what I wanted it to be. I wanted something fun and playful and kind of sexy, but the more I tried to force it in that direction the more frustrated and unproductive my writing became. After about four different chapter starts and lots of wrestling with the story I gave in, stopped arguing, and just wrote what came. This chapter is the result of that. I don't know if it's because where I set the story in the timeline or where I'm at personally. I suppose it doesn't matter. Either way, I'm excited to see where this is going.
Special thanks to faithinbones, chosenname, snowybones, and morebonesplz for their encouragement and insight. And extra thanks to chosenname for her editing expertise.
This is where I shamelessly ask for reviews. Truth is, I love to hear your thoughts on what I've written. They are always insightful and I find them so encouraging and motivating.
Happy Spring wherever you are! Here's to warm weather and the end to cold and flu season...hopefully!
Much love,
DG
