"Bones."
Tension filled his voice making it tight and strained, a hot combination of worry and irritation. He'd woken up in the middle of the night, thirsty, gotten up and padded out to the kitchen, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands, only to find himself staring into her empty bedroom. The door wide open, light streaming out into the hall.
"Bones."
It wasn't that alarming at first. Hell, she could've been in the bathroom or getting a drink or something.
"Bones?"
But, she wasn't. It was a small place, smaller than his apartment and she wasn't anywhere to be found. Not in the house. Not on the porch. Grabbing his shoes and a flashlight, he headed out to search the grounds, parking lot first. If their rental car was gone it probably meant she went back to the dig site, he could live with that. He'd lecture her later about not going anywhere alone. Remind her of the night she'd gotten mobbed at the market place when someone had recognized her from that article the Japanese writer had come to D.C. and interviewed her for.
His shoulders slumped and he let out an audible groan of frustration and worry. The car was there.
"Bones."
There was a hushed intensity to his voice as he followed the paths that wove in between the bungalows and sitting areas, pushing aside an overgrowth of tree limbs and ferns, all the way down to the water's edge. With the car there and her gone anything was possible, and his mind drifted immediately toward worst case scenarios.
"Bones!"
"Booth?" He saw her bolt upright, startled to hear her name in the dead of night, her silhouette backlit by moonlight and the soft glow of candles. "I'm here, Booth."
"What the hell are you doing out here?" He wrestled with the mosquito netting that hung from the limb of a tree like a tent, trying to find an opening to get to her, before finally gathering it up and throwing it over his head and shoulders as he stepped in under it.
"Sitting...enj-"
"It's the middle of the goddamn night." His jaw ticked, pulsing with tension as he huffed out his complaint, working hard to keep his voice quiet, but not hiding the sharpness of his tone one bit. "You couldn't sit inside or on the porch or, I don't know, wake me up t-"
Unwilling to accept his over-protective rant, she stepped right into his space, answering him tit for tat. "I'm a grown woman, Booth. I don't have to tell you every time I leave the apartment. I...I can take care of myself. I don't need yo-"
"I know, you can take care of yourself." He was parroting her, exaggerating her voice and intonation, which irritated her to no end. She was about to answer him when he threw up his hand, shushing her. "Courtesy, Bones, you could have told me out of courtesy. I'm here to protect you, remember? It's kinda my job."
He took a step himself, right into the light of the candles she'd lit, and for the first time in their short exchange she didn't answer. No shirt, soft grey gym shorts hanging low on his hips. The waistband twisted and rolled under on one side like he just slipped them on in a rush. Vans, no socks. He'd been worried about her. Her eyes traveled back up his body, slow and deliberate, and when she spoke there was a little less fire in her voice.
"I was being courteous, Booth. You...you…were asleep. I was letting you sleep."
He took a breath, a long one, and took the moment to look around. She'd been stretched out in a wooden lounge chair, and there was a table near her with a glass and a bottle on it. No books or journals or papers. Just her. That wasn't very much like her, which pulled his attention back to his partner, and for the first time he took a really good look. Sleep shorts that kind of looked like boxers, some kind of tank top with thin little straps, hair down around her shoulders, curly from the humidity, unkempt, no makeup that he could see, standing there barefoot. Anger and frustration melted into worry.
"Are you okay? Why'd you come down here?"
"Booth." She didn't want to answer him, she wouldn't, she decided, folding her arms across her chest in defiance.
He stepped past her, turning the flashlight off and setting it down on the table before picking up the bottle to look at the label. "Scotch. My scotch."
"Booth." She sounded tired, really tired, the worn out kind of tired.
"It's okay, I mean, I don't care if you drink it, you know that." She nodded, arms still wrapped tightly around her, shifting her weight back and forth, watching him intently as he sunk down onto the lounge chair.
She didn't usually drink scotch, she was more of a fine wine kind of person, and he knew they had a couple of bottles she liked in their bungalow. Further evidence she was dealing with something she wasn't telling him about.
Reaching out, he found her hand tucked under her arm and fiddled with her fingers until he felt her relax enough to take it in his own. Tenderly, he tugged until she came and sat down next to him. "Seriously, I know you haven't been sleeping, so...what's going on?" His tone was quieter, concerned, and he leaned closer, bumping her shoulder with her own.
She let out a huff of a sigh, but still didn't answer. Sometimes it felt like he knew her too well, like she couldn't hide anything from him, like every little look or glance gave away her innermost thoughts, which always left her wondering just how much he really knew. She wasn't sleeping. Not that she ever slept well, but since that dance they shared three days ago it was worse.
Her mind had been swimming in unanswerable questions, circulating a thousand what-ifs and maybes. Trying not to read meaning into every little look or act or conversation they shared, but failing terribly. It seemed to her like they were standing closer, touching more, like never before, giving themselves allowances they wouldn't in D.C., and she tried to control it, resist, but she found she couldn't. Which meant something, should mean something, she knew that, but what that was and what to do about it she just couldn't decipher. So her brain, her exquisite, phenomenal brain, worked and worked on the problem day and night to no avail.
"It's okay, Bones, whatever it is, it's okay, you can tell me anything, you know that, right?"
It was a quiet gasp, an uncontrollable sharp intake of air which escaped when he turned towards her, reaching across to tuck a few stray curls behind her ear. Strong and firm, steadying, but so careful and tender at the same time, there was no denying how safe and comforted she felt at his touch. Her eyes fell shut and her heart pounded so loudly in her ears it overwhelmed every other thought.
Settling their joined hands in his lap, his thumb started to rub back and forth over her soft skin as his eyes dropped. They had a natural rhythm, sometimes it was fast paced, sometimes slow and even, but always passionate, even under the guise of partners only or best friends, everything with them ran deeper than the surface showed. Drawing his eyes back up to hers, he waited until hers opened to him.
She shrugged.
And he knew she wasn't ready to talk about it.
Booth looked around "You know, it's kind of nice down here." The deck was on the edge of the water, jetting out into the Mun River. He could hear it lapping rhythmically against the wooden posts. The river was wide, but the moon was full, reflecting across the top as it rolled by. The dark, shadowy outline of trees ran along the banks and stretched out along the water.
He didn't like silence, but he felt like she needed it. He would sit quietly with her, for her. Reaching for her glass, he lifted it, motioning to her before taking a drink. He swallowed hard, pausing while the burn of the hard liquor rolled down his throat.
It didn't take long for her to scoot closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder with a quiet hum. Sitting like this with him made everything seem so simple. It felt natural and easy.
"Things are different between us." It was almost a whisper and there was an undertone of unsurety to her admission. "Not bad." She added quickly.
"True."
"I mean I believe they're better...we're better than right after...you know." She didn't need to add specifics, he knew exactly what she was talking about. Letting that thought hang in the air was almost painful. And while she usually didn't rush to fill the silence, she found the need to this time. "I...I really didn't like Dr. Catherine Bryar."
"Why?" He asked softly.
Turning, she looked straight into his eyes and he was sure she was silently begging him not to make her say it. But, she needed to. He knew she did. She knew it too, no matter how hard it was to admit. And more than that, he needed to hear her answer. She saw that need and watched as he swallowed hard in anticipation. For him, for him she would let herself be vulnerable, only for him. Turning to face the river, she spoke quietly.
"She made you laugh." There was a sadness in her voice, a painful truth given voice.
Booth moved and at first she thought he was moving away from her, but he wasn't. Turning on the lounge he leaned back, encouraging her to settle between his legs and lean back against his chest. She looked skeptical at first, he watched her wrestle with the decision, her lip rolling between her teeth as she considered whether to afford them such an intimate position. But she needed that connection with him, that intimacy, at least it felt like she did. Pulling her legs up, she came to rest against him, sighing contently as the weight of his arms fell around her.
"Jealousy." She wiggled a little more after the confession, craning her neck to see his reaction. "I was jealous. I didn't want anything to change between us, that's why I said no, well, that was one of the reasons. I didn't want to risk how that could end." She was confident she would mess things up, that she would hurt him and when she did, things would end between them. She wouldn't just lose a lover, she'd lose her partner, and more, much more, her friend, her best friend. "And I understood that you would have to move on, I did, but I didn't account for how I would feel when you started dating other...other..."
"Women," he finished for her, giving her a simple nod. "I understand."
"You do?"
"Well, yeah. It was hard for me to hear about your dates too." Rooting in a little closer, she felt him tuck into her, tightening his hold.
"You don't like Andrew?"
"No. No, I mean, he's my boss, right? And, well kind of a goob, but he's okay. What I don't like is the idea of you and Hacker...together...but it could've been anybody, Bones. I don't like the idea of you with anybody." He chuckled a little at himself and moved so he could see her better. He looked so serious. "Nobody's good enough for you."
She was about to argue but fell silent, shutting her mouth before she said anything. That's the way it had always been with him, her choice of men had always fallen short in Booth's eyes. Although, she figured it was just part of his protective nature, his need to be the alpha male, not his own desire to be with her.
"Besides, Bones, I wanted it to be me." Honest. She was being honest, and he would be too.
"I'm sorry. I was trying to make things better. I thought if I were dating it would help you move on...but...but...it didn't work, not like I thought it would. And now...now…" She stopped short and even though he waited for her to continue, she didn't.
"Now." He added with a sigh.
This was what was keeping her up at night, the now, and not just the now, but also the future. He knew this conversation was inevitable, but talking about it stirred up a whole mess of memories and fears he'd been holding back.
He'd thought he was going to lose her completely after the Gravedigger's trial. More than a little time, that's what she'd told him, it might take more than a little time, and he'd put her in a cab. Seeing her there, staring back at him out the back window, felt like so much more than just a simple goodnight or goodbye, it had felt dangerously permanent.
He hadn't heard from her for a couple days. It had been hard, almost impossible, but he'd known he needed to give her some space, time and space. And then it was lunches as usual, but not normal, there still had been a gap sitting there between them, an awkwardness. Until one day she'd appeared in his office doorway tapping on the metal door frame, standing outside the threshold as if after all these years she had needed to be invited in.
That had been hard. Gave him good reason to pause.
It had worried him.
"I have the opportunity to join an ongoing dig in Ban Non Wat, Thailand." She'd said before she even stepped into his office. Waiting for a response, she'd paused and watched him carefully. He only remembered bits and pieces after that. He'd stood as he motioned for her to come in, pacing, moving files around his office, keeping his hands and body busy as her words had swirled around him, knotting in the pit of his stomach.
A renowned archaeologist from England. Ongoing dig. Her expertise. Good for the Jeffersonian. Her eyes had followed him, he'd felt her searing gaze.
"I accepted."
He'd stopped.
His eyes had darted over her, but he never let them connect.
"They have unearthed countless graves, well...not countless," her own nervous laugh had interrupted her. "They have counted them, but that's not the point, the remains appear to be from the Neolithic, Bronze, and Iron Age, remarkably undisturbed, it's really quite fascinating." Another low laugh had been followed by silence.
A vacation, he was the one who told her she needed some time off, but he distinctly remembered telling her to go sit on a beach, lay in the sun, have a few fruity drinks. This was not that, not at all. This threatened to steal her away. His worries, her explanations, had seemed to get louder and louder, filling his brain, making it hard to think.
Back to her roots, she'd said that. Away from crime, away from him, she didn't say that, but it was implied, at least he'd thought it was. If she went, reconnected with her love of ancient remains, one week could turn into two and then three, then more until he lost her completely. He'd swallowed hard against the tension in his throat and opted for a joke, hoping to hide his fear.
"I think we need to revisit the concept of a vacation, Bones, because that's not it, that's work."
A working vacation, that's what she'd called it that day in his office and he'd let out a scoffing laugh in response. In his mind, you were either working or on vacation, not both, not at the same time. Although, at the moment, lying there under the starry skies of Thailand with his beautiful partner in his arms, he could definitely see the merits of it.
The whole time he'd been thinking he'd had one arm draped across her chest, his hand resting on her shoulder, while his other arm lay comfortably around her waist. Round and round, slow and even, his fingers had been rubbing tight circles absently across her shoulder and waist. Somewhere in all their little adjustments, folding in closer to one another, her camisole had edged up and now his fingers were meeting bare skin. Her sweet sigh of satisfaction brought him back to her.
He hummed, turning his head to press a kiss on her forehead. His whole body relaxed. Content. This wasn't bad. Things were good between them, better than ever. There were possibilities, he saw them, a future, he just hoped she saw it too.
"Now...now is whatever happens next. It's up to us, Bones, you know, it can be whatever we want. Whatever you want. So you tell me, what do you want now to be?"
Evidence, she liked evidence, and it was stacking up with every interaction.
A quiet afternoon where he got down in the trenches next to her and let her teach him about keyhole excavation and step trenching. Her hand on his, guiding him as he helped her brush centuries of dirt away from remains adorned with rows of shell bangles preserved in the ground, still wrapped around the long thin bones of a woman.
The way he took his handkerchief out of his pocket, carefully dousing it with cold water and gently dabbing it across her forehead and neck when he thought she was getting too hot. Or brought her water or a snack, silently reminding to take care of herself.
The look in those deep brown eyes when she'd catch him watching her, not as her protector, not as his assignment or partner or even his friend. This look was something different, there was an element of adoration. He'd smile, knowing he'd been caught but looking very much as if he didn't care, and he wouldn't look away.
Walks through the street market hand in hand. Long talks, laughing together, the way he teased her or gently taught her about some aspect or another of human nature. Kisses, on her forehead or cheek, never on the lips, although there were times when it felt like he was going to and he stopped, they both just stopped.
It would be so much easier if her mind was filled with just those wonderful, exciting changes and nothing else, but it wasn't. Every beautiful moment she considered was countered, as she rehashed all the times she'd almost lost him. Not because he left, she knew he wouldn't do that, wouldn't betray her in that way. He'd proven himself over time. But, there was more than one way to lose him.
The Catherine Bryars of the world, smart, attractive, strong women, who weren't as awkward or complicated as her. Women that weren't as stubborn, that would give him a marriage and a family, things she wasn't sure she could, things he deserved. And then there was their job. It was dangerous. He'd been shot at, kidnapped, chased, fought, all in the line of duty. And his health. He could've died in that surgery for his brain tumor or worse, as she feared when he finally woke and didn't know who she was. To lose him because he didn't remember her, that might be the hardest loss of all. To be nothing to him after being everything.
She physically shuddered at the thought.
He pulled her in closer as if he knew she needed to be reminded that he was there with her, not lost.
"I like this." Her hand drifted along his with just enough pressure to let him know she wanted to be close to him like this, to keep him right where he was.
"I like it too." He reassured her, pressing another kiss on the top of her head, because he could, because she was letting him.
This is what he envisioned thirty or forty or fifty years would look like with her. Not some radical change, nothing different from what they were, just more, more of everything they were to each other.
"You know, Bones, maybe we should just let what happens next happen instead of working so hard to stop it or make it be something it's not, and, well, just see where it goes."
At that she sat up, pulling away from him just enough to spin around and face him. He sat up too, letting his hands run down her arms until he was holding both of hers. Her eyes darted across him, down to their joined hands, back up to his deep brown eyes, giving him a solid nod of approval before answering aloud.
"Yes. Yes." She took another breath, leaning forward so she could let her forehead rest on his, her eyes fixed on the gap between them. He could feel her thinking and let the silence linger between them because it seemed like there was more she wanted to say. Seconds felt like minutes, maybe more, and then she pulled back, finally letting out that breath, a spark in her eyes. "Does this mean I can kiss you now?"
She was sure she heard him growl softly before whispering a confident yes. Drawing her in closer, his hands came up, fingers slipping through her soft curls, brushing them back off her shoulders before cupping her face in his palms and pulling her into a kiss. First light, their lips barely touching, then firmer, then open, capturing her satisfied hum. It was new but familiar. Satisfying, but not enough, never enough. He pulled back watching carefully for her reaction.
"I liked that very much." She whispered as her hands slid down his bare chest to his waist, fiddling with the waistband of his shorts, flipping and straightening until it was flat and even all the way around. "Do you think we could do that again?"
Booth chuckled, low and soft. "Well, yeah, of course." He answered before she pushed him back against the lounge, her lips capturing his.
ooooo0ooooo
A/N: Thank you for your patience in waiting this chapter and all the support and encouragement I've received over the months. I am SO grateful for it. It's kept me sane and motivated to keep writing, even if it was just bits and pieces here and there. Thank goodness for prednisone! My doctor tripled my dose for a week and I feel almost human! I've finally been able to sit up longer and get some stuff done!
I'm not going to lie, though, I've been really nervous about my writing. I am definitely rusty. I think I do better when I can just sit down and write for long stretches. That hasn't been the case with this chapter. I've written a paragraph or two at a time with, I kid you not, over at least eight different documents, each a different way to tell what happens in this chapter.
I would really love your feedback on this chapter, thoughts, feelings, anything! So, please leave a review!
With this chapter up, I'm going to turn my attention to Sound of the Sea and hopefully get another chapter of that one up here soon! Here's to hoping the extra boost from the prednisone lasts for awhile!
Also, I wanted to give a special thanks to Faithinbones and Chosenname for feedback and editing help! They quieted a lot of this nervous writer's fears! Chosenname deserves a medal of honor for straightening out my verb tense alone!
Much much love and many hugs
~DG
