Moments—Chapter 6
Disclaimer: Hmmm…still not mine. But the first season DVDs will be in a few weeks.
Author's notes: Goldpiece, thank you for the umbrella! That green "fruit" juice that BonesDBchippie and Jaed keep throwing at me is starting to eat away the cardboard of my cereal box fortress! What the hell?! (stands up to stick out tongue at Jaed only to receive a tomato directly to the face) I suppose the umbrella thing would work better if I continued to hide behind it, huh?
(waves at Howdylynn) I subconsciously channeled that episode of "Who's the Boss?"!! (LOL) I completely forgot about that until I read your review. The funny thing was when I called "Nick at Night" earlier to tell them to lay off the reruns of that show when I have insomnia, their only reply was "A-Oh, Oh-A"—yeah, years later I still don't get that.
(eats piece of chocolate from Bella-mi-amore and contemplates what exactly is in those fruit slushies) The chocolate was mucho appreciated!
(pulls out large photo of David Boreananz that doubles as a map) Hey Jean, uncharted territory never looked so good, eh? (wink)
And Queen Isabella—You think I'm just a little insane? Only a little? I would increase my daily dosage of crack but the voices in my head are telling me that would be a bad idea…
Okay, the only way to stop the fruit throwing is to continue the story. I've put "A Pain That I'm Used To" on hold since I'm in a little more playful mood at the moment. I'm sure a few days back at work will take care of that…
And by the way, any further descriptions of Booth's assets are dedicated to everyone who reviews because without all of you, I would have no desire to continue this story.
Please read, enjoy and remember to press the little button and leave a review—one word, a paragraph, a novel, anything really.
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"And worse," she whispered hoarsely.
"What?" His brow suddenly creased with worry as he watched her. Brennan's face was flushed as she simply continued to stare at him. Hopefully she wasn't getting sick from walking in the cold rain…
She managed to tear her gaze away from his body and return her focus to the soggy file sitting on the bed in front of her.
"So, uh, yes or no Bones?"
What was the question? Her mind raced to remember the last ten seconds. Instead it leaped back to the moment in her office when Angela had informed her of Booth and Cam's current love affair. The images of him in bed with her boss ceased her physiological reaction to his extremely attractive masculine physique. Television…he wants to watch television.
"I don't care Booth," she finally answered nonchalantly. She felt his side of the bed shift under his weight as he sat down and leaned back against the headboard.
Booth switched on the television and flipped through a few channels. "Let's see, news, weather…gee, wonder what it's doing outside," he said sarcastically. "Aha, Jeopardy."
He placed the remote control on his lap and ran his fingers through his damp hair. "Let's see what kind of geniuses are on here today..."
"I'll take 'Halloween' for 100."
"This Christian holiday also called Hallowmas was created as the day after Halloween to convert people."
"Hmmm." Booth narrowed his eyes at the television when the answer suddenly came to him. "All Saint's Day!"
"What is All Saint's Day?"
"Correct. Pick the next category."
The agent glanced over at his partner and grinned triumphantly. For her part, Brennan was engrossed with the case file.
"This name appears 3 times on a list of the full names of Canada's prime ministers; it's also Canada's longest river."
"Oh come on. Who would know that besides a Canadian?" Booth questioned the television.
"Mackenzie," Brennan muttered.
"What is Mackenzie?"
"Correct. And you pick the next category."
Booth looked over at Brennan who was obviously only half listening to the game show. "Lucky guess," he mumbled.
"A 40 B.C. treaty called for Mark Antony to marry the sister of this Roman, the future Emperor Augustus."
"Ha! I know that one! Who is Cleopatra?!" He sat forward awaiting the affirmation of his knowledge.
"Octavius," Brennan muttered as she peeled apart two more pieces of paper in the file.
He looked over and smirked at her. She didn't know everything about everything…
"Okay, no one hazard a guess for that one…the answer is 'who is the sister of Octavius?'."
"What?!" He leaned back and sulked for a moment. He was currently in competition mode whether Brennan realized it or not.
"Chief Justice No. 1, his 1794 treaty helped settle post-Revolutionary War disputes."
Booth's face scrunched up in confusion. "Who the hell would know something like that?"
"John Jay," his partner murmured as she carefully held up a wet piece of paper and scanned its slightly smeared contents.
"Who is John Jay?"
"Correct. We have less than a minute. Next category."
Booth flipped the channel as he threw a disgusted look at Brennan. It was like watching television with Rainman.
"There's got to be something else on. Let's see here…what cheesy Lifetime movie is on tonight?" he chuckled.
"Damn you Preston. How could you sleep with her? How could you sleep with my boss?!"
Brennan's head shot up as the movie's dialogue sank into her psyche. He watched the color drained from her face as he quickly switched off the television. She stared at the blank screen for a moment longer before letting out a long breath.
He swallowed hard, waiting for her to say something…anything. He had attempted to apologize earlier for his indiscretion with Cam but Brennan had stopped him short, citing the inconvenient moment before interviewing the Stonestreets. The truth was that Booth had decided on that moment so that she wouldn't have an opportunity to verbally eviscerate him or launch into an anthropological rant that could have easily been summed up by the words "men are pigs".
So now he waited. Sitting on his side of the very small queen size bed, Booth held his breath and watched her. He watched as she continued to stare at the television. He watched as anger crackled in her crystalline eyes and then dissipated into…
Hurt? Sadness? I anticipated anger but…Bones is hurt? Oh god, I hurt her? How did I let that happen and not even notice it? Because you were too busy thinking with your other head, dumbass.
"Temperance…" He saw her stiffen at the use of her name. "I think we should talk about…um, Cam and me…"
"I would prefer not to hear about your sexual conquests or preferred positions." She returned her focus to the file in front of her.
Dragging a hand over his face, Booth sighed. "Temperance, I am sorry," he said in a low voice.
He watched as her hands continued to move, pulling wet pieces of paper apart in a futile effort to save the file. It was busy work. A task to keep her busy, providing an excuse to avoid conversation. It was typical Brennan. He reached out and gingerly placed his hand on top of her right hand, pressing it against the folder.
"I know you don't want to talk to me right now but would you please listen for just a minute?"
She remained silent as she stared at his hand on top of hers. Booth briefly wondered if he would have full use of his left hand in a few moments.
"I am truly sorry for what happened between Cam and me. I…I don't know why it happened…well, I mean I know why." He cleared his throat, mentally kicking himself for the lamest apology he had ever issued. "Angela was right about my past with Cam—we were more than just co-workers a few years ago. And a few weeks ago…I was stupid Bones. It was a stupid move on my part. I didn't consider the effect it could potentially have on our cases or on our…" Booth paused as he licked his lips. "Or on us."
Her hand felt cold under his. Brennan had not tried to pull away from him. She continued to stare at his hand—his large tanned hand covering her small pale hand.
"Was?" she asked in a soft voice.
"What?"
"Was? Past tense. You said 'was' as if to indicate you are no longer involved with my boss." Her tone was louder, more controlled.
"Yeah, I ended it. I came to a few…realizations…and I called it off. I promise that there will not be a problem between Cam and the team because of this…"
"Stop making false promises," she whispered as she finally pulled her hand away. Picking up the file and the wet papers, she moved from the bed to the small table and sat down. Distance—that's what she needed from Seeley Booth and it was next to impossible to achieve in their current situation.
Every one of her walls that he had managed to get past in the last year and a half was swiftly being rebuilt before his eyes. What the hell have I done?
"It's not a false promise Temperance," he stated in a low tone. "I don't believe I've ever made a promise to you that I didn't keep."
She had buried herself in the file again, ignoring him, offering no response.
"I know you're angry with me Bones…"
"I'm not anything Booth. I have no feelings about your previous or present relationship with Dr. Saroyan—it's none of my business. If it doesn't affect any of the cases or interfere with the team's work, then why should it matter?" Her eyes refused to meet his as she continued fiddling with the file.
"You have no feelings on this subject?" Booth scoffed. "Really? That's the story you're sticking with?
"It's not a 'story'."
"Oh, it's a story and not a very convincing one. Bones, we're friends, partners, and I know when something is bothering you…"
"Apparently not." She bit her bottom lip to keep herself from saying anything further. Part of her wanted to share her nightmares with him. Brennan knew that if there was one person in the world who would understand, it was Booth. The other part of her was filled with such animosity toward him at the moment that she just wanted him to shut up and leave her alone.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. "Booth, could we please not converse for the remainder of the evening?"
Booth snorted as he turned away from her and grabbed the remote control, switching the television back on. "Yeah, sure. God forbid that Temperance Brennan has a conversation about her feelings on a subject," he muttered.
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An hour later Booth's snoring broke Brennan's concentration as she reached the last page of the file. She had salvaged most of the photographs and Angela would only need to print out a few new ones from the crime scene. Most of the report itself was unreadable but Brennan had managed to memorize the majority of it on the ride to Delaware while she ignored her partner.
She glanced over at Booth who was lying on his back with the sheets pulled up to his waist. His left hand rested on his abdomen while his right hand, grasping the remote, rested on his chest. His dark hair stuck out in several places on top of his head, giving him an almost childlike quality. Watching him sleep made Brennan realize the extent of her own exhaustion.
Gently closing the file, Brennan moved quietly to her side of the bed and switched off the light. She contemplated taking the remote control and switching off the television but she was afraid that she would wake Booth and another argument would ensue. She was tired of arguing. She was tired of feeling hurt and angry. She was just plain tired.
Gingerly climbing onto the bed, she pulled the sheets and comforter up to her chin and settled into a comfortable position lying on her left side, turned away from Booth. Tomorrow would have to be better….
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The gun felt heavy in her hand as she left a whimpering, begging Helen Majors to go in search of Booth. She moved swiftly but quietly through the dark corridors of the abandoned sorting center, the gun growing heavier by the second. A noise that sounded distinctly like a body hitting the floor caught her attention. Her feet, clad in boots, made very little noise as she approached the area. As she glanced around the corner, she saw Lappin holding a large steel pipe over his head and Booth lying on the ground with his right hand in front of his face, awaiting the blow. She tried to lift her right hand but found the weight of the gun was constricting her movement. She watched helplessly as Lappin struck Booth with the pipe over and over until his head was nothing but a bloody unrecognizable mass. Gil Lappin turned around and smiled at her, showing her the blood and brain matter on the pipe. She finally lifted the gun, aiming the barrel at Lappin's chest, firing the small revolver until the chamber was empty. He was dead before he hit the ground, a red river of blood flowing on the floor toward her feet.
"Now you're just like me," he whispered in her ear as he moved her long hair away from her neck. Howard Epps' creepy hands touched her shoulders and slid down her arms as he stood behind her. "You're a murderer Temperance."
"I know," she whispered.
"And it feels so good doesn't it?"
"No!" She sat up straight, sweat covering her face and neck. Her breathing was ragged as her eyes adjusted to the room and the light from the television.
"Bones?" Booth questioned in an obviously groggy state.
He was okay. She had killed Lappin before he had struck Booth with the pipe again. He was okay…
She threw the covers aside and walked to the bathroom. Booth rubbed his eyes and glanced over at her side of the bed. She had been talking in her sleep and then she had yelled. "Bones, you okay?" he asked sleepily.
He saw the light on in the bathroom and heard water running from the sink. Apparently she still didn't want to talk—no, strike that, converse—with him. He groaned and turned to lie on his back again with his left arm tucked under his pillow and his right hand resting on his stomach.
Brennan splashed cold water on her face and then stared at herself in the mirror. You're a murderer. She closed her eyes and shook her head. "No, I'm not. I did what I had to do," she whispered. She told herself the same thing after each nightmare. Logically she was correct in her assertion…in her nightmares though, she remained linked with Epps through blood and gore.
She dried her face and opened the bathroom door, switching off the light. Booth's lean form was bathed in the light from the television. He was breathing softly as she quietly moved back to the bed. He's okay…he's alive. As hurt as she was by his actions with her boss, Brennan was glad of the fact that he was alive.
She pulled the sheets over her body once again and settled back onto her left side. Thunder and rain could still be heard outside of the room as Brennan gradually drifted back to sleep.
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As he moved his right hand up his body to scratch an itch on his chin created by his morning stubble, Booth found a smaller, more delicate hand lying on his chest. His eyes flew open and glanced down at the top of Brennan's head which was securely tucked into the nook of his left shoulder. Her long hair was splayed across his pillow, his shoulder and his arm.
At some point during the night, Brennan had moved to his side of the bed and nestled her body close to the left side of his body, hooking her left leg over his. Her warm breath caressed the left side of his chest as he watched her chest rise and fall.
Booth didn't move an inch for fear of waking her. His right hand now rested on top of her left and the itch on his chin was forgotten. He had managed to wake up in motel room with a half-dressed Temperance Brennan in his arms. While he wasn't stupid enough to believe that his actions had been forgiven, Booth knew that he hadn't completely lost her trust. His day was definitely off to a much better start….
Author's notes: So they're still not entirely okay but at least Booth apologized…in a sincere manner. Um, Jaed, BonesDBchippie, why do you two have slushies in your hands? (runs away to the angst fest of my other story)