For all of his merits, he was lousy at relationships. He had to be, how else could he have driven a good woman away? Hannah was brilliant, sexy and charming, she'd won over his friends instantaneously, and for a while, everything was good. In Afghanistan it had been easy, easy to pretend that her voice was just breathy enough when she sighed his name, that her laughter was infectious enough to make his heart skip a beat and her eyes... well her eyes had always been a sticking point for him, her eyes lacked something that he couldn't place. Coming back to D.C. earlier than anticipated had put a strain on them both, and the cracks had begun to show. Yes he was bitter, another failed relationship under his belt, and the past couple of weeks sure as hell hadn't helped with his pissy mood.
She was all but trying to make this as hard for him as possible, their eyes would meet and she would hold his gaze just that little bit longer, she used to be the one to pull away and now he was being forced to. She didn't seem to know what she was doing, remarkably clueless as ever, but he was irked by it nonetheless. She didn't laugh around him anymore, their comfortable and easy camaraderie had all but disappeared. They were polite, professional. God, how he hated that word.
He'd walked in on her and a conversation with Angela last week, the deep throaty laugh spilling from her upturned mouth had floored him, he'd missed it, missed her, but he didn't dare show it. The sparkle in her eyes seemed to disappear as she noticed his appearance in her doorway and an awkward silence filled the places that her laughter had recently occupied. A tight lipped smile was offered in the way of a greeting and an awkward glance towards the artist. He'd gambled one night, a year ago, and he'd lost a lot more than he'd bargained for.
It hurt to think of that night, and yet it occupied his thoughts, filled the dark crevices late into the night when sleep wouldn't come. He was a coward, had he been a better man he would have fought for her, let her have time if she needed it, but he knows he should have told her how he wouldn't give up, because when you say you are going to love someone for 30, 40 or 50 years, that's what you do, you wait. They had missed their chance, they could never get back to where they were, he truly believed that. Until today.
Unable to reach her at the lab he'd gone there himself ready to fully impress his bad mood on her, to say that he was irritated to find out that she had the afternoon off would be a mild interpretation of his current emotions, but it was quickly followed by a fear of something being wrong. She never took time off of work, it would have to have been something important, getting her to eat was a task in itself. Or at least, it had been before when he had taken the time out of his day to ensure that she was eating. The fact that neither Angela nor Cam knew the reason behind her afternoon away from the lab only heightened his worry. On entering her office he noted the cellphone on her desk with seven missed calls, six from him, one from her father, and he made a mental note to call once and leave a voicemail in future. As he set the cellphone back on her desk he noticed the desk top calendar next to her monitor, today's date circled in red causing him to frown in confusion.
"Maybe she had a date."
He turned to the Artist, her swollen stomach the first place that his eyes landed before moving up to her face which unusually appeared to be blank. "Maybe."
"She's a big girl Booth, she can take care of herself."
Glancing back at the calendar he sighed. "I know that Ange.. I'm the last person you need to be telling that to."
Approaching him with a gentle smile she laid a hand on his arm "I know things have been a bit... tense recently. I know that you are hurting because of Hannah and the bre-"
His eyes shot up then to meet hers "Don't. Don't bring that up, that's the past Angela and it has nothing to do with whatever is happening with us all right now."
"Us all?" Her hands settled on her stomach protectively, she let out a soft sigh. "Booth, whatever is happening is only happening between you and Bren. You both left, and you've lost your bearings a little, you just need to find your way back to one another, that's all. Without you both, this team falls apart." Taking a seat at Brennan's desk she rested her head against the back and peered up at him. "At the airport, I was sure that you both.. I don't know, I was just sure that you would give this thing a shot, and then there was Hannah and..."
Whatever else she might have said he didn't hear, his eyes had darted back to the calendar on the desk and his eyes softened a little. "If she comes back can you tell her that I need to speak with her, she can call me. I just realised that I am supposed to be somewhere." Not giving her a chance to respond, he had quickly exited the room.
Seeley Booth believed in fate, he believed in God and he believed that love, true love, could last a lifetime. He believed in everything that she didn't, or at least that used to be the case. Standing on the outskirts of the mall he started to question that, because there, sitting on the bench, in front of the coffee cart, one year from today, was Temperance Brennan. Just like that night in the rain, with tequila tainted breath and sweaty palms, he knew.
They had missed their chance, they could never get back to where they were, he'd truly believed that. Until today.