Title: The Center will Hold
Spoilers: Up to early Season 3
Disclaimer: Not mine. If they were, there would be a shirtless David Boreanaz in every ep. Seriously. Every one.
A/N: Thank you all so much for reading this story. The reviews have been fantastic throughout and that's what kept this baby rolling. I hope everyone enjoys the ending. There will be a short epilogue to follow.
"Booth."
"We got him." Sam didn't have to elaborate; Booth knew exactly what she was talking about.
"How? Did he roll on your guy Hannery? Did you tie him to the Phan family and Ritchie Nguyen?"
"Easy big guy. One question at a time. First, we traced the chemicals Dr. Hodgins found in Dr. Brennan's car to a chemical supply company. Our guy works there. Second, the trace we put on Hannery's calls from prison established the connection between them – looks like they worked together on the other three explosions we think were jobs for the Phans. I had Hodgins go back over the trace at the warehouse and he found the same chemicals - there's our link to Ritchie Nguyen. Now we need to get him and Hannery to roll on the Phans, and we have them for Ritchie's murder and a list of other things. It looks like they wanted Dr. Brennan out of the way because they knew she and your 'squints' would tie everything together."
"Is this just for my information or are you letting me in on the interrogation?"
"Booth… you know I can't do that. This isn't your deal."
"Yes, this is my deal, Sam. Bones is my deal." He was trying really hard not to raise his voice.
"And you're sticking to your story about being just partners, huh?" Sam couldn't help but laugh a little at him. Men were so clueless sometimes.
"Sam, we've been over this, remember? Bones and I have a close but entirely professional relationship." Booth actually sounded like he believed it – score one for him.
"Booth, Big Mike and I have an entirely professional relationship. You and Dr. Brennan are another animal entirely."
"Big Mike? You call your partner 'Big Mike'?"
"He was on the Bears O-line for 5 years, Booth. He's six foot four and weighs nearly three hundred pounds. If he wanted to be called the Great and Powerful Oz, who am I to argue?" Sam wasn't fooled by Booth's change in subject for one minute, but decided to humor him. He'd had a rough few weeks.
"Speaking of the big guy, where has your partner been these last couple of weeks?"
"Knee surgery. That's why I'm up here in D.C. borrowing you and your partner, because my own is on crutches – very large crutches."
"So … you're letting me in on the interrogation? You know, to help speed things up so you can get back to Atlanta?" Booth thought his smooth change of subject would fool her into agreeing. He knew Sam was ready to go home to her husband and kids, not to mention her ginormous partner.
"Very nice try, Seeley. You are still as slippery – I mean charming – as ever. Thankfully I have built up my immunity over the years."
"Sam …"
"Listen, why don't we meet halfway on this? I can't let you in on the official interrogation, because this thing has to be airtight and you are seriously too close to it…"
"I should be in on the interrogation, Samantha." His voice was hard and tired.
Her voice softened when she answered, "You are too close, Booth. Too close to the case, and too close to her. I know it was horrible, watching your partner almost get blown up – watching someone you care about almost get blown up – but you have to trust me on this. I can get this guy and bring down the rest of the operation, if you just power down a little, okay? Meet me downstairs in thirty?"
It was more than most would have offered him, and he knew Sam was being a good friend, so he gave in.
"I'll be there."
The hot water pounded his back as he leaned both hands on the tile under the nozzle. He hung his head and let the spray pummel his neck, hoping it would loosen the muscles there. It felt like he had been carrying the weight of the last two weeks squarely on his shoulders, literally.
The last two weeks…
Had it really only been fourteen days since Bones came by his house after visiting her dad? Did he really just realize he loved her, fourteen days ago?
He might have realized it just two weeks ago, he thought as he rolled his shoulders, but he knew he had loved her much longer than that. Probably since he had said, "Spit in my hand, we're Scully and Mulder."
At least this case with Sam Fletcher was over, and they could try to go back to normal. Whatever normal was going to be for them now, he thought. It wasn't as if he could just walk in to her office on Monday morning and say, "Good morning Bones. Hope you had a good weekend. Yeah, mine was good, thanks. Nope, no new case. Just wanted to tell you I'm in love with you, 'kay?"
He laughed humorlessly at the thought. She was already behaving strangely around him, like he was giving off some weird vibe. He was definitely going to have to get a grip. If they were going to work together, he was going to have to get over this. His feelings for her could jeopardize their partnership, and that wasn't a risk he was willing to take.
The water was getting cold, as he turned off the shower and grabbed his towel. His head still hurt a little, but his back and neck were finally relaxed. He was pulling on his jeans when he heard the doorbell.
"Bones...hey…everything okay?" He was surprised to find her in the doorway; it was nearly midnight.
"Yeah, I was just…" she looked uncertain, almost nervous.
"In the neighborhood?" he supplied, wanting to put her at ease.
"No, not really." Trust Bones to not use the easy lie. She still stood in the doorway, not making any move to enter.
"Come on in, Bones, it's cold out there. Have a seat on the couch, can I get you something?"
"No, I'm fine, thanks." She moved over to sit on his couch. Standing there with him scrutinizing her like that made her very uncomfortable. Booth was good at reading people – too good – and she knew he would see a lie written all over her face if she told him less than the truth.
She had been sitting at home on her sofa for two hours, after Agent Fletcher had called to inform her about the arrests. She was so relieved that she could go back to her routine and back to normal, but that left her wondering what normal really was. Was it going to be normal in the lab, hoping and fearing that Booth would walk in the door any minute? Could she act like everything was status quo, on long car rides with him? What about late nights in her office, trying to maintain a professional relationship while eating takeout and falling a little more in love?
She had driven over there to talk to him, but she really had no idea exactly what she planned to talk to him about. She just knew that the time to face the situation was now, as it was always her natural instinct to face everything headlong. Convincing herself that confronting her feelings for Booth was the rational course of action, she had gotten in her car and driven straight over. Now, in his presence, she was beginning to feel a little unsure of this plan.
She heard the clinking of glasses in his kitchen, and knew he would be returning in a few seconds, probably planning to ask again why she was there. That gave her precious little time to decide her answer.
He placed a half glass of red wine on the end table beside her, then sat next to her, his knee not quite close enough to touch hers.
"I thought you could use a glass of your favorite," he explained, gesturing to the ruby liquid, before taking a long pull from his beer.
She smiled slightly for the first time, as she took a sip and realized it was, indeed, her favorite. "I thought you didn't drink wine, Booth," she said over the rim of the glass. She turned a little towards him, pushing their knees close enough to rub against each other slightly.
"I don't. You do." He answered as though this explained everything. Which in his mind it did; when he went in the wine market a few months back and bought four bottles of the cabernet he knew she loved, he never questioned his motivation. At the time it didn't even occur to him that he had never done that for any woman before.
She took another sip, letting it roll around in her mouth as they sat in silence. He knew she wanted to talk about something, probably the case, and would get around to it when she was ready. No matter what other feelings he had for her, he was her friend and partner first.
"I've been having nightmares, Booth. About the explosion." Not exactly what she had planned to say, but it was the truth.
Booth didn't seem surprised, just leaned his head back onto the couch cushion and sighed.
"Yeah, Bones, me too. They'll go away with time. Are you afraid to stay at your place alone?"
"No… I'm not afraid of something happening now. But in my dreams you're the one walking away from the car and you're the one that gets blown up – I'm always at a pretty far distance. Then I can't run towards you, or warn you – it's like I know it's going to happen but I'm frozen in place."
He turned his head to look at her, and could see this was a nightmare she had relived dozens of times. Unfortunately, he was no stranger to recurring nightmares that left you twisted in the sheets, drenched with sweat, your heart pounding.
Her eyes were focused on her lap, where she twisted the hem of her sweater. He wanted to reach for her, to comfort her, to let her know how alive he really was. Instead he lightly covered her hand with one of his.
"I'm okay Bones, and so are you. We got the bad guys this time; we won. It's over." He started to pull his hand away but she put her free one on top of his, trapping theirs together.
They sat there for several moments in silence, his rough hand sandwiched between her delicate ones, and he knew she was struggling for words. For as long as he could remember, he could tell when she wanted to speak and knew that keeping silent was the only encouragement that worked.
She must have made her decision, and it was not what he expected. Abruptly dropping his hand, she stood, placing her glass back on the end table.
"I should go, it's late." Her voice came out a little more forcefully than she intended, and he answered with a raised eyebrow.
"Okay…" he stood as well, confused but riding the storm of Temperance Brennan with practiced ease.
She was nearly to the door, when she turned back towards him. He had been following quickly, once he realized her intention, and was right behind her when she turned. He practically ran into her, stopping a few inches away.
"Your pen, I forgot. I brought it back to you. Jack found it at the scene," she fumbled, pulling the instrument from her pocket. She tried to take a step back from him, but realized the distance to the door allowed only a half-step at best. Her face flushed a little at the closeness, but he pretended not to notice.
He moved as if to take the pen, but instead closed her fingers around it with his own. "It's yours now, Bones."
"But it's your lucky pen…"
"The luck was in keeping you safe. Ergo, now it's yours. You walking away from the explosion was all the luck I needed." He kept his hand carefully wrapped around hers, trapping the pen within her grasp. He tried to keep his tone light, neutral even, but his voice was not complying. It had gotten softer, huskier, against his will. Standing so close he could smell her hair; his body was betraying him, one sense at a time.
She tried to tell herself there was nothing behind his words. Booth, after all, was a sentimental of sorts, and could just be saying how glad he was she – his partner, just his partner - was unhurt.
She was looking down at their joined hands, afraid to look into his eyes… knowing he would see feelings he wasn't meant to see in her own … when he began to trace a circle on the back of her hand with his thumb. She could feel him watching her, as she still looked down, when she heard him whisper her name, her given name.
"Temperance…"
Booth had lost the ability to play it safe. It was as if some force far greater than he was controlling the situation, as he pressed his hand into hers around the pen. As soon as he touched her he knew he was lost. The words came from somewhere deep inside, a place he had been afraid to go, knowing he would likely be going there alone. Watching her, he took in her downcast eyes and felt the faint tremble in her hand, and it gave him the courage to say her name.
She was powerless to avoid raising her eyes to his. Slowly she lifted them, and what she saw there would have taken her breath, had she had breath left to take. Understanding, warmth, need…love… it was all there, burning through her like an open flame.
Her eyes widened as they met his. He knew she saw his heart there, and he held his breath as he awaited her response. Slowly she lifted her free hand to his cheek, lightly rubbing the stubble left by the day. He closed his eyes at her touch, turning into her palm and breathing a kiss there. He turned his head back to face her and saw his own feelings reflected in her eyes. As if in a dream, he reached for her, gently placing his hand on her jaw.
The kiss was achingly slow, painfully sweet, as their lips met tentatively. His hand slid around to cup her neck, and then tangled in her hair, as he pulled her flush against him. The kiss deepened; her tiny moan against his mouth nearly his undoing. The pen … God it was a lucky pen … slid forgotten to the carpet, as she slid her hands up to grasp his shoulders.
They were consumed by their own fire, as he maneuvered them backwards away from the door. The backs of his knees bumped the sofa and he sat, pulling her down with him. Astride his lap, her body ached with need for him, trying to press closer, as he held her hips in a white-knuckled grip. He burned a trail down her neck with his lips as her head dropped back of its on volition, realizing she was an addiction he would never try to overcome. He was lost in the heat of her, when the feel of her knuckles scraping his sides as she tried to lift his shirt, brought him back to a hazy awareness.
"Bones … Bones … wait, darling… wait…" he pulled back from her lips just enough to lean his forehead against hers. He struggled for breath for a moment, holding her wrists down by her side, to still her movement.
"Booth?"
The fear he heard there broke his heart. No matter how successful she had become, how much she had achieved in her life, she was still an abandoned little girl. Before speaking, he took each hand and placed a kiss in the palm, mimicking his earlier action. He never wanted her to fear his rejection, and reassured her the best he knew how. It must have worked, because he felt her relax into him.
"Bones, I have to know something, first. Before this," he gestured between them, "goes any further. I can't be me without you in my life – if this jeopardizes us – I have to know. Be honest."
"We're the center, Booth, remember?" She recalled a long ago conversation, one he remembered immediately.
"And the center will hold?" he supplied.
"The center will hold," she answered.
It was all he needed, before crushing her to him, the last barrier between them swept away.
A/N: If I was a smut writer – and I just can't, I've tried – I think that's where this would have gone. So use your imaginations people! There is a very short epilogue to this, which will be posted soon. Thank you all so very, very much for reading and for the reviews. This was an outstanding experience, and one that I will treasure. I may even be inspired again by our favorite duo – who knows?