Title: Beyond the Fear
Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine.
Rating: T.
A/N: Thanks for the continued support! I am so glad everyone is enjoying my chapters. I won't be posting now until probably Monday evening or maybe Tuesday due to work. But I hope you enjoy this, anyway.
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"Oh," Angela exclaimed, hurrying along the corridor after Brennan as soon as she noticed her friend arrive. "Tell me everything." Temperance adjusted a stack of papers beneath her arm, her strides wide and urgent.
"Can I take my coat off first?" she asked dryly, rummaging in her pocket to locate her office key. Behind her, Angela shifted from one foot to the other, almost dancing like an eager puppy. Inwardly, Brennan found her nosiness quite funny. "There's not really much to tell, anyway," she lied.
"That is so you," Angela said, feigning annoyance. "Understating everything – making it out like nothing is a big deal. Sweetie, you were a recluse in Virginia…" Brennan turned, pressing her finger to her lips, urging her friend to lower her tone. Angela was immediately apologetic. "Sorry," she whispered, wincing at the sound of her own voice. "I forgot, the walls have ears. Are we keeping your rural rendezvous a secret, then?" she asked.
Finally getting the door opened, Brennan slipped inside, breathing in the familiar scent of her office as she flicked on the lights, casting her gaze across her belongings, checking that everything was exactly as she had left it. Satisfied that someone with a master-key had not been rummaging through her work, she dropped her files on the desk, unbuttoning her coat. As Angela closed the door, she smiled to herself. "Not a secret," she said at last. "However, I'm not advertising it." She and Booth, on the journey back into DC, had talked idly about how they both needed a change of clothes, how sad it was that work was unavoidably always going to be lingering in the background and eventually they discussed their 'back in DC' strategy. It seemed right to discuss it then, for the sun was shining and the storm was over. It was time to return to normal life, and she felt refreshed, confident about it. "I told him," Brennan said, draping her coat over the back of her chair. Angela sank unto the couch.
"Him?" she asked, as though she just wanted to hear Temperance say who she was sharing a room with in Virginia. Unwilling to waste time, Brennan gave in.
"Booth," she said patiently. "I told Booth that I wasn't going to be sneaking around, stealing moments in closets or anything clichéd like that." Angela chuckled, crossing her legs. Her eyes twinkled, and Brennan knew she was in her sexual innuendo element. "But I'm hardly likely to be announcing eternal love from the rooftops, either." She wasn't the type to become overly dramatic. While her friend might have been bursting at the seams to inform everyone of the new developments in her relationship with Booth, Brennan was more than content to keep her private life private. "For now, though, I need to check my mail." Angela took the hint.
"Alright, sweetie, I'm going. But we'll do lunch… I want all the dirty details." Brennan flicked on her computer, a whirring sound filling her office as the machine sprung to life, awakened from a two day slumber – the longest since she'd taken residence of the office. "When is your next dirty weekend?" Brennan sighed, dropping into her chair with a heavy thud.
"We weren't away over the weekend," she said, "and we have no plans to do so, either. Booth and I," speaking as though they were lovers was almost surreal, and she paused, letting the combination of their names, joined together in an altogether different context, linger. "Booth and I," she repeated, "are more than willing to move through this new territory slowly. We have no rush." Angela pressed down on the door handle, her hip against the frame.
"No rush?" she asked, as though not altogether convinced.
"No rush," Brennan confirmed with a definite nod. "Our time in the guest house was blissful, but I have a job and a career that I'm not going to put on hold for a new found relationship. What we have is… comfortable." Angela wrinkled her nose, opening the door now, hovering between the office and the corridor. Brennan sensed that she would stay as long as she could, pillaging information.
"Comfortable is a synonym for boring," she said. "It's the polite way of saying that something has gone stale." Brennan clicked her tongue, shaking her head.
"No," she said, "comfortable, by definition, means that our relationship is devoid of awkwardness. That we are secure in the knowledge that we don't need to turn companionship into something that it is not." Angela dropped her hand to her hip.
"And what is it not, then?" she asked. "Passionate?" Brennan felt heat rise on her cheekbones, and she shrugged. "I knew it would be. There was no point denying it. Don't you want it to turn into something grand? A whirlwind romance?" Temperance typed her password, listening as the computer chimed the trademark Microsoft tune, and loaded.
"I don't believe in whirlwind romances. They don't last, despite what people might say. I'll stick with comfortable, thanks." Angela huffed in frustration, knowing instinctively that she wasn't going to get anywhere with her friend, especially not where impulsive emotions were concerned.
"Fine," she said. "But if he does something crazy, like propose to you in two weeks, you better accept." Brennan laughed.
"You're insane, Ange."
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"Temperance Brennan, our colleague, is actually sticking this out and not running for the hills?" Hodgins poured steaming water of green tea, shaking his head. "Has Jupiter come into funny alignment this week?" Angela whacked his arm with her sketchbook, smiling anyway.
"As unbelievable as it may sound, yes. She's actually 'taking it slow'. Her words, not mine. Me? Personally I'd rather be whipped into a rollercoaster frenzy, tossed about like God-knows-what, never quite sure when the exhilaration is going to stop." Hodgins cradled his cup between his hands.
"Jeez, Angela, you make your relationships sound like an orgy." She winked at him, and he smiled. "I think I understand what she means, though. Wouldn't you want to savour each moment, if you thought something was for real? I mean, whirlwind romances exist purely when you're afraid time is of the element. Taking it slow is a sign that… well… she thinks he's for keeps." Angela dropped her chin to her palm, contemplating his words. "What this tells me is, Brennan's imagining something long term and you," his eyes met hers, "you've never had anything that lasts forever." Angela made a face.
"Ick. Love lasts only as long as there's money on his credit card." Hodgins chuckled.
"Lucky about my black American Express card, then," he said and she frowned. Slipping his hand into his pocket, he removed his wallet. She watched as he removed the small plastic card, passing it across the table to her. "No credit limit," he whispered as though it were a secret. "And for that, baby, love lasts forever."
"Am I interrupting a party?" They both spun, finding Camille at the top of the stairs, watching them with blatant curiosity. Jack dropped his hand to the counter, slipping his credit card back into his pocket. If Camille Saroyan knew he was in fact superior to even her, she would probably be more than just a little inconvenienced.
"Parties? A work? No way," he said. Camille frowned.
"Where's Dr Brennan been?" she asked, her eyes shifting towards Brennan's office door, tightly shut. She'd been inside all morning, catching up on emails, reports and telephone calls. Every time Angela peaked inside, she had her head bowed, and her forehead was creased with concentration.
"She's been away?" Angela asked, feigning ignorance. Hodgins squeezed his eyes shut, mentally preparing himself for Camille's disbelief.
"Oh come on," she said, "Brennan works every day, including Sundays sometimes, and she's been away from the office for the longest amount of time in her entire career. Has she found a man?" When neither Jack nor Angela denied it, Camille smirked a little. "It's about time. That woman needed to get some." Angela grinned, slipping her pencil into her hair.
"I know!" she exclaimed. "You were rooting for them, too? I have to say, Dr Saroyan, I thought you'd be the last person to be on the Bee-Bee band-wagon." Camille frowned.
"The what?" she asked. Behind her, Zach climbed the stairs, carrying a cup of tomato soup.
"You know," he said, "The Bee-Bee wagon. It's Angela's affectionate name for those who root for Brennan and Booth. Needless to say, Angela's life is somewhat empty in the relationship department, so she projects her frustrations unto others." Camille's eyes darkened and she shifted, her hand resting on her hip. "So is it confirmed then?" Zach asked, stirring the thick creamy soup. Angela nodded.
"I think so. Apparently they're not advertising it – but they so did it." Hodgins nudged her as Camille spun, swiping her card as she descended the stairs. Angela frowned.
"I don't think Dr Saroyan is a member of your group, Ange," he said. "And I think you've just made things very difficult for Brennan."
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A little bit of a Squint-centic chapter. Booth will be back in the next chapter. And there'll be hell to pay, now that Cam knows what's going on. Let the games begin!