Did you miss me? Well I'm back after a long week at drum major camp, and here you go! The moment you've been waiting for! Smiles all around!
This one is a bit on the shorter side (for me anyway, I usually try to go for around 3000 words, give or take), but I wanted to give you guys something.
Twitter - ObjectiveMiss
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Day 0
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"Booth?" she stepped to him, wrapping her arms about him in an embrace.
"Bones," he tilted his cranium back, allowing her to tuck her to tuck her head under him; his chin rested comfortably on the top of her skull. He, just being FBI agent with the gun, wasn't sure whether he was resting on the frontal or the parietal region. It didn't matter in the end.
"I-I missed you so much," Brennan could not stop the tears from freely flowing from her eyes.
For the first time in an entire year, she felt completed. She felt like a lock that had finally found its key; a puzzle reunited with its missing half. It was as if their bodies were simply made for one another. Of course, this notion was illogical, as human beings were born, not manufactured and subject to quality control standards to be sure that a person would "fit" with another. But, never less, the notion seemed to stick in her mind like plaque in an obese man's blood vessels. Hopefully too many ideas like this wouldn't stick; a stroke at her age would be tragic.
"I missed you too," he kissed the top her head sweetly.
God, how he wanted to step back, pull her close, and capture her magnificent lips in his. But, knowing that he either had to move on, or allow her to play white and move first, a kiss simply did not seem light the brightest idea to act upon.
"I have a lot to tell you," Brennan admitted, pulling back to look into his chestnut eyes, emotion evident from deep within those portals to his soul.
"I have a few things to say too…"
For a moment, she thought that he was going to kiss her; and she to him. It was simply that look on his face; she had seen it many times before, but twice before their lips had actually contacted one another's. Once, it was outside that shady billiards car in the pouring rain. That was perhaps the best kiss of her life. She had to admit, the power of it had scared her, so much that she ran despite the mind numbing pleasure. The second was on that cool evening outside of Sweet's building. Of course, that kiss arguably scared her even more than the first; so much that she pushed him away in the middle of things. She thought that only for a moment though, as the look vanished from his face like criminals from the scene of a crime.
"I'll go first," Booth mentally made sure that both of his feet were planted firmly on the ground. But somehow, this setting didn't feel fit to tell her that he had, (against her obvious desires), played hero and paid the price. "I-"
"Please don't tell me this is what I am assuming this is," she sunk down to the park bench, physically wincing.
"What do you think it is?" he followed her down to sit beside her.
"You found someone else," she spat the last word with obvious disgust. Angela had warned her that he could have obviously moved on by now. It had been a year after all; but who had time to date in the military? It simply didn't seem like it would be effective at all.
"No," the now former Ranger said softly, thankful she had not anticipated his active duty bout. "I-I," she was not in the proper condition to hear his news. He knew it would bring her pain and couldn't bring himself to tell her in her rather vulnerable position. "I have someone living with me for a while."
"So you have found someone else," she said dejectedly. She had been too late, just as she feared.
"Not like that," he assured, "it's a guy,"
"I am not homophobic."
"Not like that!" Booth jumped a bit. Why did everyone always ask if he was gay? "He's a guy I met in the Army; just a friend. His name is Marcus Moore, I think you'd like him. He's a surgeon."
"We've met," Brennan finally looked up, a small smile on her face and mirth in her eyes.
"What?" he laughed in surprise. "Do tell."
"Perhaps another time," she laid her hand over his as a rather blatant sign of affection.
"Bones, why don't we just relax today? We can worry about what we each really wanted to say in a day or two. Okay?"
He knew he was just temporarily side stepping the problem. Like a speeding tetherball, ducking once only spared you from the first pass; the second was destined to smack you in the nose.
"That is perfectly reasonable," she leaned to him, trying just to get closer.
She knew that she was only postponing what she had to say. She loved him. Or rather, she had inklings that she felt for him in that manner. One thing she was sure of, however, was that turning him down and literally pushing him away that evening was a grave mistake; possibly (if she was unable to right it in the future) the most heinous error of all her years of life.
Suddenly, she scooted farther down the bench.
"Why did you back up?"
"For perspective." Respectfully, he eyed her up and down. "You look…different."
"Is that a good thing…or a bad thing?" Brennan felt suddenly unsecure. This was exactly something she was accustomed to.
"…Good," he paused.
The sun had tanned her skin to a healthy brown; the long hours of outside labor had tightened her already lean arms and legs. Her hair was substantially longer; it now easily reached the bottom of her scapula. The bright light had also lightened her hair.
"Oh, by the way. I have someone living with me also," she added quickly; it was an afterthought for her.
"What?" Booth's eyebrows instantly furrowed.
"His name is Keith Merrill; he's really a very fine anthropology graduate student."
She had been the one to move on; even before he had. And with a kid so many more years younger than her? He could not recall if he had had the discussed "cougars" with Bones. Ah, he had, and she admitted that all women enjoyed younger men because of their sexual energy. He had that…he was not old per say…
"He will be temporarily taking an internship position at the Jeffersonian under my instruction."
"So you found someone then," he looked off in to the distance, trying to hide the disappointment on his face from showing.
"I wasn't looking for another intern, and his is a biological anthropology student as opposed to forensics, but I think it will be an excellent opportunity for him and-"
"Does he make you happy?" Booth snapped his head back to her with military-like precision and intensity.
"Well he is quite brilliant; he almost reminds me of the potential I had as a graduate student."
"Do you love him?"
"Of course not," Brennan looked up.
Their eyes locked.
"You thought I-"
They both smiled, mirroring each other.
"I thought you-"
Together, they broke into sweet, sweet laughter. It was really like old times again.
"I can't believe I even thought that…I'm sorry," he flashed his charm smile. "Forgive me?"
"Of course," she bit her lip cutely.
"Why don't I make it up to you," Booth got to his feet, offering his hand. "Tonight, we hit Wong Fu's for some chow. Tomorrow morning, we bring our roommates to the diner for some old fashioned American style eggs and bakey. You game?"
"I think that's acceptable…on one condition," she allowed him to pull her into a standing position. The second their hands touched, she felt a burst of electricity jump between them. Knowing that with the high humidity, it was surely not static, it had to be her imagination.
"What would that be?" By some mutual consensus, they began to talk and wander around the monument.
"I can skip the bacon," she nudged him playfully.
"You're still vegetarian?" he teased.
"Yes, why wouldn't I be?"
"You mean you didn't 'sample the native culture through foods' or something like that?"
"I have broken my vegetarian on occasion for cultural immersion, but it never turns out well…"
"What do you mean by that?" Booth asked, genuinely curious.
"After one stops eating meat, it can become difficult to digest and can cause…distress. Even if I were to eat meat on accident, I would feel an extremely large urge to vomit after-" her gaze snapped to the purple medal on his chest. Brennan didn't know that much about military commendations, but the heart, lined in gold medal, with the shimmering profile of a man. It was a purple heart; an award given to those wounded…not only wounded, but wounded it battle.
"Bones, what's up? You-" his eyes widened when he realized what she was staring at.
"No no no no no…." she stepped back. "Y-You can't help being yourself…it's your nature and I was foolish to think this wasn't going to happen."
"Please…let me explain…" Booth pleaded.
"Did you plan on telling me?" her eyes rimmed with fresh tears.
"Stop, calm down-"
"You're asking me to calm down?" she fumed. "You were obviously in combat…you promised that you would just be training other soldiers…not fighting yourself…"
"Bones," he grabbed her wrist.
"Don't touch me," she ripped her hand back to herself.
"Okay," he held his hand up in surrender. "You can't say no to the Army. I-I signed on to join; they could assign me around like they wanted. I did go into combat. I did play hero. But I did save one of my men. And I know that was right. I went to the Army to save lives…that's exactly what I did. That shot hit me in a stomach," he seized her hand again, this time puling it to where he was shot. "They fixed me up, I've been shot before."
She nodded in understanding, still visibly upset. Part of her was not surprised, but the other portion felt betrayed. It was like someone had grabbed a fist full of her hair and violently pulled and twisted it in some sort of perverse satisfaction. And well, she had experienced that in foster care.
"I'm okay," he tilted her chin up.
"I-Is that what you wanted to tell me?"
"There's more," Booth swallowed hard. It felt like his mouth was dry and he had just swallowed a jagged rock. "I was shot before…in the leg. No, it wasn't combat," he tried to combat her piercing, sorrowful glare. "Friendly fire. It was an accident."
Brennan just stood there, stunned.
"Please, say something."
"I-I don't know what to say…" she crossed her arms defensively.
"I survived. It was only a year," he brushed a stray hair from her pouting face. "We survived the year…that's all that matters. We're both here."
She carefully nodded. Booth was here in front of her; and in one single piece no less. But yet, she had pleaded with him to not to play hero. She felt hurt, and she couldn't help it.
"I-I know you're hurt. That's why I wanted to wait to tell you-"
"Until when? Never?"
"…Until you were ready to hear it," he looked down, now a bit disgusted with his idea of waiting to tell her.
"So you were going to be dishonest," Brennan was meeting him blow for blow. She wasn't going to back down. "Avoiding telling the truth is dishonesty. I thought our relationship we always open…"
"Okay," he held a hand up as a sign of surrender. "If you suffered any life threatening injuries, speak now, or forever hold your piece."
Rather reluctantly, her eyes darted to her upper right arm. The now scaring laceration was cloaked by her short sleeves. Deliberately, she drew her shirt upwards, revealing scar. "It wasn't life threatening; only a flesh wound."
Booth gasped at the sight. Sure, he had most certainly seen worse, but his heart went out to her. "W-What happened…"
"I had a run in with an inattentive boat while scuba diving…"
"Is that what you wanted to tell me?"
"Yes," she lied.
Sure, the physical issues were now out in the open, but she knew that it wasn't what concerned her most at the moment. Heck, she had almost forgotten of her boating accident. The thought of blurting out her feelings crossed her mind, but she decided against it. It was easy to justify this as "not the right time," or "not the right setting," but the plain truth (as she liked it) was this: Brennan was petrified. It was impossible to predict his reaction. It was impossible to predict her own reaction. It was impossible to predict what her confession would do to their professional relationship. It was impossible to predict what it would do to their personal relationship.
"Well now that everything is out in the open, can we still meet for breakfast?"
Booth knew her better than anybody else; perhaps even better than herself. He could guess her computer passwords, what she would order at a restaurant, and just knew how she acted. It was almost like she was holding something back. She was like a soda, shaken to excite all the carbon dioxide; the pressure built from within, thratening an explosive opening.
"Of course. Of course…"
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I hope that lived up to expectations! We're still not in the clear for these two though, as I'm sure you have guessed. By the way, I'm am thinking of this having a sequel. Anyone game for that?
EDIT: For clarification, we still have a few chapters to go before the sequel would begin (if I decide to take that path).
Send me a review, whether it be about the chapter or my notions of a sequel. I would love to have the feedback!
Twitter - ObjectiveMiss
