Stretching out across the bed he fought to keep his eyes open as he listened to her distinctive undertones of anger and frustration echoing from the other room. The way she closed the cabinet, set the coffee cups down on the counter, slammed the refrigerator door, rattled the silverware drawer as it refused to slide closed willingly, even the clanking of the spoon hitting the sides of the coffee cup while she stirred in cream and sugar, it was all a little louder and more abrupt. She would deny it, if he asked her if she was mad, she'd tell him no. One last stretch as he rubbed his hand across his own bare chest and he was out of bed, slipping into his boxers and headed to the kitchen to see what had his beautiful scientist in a snit.
This transition was off to a rough start. When Booth imagined them finally coming together it had always been out of uncontrollable passion. He'd enjoyed the fantasies, he had to admit that. But his concerns that a flash of passion would kill any possibility of a long term relationship kept him under control, looking for something different, wanting something different. They were supposed to be coming together out of a mutual desire to not be apart any more. He waited for that, knowing he could have had her a million times over if he wasn't in it for the long haul. The night Hannah left he knew what Bones was asking when she wanted to know what happened next, even drunk he knew. The night of that blizzard, when it seemed like some kind of sick trick the universe played on him, trapping them together. The night he hung that science fair medal around her neck the finder tried to woo her with. Each had their own alluring draw. Each, and a million more, had tempted him. What he had never expected was that grief would bring her into his arms.
"Morning." He whispered against her neck. She jumped, gasped, elbowed him in the chest with just enough force to land somewhere between pissed and playful. He held her close from behind. The solidness of his hands pressed against her tummy and pulled her back towards him threatening to sweep all her anger away .
"Why do you keep doing that to me?"
"What?" Trying to feign innocence he laid a simple kiss behind her ear enjoying the shiver that ran through her body.
"You know what and don't try to pretend you don't." There was an edge to her tone, a hint of anger. "Don't sneak up on me like that." Her voice was firm even though her body had folded back into his own and she swayed back and forth as he rocked them gently. She was trying, fighting her own resistance to his affection.
"Another nightmare?" She didn't respond, which told him everything he needed to know. "I'm not leaving, Bones, I promise. This is exactly where I want to be."
"That could change, you could change your mind." She stiffened in his arms. "It's part of life. I have to accept that."
"You can't build something with me if you're constantly expecting me to turn around and leave you." Fear, he figured, was the biggest threat to their relationship. "I need you to trust me."
"I do trust you." Grabbing her shoulders he turned her tenderly around until she was facing him. Her eyes, deep like the ocean, emotions seemed to roll like waves in them, to and fro, never settling. Pleading, at the moment, wanting him to believe in her own belief in him. "I have never trusted anyone more."
"This won't change. Not for me." She wouldn't look at him though, averting her eyes, turning her head. It took a minute but he got her there, with him. "I love you, you know that right? That won't change. It never has." He lost her again, as her eyes wandered and the uncomfortable fidgets and repositioning betrayed her attempts to look casually engaged. He brought her back to him, again. "You are the one I love the most, Temperance, you, just you." His voice a simple whisper now, low, solid, sure. "I have waited so long for you, I promise, I am not going anywhere."
He was fighting a string of nightmares, an intangible foe. Booth could always tell when she'd had one, she'd wake up mad at him. It wasn't rational, she told him, but she had a hard time fighting the mood they put her in. She, of all people, should be able to separate these dreams from reality and disregard them. Her inability to effectively separate them made her angry and frustrated with herself.
Booth pulled her into the living room, sat in his chair and pulled her onto his lap.
"We need to get ready to go." Resisting in word as she settled in on his lap like she wanted to stay.
"We can take a few minutes. You wanna tell me about it?"
"No." The rolling emotions in her ever changing eyes moved towards embarrassment. Her head fell on his shoulder as she let out a long pensive breath. Sometimes there were more words in their silence than in their conversations. He answered her fear with reassurance, her frustration with tenderness, eased her irritation all without a word. Then she ceremonially patted his shoulder letting him know she was done and needed to move on. Before she could move completely away he stopped her, pulled her back, letting his hand come up to her cheek, his thumb gently stroking the soft skin below it.
"We'll make it, you and I, we're going to make it." A simple kiss, shared I love yous, and they were off.
It would be a long day, they both knew that. Beginning with a case that seemed to be more trouble than it should be and ending in another therapy appointment with Sweets. This was not a good day for a therapy session that much was obvious. Bones was already struggling, she didn't need Sweets poking and prodding, pushing her. He wanted more than anything else to call and cancel but he knew they couldn't, not after their appointment last week had been cut short by a new case, new crime scene.
Even the idea of work was a relief to her. Anticipation growing the closer she got to the Jeffersonian. She buried herself in the bones of their latest victim. The twisted, complicated nature of this case all the better today. She batted away the invading thoughts of her dreams refocusing on a woman who needed a name, a voice, justice. An attempt to banish the thoughts and flashes of Booth leaving her that haunted her dreams, the feeling of impending rejection and abandonment. Her mind had mixed him with countless terrifying circumstances throughout her life. It was no longer her parents leaving and never coming back on Christmas Eve, it was Booth. He left her, he sailed away, he drove off heading out West, beautiful blonde women stealing him. Regardless of how the dreams started out they ended with her alone and Booth gone.
Feeling the effects of her own mental and emotional struggle and dreading the inevitability of their Sweets appointment had left her intolerant and biting. Everyone at the lab gave her a wide berth, let her hide most of the day, only bothering her when absolutely necessary. The general consensus; Dr. Temperance Brennan didn't have the emotional coping skills to deal with the pressure and grief of watching her intern, Vincent Nigel-Murray, bleed out at her knees. There was a measure of compassion from her techs and interns. After all, who's really prepared to deal with that?
Booth, on the other hand, was having a hard time keeping his cool. Punished for crimes he didn't commit, would never in a million years commit, trying to protect her from herself, concerned about their meeting with Sweets, he took her to lunch in the name of getting an update on the case.
"What's wrong?" There was an irritation in his voice that she accepted as deserved.
"Nothing."
"You don't seriously expect me to believe that, right?"
"Yes." So stubborn, she could be so stubborn. He took a deep breath, leaned in.
"It's not my fault, you know?" She looked confused.
"Of course it's not your fault. I don't think you murdered her, Booth."
"That's not what I'm talking about." He kicked himself, Bones was always so literal. Having this conversation in a public place meant it had to be implied, not overt, which she probably wouldn't understand the way he needed her to. He leaned in across the table and whispered. "The dreams, they're not my fault." Leaning back he let his eyebrows rise and waited for a response.
"I know." She watched his jaw pulse. "But it's not just the dreams." It was her turn to talk softly. "I just need to think things through." There was a cross between hurt and anger in his eyes and she immediately felt guilty, she'd said that wrong, he didn't understand.
"I thought we were done thinking about this. I thought we were doing this." He looked away from her as she felt her heart sink to the pit of her stomach.
"We are, Booth, we are." Her tone shifted, softened. He could hear the pain in it. "It's not you, it's me." The implication was clear. She always feared she'd screw things up with Booth, she didn't say it now but it was understood by both of them. The past rose up, her words echoed in his head, she'd said it the night he'd asked her to take a risk with him and try to have a relationship. It's you that needs protecting from me. He brought his eyes back to hers, the pain in them tightened his throat. He forced a tender understanding smile.
"It's not you, there's nothing wrong with you, Bones, it's not you." His eyes darted around the diner. Why did they have to be here? Regardless of the clanking dishes, the chatter of the lunch crowd, the constant ringing of the the bells that hung from the door as people came and went Booth still didn't feel safe diving into their relationship here. Too many of their associates ate here, the risk was too great. Catching her eyes, offering her all he could in this public place he leaned back in and whispered. "It'll be okay." He nodded adding his reassurance. "We'll be okay." Then he changed the subject. The rest of lunch was case related. There was safety for her in facts. The tangible, concrete world of science was not nearly as difficult to traverse as emotions and relationships and he watched as the science soothed her.
On the way back to her office he pulled her into a darkened hallway and cornered her, leaning in close.
"It's not you, I need you to know that, Bones, really know it, okay? You're just scared and that's okay, this is scary. But, I'm not going anywhere, understand? We are going to make it but you have to trust me. You need to think some things through, I understand, but you have to talk to me and tell me what you're thinking." He could already see she wasn't going to let him in that easily. He'd have to work for it. "God, I love you, every stubborn little inch of you." Just an inch closer and he felt his cheek brush against hers, heard her breath catch.
"I'm not stubborn." She countered, her frustration faded into a soft smile. Pausing, she took a deep breath then let it out slowly. "I don't want to go to see Sweets this afternoon."
"I know." Shifting his weight he moved a little closer. "I don't want to either. But, Noble is riding my ass about it. I can't get us out of it."
"I know." Her hushed resignation was oddly comforting. Fiddling with his tie she twisted it around her hand and pulled him in a little closer until their lips barely brushed. Barely into a stolen kiss, the buzz of his cell phone interrupted them drawing out an exasperated sigh echoed in unison from the pair. The text was from Hodgins, they thought they finally had something to go on. Hopefully something to give the case some traction. Pulled out of the world of their new relationship, still standing on wobbly legs, still very much a fantasy they expected to wake up from at any moment, and back to work. Work that would keep them busy all afternoon. Eventually he'd leave the Jeffersonian to follow up with some leads before heading to the Hoover. She'd barricade herself in the bone room for more time alone with the remains.
It was easier after lunch, she felt calmer, more centered. Her anxiety eased, her fears faded which allowed her to get completely lost in the touch and feel of the bones. She was carried away by the search for answers, so much so that she didn't realize she was running late for their late afternoon appointment with Sweets until her cell phone alarm rang.
Cringing she left behind her work in the bone room, incomplete, she hated leaving anything incomplete. She raced to her office, slipped out of her labcoat, grabbed her bag and keys. Hurrying she complained to herself all the way to the Hoover, angry at traffic and Noble and Sweets for taking her away from her work. She parked and ran bypassing the elevator when her repeated frantic pushes to the up button didn't bring it to her fast enough. She was winded when she burst through the door of Sweets' office. It was her turn to be late.
"I'm sorry I'm late." Her heart was still racing and her breath uneven as she tried to catch it and slow her body down. Sweets jumped up and got her a glass of water.
"No problem, Dr. Brennan, here why don't you have a seat and take a minute." She looked almost wildly between Booth and Sweets and three small bowls that were set out on Sweets' coffee table with several folded pieces of paper in each. The conversation drifted back and forth around the case as she sipped her water but her eyes couldn't help but dwell on those shallow dishes.
After a few minutes Sweets slapped his hands together then rubbed them excitedly.
"Are your phones on silent cause what we're doing tonight can't be interrupted?" The duo looked back at him like two teenagers asked to go clean their room. He smiled, almost laughed, at their expressions, but thought better of it. Instead he just continued. "Communication is the hallmark of any good partnership, communication and trust."
"We communicate just fine, Sweets, always have, right, Bones?" Booth started to argue. She started to agree with Booth. Both were cut short as Sweets raised his hand to stop them.
"I know you have in the past but I also know that Hannah-"
"I told you never to bring her up again."
"Agent Booth, I am merely saying that circumstances were different when you came back and experiences and memories you might have shared before you left didn't. This experience is meant to fill in those gaps."
Booth, who'd leaned forward aggressively at the mention of Hannah, sat back and folded his arms over his chest guardedly.
"In these dishes there are some words written on a pieces of paper, one word on each piece of paper. You pick a piece of paper and then I want you to tell me something that happened to you while you were away that fits with that word. A memory, something you haven't already shared with each other."
He was greeted with silence, better than argument unless the pair was totally disengaged and resistant. Sweets waited a minute, letting out a frustrated sigh, he continued.
"Some should be easy, some might be difficult and some will definitely be hard to share." He motioned at the dishes from his right to his left pointing to each dish as he went. 'There's one extra word in each bowl, one of you can pass on the word you have and pick another but only one per bowl, got it?"
The pair looked incredibly uncomfortable. "Agent Booth, Dr. Brennan, I hope you take this exercise seriously. Assistant Director Noble has taken a personal interest, I am sure he'll be asking me how our appointment went tomorrow." And with that Sweets made it worse. "Okay, so why don't you two turn so you're facing each other."
The problem was they didn't want to look at each other. As much as Sweets was trying to bring them together, they were trying to appear separate. Before they even reached for a paper, it seemed their eyes darted, bouncing off one anothers whenever they connected.
"Dr. Brennan, why don't you go first?" Booth was okay with that, if she got a word that made her uncomfortable she could use the pass.
Glaring her discontent she reached in the first bowl pulling out a piece of paper and carefully unfolding it.
"Anticipation." Looking confused as to what she was supposed say she glanced over at Sweets as she started to define the word.
"No, Dr. Brennan, tell Booth about an experience where you felt anticipation. Anything from right before you left until right after you came home." She was just opening her mouth to speak when Sweets interrupted her. "It has to be something, an experience, that Booth doesn't already know about." He motioned for her to continue. She nodded then started again still staring at Sweets.
"Anticipation." She said it long and drawn out as she thought.
"Do you wanna pass on that one, Bones?" Watching her struggle was hard. Nodding she set anticipation aside and reached for the bowl.
"Surprise." There was a moment when she was obviously thinking and then it visibly clicked. "Okay, I was surprised by the number of snakes." She had a well established fear of snakes. In fact, she once jumped on Booth's back after accidentally shooting him because she was so scared of a room full of snakes.
"You were in the jungle, Bones." Sweets put up his hand to stop him from interjecting.
"Agent Booth, no interruptions, no questions or statements, just listen, this exercise is just about listening."
She ignored Sweets and continued, answering Booth directly. "True. I suppose that wasn't the surprising part, the surprising part was that I wasn't afraid of them, not at all. More than once I reached down and picked them up and moved them out of the way with no fear whatsoever. I even commented on my lack of fear to Ms. Wick on several occasions. She on the other hand, was very fearful." She chuckled over that last part with an amused glee shining in her ocean eyes. The memory of Daisy's squeal still vivid.
She found Booth's reaction unsettling and hard to read. He looked almost hurt, which she didn't understand, confused as to why. Booth tried to contain it, though it was hard not to feel as if she was pointing out how she'd grown past him and her need to be protected by him. He knew she was strong, it was one of the things he loved about her but he also loved the little ways he could protect her, be strong for her. He loved that despite all that strength she still needed him.
"That's good, Dr. Brennan, but can you be more specific. Like pick one example, maybe the one that surprised you the most." Sweets guided, advised, encouraging her on.
"Oh, okay. One night I came back to my tent very late, I was tired, exhausted really. I hadn't slept well in several nights in anticipation of exploring a new part of the dig. I was very hopeful that this section would bring the answers we'd been looking for. I got up early and in the rush to get to the site left my bed unmade. When I crawled into bed that night I felt the cold scaly snake skin on my feet. That was not what I expected." She laughed, breaking the tension between her and Booth. He loved that laugh, low and uneven, genuine. "I did jump." She became endearingly expressive the farther she got into the story.
Sweets caught a glimpse of that softened connection in Booth's eye confirming to him that no matter how buried his affections for Dr. Brennan were, they were there. Booth lowered his gaze as he pulled back emotionally from the moment. Both men had lost track of what she was saying catching just the tail end.
"I didn't even walk it back to the forest. Just moved it outside my mosquito netting, crawled in bed, and went to sleep." Her excitement was captivating to Booth.
There was only one piece of paper in the easy bowl. Booth reached for it. Sweets watched as he tensed before reading it aloud.
"Love." His eyes drilled Sweets. This word, he knew, would be taken as treasonous, it screamed of Hannah and betrayal to his first and true love, Bones. He knew Sweets well enough to know that's exactly what Sweets had been driving at. If Bones had gotten it she could have spoken of those dreams of Booth she'd told him about or maybe some love she'd found over there in the jungle or loving her work. As for him, well, he was sure that Sweets expected him to talk about Hannah. That wasn't gonna happen, he said he wasn't going there again and he meant it.
"Hamid." Both Bones and Sweets looked at him, surprised, questions on the tips of their tongues. Booth shushed them and moved on. "Hamid was a little boy that lived near the base. The minute we were out he was right there. A lot of kids were, they all wanted to see the American soldiers or they wanted our candy. Most of us carried candy for the kids. But, Hamid was different. He could have cared less about candy. He wanted to know everything he could learn about America, wanted to learn English, wanted to hear about Parker and home. I told him about you, Bones." Smiling, he connected with her for just a moment. "And you too, Sweets." He looked away for a moment. She could feel the difference in him, something she couldn't name but felt crept into every aspect of his being, rolled off of him. "I taught him baseball." Booth smiled wistfully. "The boy could pitch." Swallowing hard he forced himself on. "He would tell me about how he was going to come to America one day and find me." Booth's hands fidgeted, he picked at his nail bed then looked out Sweets' office window.
Sweets was about to remind him that he was talking to Dr. Brennan and should be looking at her when Booth pulled his eyes back to meet hers. "He reminded me of Parker. I think I loved him like Parker, like a son. His father had been killed by insurgents." There was a quiet that hung in the air as Bones fought the urge to reach out and touch his arm, to give him that physical contact and reassurance. He saw it though, in the twitch of her fingers. He smiled at her, nodded, his way of saying he knew she was there for him.
As promised the second bowl was harder. Dr. Brennan chose first, picking anger. She spoke of the disappointment, frustration, the increasing anger she'd felt as it became obvious that the promised earth shaking scientific discoveries were not there in Maluku, not anywhere to be found. Booth picked pain. He talked about the pain of battle. How even though he knew more than most what to expect in a battle zone it still hurt to watch the anguish and pain that war brought. He left out the part where what he saw during this tour opened up the memories and torment of every tour he'd ever served. The tone in the room had become increasingly somber. They both stared at the last bowl, neither wanted to see what it had to offer.
Sweets was about to up his game. "You guys are doing great." He almost sounded surprised which irritated Booth.
"Yeah, well, communication has never been a problem for us, Sweets."
Sweets wasn't going to argue, choosing to ignore the bait Booth left for him he just moved on. "This time I want you to go first, Agent Booth." Booth rolled his eyes, that was fine he'd just take whatever he picked first leaving Bones the option to pass. Taking a ragged breath Booth leaned forward, his hand hovered over the folded papers, hesitating before he let out a heavy sigh and grabbed at one.
"Regret." His uneasiness apparent he flopped back on the couch, exhausted already from the experience, angry that Sweets was making him put into words events that were so close to his heart. His eyes were dark, jaw pulsing rapidly, his breath unnaturally even, Bones attributed that to his sniper training. Years of keeping himself under complete control paid off sometimes.
Booth cleared his throat. "I was in a…" His long pauses spoke volumes and she found herself holding her breath for him. "I was in a sniper posit-"
"Don't tell me." Sweets interrupted. "You're talking to Dr. Brennan, look at her, tell her." Booth nodded and turned his body back towards her. This was painfully hard for him, she saw that. He was about to start again when Sweets added. "And touch her." Both of their heads whipped around, settling on the psychologist. If looks could kill. "I want you to communicate, to connect. You're going to do that with your words, with eye contact and with a physical connection."
"Don't you think that's highly unprofessional for colleagues, partners who aren't, by FBI standards, supposed to be 'connecting'?" Her question was spit out in haste, it came out abrupt and defensive.
"Dr. Brennan, I am not asking you to hug or kiss. I just want you to hold his hand, like you were shaking it. Agent Booth doesn't have cooties I swear."
"What does that mean?" Confused by his colloquialism and angered by his request she pulled back as far away from Booth as possible on the small love seat taking a defensive position.
"Or, or you could put your hand on his knee and he could put his on yours like you were comforting a friend."
Booth rubbed his face in frustration then reached out for her hand.
"Remember, talk to her like it was just the two of you, I'm not even here." Not there and yet he leaned forward, excited, nearly in their laps.
Booth turned back to Sweets. "It would be easier to pretend you weren't here if you'd shutup."
Taking a deep breath he closed his eyes for just a moment as he tried to calm himself down. He turned back to Bones, taking her hand in his. Looking up into those eyes of hers, they looked strong now, supportive, and encouraging. "I was in a sniper position, my team placed around the square of this small little village."
So many interruptions had robbed him of the emotion of the event, they were just words, a recounting of history. "We'd gotten a tip that insurgents were planning a bombing. Tips were never reliable but we had to prepare for them, you know, just in case. I thought it was a bad one, a bad tip but then I saw him. I saw him and I knew." His heart was racing now, she could feel it in his wrist where she carefully placed her finger to monitor it. "I, I saw it but I didn't wanna see it you know? He wasn't a man, he was barely older than a boy."
"Booth." Her heart ached for him, it reached out through her tender tone. Through the years Sweets had given her more than one reason to not trust him. She'd dealt with those situations and moved past them but at the moment she hated him for doing this to Booth.
Booth gripped her hand tighter. "He didn't even have a full beard yet. The market was packed. Soldiers, women, children, vendors and this boy, this child about to end it. They didn't know, didn't see what I saw." His eyes darted, not settling as if he were looking across that market place all over again. "If I ignored him I knew what would happen. If I took the shot I'd be killing a child. He made a move, he was going for the detonator, I knew it, I saw it." Booth stopped there. A long stretch of silence spread between them. She squeezed his hand a little firmer trying to offer support, knowing it wouldn't, couldn't ever be enough.
Clearing his throat again Booth continued. "I took the shot, it was good, he would have taken out half the block he was so loaded with explosives. I killed him. I regret that."
"You had to do it, Booth, you had no choice." Pleading her case, trying to ease the pain.
"I know, but, I still regret it."
"All those people, those children, they would have died or been horribly injured. I know, I've seen the bones of victims like that. Bone injuries hurt, I know, you can't numb bone."
He hushed her, trying to calm her. "I know it had to be done, my regret is that I had to do it, that anyone had to do it. He was maybe thirteen or fourteen. He should be thinking about girls and dates and school not war and battle, not deciding to be a suicide bomber."
She nodded in understanding as she reached for the bowl and a piece of paper before Sweets could interrupt and poke at Booth. It was wise. Sweets was just opening his mouth when she blurted.
"Fear." She launched herself into her story. "There were several times that we were under attack from local militia groups." She looked up at Booth. "I told you about one such incident when I first got home. This one, the one I am referring to now, happened long before that incident. I had barely arrived only to discover that the dig was approximately 3.7 kilometers away from the camp." Booth looked confused and she could hear him in her head asking for the measurement in English. She smiled. "That would be approximately 2.3 miles. I was tired but anxious to view the site for myself. It was dinner time and their shuttles back and forth from the camp to the dig had stopped for the day so I decided to walk."
Seeing the concern in his eyes she tried to explain. "It was a well marked path, a makeshift road and it was still light out, Booth. I was careful. Despite that I was met by a band of rebels, they were traditionalists who wanted us off the land and away from burial grounds we were excavating. I soon found myself surrounded. I was out numbered by the men, there must have been at least ten, they were large and loud and carried weapons." The look of worry in Booth's eyes seemed to compound with each word. "I did my best to communicate with them, explain my position and standing in the camp but they just kept getting closer until my back was up against a large tree, an old growth Durian tree." She wanted to stop there, didn't want to go into anymore detail and was about to but Booth's painful honesty in sharing his experience pushed her to talk instead of run.
"I, I was afraid. I felt fear. They started, they moved closer, and they started to touch me." She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. "I knew their intentions were less than honorable. I realized there was no one coming to save me. I employed my-"
"They touched you?"
"Yes." Both Booth and Sweets marveled over her casual demeanor, her even voice. "I employed my considerable skills and martial arts training in extricating myself from the situation. I had to, it was just me. I was alone."
"They touched you? Inappropriately?"
"Yes. But I was able to extrica-"
"Extricate yourself, I know-"
"It means remo-"
"I know what it means, Bones. Shit, Bones, they molested you and you just told that whole story like you were reading the nutritional info on the back of a box of cereal. Like it was nothing."
She knew what he was saying. It was a coping mechanism, distancing, and one of the many reasons she hated psychology. Distancing worked for her but every therapist that she'd ever seen, especially the ones while she was in foster care, told her it was unhealthy.
"I am fine, I was fine, I handled it myself, I got away and went back to the camp. From that time forward I didn't walk, I took one of the camp vehicles, and always traveled with someone, usually Ms. Wick." Diverting the topic to Daisy was quick and always irresistible to Sweets.
Booth looked over at the darkwood hour glass Sweets kept on his end table. "Wow, how time flies. Look at that, we're done." Standing he pulled Bones up by the hand. "See ya."
Dr. Brennan adjusted quickly following at first then within a couple steps leading. Sweets called after them, wanting to talk about what had just happened, talk about their next appointment, but it was too late. Shaking his head he fell back in his chair. As they were crossing the threshold of Sweets' office she quickly pointed out that she was going back to the lab.
"No." Booth was adamant. "No. We're going home." He whispered it directly into her ear. It wasn't the tender whisperings of a lover. It was demanding. They kept quiet until they were out of the building and into the parking garage but then she couldn't contain it anymore.
"I am going back to work. This was a pointless diversion. I need to work."
"Really? Because my girlfriend just told me that she was almost raped and I'm not really feelin' that work thing. I'm thinkin' we need to go home and have a drink and, you know, be together."
"I need to work." She was adamant, in his face like so many times over the years.
"Yeah, I get it, okay. You're strong. You don't need me. You can handle it all on your own." His words were biting. "Couples handle problems together, Bones, they work things out together, not alone."
"Well, tonight I need to be alone." She didn't even blink. "I'm going to work and then I am staying at my apartment tonight." The implication was clear. He wasn't invited. Bones, party of one. She turned on her heel and marched off to her car without looking back.
Booth wandered. Their nights had been filled with each other. Even when she worked late, he came to the lab most of the time, hung out in her office or would work late until it was time to meet at his place or hers. That wasn't happening tonight, she made that abundantly clear.
He went back to his office for awhile, waited to hear from her, but he didn't. Sent a text. No response. Took in some therapeutic target practice at the range, but his memories were still stirred up from their session with Sweets and he couldn't get Hamid or that poor insurgent boy out of his head. Sent another text, then called but no answer. He left the Hoover, drove, not wanting to go home to an empty apartment. Ended up at the Founding Fathers, had a drink. Shaking off the initial burn of the first swallow, he felt Sweets walk up and sit down next to him at the bar. He found it hard to control the rage building in him.
"Where's Dr. Brennan?" Sweets asked casually.
"Work." Booth didn't try and hide his irritation at all.
"Does that bother you?"
"Nope." Booth was already reaching into his pocket to pay and leave.
"I would have thought you two would have spent some time together after-"
"You'd be wrong." Booth couldn't deal with Sweets right now. He patted the young man on the shoulder firmly, so firmly it rocked his whole body, then left. At least at home he could drink in peace.
Making his way to that peaceful drink, he headed to what he knew would be a cold dark apartment. It didn't disappoint. He called again, left another message. Texted again, no response. Showered, changed, pretended to watch a game, one he couldn't name or remember the score of, paced, ate, called, texted, called again all as he watched the clock tick slower than it ever had before. Pushed to a place of raging concern for her, he slipped on his shoes, grabbed his keys and headed out to go find her. She'd had her space and if she really wanted more, he'd give it to her, but he had to know she was somewhere safe.
He'd just locked the door when he heard her faint voice.
"Booth." He turned to find her standing at the other end of the hall outside his apartment. Watching the discernable look of relief wash over his face, she knew where he was headed without asking. He was headed out to find her. She asked anyway, wanting, needing to hear the answer. "Where are you going?"
Taking a couple steps towards her. "You didn't answer your phone." He played with the keys in his hands, a convenient distraction. "You didn't text me back." He was close enough now he could see a trail her tears had left. "I was just going to make sure you were safe." He motioned back down the hall where he'd been heading then turned back to her. She came closer, nervously.
"My phone must still be on silent." She'd left in such a hurry and went straight to the lab and worked. When she was done there she'd gone to her apartment, still firm in her resolve to spend the night without the comfort of Booth. It was harder than she'd anticipated, much harder. He watched as she started to crumble, watched her fight to stay strong. "I'm so tired. Can I just?"
"God, Bones, you don't ever have to ask." She fell into his arms, held him tight, trying to pour everything she couldn't put into words into this one embrace. "Come on, let's go in."
He led her down the hall, past the living room. The clock chimed once, twice, three times. Into the bedroom where she stood and watched as he gathered clothes for her. He wanted to take care of her, needed to take care of her. Truth was she needed to be taken care of, needed to let someone take care of her. Snapped out of thought, she realized that he was close again, standing right there in front of her looking for her permission. She gave it and he gently started undressing her, replacing her work clothes with his old soft t-shirt and a pair of his boxers. It was close, intimate. Crowding her, he walked them backwards until her calves hit the edge of the bed. She tried to apologize, to have the conversation they should have had hours ago. Each time he hushed her, a kiss, his finger on her lips, a gentle sound hummed in her ear.
"Tomorrow, okay? We'll talk tomorrow." She couldn't wait for tomorrow though, it seemed so far away, too far away.
He wrapped his body around hers, she twisted and turned into him. When they finally settled he started to talk. "You know the boy, the one I shot? That was a regret, but not my biggest regret from that time." He felt her head move, it was dark, too dark to see but he could feel her looking at him. "My biggest regret was at the airport when you left." The rich timbre of his voice lulled her. "You, you held my hand. I should have never pulled away from you like I did. When you held on, I should have held on too. I should have never turned and walked away. I thought about it...all the time, for the longest time. I should have stayed with you, Bones. And when you turned around, when we turned around and saw each other. We should have stopped that madness, we should have never left. I should never have anyways. That's my regret. I should have stayed or I should have gone with you, either way, I should have never let you go."
"Booth." He kissed her before she could say anything else, showered her in kisses, tender, deep affections that carried the hurt of all those missing months. She felt his hands slide up her sides pulling the t-shirt with them, she settled back down on his bare chest. She'd found a comfort in feeling her skin rest on his an unexpected security in such a vulnerable state. "I had to go. I found something there I never would have found anywhere else."
"I thought the dig was a bust."
"The dig was." Her hands wandered, breaching the edge of his waistband first, finding the scar his brother had left during their childish wargames. Pushing, wiggling, tugging, he was soon naked next to her. "I found something else." It was getting harder to think. He liked this state he'd discovered in the three short weeks they'd been together. His affections left her open, no more over thinking, no heavily guarded Bones, just her, honest, bare. He tugged on those boxers he'd so carefully put on her.
"What did you find?" She was breathy now which amused him.
"You." Their clothes either discarded or pushed to their feet under the covers, they savored the feel of their long lean bodies pressed against one another, nothing hidden between them. "I found you, I found my love for you, my need for you." She'd never told him that. His hands stopped. She leaned up, hovering over him as her hair dangled, falling over his sensitive skin, it tickled. "I had to go away from you to find out just how much I needed that, wanted it, wanted you." His fingers pushed through her hair as he tried to hold it back to see what he could of her face. He looked troubled, overrun by the painful realization that Cam had been right. Hannah had been harder for her than she ever let on, than he had ever realized. She'd come home ready to love him and he'd betrayed her, abandoned her for another.
"But we're here now, right? You and me, together, no more nights like tonight, okay?. We've spent enough time apart." He begged as he rolled her, tucking her carefully underneath himself, desperate to show her how important she was to him, how much he reverenced every word she'd just given him.
The rest of their conversation would be wordless, their bodies always touching, close, not more than a couple inches apart at anytime. Desperate to cling together, any distance just seemed too far away.
ooooo0ooooo
A/N Did you all catch my not so subliminal plug for jazzyproz story entitled We'll Talk Tomorrow?! It just kind of happened but I had to add in there how Bones didn't think she could wait which is really my feeling about waiting for the next chapter :D If you aren't reading it, you should give it a try. It's one of my favorites right now!
This chapter was huge, maybe the longest one I have ever written but I couldn't cut any of it and splitting it didn't feel right. The more I get into this story the more I am enjoying writing it. Originally, I was aiming for a simple how Sweets found out story. But, the more I thought about it, the more i realized how much must have been going on at this time in the character's lives, the more "story" demanded to be told. I hope that's okay with everyone.
I owe a special thank you to craftyjhawk and snowybones for being deity like beta readers for me :) they put up with all my insecurities and questions and rewrites with grace and style.
Thank you so much for all your wonderful support, for reading and feedback. It fuels my fire and keeps me writing! I can hardly wait to hear from you and see what you thought of this chapter.