"You still haven't told me what we're doing this weekend," she reminded him as they sat on the couch, credits to the fifth Star Wars movie playing across the screen, the theme music playing quietly, since she had lowered it down as soon as the movie had come to a close. It was nearly midnight on a Friday. The neighbors were most likely out or still awake, but Brennan had insisted because she was still feeling somewhat sleep deprived from the previous night. Even though she didn't give that explanation to Booth. It was just that the last thing any of their non-partying neighbors needed was for them to be the ones that kept them awake with obnoxiously catchy music playing through the walls.
"And I don't plan to. Jeez, Bones, when I'm the one keeping the secret you act like it's absurd, but when you do it- oh, it's perfectly fine."
The humor in his voice made her smile, and she changed the subject. "I don't get why we have to watch these movies out of order. I don't understand anything that's happening in them."
"That's supposed to happen. Besides, everyone else had to watch them in this order. It's the full experience we're aiming for. And the third movie doesn't have nearly as much effect until it's the last one. Think of it as a sort of... flash back thing. You're a writer, that should make sense to you."
"In a way, it does," she agreed. "But why it's so incredibly important I don't think I'll ever get. I plan my stories out fully before I begin writing them. Otherwise, I would get sidetracked in the middle, or change my main focus, and then the beginning wouldn't make sense. The timeline needs to be made from the past to the present, not the other way around. Sure, I can plan out where things end, but at the same time the past needs to be constructing itself in order to form a credible-"
He'd zoned out at some point in the middle; she could see it in his eyes, and so she stopped short.
"Sorry, Bones, I just don't get writer speak much more than I get squint speak," he apologized, immediately noticing her sudden silence. "But I understand what you were trying to tell me. Just... this is one of those things that you need to go along with without complaint."
She shrugged. "Fine. I suppose it's like your strange affliction to watching movies without reading the books they're based off of first?"
"That only applies to Harry Potter. Movies are much more my thing than books. But you already knew that." A sudden light sparked in his eyes, like he'd just realized something. "Hey, Bones, when is your movie coming out, anyways? They were working on production plans a long time ago, but I don't ever remember seeing a cast or a script..."
She shifted uncomfortably. She still wasn't exactly at ease with the idea of her first book being transformed into a movie, and it wasn't something she'd thought about recently. "The last time I spoke to my agent about it was... last May. She wanted me to... make a statement, and she brought up the movie then."
"You never actually made the statement, though," he said carefully.
"No, I didn't."
This wasn't something they had talked about, mostly because she avoided the topic at all costs. They'd talked about it plenty after it had happened, and she had felt better after she'd told him everything. But later... it had been pushed aside and she'd tried to go on with her life. It was inevitable that it would come up again though. It wasn't something she could escape, or something she would ever forget, no matter how much she hated that fact.
The press had gotten the news that she had been kidnapped under suspicious circumstances, but they'd never received further details. Because of Booth's use of FBI power, he'd somehow managed to keep her name from being released during the quick prosecution of the accomplice. He had confessed, after all, and pled guilty. There hadn't been any drawn out trial like she'd been terrified of.
All that her fans knew was that she had been through some 'traumatic event,' as her agent had announced in explanation on the website they'd made for her. After the first rush of questions, she'd simply isolated herself. She still worked on the next book, but it was more of a therapeutic technique, something that made life seem normal, then out of any desire to meet a deadline. As far as she knew, deadlines no longer existed. Whenever you're ready, darling, Christie had told her.
And Booth had suggested staying out of the public eye for a while. She'd eagerly agreed, not that she'd ever really enjoyed having a celebrity status to begin with. Not once had she understood the draw. Having people know who you were simply got in the way of other things. Things like her far more important career as a forensic anthropologist.
"I've been... getting emails about appearances and book signings, though. Recently," she told him thoughtfully. Maybe it was time that she got back to that part of her life as well. Now that she was reminded of it, she found she was quite annoyed by how it had vanished. Taken away because of what had happened to her.
"Do you think that would be a good idea?" he asked worriedly.
She scowled, "Why not? It's been ages since I've done anything for publicity, and I know that the people who rely on me at the publishers are probably losing profits because of it. They're entitled to what I signed my contract for."
"Hey, I wasn't saying you weren't ready, Bones," he said, obviously backpedaling. "I was just asking what you're opinion on it was. Do you want to get back out there? I haven't seen you working on the book in a while... surely you've got some ideas built up by now? I mean, I read the manuscript that you had so far, but it cut off at a really crappy spot. You left me hanging, Bones."
The last part took on a teasing tone, and she felt herself relax slightly against him, her tense muscles calming and allowing her to rest her head lightly on his shoulder. It was rather comfortable, and he draped a warm arm around her, only aiding that feeling.
"Actually," she said, finding that she had been working on the concept in her head a while back and had simply given up, "I've been stuck on Kathy and Andy."
He raised an eyebrow. "You don't say?"
The slight sarcasm didn't go unnoticed. "Why do you say it like that?"
"I read the book in your voice, Bones. I can see the internal struggle going on. Both in Kathy's head and in yours."
She wanted to tell him that he couldn't see inside her head, because that was physically impossible. But she couldn't even fake ignorance about what he was actually trying to say, not anymore at least. He would see straight through it.
"If you must have me say it... yes, Andy and Kathy are loosely based around my experiences with you. So, when our relationship changed... I guess I sort of lost my basis for the typical Andy character that I was used to."
"So... have you thought about getting them together? And more than just the quick romp in the sack that you've put in throughout the other books? Because we both know that those little scenes were there to satisfy the publisher, and perhaps to entertain yourself a bit, too?"
She punched him lightly, but truthfully she loved the way they could discuss this, almost directly in line with a conversation about what had happened last spring, and not feel that usual tension and caution. Things had changed, and for once it was for the better. She couldn't keep the easy grin from her face at the reminder.
"Don't flatter yourself. I only brought them in at first because of Ellen's insistence. Then they just became a part of the character dynamic."
"And now?"
"I don't..." she closed her eyes. While she had wanted to discuss possible scenarios for Andy and Kathy's relationship, the idea she'd been painfully considering after giving him the first part of her manuscript for Christmas wasn't one she was sure she wanted to share. He wouldn't approve, of that she was absolutely certain. Even she was starting to think it was too personal. Something that shouldn't be shared. But between the begging of her agent and the rest of the company that controlled her affairs to make some sort of appearance and at least explain why she had disappeared for so long... she had somehow begun writing a scene that she had never in her wildest dreams imagined placing in any work of fiction.
Where she had gotten up to in her manuscript, the last part Booth had read, was where Kathy was being held for ransom by a gang that she had recently gone up against without Andy's knowledge. It had been in her original plan, actually. She'd had it written down in her timeline as the climax of the story from almost the very beginning. Before last spring.
The plan had been for an escape by her, without any help by Andy. Because she was tough, not some damsel in distress. Andy, in fact, was to be captured in the process of attempting a rescue, and she was the one who was going to save the day with her quick thinking and her martial arts skills.
As she'd sat down to write a few weeks ago, though, during one bout of boredom alone at the apartment while Booth worked late, she'd realized how dark she'd made the gang members. How careless of human life and the tragedy they'd created. And suddenly, in her mind they all were replaced by the hulking figure of Jake, aided by the small but malicious form of Andrew. And there was Kathy, right in the midst of it all.
And as soon as she'd realized exactly what her unsuspecting character had gotten herself into, she had shut the laptop and taken a cold shower, determined to not think about anything that would remind her of what had happened. Because, as long as she lived, she didn't want to see Jake's face ever again. She didn't want to watch him, even in her mind, holding someone else captive. Tormenting them with his cruelty, his violence...
Kathy was her. She couldn't truthfully deny it. Andy was a bit of a different take on Booth, not the actual exact likeness of him, but Kathy was undeniably her. Everything about her matched up, from the career as a forensic anthropologist to the writing career on the side, to the cluelessness about pop culture and the accidental slips of the tongue that seemed to upset people so much.
She had trapped herself in that same situation again, without even realizing it.
And that was why Booth hadn't seen her writing at all since then. Because she was too damn scared of where the story was going to go next.
As a writer, she tried to keep to a storyline, a strict course of events that led to a set ending just as she'd been explaining to Booth only moments before. The only problem with that, though, was that it didn't always work. It was far too easy to let a story run off on its own. If a character didn't do something the right way, it had to be amended and maybe the whole section deleted. But if a character did something that felt absolutely true to form and just... fitting of the story itself, it felt like it couldn't be altered. Just as she couldn't change her own fate, she also couldn't delete the latest chapter of the story... because the moment she started writing again she would either end up in the same place or it would be totally off and she'd be stuck with permanent writer's block on a story that didn't even feel like hers anymore.
There wasn't anything she could do about it.
Suddenly aware of the internal debate she'd been having and the tense silence that filled the room, her clouded eyes made contact with Booth's worried brown ones and slowly cleared.
"Sorry, I just..."
"No, no, its-"
"Don't."
He stopped short, and stared at her in surprise. Well, he'd been about to apologize for being worried about her, when the past- how many minutes had she just zoned out for?- must have been making him crazy. If he did that, she was sure she'd have been concerned, and with every right. It wasn't his fault, not by any means.
If she was going to do this, though, and start piecing the last missing parts of her life back into the puzzle that she'd gradually been fixing- with his help, of course- she was going to need to finish that chapter. And ride out the rest of the story with it.
"I stopped working on the book on purpose," she said, her voice firm, the tremors that would have been in it held firmly back, clutched in her throat and trying desperately to escape. She swallowed them down, and went on, "I reached a... point that I couldn't go on from."
He frowned, confused, and asked a question she'd been expecting in response, "So... do you ever plan to go back to it?"
She knew that she wasn't being clear, especially with the contradicting statements about her wanting to go back to the way things had been... and then ditching it altogether. Fighting the desire to simply bite her lip and look away, avoid the conversation, she instead plunged straight in.
"I've actually just made up my mind to, no matter where it takes me." He was still frowning, waiting for a further explanation, one that would actually make sense. "Sweets would say it was my subconscious coming to me while I was writing... say it was some sort of therapeutic technique that I was doing without planning to... but I..."
"You've started putting in more of your own life," he said, suddenly getting it. His eyes had darkened, and she nodded, now allowing herself to bite her lower lip out of nervous tension.
"Are you sure that it's... Bones, are you going to, you know... send it in to your editor?"
"At some point... yes." She was no longer looking at him at all, her mind spinning with everything that she'd been thinking about over the last few minutes, going at a rate far faster than Booth could probably have kept up with.
He remained silent, and she chanced a glance at him, finding his eyes staring right back at her, smoldering with emotion.
"Bones..." he murmured, "If you are absolutely certain that this is what you want to do... I'm with you every step of the way."
She nodded back, her teeth still digging into her lower lip. Then she cautiously opened her mouth, "If... Booth, I want you to know that you aren't obligated to read my book. I'd rather you didn't, if it's going to upset you."
"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it, I guess," he said heavily, eyes never leaving hers, even though his arm tensed behind her, holding her somewhat tighter against his side.
Like he was afraid she'd slip away from him.
If I wasn't sure about last chapter... I'm certainly much more concerned about this one. *bites nails* What did you all think??
Oh, and on another note... I'm actually as clueless as Brennan about what they're going to be doing for the weekend. Anyone want to help me out with some nice suggestions?