A/N: Thanks for the reviews. I love the feedback.
Disclaimer: I own nothing Bones related except my imagination.
The next couple weeks passed by uneventfully. Brennan had been a little anxious that things between her and Booth would change as a result of her admitting her feelings – that he might distance himself from her - but, her concerns were needless. For better or worse, they had been dragged into another homicide case within a couple days. The standardized routine they'd developed over the years for assessing the scene of a crime in the field enabled them to comfortably fall back into their familiar professional roles while they both surreptitiously assessed the other's behavior. By the time the FBI techs were released to pack up the remains for delivery to the Jeffersonian, Booth and Brennan were back to bickering over inconsequential things and neither felt the necessity to tiptoe around eggshells with the other anymore.
Since that encounter, they'd met several times at the diner, for coffee or for lunch. Their get-togethers these days were almost always instigated by a work related purpose, but, as is common between good friends, once together their conversations would frequently drift into more personal areas too – updates on how Parker or Pops were doing, the latest news on Brennan's book publication, which of Booth's sports teams he was excited about at the moment, or speculation as to whether Max was staying out of trouble. Things of that nature.
Anyone observing them wouldn't have noticed a difference in their interactions if comparing before and after Brennan's declaration of her feelings. To Brennan's way of thinking, nothing had really changed. She'd always harbored feelings for Booth and she'd always suppressed the urge to share or act on those feelings, often times rambling about some obscure scientific fact as a means to deflect a situation that had the potential to become awkward.
But Booth was having a harder time leaving that discussion in the truck behind. The image of her tear streaked face and the sound of her voice as she told him she regretted not taking that chance kept popping into his mind – when he was in the shower, when he was working at his desk, when he was tossing a ball with Parker, or when he was in bed with Hannah. It didn't seem to matter what he was doing or who he was with, his mind kept going back to that night and replaying her words. The more he tried to block out the memory, the more it re-appeared.
Booth figured that since he no longer had those feelings for Bones, there could really only be one explanation for why the memory of that night was effectively haunting him. Guilt. Even though it wasn't his fault and he hadn't been the one to open that can of worms, he figured he was obviously feeling guilty about not telling Hannah what happened. It's true that nothing inappropriate had actually occurred between him and Bones before he met Hannah or since, but his gut told him that Brennan's confession was important, and obviously important things should be shared with your romantic partners, so he reasoned his silence on the topic must be making him feel guilty and unable to shake the memory of that night. Since he wasn't in love with Bones, there's no way his struggles could be related to regret or residual feelings on his part he told himself.
Finally, early one morning when he found himself standing in the break room, staring into his coffee cup yet again as he stirred the murky brew, thinking about Bones, he decided he needed to talk to Sweets before he drove himself crazy. He knew Sweets frequently worked out in the FBI Fitness Center at the start of the day, so he set his mug on the counter and headed down to the gym in the basement in search of some shrinky advice.
And what did the good psychologist have to say? Perhaps this is difficult because you still have feelings for Dr. Brennan.
That was NOT the feedback Booth had been looking for. No, no, no. He did NOT still have feelings for Bones. That was all in the past, dammit.
Annoyed, he stormed out of the gym and vowed to tell all to Hannah later that night, certain that would resolve his unsettled feelings.
The next evening, Brennan strode into the lobby of the Hoover building armed with the latest information her team at the Jeffersonian had uncovered in their current investigation into the death of Jenny Yang. The victim had slept with someone shortly before her death and they had been able to extract measurements of that someone's tibia from a recently recovered video. The information would be more useful in eliminating suspects than conclusively identifying one, but that didn't make it less important. Booth was about to interrogate Jenny's former boyfriend, Ming Tsou, and had called Brennan to help, wanting both her insights into Chinese culture and her forensic knowledge.
As Brennan approached the elevator, she saw Agent Charlie Burns headed in the same direction. Brennan had worked with Charlie long enough now to realize that he was very proficient at ferreting out difficult to obtain information and Booth relied on him heavily. She'd come to like and respect him over the years they'd worked together even though her direct interactions with him were infrequent.
Charlie stopped and waited for Brennan when he saw her approaching and they walked the last little bit to the elevators together.
"Evening, Dr. Brennan. Here to help Agent Booth interrogate Ming Tsou?"
"Yes, Agent Burns. I've some information that may be of use in our questioning."
"That's great." Charlie smiled at her fondly as they entered the elevator, the only two people in the cab. "I don't know how the two of you do it, but I'm really glad that you're still able to work together. Booth would be lost without you. Hell, we'd all be lost without you."
Brennan frowned at him. "I don't know what you mean. Why wouldn't we be able to work together?"
"Oh, you know. Because of your personal issues." At Brennan's blank look, Charlie expounded. "Booth being with Hannah, you wanting to be with him, him telling you no." By the time Charlie finished his sentence, he realized he'd probably said too much. Brennan's eyes had turned an icy blue, her jaw was clenched, and her nostrils flared. You didn't have to be an investigator for the FBI to pick up on the fact that her mood had just gone from pleasantly friendly to royally pissed off.
"Sounds as though the FBI rumor mill has been working overtime again," Brennan uttered through gritted teeth.
"Uh, yeah. Hey. I'm sorry. I was, uh, I was out of line and shouldn't have said anything," Charlie apologized, thinking back on the conversation he'd overheard yesterday afternoon between Agent Mitchells and Agent Peterson.
"Hey, man. Guess what happened in the gym this morning?"
"What? Did ya finally lift more weight than your grandmother could?"
"Ha ha ha. Funny guy. No. Stephenson said Booth came in to the gym all bent out of shape and told Sweets that his sexy partner told him she was in love with him a couple weeks ago."
"No way. You're shitting me. She finally admitted it?"
"Honest to God. Stephenson was jogging on the treadmill right next to Sweets and said they weren't even trying to keep their conversation private. He heard the whole thing."
"Damn. What'd Booth say to her?"
"That's the freaking amazing part. After all they've been through and as tight as they are, the idiot actually rejected her, if you can believe it. Told her he's happy with his current girlfriend and she's shit-out-of-luck."
"Dude, leave it to Booth to have two hot women fighting over him. I gotta tell you though, he's got bigger balls than me, that's for sure. I wouldn't want to be on Dr. Brennan's bad side and I wouldn't want to be in Booth's shoes if the Director hears he fucked up his relationship with the Jeffersonian either."
The elevator dinged announcing they'd reached their floor and Charlie turned to Brennan again, feeling miserable. "Look, Dr. Brennan . . . "
"No," she interrupted him. "You don't owe me any apologies Agent Burns. You did not create this situation. Now, if you'll excuse me."
Brennan stepped hurriedly out of the elevator but instead of turning left, towards Booth's office, like normal, she turned right and stepped into the ladies bathroom.
Brennan was glad to find the bathroom currently empty, but shut herself into a toilet stall anyway, in case anyone wandered in. She stood there in the toilet compartment with her head against the door and tried to reign in her rioting emotions with deep calming breaths.
It had been humiliating enough earlier in the day learning that Booth had shared her confession about her feelings with Hannah. Booth had to know how difficult it had been for her to admit she loved him and she had assumed he would respect her privacy, but apparently not. She had been surprised and hurt to discover he'd revealed her feelings to Hannah, but was trying to accept the argument that he had been compelled to tell Hannah because they were intimately involved.
But Booth was not intimately involved in a relationship with Agent Burns.
Which meant that he'd obviously been indiscreet in discussing it with someone else and Brennan felt a deep sense of betrayal. Whatever happened to 'what's theirs was theirs?'
Agent Burns was a sweet and decent guy. If the news had made it to him, she could only assume that it had effectively spread throughout the whole FBI. Everyone knew that she told Booth she was in love with him. Everyone knew he rejected her . . . that she wasn't good enough for him, that she couldn't hold on to his love, that he preferred someone else to her. Anthropologically, her status as an alpha female had just been diminished in the eyes of the pack.
Brennan felt nauseous and forced herself to focus on her breathing, relying on years of yoga and meditation exercises to bring her back on center. She was angry at Booth for so cavalierly bandying about what she had shared with him in confidence. For now, she'd focus on that anger to keep her composed and save the wallowing in hurt and self-pity until she was alone again in her own home.
When she felt cool, calm, and collected again she left the restroom and headed to Booth's office to let him know she was there and ready for the interrogation.
Ming Tsou was not their man. He was too tall, his tibia too long. As Booth and Brennan left the interrogation room, she delivered her opinion to him in a cool, professional manner while barely looking at him, then turned to leave without even saying farewell. Booth had noticed she was abrupt and a little impatient during the interview with Ming, but had assumed it was because she was angry on Jenny Yang's behalf. Now, he wasn't so sure.
Before she could get more than a couple steps away, Booth stopped her. "Bones? Wait up a minute. Is everything okay? You seem upset."
Brennan came to a standstill, but didn't turn back around to face him. She wasn't entirely certain she could handle this confrontation right now, but she felt betrayed by Booth and thought she needed to tell him so. Crossing her arms defensively across her chest but keeping her back to him, she answered coolly. "While I can understand and accept that you felt it necessary to tell Hannah about my revealing my feelings to you, I am finding it very . . . distressing that you treated my admission with so little regard as to share it with the entire FBI."
"What are you talking about?" Booth asked with genuine confusion as she started to walk forward again. "Stop. Would you just stop and look at me?"
Brennan halted, looking at him over her shoulder, and he was taken aback by the mix of hurt and anger he saw in her eyes. "Agent Burns commended me earlier for continuing to work with you after your rejection of me the other night. Tell me, Booth, how is it that Agent Burns knows the details of what transpired between us, hmm?"
"I . . . ah, I don't know, Bones." Booth was genuinely confused and racked his brain for understanding. He hadn't told anyone but Hannah and Sweets and he trusted both of them to keep it quiet. Sweets. Shit. He'd been so tangled up in his thoughts the other morning that he'd sought Sweets out in a public forum. His mind had been so focused on wanting peace that he hadn't paid attention to where he was or who else was within earshot when he told Sweets about Bone's feelings. Damn. Someone must've overheard and informed the FBI gossip hotline. Damn, damn, damn.
"It was not easy for me to tell you how I feel, you know. I'm not good with emotions and letting you know that I'm in love with you . . . well, I've never said those words to another man. It wasn't a confession made lightly. In the past, we've always been able to tell each other things as partners without fear of being mocked despite our differences. Has that changed Booth? Can I no longer trust you with private information, even just as a friend?"
"No. Um, yes. I mean, uh, no that hasn't changed Bones. Yes, you can still trust me. With anything." Booth was scrambling. He felt a sense of panic that somehow he'd done something unforgivable - something that could drive a wedge between him and Bones. He'd seen her upset or annoyed with him many times over the years, but the icy aloofness she was projecting right now was something new. Booth didn't want this cool, detached version of Bones to deal with. He didn't want the wall between them that he sensed she was going to erect. No, he wanted the open woman with the heart of gold, his warm and quirky friend. "You're still my partner Bones. Partners can trust each other. They'd die for one another. I mentioned our chat to Sweets. I needed some help dealing with it and I didn't wait until we were behind closed doors. Someone must've overheard. If I betrayed your trust in doing that, then I'm sorry. More sorry than you'll ever know, Bones. That wasn't my intent."
Brennan studied him for a moment. He seemed sincere. She decided that however Agent Burns came by his information, it didn't appear as though Booth intentionally revealed her secrets. She just needed a little time to adjust to the knowledge that her inner thoughts and feelings had been so publically exposed.
Brennan nodded her head once in acknowledgement and acceptance of his apology. "I'm going back to the lab for a while. Good night Booth." There was still a remoteness to her tone, but her eyes had lost some of their chill. She was still angry, he knew, but with her next words, he felt certain they'd be okay. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"Good night Bones. See you tomorrow."
A/N: This chapter didn't turn out exactly the way I planned at the start, but hopefully it worked ok anyway. BTW – for those who care, I joined twitter a few weeks ago. Thought I'd mention it for those who are interested.