A/N: Only 50 more days until this hiatus is over … Hope this next chapter helps you pass the time. Thank you to everyone who has supported this story so far.
Disclaimer: I own nothing Bones related except my imagination.
Booth's eyes were starting to burn he'd been staring at the computer screen for so long. With no active investigation of his own right now to garner his attention, he'd spent the last three days pouring over the paperwork for other ongoing investigations that had been submitted to him for review by the field agents who report directly to him. Most were of cases that had stalled, known leads having led to dead ends. Booth was providing a fresh pair of eyes, the hope being that his insight and experience could provide the lead investigators new directions to pursue.
He sat back in his chair, head tipped back and arms raised high to stretch out some of the kinks from sitting in one position so long. Days of inactivity invariably aggravated the long list of aches and pains he'd acquired over the years. Coffee – that's what he needed he decided, standing up and grabbing the mostly empty mug off the corner of his desk.
Looking up as he walked into the break room, he saw Dr. Sweets standing by the coffee pot, pouring the last drops from the coffee pot into his own mug. Sweets greeted Booth with a cheerful smile. "Good morning Agent Booth. Taking a break?"
"Yeah, I'm not used to spending this much time just sitting in front of a computer. If we don't get a new case soon, I may just have to go shoot someone myself."
Sweets chuckled. "You'd never get away with it. You know Dr. Brennan would catch you."
Despite the fact that Booth believed Sweets was probably right, he felt compelled to deny it. There was a subtle (and sometimes not-so-subtle) component of competitiveness in his relationship with Bones, and he'd never yield the field of battle to her that easily. "Nah. I could out smart Bones if I really wanted to. No way she'd catch me if I didn't want her to," he claimed with a cocky smirk, crossing his arms and puffing up his chest a bit.
Sweet's rolled his eyes as he grabbed a fresh coffee filter from the cupboard, preparing to make another pot. "Speaking of your partner, are you going to the annual Jeffersonian Gala this weekend?"
"Yeah, of course. I go every year," Booth answered.
"True. Will you be escorting Dr. Brennan again like you have the past few years?"
Booth flashed an irritated frown at Sweets. "No," he answered, adopting a tone like he was speaking to a simpleton. "I'm with Hannah now. Therefore, I will be escorting Hannah to the gala. You know what? Let's just talk about work instead. Okay? Just focus on the investigations."
"Okay. Sure," Sweets conceded. He was used to Booth redirecting the conversation away from topics that made him uncomfortable and had enough experience with the agent to know when not to push. "How're things going with your review of the files? Find anything helpful yet?"
Sweets was also reviewing many of the same case files as Booth, with the same objective. They chit-chatted about the various cases as Sweets refilled the coffee maker with fresh water and they waited for another round of brew to percolate, both summarizing for the other what research they'd finished and how little new information either one had found so far.
As they chatted, Sweets covertly studied Booth. There was a certain aura of tension about him that probably wouldn't be detectable to someone who didn't know him well, but Sweets had been studying Booth for a long time now and was pretty familiar with Booth's tells. Sweets was fairly certain that the source of this tension wasn't the current cases, but rather, the two women in Booth's life. Looks like time for a little probing, he thought, knowing Booth would likely resist, get angry, and shut him down, like usual. Regardless, Sweets felt it was his responsibility to try and help Booth, both because of his role as the FBI shrink and, more importantly, his role as Booth's friend. Raising his mug to his lips to take a sip of the bitter brew he'd poured before the last pot ran dry, he casually redirected their conversation. "So, how are things going with you and Hannah these days?"
Booth gave him a mildly annoyed and slightly suspicious look. "They're fine, Sweets. Just fine."
"Good. So you guys have adjusted to living together without any major issues?"
"Yeah. It's actually been easier than I expected in some ways." They had the usual squabbles over things like who left the lid off the toothpaste or who finished the milk and didn't get more, but those were minor issues and Booth was confident they'd work through them. "We both spend most of the day and a couple nights a week out of the apartment for work so we're not tripping over each other much. Hannah doesn't have much in the way of stuff, so she's been easy to accommodate."
"Good. Good to hear. And with Dr. Brennan? No residual awkwardness from when she confessed to having feelings for you?"
Now, more annoyed and uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation, Booth snapped at him angrily. "Bones and I are fine, okay Sweets? I'm fine. Hannah's fine. Bones is fine. Bones and Hannah are fine with each other. Why the hell do you have to keep asking me these same questions over and over when I keep telling you over and over that we're all fine? Just fine."
Sweets just casually shrugged his shoulders, taking another sip of coffee while acting unfazed by the aggressive hostility now emanating from Booth and responded calmly. "I expect I keep asking because I don't really believe your answers. You're in a situation that's fraught with emotional landmines and your simplistic responses are given too cavalierly for me to accept that things are wrapped up as nicely as you imply. To be perfectly honest, I don't think you believe your answers either and some day, when you're finally ready to talk about it, I want you to know I'll be here, ready to listen."
Taken aback, Booth looked at him like he was crazy. "Great. That's just fucking great, Sweets. Don't hold your breath though buddy," Booth grumbled, debating whether he really need the coffee badly enough to stick around and put up with Sweets. Booth stood there stubbornly silent for a moment, drumming his fingers on the counter, waiting impatiently for the coffee to finish percolating and could feel Sweet's eyes boring into him. "What the hell does that even mean anyway? That you don't think I believe myself? In English please, not shrink?"
Even though he was young, by all quantifiable measures, Dr. Lance Sweets was recognized as a brilliant clinical psychologist. Sweets had spent a few years now studying Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan's interactions with rapt fascination. Despite their continual attempts to block him, misdirect him, stonewall him, and avoid him, he'd developed pretty strong insights into their relationship and how they interact with one another. In Dr. Sweet's opinion based on his current observations, Booth was essentially 'dating' both women – Hannah and Dr. Brennan, even if none of the three of them acknowledged it as such.
Hannah fulfilled the traditional role of a stereotypical girlfriend and provided a companion for social events, someone to laugh and have lighthearted fun with, as well as someone to share physical intimacies with. But Sweets knew Booth was a haunted man who still continually wrestled with the demons from his past and Dr. Brennan fulfilled his need to connect to someone on a more deeply emotional front. She was his rock and his anchor. His touchstone. She was a balm to his soul, and a necessary balm at that. She knew many of his darkest secrets and his fears and she provided him unwavering, unconditional love and steady support without judgment, even if neither of them were willing to admit that she was doing it. When the hounds of hell came nipping at Booth's heels, making him doubt himself or his God, she was the Angel of Goodness that he turned to in order to restore his faith and heal his spirit. She'd done it time and again over the years. Sweets found that rather ironic given her personal views on faith and religion.
By Sweet's assessment, Booth wanted what he had with Hannah, but he needed what he had with Dr. Brennan. By maintaining his current relationships with both women, all his basic needs were being met and he was happy . . . or, at least, he was able to fool himself that he was happy.
If Hannah were to leave him, Booth would no doubt be angry. He'd sulk. He'd question his self-worth. He'd probably even be hurt a little, but it would essentially be a superficial wound and would heal with a little time and distance. On the other hand, if Dr. Brennan were to leave him, Sweets wasn't sure Booth would ever truly recover. He'd be consumed by the darkness he carries inside and unless Hannah had depths as yet unseen, she'd not be able to pull him out and Sweets believed Booth would ultimately end up losing her too.
What Sweets didn't know was how long the three of them could maintain the current balance of this quasi-love triangle they'd set up. He didn't doubt that Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan could carry on the façade for a long, long time if they chose to. The willpower and devotion to each other they'd exhibited in the past proved they were both capable of carrying on whatever masquerade they felt was necessary to keep them united, but Dr. Brennan was obviously hurting a lot more visibly this time around and Sweets could see that was causing cracks in the foundations for both Booth and Brennan. How deep those cracks went was still unclear. Additionally, Hannah was wild card. She was a smart and ambitious woman and Sweets suspected that she'd eventually recognize she only had (and would ever have) a piece of Booth, even if the recognition was only subconscious. He expected that when that happened, she'd challenge either Booth or Dr. Brennan in some fashion, upsetting the balance of their triad and the whole illusion would come crashing down leaving who knew what carnage in its wake.
"Do you remember a couple years ago, you, Dr. Brennan, and I discussed what surrogate relationships are and how they can influence other relationships during one of the sessions in my office?"
Booth regarded Sweets cautiously as he finally poured his own cup of hot, freshly brewed adrenaline booster. "Yeah. I remember. What about it?"
Sweets just stood there silently, leaning against the break room counter and gently swirling his drink with a coffee stirrer, while he watched Booth, waiting for him to make the connection.
Picking up his mug, Booth looked over at Sweets, his brow furrowed as he tried to understand exactly what Sweets was implying. When it finally hit him, he felt a flash of panic and anger and latched on to the anger, trying to ignore the panic. "What? You think Hannah is a . . . a surrogate for Bones? You're way off base there pal. I love Hannah, got that? She is not a consolation prize or a surrogate or anything else. She is the woman I love and you . . . you just need to keep your shrinky brain out of my personal business. Got it? No more fucking meddling in my love life, damn it."
And on that note, Booth turned on his heel and stormed out of the break room, back to his own office, cursing loudly as some of the hot coffee splashed onto his hand.
Sweets watched him go, not at all surprised by Booth's reaction. Well, that wasn't entirely true. He was maybe a little surprised in that he had partially expected Booth to throw a punch at him before storming out.
Sweets sighed deeply. If he was wrong and Booth truly loved Hannah the way he claimed, Sweets didn't want to interfere in their relationship or mess it up. But, every time he saw Booth and Brennan together, he saw evidence of a relationship that was so much more than just a partnership. He saw mutual respect and affection, admiration and commitment that ran so deep it was humbling. He just hoped that Booth would eventually calm down and honestly consider whether or not Hannah was the real deal before something got broke in his relationship with Dr. Brennan that couldn't be fixed.
Booth stormed back into his office slamming his door closed behind him. Damn fucking shrink. What the hell did a fucking toddler know about relationships between men and women anyway? It's not like Sweets' love life was any great beacon on a hill to be following. Just look at how screwed up his on-again/off-again relationship with Daisy was.
Of course, as Booth plopped himself back down into his chair behind his desk, he couldn't help but picture Brennan's face as they sat at the diner a couple weeks ago while she asked him how to fall out of love with someone. He'd floundered through that conversation as best he could at the time considering he'd been completely unprepared for it. But later that night as he laid in his bed in the dark, thinking back on their talk (and every time since that he'd thought about it, if he was being honest - including now) he'd felt like he was having a mild panic attack – heart palpitations, shortness of breath, tremors in his hands.
Booth held his head in his hands, elbows on his desk, closed his eyes and focused on taking deep breaths. He had finally admitted to himself just recently that he was scared shitless that one day soon he'd look into Bones' eyes across the table at the diner and see . . . nothing. No lingering warmth, no laughter, no compassion, no love. Just empty, emotionless cool blue eyes staring back at him like she did to so many others who held no special place in her life. The image gave him nightmares. He was scared shitless that she'd no longer bother to argue with him or try to correct him or challenge his precepts, to help him evolve she'd said; that she'd no longer share her quirky humor with him; and that she'd no longer place her delicate hand on his forearm when his emotions started feeling out of control, telling him without words that she understood, cared, and still believed in him. He couldn't count the number of times in the past that she'd soothed him with just a simple touch.
Booth hadn't had a truly good night of sleep since.
While he wasn't anywhere near ready to admit it to Sweets (or anyone else for that matter), Booth acknowledged to himself that the young psychologist wasn't completely off-base with his comments. If Booth didn't believe there was a kernel of truth in his comments, he wouldn't have reacted so viscerally to them.
He was also coming to recognize that if Hannah was truly everything to him that he claimed she was, he shouldn't still have this overwhelming need to connect with Bones all the time. If he didn't get to see her or speak to her almost daily, he felt off-kilter and out-of-sorts. He wanted to remain her confidant and her protector. The thought of her finding someone else for those roles made him nuts. That long ago night after they met with Sweets about his book, when she turned him down, he told her he had to move on, and so he did. He found Hannah. But he never truly thought about what it might mean for Bones to move on too and now that he was being confronted with that possibility, he didn't like it. At all.
Which left him wondering, where did that leave him and Hannah?
A/N: What do you think?