Chapter 20: The Fifth Wheel
So sorry - so, so, sorry that this took so long. It has been growing exponentially and I have much more planned so it's not a shortage of ideas. The next two weeks will also be sparse - I'll try to get another chapter or two out - but after that, expect more regular posts! As always, I love reviews like Brennan loves Booth, but unlike her, am not afraid to confess that love.
Brennan tilted her head against the seat and tried to sleep, mimicking Cam's posture a row ahead of her. The sun was glaring in her eyes, and Booth was drooling against her shoulder. The previous eight days had been hell. Once Booth had awoken, a nurse had come in to dose him with morphine. His seven days in bed with Brennan sitting beside him and their friends circling in and out with different kinds of food had consisted primarily of two things. One, Booth had not stopped laughing. He would laugh at a joke made by wry Hodgins, sly Cam or even blatant and dry Brennan. He would laugh at sad things confessed to him (that were promptly forgotten in his drug induced haze) and he would laugh at jokes far too long, which threatened to unravel his fragile stitches. Although Brennan had both been amused and slightly irked whenever she had tried to speak with Booth about some things troubling her mind, she had not minded the laughter. It was the second one that was worse.
For eight days and nights, Booth had been proposing.
His drug induced ramblings often included fragments of his fever dream, reinforcing what Brennan had feared all along. That Booth only loved her because she had tricked him into it. Perhaps she had even tampered with his long term memory. At first trying to hide his symptoms, Brennan found she couldn't contain or avoid every single slip or outburst Booth made. It had been Sweets' turn to sit with them, much to Brennan's surliness, and they had been munching on the gourmet pizza he had brought.
"I love pizza," moaned Booth theatrically around this mouthful. "It's like pie that's not full of fruit. In fact it's called a pizza pie. Wow…pie…" he stopped chewing dreamily while Brennan laughed a little and Sweets replied,
"I still believe, Agent Booth, that your attempt to get Dr. Brennan to eat pie is a sort of seduction."
"I don't need pie to seduce her," drawled Booth, to Brennan's mortification since Sweets was unaware of their new relationship, "I got something that tastes better." There was an awkward silence while Booth rolled his eyes that were fogged full of morphine. "I meant I bake a mean cake." Both Sweets and Brennan dissolved into giggles.
"You cook Booth?" asked Brennan in astonishment. Booth nodded fervently.
"No. Not at all." More laughing.
"Can you even bake a cake?" asked Sweets, thoroughly enjoying himself.
"Out of a box," nodded Booth solemnly. He trailed off. "Box…" His eyes flipped to Brennan. "Box!" he crowed. "Damn it Bren, I forgot to buy you a wedding ring. We'll have to go to the store after we finish this pizza." Sweet's laughter abruptly cut off.
"Excuse me?" he said carefully. Booth nodded energetically.
"That's the love of my life sittin' there Sweets." Panicked, Sweets quickly glanced at Dr. Brennan, worried that Booth had completely blown his true feelings under the guise of heavy medication. He wanted to kick himself; he should have seen that coming and kept them separated.
Brennan's face, instead of blanching milk white as he had expected, was slightly mournful, and Sweets knew immediately that this wasn't the first time Booth had proposed. Dragging her arm away from the bed he leaned in and hissed,
"How long has he been like this?"
"Like the coma dream?" she whispered back heatedly. She wasn't sure why she wanted Sweets to reassure her it was the morphine ramblings of a coma dream; probably because she so desperately wanted him to hurt her, to cut her soul up in little shreds because there was no way she was allowed to be this happy. Not with Booth, not with anyone. Being this happy meant that something bad was going to happen, that the other shoe was going to drop. First her parents, then Russ, then her work, then her lovers…Booth was all she had left, and being in bliss with him was so unnaturally joyful that Brennan hated it. She hated realizing that she was so untrusting, that she was so ready for it to be a sham, so she could go back to what she knew and finally trust the ways of the world before this man came along and turned it upside down. She loved Booth heart and soul, but she wasn't naïve enough to ever believe he could love her. That was one layer he didn't know. Couldn't know. She wasn't worth loving; not by him, not by anybody. She knew that lesson painfully well.
"I meant proposing, confessing love, that sort of stuff!" Brennan blinked, nonplussed.
"You mean before or after he was shot in the kidney?" Sweets' eyes nearly bugged out of his head.
"What! He told you!"
"You knew?" Brennan immediately choked out.
"Of course I knew," sputtered Sweets. "I'm his therapist."
"It's not therapy!" called out Booth from the bed and Brennan and Sweets exchanged a guilty look.
"He told you?" Brennan could feel the little frown settling between her eyes, and she didn't want her eyes to begin swimming but they did of their own accord. She stared hard at the obscenely fair skin between Sweets' eyes without blinking to help regain composure. Sweets immediately backed down, upset that he had upset her.
"Dr. Brennan-" he began awkwardly, "Booth came to me with questions after the coma-"
"He should have come to me," she interrupted, a tad angrily. "I know him better than anyone. Certainly better than you." She left the edge in her tone, still disquieted.
"While I agree," prevaricated Sweets, "the questions were admittedly about you…"
"I know," she admitted quietly. Sweets gasped.
"You know?" She nodded affirmation.
"You know he's in love with you? No offense Dr. Brennan, but that is wicked cruel. I mean letting him go on thinking-"
"What do you mean?" she frowned clinically.
"I mean, leading him on into believing that you-"
"That I what?" she asked patiently, but her eyes narrowed further.
"I mean, you – I thought that, well, you wouldn't admit that you-"
"That I what?"
"That you…" stammered the young psychologist.
"Love him?" finished Brennan. Sweets' jaw dropped to the floor. He scrambled to regain composure.
"But in our sessions, you adamantly claimed you didn't believe in love." Brennan shrugged.
"That was true." She left it simple, and aggravating.
"But-" mouthed Sweets, gawping aimlessly.
"But," prompted Brennan, "Booth was different. He's my partner. We're partners. Nothing can change that. We'll always be together." Her heart suddenly faltered, then picked up in double time. "Nothing can change that right?" Sweets stared at her.
"Do you want the truth?" he winced. She blinked at him in confusion.
"I always want the truth."
"Booth said you had a mania," nodded Sweets.
"It's not a mania," hissed Brennan, irked, "Mania – Latin for madness, often used to describe the feats of Greek heroes-"
"Dr. Brennan," interrupted Sweets. "I'm trying to say…I don't know." Brennan took a deep breath beneath her tightly crossed arms.
"What does that mean?" Sweets uncrossed his own arms and pulled finger fulls of curly dark hair through his knuckles.
"I don't know means I don't know! I have to study how this development in your relationship affects your work. I have to clear you fit for duty. I have to make sure nothing will change. I have to make sure…my God what if you get married? Or have chil-"
"Sweets!" exclaimed Brennan. "It hasn't come to marriage. We only began to be engaged in sexual intercourse a week ago." That shut Sweets up before he erupted.
"You had sex? How many times?" Brennan blushed and shrugged.
"How many times have you had intercourse with Daisy?" Sweets suddenly cleared his throat.
"Oh…I..ah…see your point." Sweets blinked. "But you…you two are now…in a relationship?"
"We were always in a relationship," she snapped back. Sweets leveled a look at her, and she knew what he meant, poor at non verbal communication or not, his glare was about as subtle as a freight train.
"It just happened," she shrugged. "Last Thursday or so." Sweets' eyebrows raised.
"We should discuss at length how to better ascertain-"
"Sweets! What are you telling Bones? I want my partner back – I need her!" With a sigh of gratitude, Brennan ducked around Sweets and flitted back to Booth's bedside only to groan. He had somehow unhooked his St. Christopher's medal and kept one medallion on the chain around his neck, and the other clutched between his thumb and forefinger.
"Will you take this?" he begged her, his little boy's smile wreathing his face in grins; Brennan's heart hitched and skipped a beat. It was probably the best proposal he could have thought of, even when not on drugs.
"Booth," she whispered painfully and he dropped a puppy dog look on her.
"Please Bones, just this once. Just keep it so I know that you love me." She hesitated, before gently lifting the medallion from between his fingers. He caught her hand in his and kissed it slowly. Brennan blushed at how quickly his heart rate sped up according to the monitors, and how hers so immediately responded. She quickly became irritated at Sweets' smug little face across from her and went to shove the St. Christopher's medal in her pocket.
"No." Booth stopped her by leaning forward suddenly before he winced in agony. Immediately chastised, Brennan froze and let him catch his breath to speak.
"Wear it," he wheezed and she obediently complied, hooking it to the necklace she had on until it hung glinting a scant few inches above her breasts. Seemingly appeased, Booth sank back into his pillows and fell asleep.
It hadn't taken Sweets long to tell the others with his big mouth, but only Angela gave her much flack…and Daisy, whom Brennan preferred not to dwell on. Instead, most of the others just took it for granted; Brennan was happy they didn't all assume (unlike Angela, whom she knew meant well regardless) that she and Booth were actually engaged. She only wore the medallion to keep him at ease and to finally stop him from embarrassingly proposing at inopportune moments.
However, Booth's frequent use of her new nickname of "Bren," which only Angela had previously called her, both unnerved and flattered her. She was convinced he was living in some sort of his previous fantasy world and knew that when he came down from his drifting high that he wouldn't remember anything that had occurred. She would slip the medallion back into his pocket, and all would be righted once more.
However, that wasn't how it occurred. When they had finally been given leave to sign Booth out of the hospital, he seemed genuinely happy with himself that he had thought to give her the medallion.
"Keep it," he had urged her, when she attempted to give it back.
"Booth," she hesitated, unhappy with his seeming delusions. Booth leveled a glare at her which was somewhat tampered by his limping to a wheelchair to be wheeled to the minivan Hodgins was much too excited to drive.
"Bones," his voice was serious. "We're partners; St. Christopher protects travelers and we're both injured - traveling cross country in a car…" his voice dropped to a whisper, "with Angela. And the whole Squint Squad!" Brennan dissolved into laughter. He always knew how to diffuse a situation.
"Well, when you put it like that," she sighed. Her brow furrowed. "You do know that in Ireland, which was Celtic, Saint Patrick was actually a missionary sent to stop pagan worship by integrating many Celtic beliefs with Catholocism such as the triquetra which symbolized Maiden, Mother, Ancient Crone into-"
"The Holy Trininty," grunted Booth, sliding open the van door with a heave. Brennan's jaw dropped as Cam shook her head disparagingly and attempted to help drag Booth's arm into the van. "I got it," he snapped at her. "I'm not 80."
"You're acting like it," Cam retorted, her eyes sparkling with humor. "Come on Booth, step up and be a man."
"Camille," he seethed through his teeth, dragging himself with a groan into the very back bench seat and settled against it panting. "Stop babying me." Angela flounced up.
"Shotgun!" she crowed and Hodgins looked immediately satisfied that he would be sitting next to his previous lover…and not so previous love for the next 40 hours.
"Dr. Brennan – I mean," Cam hesitated again and stumbled slightly over her name, "Brennan – I assume you'd like to ride in the back with Booth?"
"He doesn't have much upper body strength or core; it would be an egregious error to let him flop around." Cam wanted to laugh, but instead compressed her lips tightly together at Brennan still clinging to a scrap of dignity and denial.
"Flop around?" panted Booth, opening his eyes, scoffing. "Flop around! What am I a trout?"
"Trout –" Brennan began but Hodgins cut her off eagerly.
"Trout are amazing. When I go camping I love-"
"You camp Hodgins?" laughed Angela, swinging herself into the van's front seat. "I pegged you more for a chalet in the woods or ski resort kind of guy." Brennan opened her mouth to question Booth again about his knowledge of Celtic melding of Catholocism, but was interrupted again by Hodgins and finally conceded defeat.
"I didn't say I don't bring the necessities," said Hodgins in a low rumble. "You know…like body heat…" the two shared a smoldering look that Cam wanted to scream at but instead turned away, acutely feeling like the proverbial third wheel…fifth wheel in a double pairing. She had often felt the odd man out, long before Brennan and Booth had ever admitted their relationship.
"Seeley," she ordered in a steely tone, climbing next to him in the back and gripping his shoulder. "Turn over. Let me have a look at your stitches."
"Camille," he groaned, "Don't call me Seeley."
"Don't call me Camille," she laughed. It sounded false and Booth noticed, giving her a searching glance that she quickly deflected by yanking his shirt up over his gorgeous body and gently unsticking the gauze over his back left hip.
"Does this hurt?" she asked quietly, gently probing with her perfectly manicured but short nails; she couldn't be having long nails when she was literally up to her elbows in corpse gore day by day. Maggots did not play well with nail polish.
"Camille," he said softly, "Cam…" she laughed, quickly shook her head, eyes overbright as she realized that she was trapped in a car with two budding families, and retreated.
"Brennan, get in here." Brennan climbed warily into the van, seemingly ignorant of what a mini van even was. Cam had the satisfaction of Booth's concerned gaze roving her own body searching for non verbal cues which she hid expertly with her training as an officer, and instead watched his eyes light with the fire he reserved for one person and one woman alone. He had held that light in his eyes for almost four years since she had come to join his little "Squint Squad" but now it was untamed and unshielded, like a candle whose cover had been lifted away.
Brennan noticed Booth's grey face and quickly buckled herself in a seat away from him on the bench seat.
"Hey," frowned Booth, upset at her distance.
"You look tired," she informed him haughtily, glancing out the window. "I know if I sit next to you, all you'll do is bug me."
"Interesting," said a new voice, and all five of them stopped their respective conversations to see Sweets' overly large curly head poking into the van, a bright grin wreathing his face. "That's very interesting."
"Don't say it like that," chorused Booth and Angela simultaneously. They blinked and looked at each other, both blushing thinking Sweets had been commenting on them.
"That's interesting," chortled Sweets at the new development. Cam rolled her eyes.
"Okay brilliant Dr. Sweets, we give you a prize for vague and irritating statements. Hodgins will be driving," she immediately got down to business, moderating her tone; she didn't need both Booth and Sweets on her stupid nostalgic trail. She was probably about to start her period, which would explain her introspection and persistent irritability at her friends absolutely every day behavior. "Just follow the van."
"Do we get to name it?" chirped Hodgins excitedly. He pretended to snap driving goggles over his face. "The bug mobile. Driven by the bug and slime guy."
"Ew," Angela crinkled her nose. Hodgins turned unbelievably blue eyes on her, and Angela saw them dilate widely as they always did when he looked at her. Although she was used to the reaction from men, when Hodgins did it it was both excessively flattering and unnerving.
"We could name it something else," he assured her hurriedly, watching her carefully styled hair slip silkily over her skin. He yanked his eyes to her face but got stuck on her mouth. Angela looked shyly down; shy only when Hodgins was looking at her.
"Not the bug mobile," she said with a sarcastic edge, and the mood broke as she had hoped it would. She twisted in her seat, but no one else had seemed to notice their lingering moment. She desperately wished Brennan was more of a girl, so she would be able to ask if that was how she felt when she was talking to Booth. Hell, she thought in awe, Hodgins and I were talking about bugs for God's sake.
"Daisy and I will be right behind you," beamed Sweets.
"Don't crash head long," smiled Booth, his face like a cat in cream. Sweets blushed dully and Cam high fived him over the seat. Both Angela and Hodgins missed the moment and were confused at Cam and Booth's chuckling. Brennan blinked.
"I don't know what that means," she said blankly but her face dawned as she turned excitedly to Booth. "Oh! Do you mean Sweets will be receiving fellatio from…"
"Oh my God," Angela squawked, suddenly very in the conversation, "What are you guys talking about?"
"Nothing," said Sweets hastily, still a dull red. He pulled his head out from the car quickly. "I'm going to get in my car now." Laughter echoed after his footsteps.
"You're right Bones," yawned Booth suddenly. "I am tired." Surprised but feeling no pleasure at being correct Brennan nodded.
"I figured as much. Your medicat- Booth!" Expecting him to lean tiredly against the window, she jumped when he dropped like a felled tree and instead rested his head in her lap. Angela grinned wickedly.
"So many jokes…so little time."
"Can I sleep here?" asked Booth innocently, his face pressing against her stomach as he turned his eyes up to meet hers. Blushing slightly Brennan shrugged.
"If you're comfortable."
"Oh yeah," yawned Booth in exaggeration, patting her stomach. "This is very comforta- hey!" Brennan had swatted him.
"Booth," she fumed.
"You're the one who loves donuts," he grinned up at her.
"You ate eight and a half cups of pudding today," Brennan informed him. His face scowled but his eyes didn't.
"I would have eaten nine, but you ate half of the last chocolate."
Feeling a little sick at their adorableness, Cam leaned forward to talk to Angela through eye signals. She then noticed she and Hodgins were laughing about their last vacation.
"Remember when the heat went out?" snorted Hodgins. "And we were completely snowed in?"
"It wasn't even like the apartment was furnished," laughed Angela, "there was only an end table and a couch."
"So we made a mattress of couch cushions and-"
"You hacked up the end table by bludgeoning it to death with one of the legs?" finished Angela.
"Then we lit it on fire," nodded Hodgins.
"In the fireplace!" protested Angela. "It's not like we had electricity…it was the least we could do. Plus, I got very hungry."
"Me too," said Hodgins in a dark, seductive tone. Angela giggled and blushed like a young girl in love, instead of the woman she was.
"That bed out of musty old couch cushions while we watched the legs of the end table burn…" she sighed. "That was probably the most romantic thing I've ever done."
"More romantic than Shark Island with Grayson?" She nodded fervently. Hodgins' eyes twinkled. "More than our first date on the swing set?" Angela smiled helplessly.
"Yes," she confessed, twirling her heavy beaded necklace around her fingers.
"More romantic than the glowing shrimp?" Angela hummed.
"Tie," she said decisively. The both blinked at Cam suddenly leaning forward. They both laughed a little in embarrassment, and both wondered how long she had been there.
"Yeah Cam?" asked Angela. Cam shook her head quickly.
"I was thinking about riding with Sweets because…" she cast around for a reason but was saved the trouble by Hodgins.
"Ugh so you could be with the newly engaged couple while they made smoochy faces at each other?" Cam's wide eyes suddenly recalled the presence of Daisy, who grated on her last nerve more than anyone Cam had ever met.
"Oh you are so wise Dr. Hodgins," she said quickly and leaned back. Booth and Bones were talking quietly, Booth's face laughing into Brennan's thighs, causing her to laugh breathlessly as his hot breath fanned against her skin.
Cam instead pulled out her phone to text Michelle only to remember she was at Perry's house, probably doing similar cuddling with her own boyfriend. Cam felt a flash of irritation. How is it that my 16 year old daughter is doing better than I am? Instead, she leaned back and tried to close her eyes.
"Cam," whispered Brennan, leaning forward. "Do you have anything to eat?" Cam refrained from the flippant comment that she could devour Booth, but shook her head.
"I'm starving," sighed Hodgins, Angela agreed and Cam stubbornly folded her arms.
"I'm fed up….I mean full up." She sighed and closed her eyes and tried to sleep.
It was going to be a long drive to DC.