A/N – Thank you for reading along. You guys are the best.
This chapter is pretty much nothing that I expected. LOL I know the tone is a little different that previous installments but it's where the muse pulled me so I had to go. I'm really interested to hear what you guys think, so be honest.
Oh, and we're definitely in the home stretch. Just 1-2 chapters left.
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At this point in their relationship, Sweets is used to being railroaded by Booth and Brennan.
They evade questions, daydream during sessions, ridicule his therapeutic techniques. They blow off appointments, gang up on him, laugh over private, little jokes. Most days, he considers it a minor miracle that they show up at all, that they're even willing to sit across from him and (pretend to) listen to what he has to say.
But the thing is, he'd thought that they'd made some progress. He'd thought they'd established some small degree of trust, maybe even respect. Brennan had announced her desire for a child in Sweets' office, after all, and brazenly suggested that Agent Booth was the perfect donor for such an endeavor with the psychologist sitting right there.
That had to count for something. That had to say something about how comfortable they felt with him.
Well, Dr. Brennan anyway.
Booth has always taken great joy in unleashing his own special brand of hostility.
So now, just boiling with righteous indignation, Sweets is ready to finally give him a taste of his own medicine, a little fire and brimstone Sweets-style.
"*You're* angry?" He glares at Booth, feeling his blood pressure rise. "*You're* frustrated? You go around letting everyone and their mother in on the fact that you two are sleeping together and you're annoyed that *I* know? You've got to be kidding me. You don't get to be annoyed. You don't get to be pissed off. I do… and I am. I'm pissed off. I'm *super* pissed off right now."
He feels slightly like a three year old, throwing a tantrum because mommy won't give him another juice box, but he can't help himself. He's their freaking therapist. More than that, he's their friend. He doesn't understand why these two persist with this 'the two of us against the world' bullshit. They have friends. They have allies. He doesn't know why that's so hard for them to acknowledge.
Booth sighs, shaking his head. Dr. Brennan merely leans back in her chair, looking as cool and collected as ever.
"Settle down there, Sweets," Booth says. "This isn't about you, okay? This is about me and Bones and it's not-"
"I'm your therapist. We do nothing in my office but discuss your relationship. Don't you think honesty on this subject would be appropriate?"
Booth stays stubbornly silent, his expression purposefully blank, while Brennan shrugs.
"To be perfectly honest…" she says. "I fail to see why everyone is so worked up about this. There have been physical relationships between other members of our team and I don't recall there being such a firestorm over them."
Sweets can only shake his head.
"That's all well and good, Dr. Brennan, but you also didn't seem to understand why everyone was so 'worked up' when you suddenly decided you wanted a baby overnight and for Agent Booth to be the one to give you one, so figure me if I find your judgment slightly skewed."
She takes his criticism in stride, simply shrugging again. Booth paces in front of her desk, hands at his hips, and she looks over at him for a moment, an amused, little smile tugging at lips. Sweets finds himself analyzing her body language, her expression, trying frantically to determine if she's looking at her partner any differently now, if he can see something in the weight of her gaze now that he knows she's sleeping with Booth that he hasn't before.
"Okay, just for the record, I didn't tell anyone anything," Booth announces, cutting his eyes to Brennan. "Bones, on the other hand, has been reenacting episodes of Sex and the City with Angela so…"
Brennan frowns.
"I don't know what that means but it is true that I did tell Angela. But only in the vaguest of terms… somehow it took on a life of its own from there."
"Yeah, well, I had to hear it from Hodgins," Sweets sighs. "And let me tell you, he took great delight in informing me I'm so mega clueless about your relationship despite the fact that I'm basing an entire book on exactly that. It pretty much sucked…"
Booth comes to a standstill, chuckling humorlessly.
"Yeah, I'm sure it was really rough. But I feel the need to remind you again – this isn't about you, Sweets. Okay? Why is that so hard for everyone to understand?"
"I think it's about me just a bit, Agent Booth. You lied to me! You lied right to my face."
Dr. Brennan shifts forward in her chair, shaking her head vehemently.
"No," she insists. "Technically, we did not lie."
Sweets gapes at her and not for the first time since he's met her, he is utterly fascinated by the way her mind works.
Annoyed and appalled too, but that's beside the point.
"Dr. Brennan, just two days ago, we sat in my office and discussed the notion of intimacy and boundaries as it pertains to your relationship. Agent Booth explicitly told me that those issues did not apply to the two of you. He was clearly trying to minimize your involvement in the hopes of throwing me off the trail."
"Maybe," she concedes. "But he did not lie." She looks over at Booth, her smile just a little too sly and knowing for Sweets' comfort. "We do not have any issues with intimacy whatsoever…"
Booth flushes, looking decidedly uncomfortable.
"Bones…" he says, his tone more whining than warning, but she merely smiles back, clearly not feeling chastised in the least.
"You know, that's really not the issue here," Sweets says. "I don't care how good the sex is. This is about-"
"No. No way." Booth shakes his head petulantly. "No. I don't even want to hear the word sex coming out of your mouth, okay? Just… no."
Sweets nearly rolls his eyes.
"Seriously, Agent Booth? You're not mature enough to have a frank conversation about sex. I think that speaks to much larger issues that we should-"
"I'm mature enough to know a little something about discretion," Booth says. "That's how mature I am."
It occurs to Sweets then that perhaps the best way to approach the situation is as their therapist, not a friend who's bummed out because they didn't trust him enough to share such momentous news. He crosses his arms against his chest, studying Booth's body language, analyzing the clues. The older men must sense the scrutiny because he stops his fidgeting, stands up straight and still, and schools his features into a bland, utterly neutral expression.
"Sex is now a significant component of your relationship with Dr. Brennan, Agent Booth. If your relationship is going to thrive, you'll have to learn to become more comfortable discussing the subject because it's-"
"I'm plenty comfortable talking about it," Booth hisses. "Just not with you."
"This is true," Brennan chimes in. "Contrary to my previous assumptions, he's been surprisingly vocal and open regarding the subject."
Booth frowns, his face still red.
"That's good to know, Dr. Brennan, but it's a subject that will inevitably come up for us in future sessions and Agent Booth needs to-"
"Hold up," Booth cuts in, waving his hand. "Okay, see, this, right here, is exactly why I didn't want you to know. We're not going to start sex therapy with you, Sweets. We're not going to start couples therapy. Because we're fine, there are no issues and-"
"You're already in couples' therapy," Sweets says in exasperation. "Technically speaking."
"You know what I mean. *Couples* couples therapy. You know, where you ask Bones if I bring her flowers often enough to make her feel appreciated and you tell me I need to articulate more clearly why I don't like her panty hose hanging all over my shower rod…"
"Fresh flowers can be nice on occasion," Brennan offers, and Booth looks at her in frustration.
"Bones, that's not really what I'm-"
"But in general, if you're thinking of getting me a gift, I'd prefer something like a book or a CD, one you think I might like because..." She trails off then, gazing over at Booth, and a wistful, almost dreamy look comes over her face. "On second thought, this conversation is unnecessary. You already give very nice gifts. I don't need to explain."
He smiles back at her, his eyes softening in a way they often do when he looks at her. Sweets watches them for a moment, once again lost in their little world of two, and wonders how this all finally came to be. It was inevitable, he knows, but they'd already let so many opportunities pass them by. He wonders what was different this time, what made it too difficult for either of them to resist. Brennan catches him watching then, and for the first time since Sweets stormed in here, she looks uncomfortable, cornered.
"Also," she says, looking over at Sweets. "I don't really wear panty hose. I wear stockings. I find them to be more comfortable and easier to-"
"Bones…"
"What? Your example was arbitrary and fabricated. I was simply setting the record straight."
Booth shakes his head in exasperation, but there's affection there too. Love, Sweets thinks. It's written all over the poor guy's face. But that's probably just the newness of it. Booth doesn't quite believe this is all real yet. He's still trying to find his way.
"How long?" Sweets asks them then. "How long as this been going on?"
Booth frowns, shoving his hands in his pockets.
"That's none of your-"
"Nearly two and a half months," Brennan announces. "Since just after Booth was recovered enough from his surgery to engage in sexual activities."
"Bones!"
"It's a simple fact, Booth. A rather mundane one at that. It's not like I told him about that first time, when we didn't even make it to your-"
"Bones," he warns. "Enough."
"Two and a half months?" Sweets repeats, and he stops to do some mental calculations. One hour long session a week over approximately ten weeks adds up to ten hours, ten hours that they sat across from him and lied through their shiny, white teeth. His anger, which had given way to curiosity, returns at full boil, and he shakes his head in disbelief. "You've been lying to me – to all of your friends – for almost three months? Seriously?"
"Again, I must point out that technically we weren't lying," Brennan says. "We simply choose not to share the information. No one directly questioned us about a sexual relationship."
"It's a lie of omission, Dr. Brennan, and you know it."
She shrugs, seeming unconcerned. Booth isn't quite so nonchalant and he takes a step toward Sweets, clearly trying to be intimidating.
"Explain to me why we're obligated to tell you about any of this," he says. "This is our business, Sweets. Our lives. Why is everyone acting like we owe them something?"
"At the risk of sounding super redundant, you're in therapy with me, Agent Booth. Partners' therapy. The fact that the two of you are now engaging in a sexual relationship certainly impacts your working dynamic, wouldn't you say?"
Booth and Brennan glance at one another, both considering the question.
"No," they answer, in near unison. "Not really."
"No?" Sweets repeats incredulously. "Not really? Are you two freaking insane?"
"You're the psychologist," Booth says with a smirk. "You tell us."
"Yeah!" he declares. "You are! You're both freaking insane. You're having sex, guys. Sex. You two have been dancing around this line since before I even met you and now you've crossed it and you want to stand here and tell me that it hasn't affected the way you work with one another? That your partnership hasn't been altered by it? That's just…"
He shakes his head. Even now, even now when they've finally admitted that they want to be with one another, they're still so firmly entrenched in denial. He couldn't have chosen a better subject for his book – these two are nuts.
"Very little has changed between us," Brennan says calmly. "That is the truth. In a way, I think you could argue that the sex is merely an extension of the rapport and connection that we'd already established. Booth and I work together extremely well, as our solve rate clearly indicates, and it's really no different when it comes to sex. The results are just much more pleasurable."
Booth covers his face with a hand, muttering under his breath. All this talk of sex is a little too much for him, and it occurs to Sweets then that it's obscuring another issue, one that's even more critical than anything physical.
"What about the emotional aspect of your relationship?" he challenges. "Are you saying that there are no feelings involved here? It's just about working well together, catching murderers, and good sex?"
Booth's jaw tightens instantly, and he and Brennan look at each other again, doing that whole silent communication thing they do so well. He turns and glares at Sweets then, like he's trying really hard to control his impulses – namely to slug the good doctor right in the face.
"No one is saying that," he grits out. "What Bones is trying to explain is that we haven't suddenly become different people just because we've, you know, gone to bed together. I mean, She still drives me nuts half the time with all her scientific, relentlessly rational mumbo jumbo and-"
"And he still refuses to acknowledge that a logical and scientific approach to a case is superior to one based on conjecture and guess-work," Brennan interrupts. "So nothing has changed."
Booth looks back at her, frowning.
"I refuse to acknowledge that? That's not really fair. Or accurate."
"Well, you don't acknowledge it often," she says primly. "That is a fact."
"Bones, I know how important the lab work is… but you have to admit that the other stuff, you know, the human side, it's pretty important. I mean, if it wasn't, would you really be insisting on going out in the field with me? When you could be back here at the lab? I mean, it's pretty obvious what the cooler part of the job is…"
"I couldn't agree more – the lab."
"What?" he laughs. "That doesn't make any sense. If the lab's so great, why do you always want to come along with me?"
"I worry that if you're left alone to your own devices, you're rely solely on assumptions and speculation to build your case. I'm around to remind you that the scientific evidence is the only thing we can fully trust."
"That's a crock and you know it."
"I know that you're very sensitive about this, yes."
He scoffs, lifting his chin almost defiantly.
"Yeah, well, you… you…" He hesitates, brightening after a moment. "You steal the covers. How about that?"
He's pleased with himself, but she squints at him in confusion.
"I what?"
"You steal all the blankets in bed," he explains. "So I'm left with one single corner of the damn thing. And then you insist on cranking up the AC so I wind up freezing my ass off…"
"I don't know what you're…" She glances over at Sweets, as if she's suddenly remembered he's in the room. "I utilize an appropriate amount of blanket in ratio to its relative size and the size of both of our bodies…" She looks back over at Booth. "Besides, you talk in your sleep. Sometimes you keep me up for hours."
Booth's mouth drops open in outrage.
"I do not!"
"You most certainly do. The other night, you prattled on for nearly fifteen minutes, trying to convince someone to paint a fence or porch. It would have been amusing if it wasn't so annoying."
Booth frowns at her for a moment, eyes narrowed, then turns to Sweets, almost conspiratorially, like they're on the same side and didn't just spend the better part of the twenty minutes arguing.
"Yeah, well, not only are her feet always ice cold, so she tucks them against me to try to warm them up, she steals my socks when that doesn't work. Just the other day, I found three pairs in her underwear drawer. Three!" He looks over at her accusingly. "And one of them was the blue pair with the yellow stripes. One of my favorites."
"They are very warm socks," she defends, looking at Sweets almost imploringly. "And Booth… he still refuses to let me drive."
Having stood back and merely listened to this entire ridiculous exchange, Sweets can only laugh. They're right – there is still so much of them that is exactly the same despite their newfound intimacy. But he also knows that they're seriously naive if they believe that their relationship hasn't changed at all. A dam's been opened and there are bound to be repercussions.
But Booth whips his head up, glowering, and Sweets suspects that it won't be that easy to convince them.
"Hey, get your mind out of the gutter," Booth says. "That's not a sexual reference. She means the car. I don't let her drive the car."
Sweets holds his hands up in mock surrender, only laughing harder. He's not quite sure why Booth would leap to such a conclusion but it's telling, something that should be noted for future discussion for sure.
"What would driving have to do with sex?" Brennan wonders, her head tilted thoughtfully. It only takes a moment for it to hit her, her eyes lighting. "Ooooh! I get it. No. That's not an issue at all. Booth's quite amenable to allowing me to-"
"Jeeze, Bones. Come on."
She smiles at him, feigning innocence.
"What? I can't help it. I like driving every once in a while."
"Can we get back to the real issue here?" Sweets asks.
Booth crosses his arms against his chest stubbornly.
"And what would that be?"
Sweets smiles patiently – Booth can play dumb all he wants, but they're still going to wind up talking this through.
"I believe – you can correct me if I'm wrong – that we were discussing the fact that your relationship with Dr. Brennan has significantly evolved in the past couple of months and despite this, you saw no need to reveal this change to your friends and co-workers. Even your therapist."
Booth shrugs.
"I really wasn't discussing anything but…"
Sweets sighs, having the most vivid mental image of knocking Booth's head against the wall. It'd be seriously satisfying, he suspects.
"It is true that Booth and I are now engaged in a sexual relationship," Brennan says, in her usual cut-to-the-chase manner. "However, there's no evidence to suggest that this change has impacted our working relationship in any way. The fact that no one suspected that anything was different between us until now is proof of that."
She's got Sweets there, but he knows that there must be more here, more layers to peel back.
"Fine. I'll buy that. Let's forget about the professional implications for just a moment. Why didn't you feel the need to share what is obviously positive news with your friends? With Angela in particular, for instance."
Brennan looks over at Booth quickly, her expression unreadable.
"I didn't feel any need, so to speak," she says. "But I did think that I might want to tell Angela about it. However, Booth expressed a desire for privacy, at least initially, and I thought it was important that I respect that."
Sweets nods.
"Okay. Good." He turns to Booth. "Why do you think privacy is so important to you regarding your relationship with Dr. Brennan?"
Booth throws his hands up.
"What kind of question is that? Do you go running around telling everyone about you and Daisy?" He pauses, a wide grin breaking out across his face. "In fact, if I remember correctly, you kept that whole thing under wraps for a while yourself, didn't you?"
"That's irrelevant," Sweets says brusquely. "We're talking about you. About your relationship with Dr. Brennan and why you're so hell bent on keeping it just between the two of you."
"Isn't that what a relationship is?" Booth asks. "Something between two people. I wasn't aware we had to let the whole damn lab into the middle of it."
Interestingly enough, Brennan sits back and simply watches the exchange, not making the slightest move to involve herself. At their usual sessions, she often leaps to her partner's aid, tries to take up his cause even when there's no need. Now she seems content to simply listen, like she has no idea what Booth might say.
"May I tell you what I think it's about?" Sweets asks him. "Would that be all right?"
Booth laughs humorlessly.
"Like I could stop you…"
"You're afraid, Agent Booth. That's what all of this is about."
Booth snorts, eyes narrowed.
"Really? Okay. What am I afraid of? Bones knows how I feel about her. What else would I be afraid of?"
Sweets grins, and like a shark that catches the scent of blood in the water, he goes in for the kill.
"Does she?" he prods. "Does she really know how you feel?"
Brennan is gazing at Booth, her brow furrowed as she studies him. When he looks back at her, the depth of emotion on his face is nearly unsettling, and Sweets wonders if he's ever seen this man more vulnerable. Booth reigns himself in, though, looking back at Sweets sternly.
"Of course she does."
"I'm not so sure, Agent Booth. I think what's going on here is that you're afraid all of this is going to fall apart. You know how much you've risked just to take it to this point and you're worried that it's still going to slip away from you somehow. That's why you're trying to control it, to keep it just between the two of you, so it can't get away from you."
Booth shakes his head.
"I don't even know what that means…"
"It means that there are still issues to work out here," Sweets says. "It means that we should continue to-"
"Sweets, stop," Brennan finally chimes in. "You're being ridiculous. I told you that there are no issues between us. Over the years, we both may have sublimated certain desires due to fear, but we've admitted that to each other. We're being honest about those desires now. And I think that I can speak for Booth when I say that we're both extremely satisfied with the way things have developed. He may be experiencing some discomfort over everyone knowing what's going on between us, but Booth's always been uncomfortable talking about his personal life. I don't understand why you feel the need to turn this into something more."
Booth gazes at her gratefully, letting out a slow, deep breath, and she smiles back at him.
"You don't understand why I think this is a big deal?" Sweets says. "Really?"
Brennan shakes her head.
"You either, Agent Booth?"
Booth mimics his partner, giving a quick shake of his head, and Sweets sighs in frustration.
"Are you two serious? Because this isn't just a big deal – it's a mega big deal. And you two are once again trying to deny that anything out of the ordinary is happening here. Don't you see the problem with that?"
They look at one another for a moment, then back at Sweets.
"No," Brennan says. "Because nothing is out of the ordinary."
He shakes his head in disbelief.
"Seriously?"
They both give a quick nod of their head, and he throws his hands up in defeat.
"You two are hopeless" he sighs. "Utterly freaking hopeless."
And yet, when he wanders out of Dr. Brennan's office, it's Sweet who feels as if he's completely run out of hope.
Because, at the rate they're going, he's never going to finish his damn book.
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"This is getting out of control," he tells her, once Sweets is long gone. "Wheels off the road, out of control."
She's still sitting behind her desk, looking utterly professional and utterly beautiful, and he can't help but think she's above all of this, that she deserves better than a starring role in this ridiculous workplace drama.
"I suspect that once the novelty's worn off and there is something more interesting to discuss, the interest in our relationship will dissipate," she tells him. "Sweets may be a problem, though. I'm fairly certain that this will be the main topic of conversation at our sessions for months to come…"
"Yeah," Booth agrees absently. "But that's not really what…"
She looks up at him, with those summer sky eyes, and it's as if the entire world has come to a devastating halt. He hurries around to her side of the desk, tugging her from the chair and against his body.
"I just hope you understand," he says. "I hope you understand how important this is to me. How important you are to me."
"Booth," she laughs, sounding a little nervous, and her hands slide her along his lapels, clutching the fabric tightly. "Of course I know."
He nods and takes a deep breath, trying to work up his courage. He's got nothing to lose, he tells himself. She's already got his heart in her hands.
"It's just that…"
He strokes his thumbs against her cheeks where the skin is soft as velvet and he watches the corners of her mouth rise in an anxious little smile and he feels his heart pounding against hers and he knows that there isn't going to be a better time.
It's now or never.
"I love you," he says, and he knows that he probably sounds apologetic, like he's sorry that he's burdening her with this, but it's the first time he's said it and it was bound to be clumsy.
By some miracle, though, Bones smiles, in that wide open way that he loves so much, and the world is no longer still – instead, it feels just about ready to spin off its axis.
"I know that too," she tells him, and there is nothing but tenderness in her eyes – no recrimination, no doubt, no fear.
And she does, he thinks. She knows and she's probably known for quite some time. Everyone outside in the lab knows too. He's never been good at hiding it, at hiding what she means to him. But more than that, he doesn't know why he'd ever want to.
He laughs, wondering how it ever got this far.
"This is crazy," he says, speaking to himself as much as her, and takes her hand in his. "Come on."
"Where are we going?" she asks as he leads her through the door.
"To set the record straight."