A/N – Okay, we've made it to the final chapter and I must offer up my heartfelt thanks to everyone who read along, left reviews, or dropped me a kind note. I was a little nervous, this being my first go around with Bones fic, but you guys have been absolutely fabulous. I appreciate it more than I can say.
When I was looking back over the story to outline the final chapter, I realized that I'd written an installment from pretty much everyone's POV except Brennan's. That's probably because I'm totally intimidated by the thought of writing in her voice. Seriously intimidated, I tell you. LOL. But I feel like the story probably could probably benefit from that very thing and since I think challenging yourself is always a good thing, this last chapter is in fact told from Brennan's POV (with a tiny bit of Angela at the beginning just to bring things full circle). Let me know what you think.
This will be followed by an epilogue of sorts. I'll try to have that up pretty quickly since it's short and shouldn't involve much heavy duty editing.
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When Angela finally makes her way up to the platform to give Cam an update, it's already nearly dinner time. She'd taken a long lunch outside to try to clear her head, but then spent the rest of the afternoon hold up in her office, trying to piece together a sketch of their victim with the limited pieces of the skull that they'd recovered. It's been slow-going, frustrating to say the least, but at least she's got a place for Booth and Brennan to start.
It's better than nothing anyway.
She's dreaming about margaritas and heaping plates of nachos as she jogs up the stairs, an evening of ordinary distractions. She wonders if she can convince Brennan to come along, maybe even bring Booth. Angela could spend the evening interrogating them side-by-side, with the possibility of alcohol loosening even the most stubborn of tongues. She'd be hard pressed to find a better distraction, she thinks. A squirmy, flustered Booth is guaranteed entertainment.
The rest of the team, sans Booth and Brennan, are gathered on the platform. Sweets has even made an appearance, but Brennan had mentioned that he was going to be working on a profile of the victim. It only takes one glance at the psychologist and Angela knows something is up. He's flailing his arms around, talking a million miles a minute, and his expression is nothing short of shell-shocked. Cam looks strangely serious, arms crossed against her chest and a purposeful little frown tightening her mouth. Wendell rubs absently at his forehead, looking like he wishes he could be anywhere else in the world, like he wondering if anyone would notice if he suddenly bolted from the lab.
Bu it's Hodgins who really gives everything way.
He's leaning back in a desk chair, shaking his head slowly, and his smirk – and that's most definitely what it is since it's way too smug to be considered a smile – is deep enough to fall into. He is beyond amused. He is eating up whatever's going on with a spoon, probably getting ready to ask for seconds, and just like that, it all falls into place.
"Let me guess," she says as she joins the group. "You guys heard about Booth and the broccoli."
Sweets blinks at her, shaking his head.
"Booth and broccoli?" he repeats, annoyed. "This is serious, Angela. No one really cares what he had for lunch…"
"Trust me," she laughs. "If it was broccoli, I'm thinking Brennan might."
"What are you talking about?" Cam asks, sounding a bit more patient than Sweets. "Because I'm thinking we're on totally different pages…"
"No. I'm pretty sure we're on the same one." Angela smiles over at Wendell. "I'm guessing a little blonde birdie told you guys about Brennan and Booth…"
"Hey now," Wendell says, holding up his hand defensively. "I wanted no part of this, okay? I was just an innocent bystander who overheard something that I never, ever wanted to hear, all right?"
"And then you ran right out here and told the whole lab?" Angela asks, not unkindly. "Yeah, I can see just how badly you were traumatized."
"It wasn't like that! I didn't mean to… Hodgins made me tell him."
Angela glances over at Hodgins, and they exchange knowing smirks.
"Please. The kid folded like a cheap suit. I barely had to ask."
"That's not true! I didn't-"
"I think we're all losing sight of the bigger picture," Sweets says. "It really doesn't matter *how* we found out. What matters is that we didn't find out from them."
"Well, actually," Angela says. "Brennan did tell me. She was vague about the whole thing, but her intent was clearly to share the news."
"But this just happened the other day, right?" Sweets presses. "So basically, they've been sneaking around and lying about their relationship for almost three months. That's not-"
"Wait, what?" Angela frowns, her brow furrowed tightly. "Did you say three months? They've been together for *three* months and Brennan only told me now?"
"Exactly!" Sweets declares. "That's exactly the point we should be focusing on."
Hodgins shakes his head.
"You guys are all nuts," he laughs. "Something this juicy happens and all you care about is why you weren't told sooner? Don't you care that… oh, I don't know… it happened in the first place?"
Sweets waves his hand dismissively.
"Yeah, yeah, sure. But I think that right now the more pressing issue is the fact that they're both trying to pretend that their relationship hasn't changed at all, with Booth so freaking paranoid about people even knowing they're together in the first place. They're still in denial. They just changed the thing they're in denial about…"
"That's kind of a good point," Cam admits reluctantly.
Angela just shakes her head, still feeling a bit off kilter.
"I just can't believe this was going for three months and I never noticed. How is that even possible?"
"Maybe because Booth and Dr. Brennan are right," Hodgins suggests cheekily. "Maybe nothing's really changed between them except the fact that they're hitting the sheets nightly. It's possible, you know."
Sweets shakes his head.
"No. I really can't see how it is. And since they refuse to even discuss the issue, I'm not sure how to make them see what's really going on."
Angela sees them then – Booth and Brennan headed toward the platform with purpose. He's holding Brennan's hand, looking as determined as Angela's ever seen him, and she can't help but smile.
"Well, it looks like you might get your chance…"
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He's just holding her hand, just leading her from her office to the platform, but for some reason she can't stop staring at their tangled fingers.
They've done this before, she thinks. Even before they were lovers. But not like this, not in a way that so clearly marks them as mates, as a couple, as two halves of a whole. She studies their hands, the way the fit neatly inside one another, and there's a strange sensation in her chest, almost an ache.
It doesn't make sense, she thinks. He's only holding her hand and that's hardly a significant physical gesture, particularly since they've actually had sex now, but it still feels different somehow, like he's trying to tell her something. He's always been a very tactile person, she knows, and she wonders now if he's spent the past few years holding back, keeping himself from touching her in just this way. That strikes her as immeasurably sad, and she grips his hand just a little bit tighter in reflex.
She won't let go until he does.
And when she feels his fingers slip from hers as he moves his hand to the small of her back to usher her up the stairs, she sighs just a bit. She likes the feel of his skin against hers, of his pulse beneath her fingertips. She likes how he makes her feel, like despite her intellect, despite all her degrees and academic accomplishments, there are still things left to learn, that there are still pieces of the world left to discover.
It frightens her, of course, but it thrills her even more.
The rest of the team is already gathered on the platform when the reach the top, and they all look toward her and Booth with surprised but expectant expressions. He seems to falter just a bit when he sees them assembled there, like they're some kind of firing squad to be faced. He glances over at her almost apologetically and she shakes her head, expecting nothing from him. He can do this at his own pace, when it feels right to him, and she suspects that this moment, with Sweets glaring at them almost cross-eyed and Hodgins grinning with just a little too much amusement, is not the right one.
"Hey guys," Angela says, and she's smiling kindly, the best girl friend that Brennan's ever had. "What's going on?"
Booth looks at Brennan again, frowning just a bit. Both of their arms are hanging at their sides and then his fingers are suddenly curling through hers once more. She looks down in surprise, his skin somehow warmer than she remembers. They can all see, she knows - Sweets and Angela and Hodgins and Cam. Even Wendell - and it's strange to be touching him like this in front of them. For a moment, she thinks that she finally understands what he meant about things between them being private, special. She can understand why he might want to protect what they have from prying eyes and pointed questions because right now all she wants is to shield him from anything in the world that might hurt him.
Even if that means protecting him from their friends.
Because he loves her and she knows that she can't be the easiest person in the world to love sometimes.
Some nights, when she thinks about how close she came to losing him, how close she's come before, her throat seems to close up and her heart pounds so hard inside her chest that she's nearly shaking. She recognizes it for what it is – a panic attack – but it's more than that too. She doesn't know exactly what it means, but she does know that it means something, that it is important.
She'll figure it out eventually.
She glances at him now, his palm sweaty against hers, and she knows that she understands enough.
"There's something I'd like to say," she announces calmly. "For the record, whatever might be going on between Booth and I is private. As such, we'd both appreciate it if-"
"Aw, hell!"
She looks at Booth in surprise, startled by his sudden outburst, but she's even more astonished when he grabs her, pulls her flush against him and kisses her like he might never get the chance again. She's caught off guard and off balance, grabbing fistfuls of his jacket and hanging on for dear life. He's kissed her like this before, like he wants to devour her whole, but he's always done it behind closed doors, with the curtains drawn and the blinds pulled. They have an audience now and she can hear the chuckling, maybe even a gasp or two. She finds herself laughing against his mouth because she's never felt this giddy before, she's never felt this wonderfully out of control.
She's still smiling when he sets her down on her feet, easing away from her just a bit.
"That's how it is, okay?" he says, wiping at his mouth as he addresses the group. "You all satisfied? You get your eyeful? Want us to pose so you can take some pictures?"
They gape at him, their friends and co-workers, but he stands his group, hands on his hips and head held high. Angela laughs, reaching out to rub his arm.
"I always knew you had it in you, Booth," she giggles. "Didn't I, Bren?"
Angela winks at her and her smile stretches, grows. Cam laughs then too, the shock seeming to wear off.
"Well, that's one way to put an end to the gossip, I guess," she teases.
"Actually, I think that's the kind of the thing that starts *tongues* a wagging, not stops them," Hodgins says archly. "Pun totally intended."
When Brennan looks over at Booth, he's fighting off a smile, the corners of his mouth twitching with the effort. She reaches for his hand now, knotting her fingers through his and squeezing just a bit. He loses his battle then, grinning at her with unrestrained glee. Sweets takes a step forward then, catching Booth's eye but somehow his smile doesn't falter even in the face of possible psychological dissection.
"I think this was a very positive step forward, Agent Booth," Sweets says. "But it's just one step and we'll need to keep working on the underlying-"
"Anyway," Angela says, unceremoniously pushing Sweets out of the way and opening her sketch pad. "I actually finished a rough sketch of the victim … that's what I was on my way up here to tell you guys when Booth had to go all PDA on us. I mean, jeeze. Some people don't know anything about professionalism, do they?"
"Ha ha ha," Booth says, faux-grump and he snatches the pad from her. "Everyone's a comedian…"
Brennan looks at the sketch, at how much Angela was able to do with so little.
"This is fantastic work, Ange. Amazing."
"Well, it's hard to tell how accurate it is right now…"
"But it's someplace to start at least," Cam points out. "Which is more than we had before."
"And we'll run it and see if we get any matches for missing persons," Booth says. "Maybe we'll catch a break."
"It's good work, Angela," Brennan says again. "Very good work."
Angela smiles, nodding.
"Yes, I suppose it is. Definitely deserving of a margarita, wouldn't you say?"
Booth nearly groans his agreement.
"Yes! After the day I've had, I'm just gonna open my mouth right under the tap and let the bartender go to town…"
"Not if I get there first," Wendell says.
"Yeah, yeah… you two had it so rough," Hodgins laughs. "I'll be drinking scotch from an actual glass like a civilized person."
"Whatever," Angela sighs. "All I know is, Cam, Bren and I will have drunken you all under the table by nine fifteen. Mark my words."
Brennan squeezes Booth's hand again and he squeezes back, smiling down at her. If they'd known it would be this easy, this simple, maybe Booth wouldn't have been so worried about everyone finding out, so determined to keep their relationship under wraps.
But then again, it probably wouldn't have changed anything at all.
Because he loves her and she knows that often means being irrational. Strangely enough, she finds she doesn't mind.
Later, after they've all gathered their jackets and bags and they're headed for Founding Fathers, Angela steps between Brennan and Booth, linking an arm with each of them.
"Okay, you two," she says jovially. "Now that you've decided to be more open about this whole thing… answer one question for us. How? I mean, after so many years of insisting that you were only partners, what finally flipped the switch?"
"Yeah, come on, man," Hodgins says, nudging Booth. "Inquiring minds want to know."
"Was it because of the baby stuff?" Cam asks.
Brennan looks over at Booth, trying to judge his comfort level. He just shrugs, looking resigned to the conversation.
"No," she tells their friends. "After Booth's illness, we agreed to table our procreation plans for the immediate future." She smiles almost to herself. "But we have both acknowledged that it's a topic that we're very interested in revisiting…"
Booth gives a quick nod of his head, grinning just a bit.
"Of course," she continues, just following the logical progression of her thoughts. "Given the shift in our personal relationship, there's no need to be inseminated at a fertility clinic. I will simply stop taking my orthocycline and Booth will not use any prophylactics and we can conceive a child through intercourse."
Beside her, Booth makes a choking sound, somewhere between a groan and a laugh.
"Too much?" she asks apologetically.
Even in the dimly lit parking lot, his smile is bright.
"Maybe just a bit."
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