Hello 'Reality' friends.
I am sorry for the inexcusable delay in "Friday's" chapter. I really appreciate everyone hanging in there and not kicking me to the curb.
Quick note: I have two bits of good news and one bit of bad news (well, depending on how you feel about me and this story, that is). I will sandwich the bad between the good.
Good news: I am feeling better. Thank you to everyone for the kind wishes. I'm not 100% back to myself, but I am feeling better.
Bad news: There will be no "Big Os" in this chapter (but I don't plan to make you wait 24 hours for the next one).
Good News: To make it up to you, I have decided to continue this series for another week. This story will end at the completion of the next chapter, and I will soon begin work on "Reality Week: Booth and Brennan Edition, Part Two".
--b&b--
Friday
4:17 AM
Booth felt something poking into the back of his knee, and he shifted, trying to avoid it. But then he realized he was cold. Cracking open one eye, he turned to the side and saw his partner, not quite delicately snoring. Ha, that was kind of funny. Bones was kind of cute when she wasn't perfect. Although, he'd never tell her that. Telling Bones she looked cute was not a good move, he guessed. He grabbed the covers from her and pulled them over himself. She snuffled a bit, but didn't wake up. Hiding a smile, and then realizing he didn't need to, Booth scooted over to her and pulled her close to him by the waist, sliding the covers over them both.
For a moment, he just stared at her, resisting the urge to brush her hair back from her face. It was a rare moment when he could study her, and now that he was awake, he knew he wouldn't be going back to sleep.
The night before had thrown him for a major loop, but in the end, he'd been pleased with the way it had turned out. Parker was mostly oblivious to it all, and he'd acted as if it was perfectly natural that she'd been there. So either Parker had no hang ups about him being with Bones, or there had been no noticeable change to him. This meant they were either playing it cool, or they hadn't been as secretive as they thought.
Or maybe secretive wasn't the best word. It wasn't as if they'd been having sex for years. But they had been…together.
Feeling confused, and realizing it was too early for too much philosophy, Booth let his hand slide to her hip, enjoying the feel of her cool skin against his palm. It just fit there. And she fit, in his life, in his arms, and he realized last night had ended up about her fitting into his life.
And so far, this week, he'd not really made an attempt to fit into her life.
He rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling. You think you can fit there, Seeley?, a voice spoke in his mind, and he clenched his fists in the sheets below him. You're a fool if you think she will ever love you. If you think she will ever really want you. You think telling her about your childhood was a good move? Not likely. Because she's just going to want to know more. More about your past. And yeah, there are some things that you couldn't help, but you know there's a lot in there you don't want her to know. So the real question is, soldier…are you even worth her trouble?
"Shut up!" Booth hissed in the darkness, and felt a stirring beside him.
"Booth?" Brennan frowned and whispered, reaching out with a hand toward him. "What's wrong?"
He turned to his side and stared at her. She looked like a goddess, her pale skin illuminated against his navy sheets, the moonlight through the split in his curtains shining down on her.
And it just made him feel darker, more unworthy of her.
She rose up on her arms, and leaned toward him. The bright blue of her eyes shone with sleep and confusion and his chest began to ache at her beauty. Her slim neck and pale chest, the way her shoulders were lightly freckled, and the way her breasts hung perfectly over her ribs. She was saying something to him, but he couldn't focus on her words as the contrast between her light and his dark thoughts severed all thought.
But he blinked, and then her words penetrated through to his ears.
"Maybe I should go…"
--b&b--
Brennan could see that his face was set in a frown, and she guessed he was just feeling unsure, like he'd said the night before. Wanting to ease his confusion, she offered to leave. "I don't want it to be awkward when Parker wakes up," she added. "So I'll just go back to my apartment now, and get ready for work. I'll go in early, and then maybe I'll see you later?"
Booth's mind rushed with thoughts, and he nodded. "Okay, sure…"
He watched from his pillow as she rolled away from him. The moonlight seemed to follow her as she walked around his bed, pulling on the clothes he'd loaned her the night before, and he closed his eyes when she gently laid her destroyed bra on the end of his bed.
Nice…that's just what she wants. Very classy, ripping her new, expensive underwear. Smooth, Seel.
He didn't open his eyes again until he heard the soft click of his bedroom door close. The everyday sound caused a tightening in his chest so severe he pressed both hands to his body and sat up, trying to breathe. Reaching down and picking up the now destroyed satin, he pulled it up to his face, inhaling a deep breath. It smelled of her skin, that lavender and fresh scent he recognized from the other morning when she'd showered. And it also smelled faintly of his detergent, from being up against his t-shirt for a few hours. The combination forced him to his back and he brought his hand to his chest, letting the satin lay against his bare shoulder, wondering how something so beautiful could be destroyed so quickly.
Easily asshole…you. You're the one who ruined it. Just like everything.
Booth groaned and lifted his hands to his face, pressing his palms against his eyes.
No, no, no…hold on a minute. You can do this, a different voice emerged from his mind. You've taken something destroyed and turned it into good before, and you can do it again.
Booth felt a stirring of hope, and he stared up at the ceiling, looking for answers, wondering if he even understood the question.
Can you show her you have what it takes?
Could he? Booth wondered, knowing that for their four years as partners, he'd distanced himself away from her fame, her academic life, from that whole world that usually made him itch. Instead, he'd pulled her into his world. A diner and football, and late night take out and t-shirts and….
Rolling onto his stomach, he pressed his face to his pillow, trying to figure out how he could show her he could belong with her. In her world. It should be easy. He'd pursued women before, and Bones was a woman. He could do this.
He could.
--b&b--
11:30 AM
"Well done, students" Brennan smiled slightly and nodded in approval, "You may leave now."
Angela smiled as Brennan turned away and walked to her office. Classic Brennan to dismiss someone and then leave first. She followed her friend, and paused as Brennan opened her office door. Angela watched as Brennan ran a hand along her lower back and hips before walking into her office.
Hmmmmmmmm……..
"So…" Angela sidled into Brennan's office. "How are things going these days, Bren?"
Brennan looked up from her desk and tilted her head to the side. "Things are going well."
"Good, good…" Angela placed her hands on her hips, "Man, my hips are kind of sore. I tried a new pilates workout, and it seems to be working, because I'm really feeling it."
"Um…" Brennan's hand fluttered up to her neck for a moment, and then went back to the desk, shuffling through papers there. "Fascinating…"
Bingo…
"If only I was sore from something really good, like a hot man in my bed, but…I guess I'm just not that lucky."
Angela waited for Brennan to respond, but of course she didn't and just turned to her computer.
"Bren--"
"Excuse me, Dr. Brennan?" a voice spoke up from the doorway.
"Yes?" Brennan and Angela both turned toward the sound.
"These are for you" the security guard entered, carrying a huge bouquet of red roses.
Angela's eyebrows rose, and she turned toward her friend. "Whoa! Brennan…yowza!"
Brennan chuckled and made room on the side of her desk for the vase.
"Is there a card?" Angela leaned closer, pulling in a deep breath. "Who could they be from?"
Brennan didn't answer, and just pulled out the small card from its holder. Angela leaned over her shoulder and laughed when Brennan swatted her away.
"They're from Booth" she read matter of factly. "That's all."
"That's ALL?" Angela repeated, and she fingered the petals. "Let me guess, a partner thing?"
Brennan chuckled. "I guess so…look"
She handed Angela the card, and she read it out loud.
"Bones" Angela began, "Thanks for being such a great partner."
Angela frowned and missed the flash of uncertainty in Brennan's expression. "Hmmm…well, okay, then. I've never seen Booth as the type to say things with flowers. And if he did, I never expected him to be so cliché, but…you know, whatevs, right. Still, they are gorgeous, and--"
"We're sleeping together" Brennan blurted and then covered her mouth, and Angela froze, her hand in midair.
Their eyes met, and Angela's eyebrows rose.
"You?"
"Yes" Brennan whispered.
"And Booth" Angela stated.
"Yes" Brennan nodded, a slightly amazed smile crossing her face at her admission.
"Seeley Booth?" Angela clarified. "Just so we're clear here."
"Angela, yes…of course. What other 'Booth' is there?"
"Um…well…" Angela winced, and Brennan conceded this with a tilt of her head.
"Okay, yes, Angela. Seeley Booth" Brennan bit her bottom lip, and her eyes grew bright. "Booth."
Angela folded her hands and brought them under her chin, a near silent squeal rising up from her throat. "Ah!"
"I know" Brennan admitted.
"I mean…AH!" Angela clapped her hands quickly. "Eeeeeeeee!!!!!"
"I know, Ange" Brennan chuckled. "It's…"
"Oh, don't stop there" Angela begged. "It's what? Perfect, beyond good, the best sex you've ever had? It is, isn't it? Oh, I just know it is. How can it not be? AND this explains why you are walking kind of funny! AH! I mean, seriously…it's, I mean…there is just NO WAY it's not the best, right? Oh please tell me it is!! EEEEEEE!!!!!" She clapped her hands again excitedly and looked to Brennan for confirmation.
Brennan just laughed and turned back to her desk.
"Oh,no" Angela followed her, "You can't leave me hanging like that. Just…tell me, how is it?"
Brennan leaned back in her office chair and smirked. "Better."
"I knew it"
Brennan laughed at the way Angela sighed and pretended to faint against her desk. "Ange…"
Angela laughed and leaned over, pulling Brennan into a fierce hug, "I'm so happy for you. Please tell me this isn't just a one night thing, and it's over, right?"
Brennan shook her head, "No…almost two weeks."
"Yes!" Angela nearly skipped over to the couch and flopped against it. "Now…details."
"I don't think so" Brennan turned to her computer with a mischievous grin.
"Oh, come on!" Angela whined. "I'm desperate. You KNOW I'm desperate. And, as your best friend…"
"Oh, so now you're my best friend, again?" Brennan teased and began typing an email to thank Booth for the flowers.
Angela sighed. "Okay, okay…how about this? I won't be mad at you for keeping this from me for two weeks."
"—Almost two weeks" Brennan corrected, and Angela rolled her eyes at her exactness.
"Fine, fine. I won't be mad at you for keeping this from me for almost two weeks, if you just give me one teeny detail. Pleeeeeeeeeeese?"
Brennan looked down to her hands and smiled. A small possessive streak coursed through her, and she remembered the conversation she'd overheard between Cam and Angela about Booth's prowess in bed. Tilting her head to the side, she met Angela's eyes. "Sometimes, Booth loses control."
Angela smiled widely and closed her eyes, leaning back against the couch. "You bet your ass he does."
--b&b--
4:15 PM
Booth sank into his office chair and wiped his hand over his face. With a groan, he turned on his computer and leaned forward to open up his email.
"Spam, spam, spam…jeez, you'd think the Federal Bureau of Investigation could do a better job of blocking crappy emails" he groused as he scanned the list. "Spam, Spam…Sweets" he grinned and felt a jab of delight when he moved it straight to the delete file. "Trash…Cullen, save that for later, Spam…Bones."
He smiled and opened her email, it's header a mere, 'hello'.
"Dear Booth" he read out loud, loosening his tie for just a moment. "Thank you for the flowers. They are quite lovely."
That was all she said, and Booth tilted his head to the side. It wasn't much, but then again, this was the company pipeline, so it wasn't like she was going to declare her undying love and devotion to him in writing. At least, he didn't think she would.
He sighed, and then hit the reply button.
"Bones" he began, and tapped his fingers lightly over the keys, considering what he wanted to say next, "I'm taking you out tonight. Somewhere special. So…wear something nice."
He paused, and frowned, then continued with his message and then hit send.
He really hoped this would work.
--b&b—
Brennan blinked as the sound of a new email in her queue broke her concentration from the article she was typing. She clicked on the link, and smiled as she saw it was from Booth. She quickly scanned it, "Wear something nice."
Hmmm…She looked at the clock. She should probably get ready to change.
Reading the rest of his email, she smiled to herself.
"Not that you don't always look nice, Bones. But this place? It's nice. Pick you up at 7:30."
It was such a Booth thing to say, and she could just imagine his chest puffing out a bit, his hand smoothing down his tie as he described it. Maybe he was taking her back to Tony and Maureen's. Or somewhere else he would really love. Brennan felt a warm flush along her neck and then looked at the clock again. Saving and closing her word document, she quickly gathered her things and left the lab.
--b&b—
7:29 PM
Booth cleared his throat and knocked on Brennan's apartment door.
He could hear her walk to the door, and then it opened, and then…
"Hello, Booth."
Love at first sight had nothing on love at 1,534th sight. Not when she was dressed up like this, for him. Because he'd asked her to.
Was the dress new? He'd never seen it before, and he'd have to kill any other man she'd worn it for. The color could only be described as…night. The darkest of blues, it was almost black, and yet when she moved just a step closer, he could swear it was purple. The hem reached to just above her knee, long enough to be classy, but short enough to make his thoughts anything but.
Brennan felt pleased by Booth's stunned expression. It gave her time to compose herself at the sight of him. Booth in a tuxedo could be classified as a weapon, and tonight, he seemed extra put together. His hair was combed perfectly, just as she preferred it. His face was clean and stubble free from a fresh shave, his skin so smooth looking she was almost afraid to touch it.
His shirt, black bowtie and jacket fit to perfection, and she let her eyes run down to his feet in time to see Booth rock back on his heels, once, and Brennan was surprised to see that his socks were black. Her eyes moved back up his body and paused on his straight black belt buckle. He looked…almost too perfect.
"Hello, Temperance" his voice was husky, and she blinked at his use of her first name.
But when she looked up, he was smiling and his arm was outstretched to her. She smiled slightly and took it.
Maybe it was the time of day, or the low classical music on the radio, but Brennan found the ride to their destination almost eerily quiet. It was nice, and relaxing, and like just about any other date she'd been on.
"Okay, we're here" Booth pulled into a parking lot, and Brennan looked out the window with shock. "The National Gallery of Art?" She turned back to Booth. "You hate art museums."
Booth cleared his throat and rotated his shoulders. "Well, you don't, so…"
He gave what looked like a forced smile, and then opened his door.
Brennan paused, unsure. Yes, she enjoyed art. But she knew that Booth didn't particularly care about it. No matter, Temperance, she chided herself, Booth is doing this for you. Show him you enjoy it!
Pasting on a smile, she opened her door and got out, accepting his arm again. They walked inside, and Booth motioned with his hand toward the list of exhibitions. Brennan scanned the list and could not find one she thought Booth might enjoy. Biting her lip, she finally chose the Renaissance sculpture installment, and tucked her head to her chest as she led the way toward the artwork.
Booth swallowed and followed her inside the room, already feeling his skin itch from the all white walls combined with rows of dead lifeless sculptures. Sure, he could certainly admire that a lot of work went into them, and these sure as hell seemed a lot more artistic than some guy tossing paint onto a canvas and calling it art, but, his only goal for the night was to show his partner that he was a classy guy. He could hold his own in her world and wouldn't embarrass her.
Brennan stood and looked at the sculptures, her interest piqued somewhat. She admired the strong lines and perfect symmetry. She'd always been stunned at how one block of stone could be worked to form lifelike figures. She always wanted to reach out and touch the faces, to see if they would blink or react. Of course, they never did, and she never really expected them to.
Booth's cell phone vibrated, and she turned and met his eyes.
He smiled and motioned toward the door. "We should go; we don't want to be late."
Brennan let him lead her away, but instead of leaving the gallery, he just took them deeper through it before reaching a private gallery room. The room was dark and rows of chairs were set up in lines before a movie screen.
Brennan looked at the sign near the door.
Léon Morin, Priest
"This is a French film, Booth" she paused, and he pressed his hand to her back, smiling.
"Yes, Bones…I heard you talking with Angela about it, and I thought you would enjoy it."
Brennan felt a tug in her heart. He'd heard her talk about it, and so he'd brought her to it?
"There are subtitles, though" she clarified. "No English at all, Booth."
"I know Bones" he pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek and motioned with his head toward the seats. "Let's sit, okay?"
Brennan followed his lead and sat in one of the chairs. She spared a glance toward Booth, and he met her eyes, smiling slightly. He looked away quickly, and Brennan couldn't help look at him for a moment longer. She felt confused to say the least. But then the movie was starting, and she turned toward the screen.
But just as it began, she leaned over to him, "This was very thoughtful, Booth. Thank you very much."
Booth clenched and unclenched his hands at his side. "You're welcome, Bones. My pleasure."
His throat closed around the lie, and he could feel his eye start to twitch a bit. Closing his eyes for a moment and counting to ten, he pulled in a deep breath. His only mantra was don't sleep, don't sleep, don't sleep.
It was bad enough he could tell she knew he didn't really want to be here. He didn't want to embarrass her further by falling asleep during the movie.
And so for the next two hours, he stared at the screen and recited baseball stats. He silently thought about his favorite lines from the Godfather. Anything to stay focused on his mission. Making sure Bones had a perfect evening.
--b&b--
Brennan could feel how tense was beside her, but she didn't want to make him conscious about it, so she just stared at the screen, and after awhile she became engrossed in the storyline.
When the lights rose, she smiled and turned toward him.
He stood and swallowed, "Not bad" he smiled. "And the subtitles were a nice help."
Another patron behind them snickered, "Only an amateur reads the subtitles" she murmured and Booth tensed. Brennan could see the way his shoulders rolled back. But he just smiled and placed his hand on her elbow, "Should we leave? We have reservations for dinner."
"Yes" Brennan concurred. "Let's leave."
But once again, even in the SUV, their conversation was stunted. At best.
Brennan felt as if somehow it was her fault, but she didn't know how to fix it. "Where are we having dinner? Wong Foos?" she asked.
"Please" Booth scoffed and looked out the window. "On your special night? I think I can do better than that."
"Oh…" Brennan pressed her hand to the window and gasped as they reached their destination. "Citronelle?"
Booth smiled and nodded. "Fancy, right?"
"Very" Brennan whispered, and watched as he got out of his side of the SUV. She followed suit on her own side, and walked beside him to the entrance. "Have you been here before?"
Booth tugged at his tie for a moment, and shook his head. "No. you?"
"Yes, I have been here. Booth…I don't know if…"
"It's going to be great, Bones" he opened the door and nodded toward the maître d'.
The man recognized Booth from earlier in the day and nodded, leading the way to the table.
Booth smiled slightly as Brennan was seated, and then he picked up the menu. Frowning a bit, he looked to her, "What are you going to have, Bones?"
She met his eyes. "Booth…" she whispered and leaned closer to him. "This place is cuisine. It's not…"
"Food?"
She chuckled, and for a moment, everything seemed okay.
But then he motioned for the sommelier to come over. "What do you recommend?" he asked.
Brennan bit back a wince, and the sommelier's eyebrow's rose.
"Well, sir, of course, that depends on what you'll be eating."
"Right, right" Booth nodded, and leaned forward. "Bones, do you know what you want?"
She smiled toward the sommelier, "He'll have the short ribs, and I'll have the green asparagus vichyssoise and cheese ravioli."
"Very well, then may I recommend the PRIORAT, "Odysseus", Vinedos de Ithaca"
"Sounds great" Booth nodded and smiled.
"Booth" Brennan hissed when they were alone, "You hate white wine."
Booth rubbed his ear lobe once, and then looked away. "It's not so bad."
Their eyes met, and he could tell she was confused. "I just want tonight to be perfect, Bones."
His eyes held vulnerability, and Brennan didn't want to crush that. "Thank you."
Booth felt her acceptance like a blow. It was what she wanted.
--b&b--
After their minimal at best dinner, they left quickly, and Booth drove back to her apartment. Anxious to be home, Brennan hoped Booth would come inside, and she planned to invite him to spend the night with her. She wanted to tell him that she'd told Angela about them, and she wanted to show him the roses he'd bought her.
Booth parked the SUV, and got out, following Brennan up to her apartment. Once they were there, she unlocked the door and entered, pausing when she realized he hadn't followed her.
"Booth?" she turned, and his whole body ached at her beauty. She was the most amazing woman he'd ever known, and from the first moment he'd seen her, all those years ago, he'd known instinctively that he'd never measure up. Tonight had been a perfect example of why he should have listened to himself way back then.
"Did you have a nice time tonight?" he asked, his hands sliding into his pockets.
Brennan felt unsure. For some reason, any answer she might give felt like it would be the wrong one. She knew Booth had put a lot of thought into this night for her, but he'd been so miserable and tried to hide it. She didn't want to sound ungrateful.
"It was perfect" she admitted, and all of a sudden knew that perfect wasn't good enough. Not any longer. It was the difference between his hand on her arm and his hand entwined with hers. The difference between a perfectly prepared meal and shared milkshakes at the diner. The difference between Booth in a tuxedo and Booth in nothing but a fresh pair of boxers and a clean shave. "Booth…tonight was perfect, but…"
Booth smiled, and chuckled, but they were both humorless, and Brennan felt a clench in her stomach.
"I know, right, Bones?" his jaw worked, and he looked to the side for a moment. "And I should have known."
Booth leaned in and kissed her against the cheek. "You deserve all of this, but…I'm just not good enough" he whispered as he pulled back. "I wanted to prove to you that I could live in your world, and not embarrass you, but, hell" his hand slashed through the air in frustration, "I couldn't even choose the right wine, apparently."
"Booth…" she whispered, stunned.
"Nah, Bones. Don't worry about it. I mean, we gave it a shot, right? And you, I mean…" his eyes traveled over her. "You look amazing. You ARE amazing. You totally fit in there. I'm glad you had a great time."
Brennan's throat closed up. She wanted to say she hadn't had a great time. That any time he was miserable she could never have a good time. But she could only stare at him as he cupped the back of his neck and looked at the floor.
"But I don't fit in there, Bones. In that world. In your world. I'm not good enough, and I think tonight was a perfect example of what we've both always known. You deserve someone who…who can be what you need there. I think I was fooling myself into thinking I could do it. Kind of like the undercover work you love so much." He chuckled painfully, "So…I…" he choked back a breath when she stepped forward and cupped his face.
Brennan's heart expanded. Here was a real sculpture of beauty. A real person, a real man, something a Renaissance artist couldn't help but want to capture. She had no words to express the difference between his warm skin and the cool clay. All of a sudden, he blinked and stepped away from her, and Brennan watched as he forced a smile and took another step back.
It felt like a mile, for both of them, and it was as if she'd already closed her door, the separation between them so concrete.
"So…I'll see you, Bones."
Brennan's jaw worked as she watched Booth turn and walk away from her. His tall frame was sure and strong and going in the opposite direction.
And then he was gone.
And after another minute, she turned and closed her door.
Leaning down to peel off the shoes that had been pinching her toes all night, she realized she was crying.
--b&b--
Booth sat in her driveway for almost an hour. He rested his forehead against the steering wheel as all of his insecurities came back to haunt him. His hands itched and his throat felt tight and he wanted nothing more than to go back up and knock on her door, begging him to let him, to keep him in, where no one else knew about them. Safe in their own world.
"Reality" he scoffed, pressing his head back against the headrest. "Dream on…"
As he put the SUV in reverse, his thoughts mirrored his actions. He would just go back to how it was. Just partners. Just close enough to make sure she was okay. And eventually, he'd forget about how she had perfume in her bathroom because it reminded her of her mother. And he'd forget about how she'd laughed when Parker had made a funny face.
Almost on autopilot, he arrived home and kept the lights off, pulling his clothes off quickly before falling into bed. His face rubbed against something silky, and he knew without looking that it was her discarded bra from the night before.
He tossed it away from him, and pressed his face to his pillow, willing himself to sleep. He cursed the way his throat closed and his eyes watered. Pulling the pillow over his head, he tried to forget everything. And if he tried hard enough, he knew eventually he'd be able to do it.
Eventually he'd forget the way she felt in his arms, about the way she ran her hands over his shoulders after a particularly strong orgasm, the way her skin felt so cool against his, even when they were both overheated. Hers always seemed a few degrees cooler, the perfect temperature to soothe him. He'd eventually forget about the way she'd touched him, turned his world upside down, and he'd forget about the way he felt when she laughed at something he said. He'd forget about the way she seemed to lean into him when she was nervous about something, or if she thought he might be nervous about something. He'd eventually forget about how she was the only other person in the fucking world who understood him.
He spent the rest of the night going over all of the things about her he'd have to forget. And he would forget them. Eventually.
Everything happens eventually.
--b&b--
Thank you all for the continuous comments. I am very honored that you take the time to review. I laughed when I saw the comment about people talking about this story on Twitter. Haha. I feel so cool! I am like Ashton Kutcher or something.
