FINALLY! It's so good to be back and writing. I received so many lovely responses to my Author's Note - you guys really are all so wonderful. I hope this was worth the wait - I'm a little rusty from so much down time, so I hope you'll be forgiving while I find my stride again. Thank you again to all of you who've been so very patient.
THE BET
"How much more of this crapola do we have to sift through?"
Brennan paused, shifting back on her heels and swiping the back of her wrist across her forehead. "Exactly as much as it takes to find the rest of the skull fragments." Absently she swatted at a mosquito while she studied her friend's progress critically. "That's good. Anything you find has to be photographed before you remove it. All specimens can be secured and placed in the containers."
Angela twisted around to face her, her horror clearly apparent. "Oh God – I don't have to figure out what any of it is, do I? Because you know I can't tell a mandible from...some other bone whose name I can't remember. And if I mislabel any of the soil samples, I'll never hear the end of it from Jack."
"No, I don't need you to perform any evaluations on your findings. Just make sure they're properly photographed and bagged – Hodgins and Zach can identify and separate everything when they return."
Angela bent over her small plot of earth again, muttering petulantly. "Small favors. I should be grateful for small favors. So," she continued more loudly, "can you please tell me again why I'm collecting evidence with you when there are fifteen well-qualified groupies – excuse me, grad students - dying a slow, painful death back at the lab because you wouldn't bring any of them along?"
"This is the newest rotation of students, and they aren't familiar with my methods or process yet. As this is more a matter of identification for the lab, and not a crime, it's not an issue for you to assist me. You've done more fieldwork than any of them – I can at least trust that you won't compromise the site."
"Well, woo-hoo for me."
"Did you say something?"
"No." She wasn't one of those frou-frou girly-girls who was afraid of a little dirt. Really she wasn't. But digging up bones was not on her list of Things To Do Before Dying. And it was a really big list. Besides, how could she have her palm read later if Eliane couldn't see her hands under all the grime and muck? "How long are Urkel and Rasputin going to be at that seminar? I mean, they've been gone for hours already."
"Urkel and...oh. They should be back at the lab in about an hour. Take these extra bags. You may need them when you reach the next section."
Reaching out, Angela missed them on the first try. Turning to better locate them, she instantly caught the pensive expression on her friend's face. Instincts not merely humming, but singing the Hallelujah chorus at the top of their lungs, she sat back on her heels and took a good long study. Something was wrong. Brennan was trying to hide it, but something was definitely up. "Wait a minute. It wasn't that you didn't want the interns...it's that you wanted me." She aimed the handful of bags accusingly at her. "What's going on? You have that 'I have to talk but I don't want to talk but I really need to talk' look on your face."
Briskly she turned back to her work, taking care not to meet her eyes. "I don't know what you mean, Angela."
"Oh, yes you do. Don't play clueless with me; it won't work. What's going on?" When she was met with a stony silence, she sighed and tried again. "Look, Sweetie, you obviously need to talk to someone. And you always either talk to Booth or me. Since you begged off of lunch with him but brought me out here, obviously it's about him." She placed a hand on Brennan's arm. "Let's take a break. It's past lunchtime, and while you may not be hungry, I'm starving."
Brennan hesitated, but finally nodded and slowly straightened from the crouch she'd been in for hours. "Yes. Perhaps that would be best."
They settled in the shade beside the Medico-Legal truck, sharing the fresh fruit salad and grilled avocado sandwiches Brennan had loaded into the cooler earlier that morning.
"Okay, so talk to me. What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong. Well, nothing's really wrong," she reluctantly amended, in response to Angela's arched brow.
"Bren, honey, it's me. Are you going to make me pry it out of you? You know you can tell me anything. It'll go no further."
Brennan calmed somewhat at her words. However much of a romantic meddler she might be, one thing Angela could be counted upon was her silence when it was important. "I know, Angela. You are very discreet."
"It's true." With a grin, Angela popped a grape in her mouth. "The only time I'm loose-lipped is when Jack's around."
Unable to help herself, Brennan rolled her eyes and laughed. "Angela..."
"It's true. You can ask him." Satisfied that some of Brennan's tension has dissipated, she leaned forward and patted her shoulder reassuringly. "Now tell me."
Brennan hesitated, unsure where to begin. "You are correct. It is about Booth."
"Sweetie. Of course it is. Tell me what's wrong."
"I'm very confused."
"Confused? In what way?"
"Well...I don't know, precisely."
Angela's eyes widened. She'd heard Brennan say she didn't understand something more times than she could count, but this was a whole new brand of discombobulation for her friend. "Okay...much as I'd like to help you I'm going to need you to elaborate a little bit more for me. Why don't you just tell me what's been happening between you lately and we'll go from there."
"All right." She started to speak and then hesitated. After a minute she began again, her halting voice detailing everything that had happened in the last couple of months. All the things she'd been through with Booth, everything they'd said. Everything they'd done.
To her credit, Angela for once did not interrupt excitedly as she was normally wont to do. Rightly cueing in on the rarity of what was happening and the seriousness of the subject, she sat quietly, all of her attention on her friend. Finally, Brennan's voice faltered and stopped, and Angela held out her napkin. "Here."
Surprised, Brennan looked up at her. "What is that for?"
"You're crying."
She automatically put her hands to her face, wiping the tears away with a profound sense of embarrassment. "I'm sorry...I don't know why."
"Don't you? You're upset, honey, and you're tired. That's more than enough reason. But what you aren't, Brennan, is confused. What you are is conflicted."
"I don't know what you mean."
"You're not confused. That implies that you don't know or understand what's going on. But you do. You understand exactly what's happening but you're afraid of it. You're fighting it." When Brennan opened her mouth to speak, Angela held up a hand. "Wait. You brought me out here to Mosquitoville because you needed to talk. You wanted me to pry this out of you. So now you get to listen to me."
After a long moment Brennan nodded, her eyes fixed on the ground.
"This wouldn't be bothering you if you weren't feeling something. You know, you just assumed that you'd win this bet; that there was no way that Booth could make you feel. But now you are. You're feeling all sorts of emotions, and fear is one of them."
Her reaction was swift and predictable. "I'm not scared, Angela. I just don't want emotional involvement."
"Oh yes, you do. And that's part of what's giving you fits. Now that you've experienced just how special a relationship, a real relationship, can be, you do want it. You want it, but you don't want to want it, so you're pretending you don't want it."
Even accustomed as she was to Angela's roundabout way of expressing herself, Brennan's head began to spin. "I...don't even know where to begin with that sentence."
"Yes you do, Brennan. You know exactly what I mean. Sure, you could go through life protecting yourself. After what you went through I can hardly fault you. But Bren, if you're protecting your heart, then why? What for? You must be keeping it whole for something. You're can't just be preserving it for yourself." Sighing in frustration at the bewildered look on her friend's face, she thought for a moment. "Okay. Let's try this. You don't believe in Heaven, or that there's an afterlife, right?"
"No, Angela. You know I don't."
"Then what are you waiting for?"
"What – I don't understand…"
"If you don't think there's anything...after...after this, why the hell are you so intent on never loving again? If this is your only go-around, why won't you take that chance? Are you going to go through your entire life alone? Avoiding any lasting, real relationship just to preserve your feelings? At the end of your life, do you really want to look back and say, 'Well, at least I didn't let anyone get close enough to hurt me'?" She placed a gentle hand on Brennan's shoulder. "Honey – I know you've already been hurt. I don't want you to think I don't remember that. You've been hurt very badly in a lot of different ways. But you kinda went off in the wrong direction because of it. Yes, you were hurt. But because of that, by my thinking if anyone deserves to have some true happiness, some joy, it's you."
"I'm happy, Angela." She'd averred this sentiment many times, both to herself and to others. But now it didn't seem like a fact. It sounded so hollow. So defensive.
Angela's mouth firmed in a stubborn frown. "No, you're not happy. You're content, and at times you're bordering on happy, but you never quite get to happy and stay there. Not really. And now you have this chance...this wonderful, big chance. It's like there's this beautiful gift, all wrapped in special paper, and there's a lovely tag on the top with your name. It's yours. It was always meant for you. But you refuse to open it. This is your moment, your golden opportunity. What are you waiting for?"
Shaken by her friend's sudden vehemence, Brennan recoiled slightly. "I...I don't need a person to make me happy, Angela. My work makes me happy."
"Bullshit."
"Angela..."
"You heard me." She leaned forward, the dappled sunlight casting soft patterns on the stern lines of her face. "That's a big old paint can full of bullshit. Your work makes you content. It satisfies a part of you. But it doesn't give you joy. Joy so strong that your stomach clenches when you feel it, that your throat closes and you shed tears from the pressure of it. Joy so rich and complete you can taste it."
At a loss, Brennan looked helplessly at her. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"I know – more's the pity. That's exactly my point. For once you're actually telling the truth. You don't know what I'm talking about. You've never experienced the joy that comes from not only being loved, but loving in return. And that scares me." Quick tears sprang to her eyes. "I'm just so afraid that you're going to look around at the end of your life and realize that you missed out, that you denied yourself something so wonderful. That you refused to let anyone touch you. Please don't let that happen, Brennan. Please. It's okay to love."
"I'm..." It was hard, so hard to say it. To admit it to someone. To admit it to herself. But when she looked at Angela, all she saw was acceptance and understanding. Finally, the tightness in her throat went away and she could speak. "I am scared, Angela. I'm so scared. I don't know what to do."
For a while both sat silently. After a few minutes, Angela took a deep breath.
"I'm going to tell you something, something I've never told anyone. For as long as we've known each other, how many times have you seen me move from one location to the next, one relationship to the next?" She fiddled absently with her fork. "We all have things we're afraid of."
Brennan stared at her, surprised. She hadn't expected Angela to say that. She'd always thought her friend was fearless. "You're not afraid to love, Angela."
"Well, no. Love isn't a problem for me – at least, not love of a certain kind. But the kind of love that goes hand-in-hand with trust? That's a different story altogether." A wry smile settled on her lips. "You don't know what it's like, being the daughter of someone famous. People approach you all the time but you never know if it's you they really want or just the connection. A bunch of times when I was younger I trusted people, only to find out that they considered me a one-way ticket to my father." She smiled lopsidedly, accepting Brennan's offered hand with relief. "It hurt a lot. That's one of the reasons why I've never let my relationships become permanent. Until now…until Jack." Her smile grew and warmed. "I'm starting to really trust someone else, probably for the first time in my life. But see – you have that over me, Brennan. You already trust."
Brennan's eyes widened and she crushed her lunch bag in frustrated fists. "How can you say that? After everything I told you how can you think that?"
"No, you don't understand. You may not realize it, but you already trust Booth. Whether you meant to or not, you've trusted him almost since the day you met him. The two of you are best friends; you're family. That's not your issue. What you need, Brennan, is to trust yourself again."
Rather than responding to Angela's statement, she found herself revealing something that had been gnawing at her. "He doesn't trust me."
Surprised by the sudden detour, Angela gaped at her. "What do you mean? Of course he trusts you. He talks to you when he won't talk to anyone else. He trusts you with his life –"
The trees dipped lazily away from the warm breeze, darkening Brennan's downcast face. "I don't know, Angela."
"Wait a minute. Are you talking about that silly argument you guys had in the truck the other day?" A quick glance from Brennan confirmed her suspicions. "Honey, that had nothing to do with trust and everything to do with love."
"You're not making sense, Angela. How can the way he was behaving be because of love?"
"Look. If you knock knees with a guy, eventually you're gonna bump heads. It's normal in a relationship – all guys'll pull that crap, and Booth is definitely a guy. That protective thing he does, sweetie? Part of that is just who he is – he's a protector. He feels it's his responsibility, and that is one man who takes his responsibilities seriously. But I'll tell you right now – I've gone out with him a couple times during investigations, and you can bet your shiny chestnut hair that he never hovered over me like he does over you. Some of it is the partner thing, but, Bren? Most of it...he's trying to tell you something. It's his extremely subtle and non-verbal way of telling you he loves you. Being Booth, he's probably having a moderate to severe problem expressing himself, and this is how he says it without actually saying it. If you ask me, he's waiting for you to say it back."
Panic flared across Brennan's face. "People say things they don't mean all the time, Angela. It comes easily for them. They say things and then you discover that they didn't really mean what they said. But you believed them. You thought it was real, because you didn't know any better. Because you weren't smart enough to know they were lying."
"Did you not just hear me say that, if anything, Booth is having a hard time telling you how he feels? He doesn't want to freak you out. That makes him different from all those other losers who came before." A sudden suspicion flared, and without hesitation she ran with it. "And if I'm not mistaken, how he feels isn't exactly news to you. You're not as oblivious as you let on." She caught the flicker in the pale blue eyes before Brennan looked away. "I thought so. You know how he feels. I was wrong...he said something to you. How long have you known?"
Truths, Brennan thought wearily. She couldn't keep lying to Angela. "He said something the other day. But I've suspected for some time that he was feeling more than mere sexual attraction. The night we went to dinner with you and Jack...he said something."
"What? What did he say?" When Brennan's face flushed, her curiosity grew. But her love for her friends easily slapped down her desire to know everything. "It's okay. If it was something really private you don't have to tell me. I understand."
Brennan heaved a sigh. "He said we belong to each other. But that's not right, Angela. One human being can't belong to another. That possessive attitude, the proprietary nature of it, goes against everything I believe."
"I don't know, Brennan...in theory I agree with you. I'm very independent. But that could be part of my problem. Maybe that's another reason why my relationships never stuck. I was never willing to really, truly belong to someone, and let them belong to me. But lately I've had some time to think about it and I've kinda changed my mind. As long as it's mutual, as long as it goes hand in hand with true respect and a sincere desire for the other person's well-being, what's the harm? If you both feel the same way then it shouldn't matter. Hell, maybe it can even make things better. I have to tell you, I feel very selfish when it comes to Hodgins. Just knowing that he's with me exclusively – well, there was a time when it would have bothered me to say that I was also with him alone. But now? I think I'm beginning to really like it."
"I don't know, Angela. Booth is a textbook example of an Alpha male..."
"...And he respects you so much. More than anyone I've ever met, and as much as I don't want to I have to include myself in that group, if I'm being honest I guess I have to. He truly only wants what's best for you. Everyone else always has an agenda, although they might think they don't. Even if they believe their reasons for doing and saying things are completely altruistic, they're always subtly influenced by their own desires. Not Booth. I can tell you without a moment's doubt - if the best thing for you was that you never saw him again, he would make that happen. No matter how much it might hurt him. Your happiness is paramount to him, honey. And as far as the Alpha male malarkey, well, when was the last time Booth jumped in to fight your fights for you? I mean really just jumped in there and subdued a suspect before you could? I'll tell you when – never. Or at least not since the very beginning of your partnership."
"Wha- how do you know that?"
Angela assumed an arch expression. "I have my ways. But that doesn't matter now. The fact is, Booth isn't some bicep-laden bohunk. Well, he is bicep-laden – he's pretty much everything-laden - but you know what I mean. He lets you fight your own battles all the time. As a matter of fact, I think he probably enjoys watching you pulverize all those hardened criminals. He doesn't step in, but he watches just in case you need help. And that, Brennan, is what a true partnership is. Letting you stand on your own but ready to help if you need it."
"Maybe you're right, Angela. I don't know. I..." Encouraged by Angela's warm hand upon her wrist, by Angela's unquestioning support, she somehow found the courage to say the words. "I think that somehow, I've gotten used to Booth. It's different when we're together. I'm comfortable when I'm with him. I used to think that changing for someone else was hypocritical and weak. But he seems to want me to be just who I am. And maybe...maybe I like having him there."
Angela carefully avoided swallowing her tongue and stared at Brennan with big eyes. This was big. Capital B big. In all the time she'd know Brennan, never had she heard anything even remotely like this come out of her mouth. This was huge. A seismic shift in Brennan's landscape. And without a doubt, she knew her friend would never be the same again. "Finally," she whispered quietly.
"What?"
"Nothing. Listen to me." she continued, the urgency ringing in her low voice. "There is nothing wrong with feeling that way, Brennan. Nothing. You're experiencing what millions of people all over the world experience every day. And it's not a sign of weakness. If anything, it's a strength. Tell me this. Why?"
"Why? What do you mean?"
"Why do you think you might want Booth to be around? What is it specifically that you like?" She casually linked arms with Brennan. "I mean, you don't have to tell me big secrets or anything, but if there's anything you can share...there must be some reasons."
Unable to stop herself, Brennan smiled, for the first time that day feeling the pressure on her chest ease just a bit. No matter what happened in her life, Angela remained unchanged. In her own bizarre, bohemian way, she was as constant as the sunrise. And she really did want to help. Maybe she could tell Angela something. Yes, if she could do that, it might help her as well. Oftentimes, making a list helped organize her thoughts and clarify her course of action. "All right. I could perhaps provide a few examples of attributes Booth possesses."
Carefully arranging her face in calmer lines, Angela resisted the urge to hug her friend. If Brennan needed to be objective – and who was she kidding, Brennan always needed to be objective – then the least she could do was be appropriately serious. For the moment. "Thank you."
"Well...Booth is, of course, an excellent Federal agent. He is extremely courageous, possesses a finely-tuned set of morals, and he is exceedingly trustworthy."
"Of course. That goes without saying. Just an expression, Sweetie," she continued without pausing when Brennan frowned at her. "Keep going."
"Although he does not utilize a logical thought process, he possesses a first-rate mind."
"And a first-rate behind." When she caught sight of her friend's reproachful look, she shrugged impatiently, unable to help herself. She needed to lighten things up. Sometimes Brennan was too serious. "Well, come on, now. Are you going to tell me that the only things that are on your list are his intangible qualities? 'Cause let me tell you – that man's 'tangible assets' are many."
For a moment Brennan struggled to maintain a disapproving frown. But when Angela rolled her eyes and fanned herself, she was unable to suppress a small smile. "I would be remiss if I neglected to mention Booth's physical aspects. It is important from an anthropological standpoint –"
"The only standpoint that's important is that women stand and point when Hottie McHottstein walks in the room."
"He does have quite an impressive frame, and he possesses truly formidable strength."
"Impressive frame is right. Gives you more to hold on to." Knowing it never failed to get a reaction, Angela adopted a lascivious expression. "And then there's that face. Admit it, Bren, you're dating a stud."
She simply couldn't help it. Despite her emotional upheaval, she couldn't stop her laughter.
"There. That's better." She waited until Brennan calmed. "I understand that this is a big deal for you. Really I do. But you have to remember that this isn't genocide, and it's not world hunger. It's just a man, a wonderful man who loves you. A man you love."
Startled and caught off-guard, Brennan stuttered for a moment before finding her voice. "I never said I was in love with Booth, Angela."
"Remember that big old paint can I mentioned before? Well, there's no more room for any bullshit in it, babe. You're in love with Booth, and nothing you say to the contrary is ever going to convince me. You're Miss Anthropology, and you always say that to be a good anthropologist you have to be a good observer. Well, you're not the only one who's good at paying attention. I am too. I've learned a lot from you, and I've been watching you with Booth for a long time. Now why don't you 'fess up?"
Brennan looked at Angela. Looked away. Frayed the edge of her napkin. Angela. It's only Angela. Angela was her friend. Finally she thought about it, casting about for words the way one might check for a sore tooth. "It is possible that my...that the way I feel for Booth has changed." Tensing, she waited for pain, for fear. For the crowding panic that always assailed her at the mere thought of these moments. But there was nothing. Nothing but a sense of relief and a quick flush of exhaustion.
If anyone ever needed a hug, it was Brennan. It was obvious that she was really struggling with this. She could tell just by looking that she wasn't sleeping well. But Angela knew her friend would never accept it here, where there was no privacy. She settled for rubbing her thumb soothingly against Brennan's wrist. "There. Is it really so hard to admit that you feel something for the guy?"
"No. I suppose not." Like slender, carved pieces of ivory, her fingers pressed against her legs. "But Booth is a highly admirable person."
What Brennan left unspoken was obvious. "And you're not?"
She quietly dug at the dry soil with a twig, watching intently as little puffs of dust rose into the air. "All of the other men with whom I've had relationships...I thought they were admirable too."
"Please don't tell me you're still blaming yourself for that. Are you actually going to think less of yourself because you trusted?"
"It's hardly commendable that I can't even determine when someone I know well isn't being honest with me."
"Don't you dare put this on yourself. You did nothing wrong – as a matter of fact, you only did what we all do at one point or another in our lives. You believed the wrong person. It doesn't always work out, and when that happens it hurts like hell. But that's just not a good enough reason to give up on love."
"Does it happen to everyone numerous times?"
"Well...not always. You were just a little unlucky before. But then there was Sully. Now I know what you're going to say," she quickly added, "you're going to say that he left. And yes, he did leave. However hard that must have been for you, though, you can't deny that he was a great guy who was never anything but kind, and always completely honest with you. He just wasn't right for you. But now...now you're having a really really lucky streak, Bren. I'm not talking about the nookie factor, either. It just took you some time to find the guy who not only earned your trust, but who deserved it. Why don't you give him a break? No, that's not right," she hastily amended. "Why don't you give yourself a break? You know, for someone who always comes across as so confident, you're a real basket case." Winded from her slightly frantic attempt to convince Brennan, she finally paused for a moment.
"I know what basket case means," Brennan muttered, her brow crinkling. "Booth explained it to me."
"Well, it's true but I say it with love. You know, you work on improving yourself in every way but one, sweetie. You need to work on letting yourself be happy."
Her next words were interrupted when a small car careened into the clearing and jerked to a halt behind the truck. "We're here! What'd we miss?" Hodgins sprang out of the Mini, fully suited up and toting his duffel bag. Zach followed more slowly, awkwardly unfolding his lankier frame from the small bucket seat.
Angela frowned in confusion. "I thought we were supposed to meet up with you back at the lab. How did you get out here so soon?"
"Hodgins broke traffic laws in several towns in order to shorten our travel time. He drove quite carelessly."
At Zach's revelatory words Jack rounded on him, bristling indignantly. "Oh yeah? Well I wouldn't have had to drive so fast if someone hadn't asked forty-seven questions after the seminar."
Frowning in confusion, Zach shook his head. "I didn't ask forty-seven questions. I asked nine questions."
"Dude, don't you know you never ask questions after one of those things? When they ask if anyone has any questions, you don't say anything. Everyone just wants to leave."
"Dr. Brennan sent us to the seminar to learn important new lab procedures. I would be negligent if I left without fully understanding the new process."
"Yeah, uh-huh. Meanwhile, I had to move away from you because I feared for my life. Did you see the glares people were throwing at us? It was getting ugly in there."
Fully aware that they were quite capable of discussing their current topic for hours, Brennan crisply interrupted. "Regardless of why you're here, since you are here I would prefer that you be useful. Zach, please review the samples Angela collected and make sure they were gathered correctly. Dr. Hodgins, please continue where Angela stopped. I'd like to finish this by the end of the day." Aware of the curious look on Zach's face, Brennan hastily began gathering up their discarded lunch material. It would be counterproductive to have either of them wondering why Angela was here at all. "Angela, since Zach and Dr. Hodgins are here I'll be able to finish cataloguing everything without your assistance."
Instantly picking up on her cue, she nodded and began to gather her things. "Jack, I'll take the Mini back so you can finish here. You'll ride back in the truck?"
Already engrossed in the soil samples arrayed before him, Jack mumbled distractedly and waved a hand in her general direction.
"Well, I guess that's my answer." She rolled her eyes and made her way over to the Mini, plucking the keys off the roof where Jack had left them. But before she could open the door she was brought up short by Brennan's hand on her arm. She stopped and turned to her, tipping her head questioningly. At that same moment Brennan's cel phone beeped, and Angela waited patiently while she checked the ID.
"Hello...yes, Angela and I had to do a non-criminal identification for the Institute. No, no...Angela's headed back to the lab now. Tonight? What time? All right...I'll call you when I get back to my office. Yes, that would be fine." She terminated the call and looked at Angela again.
"Booth."
"Yes, Booth." There were so many things she wanted to say to Angela, but she knew she didn't have the words. "Thank you."
The sentiment was almost whispered, but there was no doubting the stark emotion etched upon her face. She threw caution to the wind and gave Brennan a short, fierce hug. "You're welcome, Sweetie." Before she stepped away, she leaned close and spoke in a low tone. "Just remember - change can be a wonderful thing. You've been a rock for a long time, Brennan." Her lips curved knowingly. "Luckily for you, Booth's the ocean. He'll never stop coming to you."
I know - after all this time, a chapter with no Booth! I'm sorry - but this was a chapter that had to happen. Brennan really needed some girl talk. I promise our gorgeous FBI guy will be back full-force in the next chapter. I've already started working on it - I'm hoping all stays quiet on the home front for a while. Thank you again for reading.