Another break-up. More fluff. Enjoy.
"Can I ask you something?"
Booth eyed the three empty beer bottles in front of him, before throwing Cam a wry smile. "Sure, why not?"
"If you had to choose between Hannah and Brennan, who'd you pick?"
He immediately tensed at the question, leaning away from her and signaling the bar tender for another drink. "What kind of a question is that?" He tried to keep his tone light but he had a feeling he wasn't going to enjoy this conversation.
Cam shrugged. She'd never shied away from making him squirm. "I don't know. It just seems like, right now, you have the best of both worlds."
Booth felt an uneasy feeling creep into the pit of his stomach. "What do you mean?" he asked, not meeting her eye.
She shrugged again and took a sip of wine. "Well, you spend all day with Bones, laughing, solving crimes, hanging out at the diner. Then you go home and you have Hannah for the romance and the sex—"
"Cam!"
"I'm just saying, Seeley, you're practically dating two women."
"Except I'm not. I'm only dating one. Bones and I are just friends. She's free to date whoever she wants." He believed what he was saying, but somehow the words rang hollow—even to his own ears.
"Seeley," she muttered, rolling her eyes like he was the biggest idiot on the planet.
"What?" he asked.
"You know that's not true."
"What? The part about me and Bones being friends? You of all people should know that most definitely is true."
The bitterness in his tone was not lost on her, but she forged ahead anyway. "No, the part about Brennan being free to date whoever she wants."
He frowned. Shrugged. Sipped his beer. "Well she is, isn't she?"
"Technically yes," she replied, her gaze steady and knowing—too knowing—on his face. "She doesn't though. She hasn't gone on a date since she got back from Maluku."
"And that's my fault somehow?"
Cam sighed and turned away from him. "A relationship with no sex."
"What?"
"That's what Angela called it. A relationship with no sex."
"Look, Cam—"
"All I'm saying Seeley, is you might want to figure out where your priorities are."
"My priorities?"
"Seeley," she said, her voice softening slightly. "You already know the answer to this."
He swallowed hard, his eyes fixed steadily on his beer bottle. "I do?" he questioned quietly.
"I'd say you've known for about seven years."
—BB—
It scared him how easily he made the choice. Hannah or Bones? Cam had asked and his mind had chosen before he could even process the question. Bones, it said quietly, steadily. Bones, of course. It's always been Bones.
That night at dinner, as he listened to Hannah complain about her boss and her boring day in the office, he thought of Bones. He thought of the way his whole body warmed when she smiled at him, and the way his own tears rose to the surface when she cried. He thought of the thrill he got when she lay her hand on his arm, the way his whole being, for just a moment, revolved around the brush of her fingers in the crook of his arm. Bones, he thought quietly. It's always been Bones.
"Hannah," he said quietly, interrupting her ranting.
"Yes?"
"I, um…I was just wondering." He lifted his eyes from his dinner plate to her face. "Do you love me?"
She frowned and let out a confused, half-chuckle. "What's this about, Seeley?"
"Do you love me?" He said it again, slower this time, steadier.
She nodded, and said, "Of course, I do," but even as the words left her mouth her brow was creasing with doubt.
"Do you think about me?" he asked.
Her frown deepened. She set her fork down beside her plate. "Do I think about you?" she repeated.
"Yeah," he said easily like they were discussing a case or the weather. "Like when you're at work or at the grocery store or jogging in the park, do you think about me?"
She shrugged. Her eyes shifted away from his face. "Yeah, sometimes," she murmured softly. Her gaze was distant. "Do you think about me?"
He smiled, a little sadly. "No," he admitted. "I don't."
She nodded. She didn't seem all that surprised. He watched as she lifted her napkin from her lap and carefully folded it on the table, before standing up and walking around the table to him. "I know, Seeley."
"You do?" he asked, suddenly feeling guilty, suddenly remembering that he did love her in some way.
"Yes," she told him gently, lifting a hand to his cheek. "Do you think I didn't know?"
"I don't know," he admitted. "I…I hope you knew—I hope you know—that I did love you. I hope you could at least see that."
She nodded. "I did," she assured him.
He nodded too and dropped his gaze to his lap. She smiled and leaned forward, pressing a light kiss to his cheek. "You're a good man, Seeley Booth," she murmured and walked out the door.
—BB—
He tracked her down in the bone room, identifying the remains of World War I soldiers. "Jeez, Bones, don't you ever sleep?"
She barely glanced up at his sudden presence beside her at midnight on a Saturday. "I've been having trouble sleeping lately," she told him frankly and he had to wonder if it had something to do with him, with the way their relationship had changed.
He smiled slightly, but she was too engrossed in her bones to notice. "Me too," he admitted softly, stepping behind her and peering over her shoulder, watching as her careful fingers traced a bullet hole in the skull she held.
She didn't comment on his admission. Still, she didn't even look at him. "What are you doing here, Booth?" she finally asked. She could feel the heat from his body through her lab coat.
"I just…I wanted to…" He trailed off and shook his head, leaning away from her. "I wanted to tell you that I…I choose you."
She stilled. He saw her body grow tense. She put down the skull and turned around, lifting her eyes to his face. He wondered if his vague statement was totally lost on her. "You choose me?" she asked softly and he could see that, in some way, she understood what he meant.
"Always, Bones," he promised. "I always choose you."
He watched as her eyes filled with tears, as her lips parted, her breath catching in her throat. "So you…" She bowed her head forward and he moved closer. "So you…" She couldn't bring herself to ask.
"So," he murmured and she lifted her hands to rest against his chest. "So I love you, Bones."
She leaned into him and he slipped his arms around her waist. Pressed his lips to her forehead. "Why did you leave?" she breathed, the words muffled in his shirt, and he knew she wasn't talking about Afghanistan.
He sighed. "You broke my heart, Bones."
A shudder ran through her body at the words. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
"It's not your fault," he told her. And it wasn't. "I asked for too much. I expected too much."
She looked up at him. "I do love you," she said, her gaze bright and intent on his face. "In some way, I do. Even though I can't measure it or prove it or analyze it, I know I do."
"You do?"
She smiled. "I learned that from you."
"I taught you how to love?"
"You helped me remember how."
He pulled her closer. "Oh, Bones," he murmured. He bowed his head forward and pressed a feather-light kiss to her lips. "My Bones," he breathed and felt her melt into him.
"My Booth," she returned.
He nodded and kissed her nose. "Always."
Thank you again for all the wonderful feedback. I know every author on FanFiction says this, but it truly does make me want to write more when I know what I post is being read and enjoyed. So… REVIEW! :)