Looking through the window, Brennan watched Booth, just watched him. Jumping for joy, the emotive actor almost remained in full control of the stage. Overjoyed at the guilty pleasure, Brennan allowed her eyes to drink in every molecule making up Booths features. The hand covering his eyes became limp and slipped away. It now rested on the emergency break, halfway between the seats. A smile graced Brennan's lips as she turned away.
Across the street, Brennan spied a pharmacy. After purchasing paracetamol and water, she ambled back to her car. Aware she now had two choices before her. She could take Booth back to her apartment and let him sleep off his inebriation or continue with her plan which might be compromised by his current state. Brennan bit her lip with indecision. Either way, Booth would need to re-hydrate in order to prevent the effects of the alcohol he'd consumed. Paracetamol might stave off the impending hang over but Brennan knew it wouldn't do anything for the anger he felt.
The rational scientist, for purely logical reasons, could only chose to keep him safe and protected because that's what a good friend could be expected to do. Although their friendship had suffered recently, they were still partners, still looking out for each other. The rational portion of her brain insisted Brennan take this course of action. Alcohol caused respiratory depression, if complicated with vomiting while passed out, Booth might aspirate. Which could conceivably lead to infection or even death and Brennan didn't want to contemplate this fate.
It's what Booth would do if the situation were reversed, Brennan reminded her newly discovered emotional side.
Yer, just like the night he saved your life, you opened up to him and he left you standing in the rain on the side walk of your apartment building, crying your eyes out, snarled the emotional actor, unleashing an anger the likes of which Brennan never felt before. This new emotive force had other ideas, and taking him home to sleep it off didn't come close. This Brennan was in control, and said 'To hell with it, we carry on with the plan.'
When Brennan climbed into the drivers' seat, she once again noticed Booths hand. It'd strayed into middle of the car, almost begging to be held. Brennan found her extremity complying while thanking her choice of automatic car. Wether he needed physical comfort from another human being or her specifically, Bones didn't know. She was too delighted at the prospect of continuing their physical bond.
Temperance Brennan's thought became immersed in the plan to show the man at her side just how much she wanted what he had to offer. Flipping out her phone, she dialled a number. Once the person on the other end picked up, there would be no turning back. Judge Turner could expedite the paperwork necessary for a marriage licence, blood tests belayed until the morrow at his order and the civil ceremony conducted tonight within the Judges chambers.
Set in Brennan's mind as the only course of action, she stopped. The phone lay forgotten in her lap with a half complete phone number on the screen. Chocolate brown eyes opened before closing quickly to shut out the street light. Fingers flexed, holding tighter to the small warm hand encased in his.
The meaning in Booths dream became blindingly clear. Assaulted by the images he didn't want to contemplate at this particular minute, Booth sighed deeply. He knew the significance of the ring and Bones offer in his dream. Finally, she would be able to give him an open heart, at least as open as possible. It might not be the all consuming relationship he wanted but then again, compromise was just part of life.
True, the thick walls surrounding her emotions had been shattered, but the foundations were intact. It would take time, effort and patients to disassemble the underpinnings of Bones distrust. Booth knew, without a shadow of a doubt, one day his anger would allow him to do just that. Today however wasn't that day.
'I made a mistake, Bones, alright?' Sighing heavily, Booths reached for the seats control and sat up. The consequences of his sudden movement almost tore a painful grunt from his lips. Head in his hands, Booths voice could only be called a whisper. 'I. Made. A. Mistake.' Pure emotion punctuated the space between each word. Anger, disappointment, regret and, yes, even love, were expressed.
With those words, the emotional actor, who'd stolen the stage of Brennan's mind tonight, exited, quietly. They'd been defeated with a single look. So much passed between them in the second their eyes met. The rational, logical woman knew exactly what she needed to do. More, Brennan knew why she had to take Booth back to her home, to safety. It had everything to do with friendship, the future and promises.
Forcing his eyelids up against an insurmountable force, Booth looked at his friend and partner in the eye. 'I promise you this, in the future, when I'm less angry and you can maintain your open heart, we'll both commit to a serious monogamous relationship.' Unable and unwilling to expand on his actions tonight, he pleaded, 'NOW can you let me die in peace!'
Brennan instinctively understood Booths appeal for space. Handing him the water bottle and two white pills, she stated, 'water will dilute the alcohol in your blood stream decreasing the effects of your impending hang over, while the medication will help with the headache.'
'Thanks, Bones,' Booth sighed, closing his eyes once again after taking the offered relief.
The walls might be obliterated; the foundations still strong, yet the death of Mr Nigel-Murray would change that. Until then, Brennan would show him, everyday how much she'd grown, how much she'd opened her heart and that she would be there for him emotionally, when their moment finally arrived.
Thank you for staying with this story. I have another coming out soon, called the Baby in the Bones, Seeley in the Soldier. See yar then.