Author's Note: Thanks for your patience, everybody. This chapter, so far, was one of the toughest to work out. After several revisions, I'm pretty pleased with it. Let me know if it was worth all the work.
Disclaimer: This story belongs to me and my muses. Please do not reproduce or take it as your own work. That's plagarism. Bones and When Harry met Sally aren't mine. Speaking of the film, any italics you see throughout the chapter are direct quotes. If you don't want to be spoiled, watch the movie first. I didn't include the ending to the movie, so at least in that regard, you're safe to read.
And that's how I ended up on Angela's couch, wearing a pair of her pajamas, sipping wine, and eating a leftover piece of "sex cake." I had to admit that it was delicious, but I don't like my sex they way I like my cake. This cake was not uninhibited in the least, so I think Booth's classification was a bit biased.
As for the movie, it had only just begun but, I was pretty confident I knew how it was going to play out. I am, after all, a critically acclaimed author. I know plot lines. Sally had just pulled up in front of the University of Chicago where Harry and his current love interest are saying their goodbyes. Harry and Sally will be driving to New York together. Two strangers, driving long distance, isn't it obvious? They're going to fall in love. They may bicker and disagree, but they'll fall in love. It's inevitable I decided, though, not to tell Angela that I'd figured it out. She seemed to be enjoying herself, and it was my gift to her. This gift may not serve the purpose that Sweets had described, but Angela and I had a social contract that I was going to honor.
As I predicted, the two did bicker. They argued about great sex, about their prospective dark sides, about Casablanca, but then they came upon an argument that I honestly had not foreseen nor ever before considered.
"You realize of course that we can never be friends," Harry says when Sally rejected a potential come-on of his and suggested friendship as a safe alternative.
"Why not?"
"What I'm saying—and this is not a come-on in any way, shape, or form—is that men and women can't be friends because the sex part always gets in the way."
I'd never thought about it that way before. Is he right? I have male friends, and so did Sally.
"That's not true. I have a number of male friends and there is no sex involved," Sally argues.
"No you don't."
"Yes I do."
"No you don't."
"Yes I do."
"You only think you do," Harry counters.
Booth is my friend, isn't he? It's said that he's good in bed, but I have no direct knowledge of that fact. I don't think that gets in the way any.
"You say I'm having sex with these men without my knowledge?" Sally questions, clearly skeptical.
"No, what I'm saying is they all want to have sex with you."
Well, he had a bit of a point there. Booth thinks several men ogle at me for that very reason. And why shouldn't they? I'm at the top of my field, I've written several books, and I'm practically a celebrity. And though I don't like to reflect back on that night, Booth wanted to give us a change. Romantic courtships, especially those lasting thirty, forty, or fifty years, inevitably would involve sexual intercourse. But he never said he wanted sex. Booth doesn't like to discuss his sex life with me; it makes him uncomfortable. Besides, he has Hannah now. He's having sex with her and I'd like to think that we're still friends.
"How do you know?" Sally asks.
"Because no man can be friends with a woman he finds attractive. He always wants to have sex with her."
"So you're saying that a man can be friends with a woman he finds unattractive?" she attempts to clarify.
Refer back to the aforementioned ogling. It is difficult for me to believe that I am unattractive. I know that I am attractive and I know Booth recognizes this as well.
"No, you pretty much want to nail them too." Harry said, crushing that theory.
"What if they don't want to have sex with you?"
"Doesn't matter because the sex thing is already out there, so the friendship is ultimately doomed and that is the end of the story."
"Do you think that's true, Ange?" I asked, reaching for the remote control and temporarily pausing the movie. She turned to look at me, seemingly surprised that I had even been paying attention. She gave me a knowing smile.
"You're questioning your relationship with Booth!" she said excitedly, pointing a finger in accusation.
"No, I'm not," I said sternly, "I'm questioning whether men and women can be friends."
"Come on, Bren, how many male friends do you have?" I thought about this and found the first flaw in the argument. What is their definition of friendship? This is infringing on Sweets' territory, but Aristotle said there are three types of friendships, so some specification is clearly needed to make a solid argument.
The first type is based on utility. It changes with the circumstances and one generally hopes to gain advantages from it. This seems to be the friendship Sally has in mind. Harry was the only person she'd know in New York and it would be advantageous for her to have at least one friend, one familiar face.
The second type of friendship is that based on pleasure, where one's main interest lies in their own happiness. Perhaps this is Harry's view. He is almost suggesting that men have this interest, but that seems evident even without any sort of established relationship. And it's not just men. Satisfaction of biological urges is an interest of members of either gender.
The third type deals with mutual goodness. People befriend those with whom they share a sort of goodness. This one is the most obscure to me. Their goodness? Moral goodness? Good intentions? Good at what they do? I find this quite unclear, yet more satisfying than the other two proposed types.
I asked Angela which she thought was right.
"I think this Aristotle guy was on to something. To me, it's not even about the types so much as it is that there are types. There are these different types because people and friendships are so unique. I'm willing to bet there are more than three, too. Friendship takes on a different meaning for everyone."
I nodded, taking what she said into consideration. It was not a committed answer and, therefore, not all that satisfying to me. I figured a more specific question would get me the answers I seek. "What is our type?" I asked.
"You're asking me why we're friends? Sounds like someone's fishing for compliments."
"I don't know what that means, but yes, that is what I'm asking."
"Alright, way to put me on the spot, Bren. But then again, I think that's kind of our thing. Honest, sometimes brutal, communication. We tell each other the truth, even when it's the last thing the other want s to hear. We're two opinionated women, and, if nothing else, it makes things very interesting," she laughed. "At the end of the day, you teach me and I teach you." she said, tears beginning to spring to her eyes. "This is going to sound super sappy, but so much of who I am now is because of your influence. Without you, I'd be a starving artist somewhere. I wouldn't be helping you and Booth solve murders. I wouldn't have gotten to know the irritating yet loveable Jack Hodgins nor bringing into this world this perfect little testament to our love."
I was genuinely touched by her words, but I was unaware of the proper response. I set my wine glass on the coffee table and pulled my friend into an awkward hug. "If I could reciprocate the sentiment as eloquently as you have, I would." I told her, and she laughed.
"You don't have to say anything," she told me. "You do so in your own little squinty ways. I know how hard it is for you to say what's in your heart, but one of these days, you'll get there. I've still got a lot to teach you."
"Back to the movie?" I suggested, growing uncomfortable with the amount of emotional sentiment in the room.
"Start her up."
Despite my plot knowledge, I paid more attention this time. I still had a lot of questions. The film could hardly be considered educational, but it was a fascinating display of human interaction.
Several years later, Harry and Sally cross paths in an airport and end up sitting side-by-side on the plane. We learn that both are involved with other people and that Harry is engaged to be married. I observed their behavior on the flight, and they seemed friendly enough to me. Maybe Harry's perspectives have shifted with age? Perhaps his relationship with Helen has changed him, just like Booth and Angela continually attempt to do for me. And, I suppose it's working some. I'm certainly not the exact same Temperance Brennan I was six years ago.
When their flight lands, Harry suggests that the two share a meal, something that Sally considers a friend gesture.
I thought you didn't believe men and women could be friends? she recalls.
No,no,no,no, I never said that…Yes, that's right they can't be friends. Unless both of them are involved with other people, then they can. This is an amendment to the earlier rule. If the two people are in relationships, the pressure of possible involvement is lifted. That doesn't work either, because what happens then is, the person you're involved with can't understand why you need to be friends with the person you're just friends with. Like it means something is missing from the relationship and why do you have to go outside to get it? And when you say 'No,no,no,no it's not true, nothing is missing from the relationship,' the person you're involved with then accuses you of being secretly attracted to the person you're just friends with, which you probably are. I mean, come on, who the hell are we kidding, let's face it. Which brings us back to the earlier rule before the amendment, which is men and women cannot be friends.
My head was spinning, metaphorically of course. How does he come up with these things? No hesitation whatsoever. It's as if there's some sort of rule book that he's memorized to the very last word. Damn you, fictional Harry, you've rendered me confused. Maybe every time Booth has to clarify to people that we're just partners, it's because that's all we really are. Maybe that metaphorical line that we can't cross is friendship. Maybe I couldn't reciprocate Booth's declaration in front of the Hoover that night, but that doesn't mean he isn't important to me. I am uncomfortable not knowing my place. As Angela told me, I still have a lot to be taught.
This time Angela paused the movie.
"Stop thinking so hard. I'll pour you another glass of wine and I want you to relax. The funniest moments are yet to come."
Trying not to think takes quite the effort, but I was growing tired now, so I submitted myself to the wine and cheesy jokes for the remainder of the evening.
Author's Note: So, what did you think? Reviews are always appreciated. Next chapter, Booth and Brennan discuss friendship