Note: As promised, this one's happier. Well, at least no one dies.
What if: Brennan had moved on after the Doctor in the Photo?
AU? Yes
BbBbBb BbBbBb BbBbBb BbBbBb BbBbBb BbBbBb
"So", Angela says, leaning against the door jam of Brennan's office, "It's been far too long since we had a girl's night."
Brennan swivels her desk chair to face her friend, abandoning the report she was working on. "The kind of girl's night where you drag me to get my toenails painted, or the kind of girl's night where you get intoxicated and dance inappropriately with strange men?"
Angela smiles ruefully. "The second one."
"That would be inadvisable, as you are currently pregnant."
"True", Angela agrees, "But I wouldn't be drinking. Come on, wouldn't it be nice to go out, dance, have some fun?"
Brennan's not so sure. Yes, she sometimes enjoys the loud music, the strong beats, but it's been years since she's participated in that kind of night, and a part of her is afraid she'd stand on the side of the dance floor, wishing she were at home.
On the other hand, it has been a long time since she's done anything with Angela, and she did decide weeks ago that it was time to stop pulling away from her friends.
"OK", she agrees, making an effort to smile.
Years of experience have taught Angela that it's better not to give Brennan too much time to reconsider, so she immediately replies, "Great! Tomorrow night, you and I are painting the town red."
"Oh." Brennan's voice is flat, almost toneless.
Angela puts her hands on her hips, and mock-glares at her friend. "You're not backing out on me, are you?"
"I am, actually", Brennan answers. "I have a date tomorrow."
BbB
Alcohol and a room packed full of strangers gyrating to loud music is replaced by brunch and girl talk – which in this case means Angela asking question after question about Brennan's date.
There's not much to tell.
His name is Derek, and he's a new member of the Jeffersonian Paleontology department. They met in the cafeteria, and struck up a conversation while waiting in line for the salad bar.
He's absolutely the type she used to go for – smart, lean, confident in his own abilities. She isn't really sure that dating him is a good idea, but being open to new intimate relationships is something else she decided to try in the aftermath of her sobbing breakdown in Booth's car.
And let's be honest, it's been far too long since she's had sex.
So she says yes. Worst case scenario, she'll fake an urgent call from work.
Angela is excited – something about living vicariously through her – and insists on coming over to rummage through her closet. It's completely unnecessary – Brennan has been dressing herself for years, and she's more than capable of doing so again tonight – but Angela insists, and Brennan finds it nice to have a hint of their old friendship back. She goes along with it, even when it means trying on outfit after outfit after outfit.
She draws the line at letting Angela do her makeup and hair and shoos her friend home at 4:30. She's not meeting Derek until 7, and she needs time to get ready both physically and mentally. At six thirty, she leaves for the restaurant, still not certain that this is a good idea.
She's wrong. He's a good man, and she has a good time.
BbB
Three weeks – and six dates, if you don't count the three times they meet for lunch in the cafeteria – later, they have sex. Uncharacteristically, Brennan is the one who wants to take it slow. Her brain is fast, but she's still struggling to adjust.
But she likes him, and she likes having someone who wants to spend time with her, and one night she decides she's tired of waiting.
It's good. Not the magic that Booth once told her is out there, but satisfying, enjoyable sex. It's the right decision.
They go on from there, and eventually she realizes she's happy. Not the exuberant, joyous happiness she felt when she saw Booth at the reflecting pool, but solid, steady contentment.
She'll take it.
Booth doesn't find out for weeks. They don't talk much about their personal lives these days, preferring to stick to case-related topics, and although she considers mentioning that she's seeing someone in the hopes that it will help propel them back onto the solid ground of "just partners", she's not sure of the etiquette of the situation. She says nothing.
Hannah knows – after all, she and Brennan like to tell themselves that they're friends – but she doesn't want to bring it up.
And then one morning, Brennan's cell phone rings at quarter to five, and she's faced with the realization that she has a case and her car is sitting in the parking spot at her apartment, five miles away. She cringes and asks him to pick her up, even though she's been taking her own car to crime scenes for months.
He doesn't ask why she's not at home. Well, he doesn't ask her. He knows her colleagues and her interns, and with a casual comment here, an innocent-sounding question there, he gets the picture.
He tells himself he's happy for her and tries to ignore how unsettled the thought of her being happy with someone else makes him.
Three days later, he goes out drinking with Sweets and decides it's time to take the next step with Hannah. He buys a ring and tells himself that this time it'll be different, this time he'll get what he wants.
He's wrong.
(One day he will get the family he longs for, but not now, not with Hannah.)
He finds himself at the Founding Fathers. A couple of years ago, he could be sure he'd run into one of the squints there, but he figures it's safe now. The team that was once so cohesive has scattered, busy with lives that no longer intersect like they once did.
Seven drinks later, he's drunk and melancholy and bitter and glad that no one knows he's there.
Naturally, that's when someone he knows walks in.
It's not Brennan – she and Derek are away for the weekend. She considers it an experiment, a test to see whether they are truly compatible, and in the interest of focusing on her relationship, she's turned off her cell phone. She doesn't know Hannah has left her a message, and probably wouldn't know what to do if she listened to the message.
No, it's not Brennan.
It's Cam, stopping in for a late night drink after going to a play with Sam. (She hasn't given up on Paul, exactly, but they've been kind of seeing each other for a couple of years now, and she's still second place to his job, and it's not like they've ever been really serious.)
She just wants to have a drink and talk and flirt and wonder what it would be like if she took Sam home.
Stopping a friend from drinking himself to death is not on her to-do list, but she's a good person, so she apologizes to her date and slides onto the bar stool next to Booth.
He's not happy to have a living, breathing reminder of the way his humiliation will fly through the Jeffersonian grapevine. In fact, he'd be quite happy if she'd just leave him and go back to her date – a point he makes so forcefully that he ends up sloshing half a glass of scotch onto the bar.
In response, she pries the glass out of his hand, slides off her stool, and holds out her hand. "Come on, Seeley, it's time to go home."
They're at the door before he manages, "Don't call me Seeley, Camille."
BbB
You really can't die from a broken heart, especially if it turns out to actually be wounded pride, so life goes on. Brennan gets back from her weekend away, listens to her voicemail and, during the next case, awkwardly says, "I'm sorry you and Hannah broke up."
Booth grunts in reply, making it very clear he doesn't want to discuss it, and she turn her attention back to the bones, which always make sense if you pay attention.
After his one night of indulgence, Booth stops drinking. No going to the bar, no beer during the game, no scotch after a hard case. It's not forever, but he's afraid that if he starts drinking now, he'll never stop, and Parker deserves a father who's not a drunk.
And then it's Valentine's Day, the stupidest, most made-up holiday of them all, a day named after a saint who may not have existed, a holiday created so couples could rub the noses of their single friends in their happiness.
Yes, he's still bitter.
Cam wants to wrap up the case so that it doesn't interfere in her plans. Hodgins spends the day trying to figure out the perfect gift for Angela. And Bones … Bones says "Quality forensic work takes time, and the remains will still be here tomorrow."
Man, he hates that doofus she's dating.
He spends the night at the shooting range, pretending the paper target is …. Well, let's just say he's still hurt and angry and leave it at that. Brennan goes for dinner and invites Derek back to her place. They're making their way to the bedroom when she suddenly wonders what Booth is doing.
It's very unfortunate timing, and she pushes the thought away and forces herself back to the moment. Later that night, when Derek is asleep and she's still wide awake, she wonders again. She doesn't like the idea of Booth, who has always believed in love, spending Valentine's Day alone mere weeks after being rejected by someone he loved.
After far too little sleep, she crawls out of bed, writes a note to Derek explaining she had to go to work, and rushes out the door. She picks up two coffees and shows up at Booth's door just as he's about to leave for the day.
She thrusts the coffee towards him, uncomfortably babbling about how February 14 recognizes romantic love and that friendship – partnership, in fact – deserves to be recognized as well. He looks … well, baffled, really, but he takes the coffee and they walk down the stairs together.
They don't drive together – he's off to the FBI, she's going to the Jeffersonian – but she offers him a tentative little smile before she climbs behind the wheel.
He smiles back, for what feels like the first time in years, and walks to his vehicle, just a little more hopeful than he'd been the day before.
BbBbBb BbBbBb BbBbBb BbBbBb BbBbBb BbBbBb
I'd love to hear what you think.
