(The Bikini in the Soup)

I don't own Bones.

Ooooooooooooooooooo

Anxious, Booth blurted out what he'd been holding inside since Hannah had arrived at the park. "I love you Hannah and I just . . . When I met you, I really, honestly wondered if I was ever going to meet anyone again . . . I . . ."

Hannah was stunned. She knew that her boyfriend wanted to get married, but she didn't and she'd thought he'd understood that. She'd told him several times that marriage would never happen and now, he'd crossed a line she'd hoped he wouldn't cross. "Seeley, oh my God." She feared that if she didn't handle this the right way, her affair would end, but what was the right way?

He saw the look on Hannah's face, but decided it was just nerves. God knew he was nervous. Holding out the box that contained an engagement ring, he smiled at her. "Marry me. I want you to be my wife." Much to his amazement, what he had hoped would be a beautiful moment turned into another Major disappointment. She claimed to love him, but she said no and turned down his proposal. He didn't know what was wrong with him, but clearly there was something about him that caused women he loved to reject him when he wanted more.

Confused and hurt, he tried to make sense with what was happening. He knew he had a lot of baggage in his life, but he rarely dwelled on the past. He barely talked about it with the women he was involved with and yet, somehow, they knew they couldn't commit to a man like him. Somehow, they knew what he was, who he really was.

It made him both angry and sad. With each new relationship, he held out hope that this one would be the right one. This one would see that he wasn't the broken man, the bad man he feared he was. They would see that he was worth loving, but apparently, as far as he could tell, there was nothing in him worth loving.

"Yeah, I should have known." Sighing deeply, Booth leaned back against his couch, lifted the bottle of beer he was holding and looked at it. Even though he'd drunk a lot at the Founding Fathers, he wasn't as drunk as he thought he should be. He'd taken a cab home at the insistence of his partner, leaving her behind at the bar. "This isn't the answer, but what the hell, I wasn't looking for an answer anyway. I know what the answer is . . . No one wants what I'm offering and I'm always going to be alone."

Drinking the bottle empty, he placed it on the coffee table, laid back on the couch, grabbed the blanket draped on the back and covered himself. Closing his eyes, once more he saw the look on Hannah's face. The shock, the denial, the sadness. It had matched his own. "I thought I loved you, Hannah. Maybe I was trying too hard." He dismissed that thought and tried to sleep. Even though his heart had been crushed, he still had a life to live, a job to do obligations that didn't go away simply because his life was shit. Life didn't care if you were happy or not. Life didn't care if you were lonely, it expected you to keep moving. Opening his eyes, he stared at the window across from the couch. "I'm done. No one wants me and I'm done looking."

Oooooooooooooooooo

Concerned, she'd watched him drive away in the taxi. Her partner had wanted to drive home, but Brennan had feared he was drunker than he looked and she'd convinced him to get a taxi instead. Confused about the situation, she had hailed another cab once Booth was out of sight and had allowed the cab driver to take her home. Though she had drunk several shots of Scotch at the bar, she felt completely sober now. Moving into her bedroom, she removed her coat and draped it on the back of the chair near her closet. Restless, she wandered back into the living room and over to the balcony. Once she was there, she leaned on the railing and looked upward at the dark sky. Because of the light pollution caused by the streetlights below and the surrounding buildings, she couldn't see any stars and for once it irritated her. Sighing she left the balcony, walked back into the living room and stared at her little plastic pig sitting on the bookshelf next to a Greek vase she had purchased in Athens, many years ago.

She'd been at a low ebb on the day she became the owner of Jasper. She'd killed Gil Lappin that evening to save Booth's life and as her partner often reminded her, shooting someone came with a cost. Booth had paid that price many times when he was in the Army and on that particular day, she'd found out exactly what that cost was. Her partner had found her in the break room, sipping water and being the man that he was, Booth had given her a silly present to divert her attention from what she had done. "Meet Jasper . . . You're going to be okay." And after a while, she was. She never forgot what she had done, but she let the memory fade a little as all memories do.

Now her partner was in emotional pain and she didn't know what to do about it. He wanted to continue his partnership with her, he'd said so, but he was a very unhappy man. Brennan knew it might be a while before her partner would recover, but she had nothing but time. She wasn't going anywhere and eventually he might recognize that he wasn't alone. She knew that was what Booth feared the most, being alone and no one caring whether he lived or died.

"I care."

She had been surprised when she'd found out that Booth had asked Hannah to marry him. She had heard Hannah say to him that she would never marry anyone, but Booth being Booth, he had probably hoped she would change her mind. She hadn't and now her partner's heart was crushed.

"I should have set aside my reservations when he'd asked me to take a chance on a relationship with him . . . no, I couldn't at the time. I was too afraid he would finally see me. He would finally learn who I am and that would make him leave me." She laughed. The situation wasn't funny, but she laughed anyway.

"I left him." That had been a strange turn of events. She had been so afraid that someday she would fail to save Booth and he would die. She had let that fear eat away at her confidence and amazingly, she had left him to go on a year long dig in Maluku. "I don't understand why I did that . . . I have thought of various logical reasons why I felt it was okay to walk away from him, but none of those reasons . . . I don't understand why I did that . . . unless." Sighing, she walked over to where Jasper was, lifted him from the shelf and held the toy in her hands. Staring at the plastic pig, she gave it a watery smile, tears escaping her eye lashes. "I was afraid . . . I'm still afraid, but . . . if I am given another chance, I will not turn him down again . . . if he's still interested."

Ooooooooooooooo

Though Booth had hoped for a quiet day in his office, a case had come up and he'd been forced to deal with it. The fact that a wedding planner had been killed and he had to solve her murder on Valentine's Day seemed to be a little too on the nose for Booth. Fate was kicking him while he was down.

Annoyed with everyone he met, angry that he had to put up with their happiness when he had nothing to be happy about, Booth was surly and rude to almost everyone he worked with. He knew it was wrong, but at that moment he didn't care.

Though he had been rude to Brennan the evening before, she had shown up to work with him on the case and he was grateful. He hadn't meant to take his disappointment out on Brennan, but she was part of his problem and he'd lashed out at her. She had listened to him and his demands and surprisingly she had agreed to continue to be his partner. Why she had allowed him to be so rude to her puzzled him, but he never really understood his partner and what made her tick. The fact that she had drank with him, listened to him ramble on about Hannah and his failures in love and hadn't offered advice or empty platitudes meant a lot to him. She hadn't judged him and he appreciated that their friendship was strong enough to withstand his ugly moods.

It was an unusual friendship and one he valued a lot. He knew he should find a way to tell her that, but not on Valentine's Day. It would seem insincere and he wanted her to take him seriously.

Oooooooooooooooooo

Though Brennan didn't usually pay attention to the moods of her friends when she was at crime scenes, she did notice the excessive happiness of everyone but her partner. As far as she was concerned, Valentine's Day was a frivolous holiday that seemed to force people in relationships to buy candy and flowers to put their commitment on display. To her, if you were committed to your partner in a romantic relationship, then celebrating your relationship with the public was unnecessary. As far as she could tell, it was just a form of bragging. It also dawned upon her that if you weren't in a relationship then the holiday emphasized that and it made you feel isolated. It didn't help her partner's mood at all. She didn't mind being lonely, but she knew he did.

Not sure what to do with Booth's unhappiness, she decided to ignore his rudeness and work the case. She knew eventually the day would end and so would her partner's attitude, at least she hoped so. Hannah had crushed his heart and there was nothing she could do about that. Hannah was the past and it was up to Booth to move on.

Oooooooooooooooo

Booth had listened to Brennan receiving calls all day from would be suitors and it annoyed him that those men were so disrespectful. He knew her male friends were feeling the pressure of not being with anyone on a day geared towards romance and they assumed she'd agree to be with them because she was alone too. He had heard her say no to their requests for dates all day and found it to be satisfying. Brennan knew her self-worth and she didn't fear being alone. He wished he didn't fear being alone, but that was his weakness, not hers.

Of course, she really wasn't alone. She was with him, solving a case and agreeing with him that made up holidays were ridiculous and nothing to take seriously. He could see why she had told those guys no. She didn't need flowers or candy to prove anything. She was the real deal and there was nothing fake about her. She had decided to be with him and work on their case and for some reason, he found that very satisfying. They weren't in a personal relationship and probably never would be but she was his friend and, in a few days, he would find a way to apologize to her for being so rude to her. He was just grateful she hadn't called his drunken bluff and ended their partnership. That had been a very stupid thing to do and he'd never do it again. Taking out his anger on Brennan was a risky proposition and one he could easily lose.

ooooooooooooooo

The day had passed, the murderer of Wendy Bovitz had been found and confronted, Valentine's Day had ended with Booth and Brennan at the firing range shooting paper hearts and when Booth got home, his son called him to wish him a happy Valentine's Day.

Will you be my Valentine, Dad? It doesn't have to be a girl. Mom said I'm her Valentine and she's mine, but I want you to be my Valentine too. Is that okay?

"Of course it is, Parker. I love you, Buddy." Tears in his eyes, Booth wiped his lashes with his hand. "I will always love you no matter what."

Thanks. I gave Tammy a Valentine's Day card and she said it was cute. She's my friend. She only got two Valentine's Day cards from the class, but she's new and I'm really the only friend she has. She wears a hearing aid and some of the kids are mean to her sometimes. I don't think that's right.

"No, you're right. That's not fair to her. I think you being her friend is great, Parker. I'm sure she appreciates it."

Yeah, she didn't give me a Valentine's Day card, but I don't think she thought anyone was going to give one to her. It's okay though. I don't need a card to prove I'm her friend. I know I am.

Booth appreciated how fierce his son sounded. The boy had a good heart and Booth was proud of him. "Happy Valentine's Day, Parker. I mailed you a card, but it looks like you didn't get it yet."

That's okay. I guess you didn't get mine either. Stupid post office . . . Oh, I got to go, Dad. Mom says I have to finish my homework. I love you.

"I love you, Buddy."

The call ended, Booth wiped his cheeks with the sleeve of his shirt. Sniffing, he shook his head and smiled. "Leave it to my boy to make me feel better. He always does."

Ooooooooooooooo

"Bones, sometimes I don't have the sense God gave an ant." Booth sipped some of his coffee and placed the cup down on the table. "I . . . I threw the ring away I was going to give Hannah. That was so stupid . . . I was mad and I just . . . wasted a lot of money."

It sounded like a reckless thing to do, but Brennan understood that Booth had been quite angry when Hannah turned him down. "We all do things that we regret. My mother used to remind me of that fact when I did something I regretted. Mom said humans can be too emotional for our own good."

"Yeah . . . still, that ring cost me . . . well, it doesn't really matter. I couldn't return it back to the jeweler and it's not like I could give it to someone else . . . I could have sold it to a pawn shop and got some of my money back." Shaking his head, Booth sighed. "Bones, I'm sorry I was mean to you at the Founding Fathers. I was drunk and angry and I just lost my cool. I shouldn't have taken that out on you. You didn't didn't do anything wrong and you didn't deserve that. I'm sorry."

Surprised, Brennan nodded her head. "Your apology is accepted . . . I knew you were unhappy. I didn't really mind. Partners back each other up and ignore them when they are being rude."

Blunt and to the point, Booth appreciated his partner's viewpoint. "I was rude and I do apologize. I'm glad you didn't call my bluff. I had an empty hand."

Certain Booth was using a gambling analogy, Brennan decided she didn't really need to know what he meant. She thought she got the gist of his meaning. "I didn't see anything wrong with your new rules about our partnership. They seemed fairly similar to our old rules." Shrugging her shoulders, Brennan sipped some of her iced tea. "We all do and say things we shouldn't do. Of course, I try not to do regrettable things, but even I make mistakes sometimes."

Embarrassed that he had been in such a nasty mood the other evening, Booth reached over and placed his hand over her hand. "I would have never got you a new FBI guy, Just so you know that . . . Yeah, I remember telling you that if you didn't drink with me, I'd get you a new partner, but I was just bullshitting you. You could have gone home and it wouldn't have mattered. You're my partner and no way I was going to get you a new one just because I was drunk and angry. Again, I apologize."

Brennan didn't want Booth to dwell on what he had said at the Founding Fathers. Truthfully, she was surprised he remembered what he'd said. He'd drank a lot of Scotch that night. "Again, I forgive you."

"I won't walk away from you, Bones." He wanted to make sure she understood that. "I made you a promise a long time ago and I meant it. I'm your friend, your partner and I am someone you can count on. No matter what bullshit I'm going through, I won't forget that promise. You just have to remember that sometimes I just get angry and well . . . I can be a jerk and I know it's not right, but I will try to apologize when I calm down. It's just who I am."

Turning her hand over, she grasped her partner's hand. "You're not alone, Booth. Hank and Parker love you and I . . . well, I like you a lot and I consider you my best friend . . . you and Angela. You do understand that don't you? You're not alone."

Grateful to have a friend like Brennan, Booth smiled. "I know I'm not. Even if I never find someone to commit to me in a relationship, I know that you're there . . . being my friend. Just remember that you're my friend too. It's mutual and when you're angry, you can blow off some steam too. It's okay . . . Now, how about we go to the movies? My treat."

"Of course, that sounds like fun." Brennan watched Booth pull out his wallet and lay some money on the table. "You pay for the drinks and ice cream and I will pay for the movie tickets."

"You got it, Bones."

Oooooooooooooooooo

Let me know what you think of my story. It's the only way I can tell if you're still interested in reading Bones stories.

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