New chapter: Hairline Fractures
Title: Hairline Fractures 7
Disclaimer: Bones belongs to Fox, Hanson and Reichs
Rating: NC-17
oOoOoOo
"So, anything you'd like to talk about? Anything new since our last meeting?" Sweets asks as he leans back into his chair.
Brennan glances at Booth noting the minute widening of his eyes as he glances back. They have agreed not to tell Sweets about them. Not yet. "No way, no how! I don't want that twelve-year-old sticking his nose where it doesn't belong" were Booth's exact words.
"No," they reply in unison.
"Look, guys, you ganging up on me isn't constructive."
"Ganging up?" Booth questions leaning forward.
"You're in agreement. You don't tend to agree unless you feel threatened by someone outside your unit."
"Our unit? Do you sit at home at night and come up with things like that?"
"Stop deflecting, Agent Booth. Obviously something is going on, but until you're ready to trust me and share we won't make any progress."
"Why should we trust you?" Brennan asks.
"Dr Brennan, I know you find it difficult to trust others but if you'd..."
"This has nothing to do with me, Sweets. I'm not the one who insinuated myself into the Gormogon case for my own professional advancement. I'm not the one using patients get published. I'm not the one experimenting by withholding ...” she stops herself.
"You were saying?" Sweets encourages.
Brennan glances over at Booth. "It doesn't matter."
"Remember what I said when we first started out, about our meetings being a truth zone? That you can share whatever you want in the zone of truth?"
"Yeah, Bones, what is wonderboy here withholding?"
"Don't, Booth. I said it doesn't matter."
Booth's hand shoots out and covers Brennan's both resting in her lap as he leans in. "I think it does. What is it he's not telling us, Bones?" She finds it unsettling, the way he can upset her balance by simply looking at her.
"Nobody is going to judge you for what you share in here, Dr Brennan."
Brennan shifts her gaze from Booth to Sweets. This must be what it feels like to be an actor, she thinks. Holding people captive without any means of restraint. Still, breaths bated, silently awaiting your next words.
"Sweets let me believe you were dead so he could observe my reaction. He let me mourn you for two weeks so he'd have more material for his book." Brennan's voice is calm and she does not take her eyes off the psychologist. Not when she feels her partner tense, not when she moves to grasp his hand between hers to force him to stay put. She continues to stare Sweets down even though she is addressing Booth. "Don't Booth. He's not worth it."
"I know you don't believe in psychology, Dr Brennan, but if I could explain why I chose to..."
"Save it, Sweets," Booth interrupts and Sweets gets a glimpse of a Booth he has never seen before. The one that the agent hides beneath jokes and sarcasm. For a second the Booth that wears crazy socks disappears and the Booth that used to remain still for hours waiting for his prey surfaces.
"If I hadn't been busy adjusting to life without Booth and working on my own again I might have noticed that something was wrong with Zack."
"You can't take on the responsibility for what happened with Zack. You mustn't blame yourself. You're not trained in observing human behavior, Dr Brennan."
"But you are, Sweets. You came to the lab. You stood next to Zack, you talked to him and still you didn't notice anything. What use was your psychology then? I blame you too." Brennan stands up abruptly. "Are you coming, Booth?"
Booth turns around in the door and keeps his voice low enough not to carry to Brennan who is heading to the elevator.
"If it were up to me the only part of you in this office would be your fingertips, the rest of you would be dangling from the windowsill."
oOoOoOo
She wakes up to the wind smattering the rain against the window panes. There are so many nights she woke up to the rain without him. She wonders if from now on night and rain will remind her of him in the bed next to her on this night or all those previous nights.
"You didn't think it was strange that Sweets never brought up my so called death in therapy. You knew why he didn't." Booth's voice is barely above a whisper.
"I knew."
"You should go back to sleep."
"So should you."
Brennan sometimes wakes up to find Booth's side of the bed empty. He is always quiet. She thinks it is the bed shifting as he gets up that wakes her. More often than not she will let him be, drifting in and out of sleep as she waits for him to return to bed. The first time it happened she thought he had left and stumbled up wiping sleep from her face only to find him sitting on her couch.
He goes to that faraway place she only knows through the things he has told her. The things he has chosen to tell her. If she did not have one of those places in her mind too she might have been hurt. Might not have understood. Booth knows about the girl with the shoes and the garbage bag. Sometimes he asks her, but most of the time he will just listen when she decides to tell him about her. On the nights she gets up to sit next to him they trade secrets.
Next to him on her couch she learns about him waiting for his father to return home from the local bar. In his dark kitchen he tells her about waiting for his targets to appear. She tells him about the bookmark remaining in her worn copy of The Lord of the Rings since the last Sunday afternoon with her mother. How she really was a bit too old to be read to. Jagged pieces from the past with sharp edges that still have the ability to cut.
They do not go back to sleep. Between Angela's comments and encouragement since Booth first walked through the doors of the Jeffersonian, Booth's post-case speech about making love and her firm belief in sex as a means to promote physical wellbeing through the release of endorphins she forgot all about closeness. About intimacy.
After the first time, their first time, she wondered how it was that when they had waited so long they barely made it to the bedroom. Maybe it was because of that? The times they barely make it through the front door before having each other against the nearest wall or the lazy weekend mornings in bed when they push the breakfast things and papers aside for each other do not surprise her the way these quiet times do. The goodnight kisses that grow. The soft sighs and whispers of the sheets following nocturnal talks.
Booth lets his tip glide into her and starts pumping his hips in shallow movements.
"What are you doing?"
"I read that the opening of the vagina is very sensitive."
Brennan laughs.
"You're laughing at me, Bones?"
"You know I laugh during sex. I told you that even before we started sleeping together."
They both remember London and being in that tiny car.
"Yeah, you might want to avoid it when a guy's about to... you know."
"Penetrate me?"
"You're such a romantic, Bones."
Brennan palms Booth's face. "I laughed because you sounded just like me," she whispers against his lips.
Their kiss deepens as he pushes further into her. At her gasp he stills.
"Did I hurt you? We can take it from here."
"No, Booth, I want all of you. I always did."
When they are resting hip against hip Booth stills to let Brennan's body adjust.
"Hi," he smiles and strokes her hair off her forehead.
"I love the feeling of you inside me like this." Brennan does not sprinkle "I love yous" in conversations. She does not understand the habit of ending every phone call with it. She does not want it to turn into a reflex.
"I love you too, Bones."
oOoOoOo
The call comes at a time reserved for drunkenly dialed wrong numbers and bad news.
Angela is already there when they arrive. She repeats the words of the hospital staff, how they have to wait and see. Brennan demands to see a doctor. She is white coat, rushed and talks of pills saved up and taken all at the same time. The wait and see is repeated.
They wait by a row of chairs surrounded by the sounds of the life that moves on around what has happened.
"Why didn't they notice? Don't the staff in that place have proper training? Their routines need to be revised!"
"Bones, it's Zack. He's a genius. He'd able to find a way around the routines at Langley."
"It shouldn't have happened!" Brennan looks to Booth and Angela. "It's supposed to be a secure facility."
"Secure as in keeping the people in there from escaping, Bones."
"Sweetie, they're hopeful."
It is not enough. Brennan backs away. "No, this should not have happened," she repeats shaking her head.
Booth follows as if they were dancing. His forehead resting against hers, his hand against the nape of her neck gently stroking her hair. "You heard Angela, they're hopeful, focus on that."
Angela recognizes the touch of a lover, different from that of a friend. Notes the familiarity with which their fingers intertwine when the white coat reappears.
Brennan is allowed a few minutes with Zack. He has faint traces of charcoal around his mouth. She wants to ask him why he did it, but he does not look up to a conversation like that.
"You had us all worried," she says instead and strokes his arm. Please don't try and kill yourself again becomes "Would you please be there the next time I visit?"
Not ready to face the questions from the others yet she ducks into the bathroom. A flash of curly hair before the door closes behind her tells her that Hodgins has arrived too.
Booth catches Angela's arm. "Give her a few minutes."
"She's upset. I'm her friend."
"I know. I also know she needs some space right now."
Angela sinks back on the plastic chair with a sigh. "So you and Brennan, huh?"
"Yes."
"About time, dude!" Hodgins breaks in and slaps him on the shoulder. Normally Booth would tell him to shut up, but tonight he does not. Jack's face is pale and drawn. He has been at the edge of his seat since he turned up. Hodgins and Zack were lab partners in a way, bonding over bugs and messy experiments. Booth guesses that is the squint version of the loyalty you develop toward your team mates on the ice.
"She's had five minutes." Angela stands up. Booth does too.
"She's in the ladies' bathroom so I get to check on her. Don't worry, I won't press her for any x-rated details about you two. Not tonight," she tries to smile.
"That's big of you, Angela." Booth does his best to return her smile, but it is more of a tired grimace.
"Keep an eye on Jack for me?"
Booth does not comment on Hodgins' shaky breaths or how he keeps brushing at his eyes. Silently he goes to lean against the wall next to Hodgins' chair and puts a hand on his shoulder while they wait.
oOoOoOo
End Chapter 7
Disclaimer: Bones belongs to Fox, Hanson and Reichs
Rating: NC-17
oOoOoOo
"So, anything you'd like to talk about? Anything new since our last meeting?" Sweets asks as he leans back into his chair.
Brennan glances at Booth noting the minute widening of his eyes as he glances back. They have agreed not to tell Sweets about them. Not yet. "No way, no how! I don't want that twelve-year-old sticking his nose where it doesn't belong" were Booth's exact words.
"No," they reply in unison.
"Look, guys, you ganging up on me isn't constructive."
"Ganging up?" Booth questions leaning forward.
"You're in agreement. You don't tend to agree unless you feel threatened by someone outside your unit."
"Our unit? Do you sit at home at night and come up with things like that?"
"Stop deflecting, Agent Booth. Obviously something is going on, but until you're ready to trust me and share we won't make any progress."
"Why should we trust you?" Brennan asks.
"Dr Brennan, I know you find it difficult to trust others but if you'd..."
"This has nothing to do with me, Sweets. I'm not the one who insinuated myself into the Gormogon case for my own professional advancement. I'm not the one using patients get published. I'm not the one experimenting by withholding ...” she stops herself.
"You were saying?" Sweets encourages.
Brennan glances over at Booth. "It doesn't matter."
"Remember what I said when we first started out, about our meetings being a truth zone? That you can share whatever you want in the zone of truth?"
"Yeah, Bones, what is wonderboy here withholding?"
"Don't, Booth. I said it doesn't matter."
Booth's hand shoots out and covers Brennan's both resting in her lap as he leans in. "I think it does. What is it he's not telling us, Bones?" She finds it unsettling, the way he can upset her balance by simply looking at her.
"Nobody is going to judge you for what you share in here, Dr Brennan."
Brennan shifts her gaze from Booth to Sweets. This must be what it feels like to be an actor, she thinks. Holding people captive without any means of restraint. Still, breaths bated, silently awaiting your next words.
"Sweets let me believe you were dead so he could observe my reaction. He let me mourn you for two weeks so he'd have more material for his book." Brennan's voice is calm and she does not take her eyes off the psychologist. Not when she feels her partner tense, not when she moves to grasp his hand between hers to force him to stay put. She continues to stare Sweets down even though she is addressing Booth. "Don't Booth. He's not worth it."
"I know you don't believe in psychology, Dr Brennan, but if I could explain why I chose to..."
"Save it, Sweets," Booth interrupts and Sweets gets a glimpse of a Booth he has never seen before. The one that the agent hides beneath jokes and sarcasm. For a second the Booth that wears crazy socks disappears and the Booth that used to remain still for hours waiting for his prey surfaces.
"If I hadn't been busy adjusting to life without Booth and working on my own again I might have noticed that something was wrong with Zack."
"You can't take on the responsibility for what happened with Zack. You mustn't blame yourself. You're not trained in observing human behavior, Dr Brennan."
"But you are, Sweets. You came to the lab. You stood next to Zack, you talked to him and still you didn't notice anything. What use was your psychology then? I blame you too." Brennan stands up abruptly. "Are you coming, Booth?"
Booth turns around in the door and keeps his voice low enough not to carry to Brennan who is heading to the elevator.
"If it were up to me the only part of you in this office would be your fingertips, the rest of you would be dangling from the windowsill."
oOoOoOo
She wakes up to the wind smattering the rain against the window panes. There are so many nights she woke up to the rain without him. She wonders if from now on night and rain will remind her of him in the bed next to her on this night or all those previous nights.
"You didn't think it was strange that Sweets never brought up my so called death in therapy. You knew why he didn't." Booth's voice is barely above a whisper.
"I knew."
"You should go back to sleep."
"So should you."
Brennan sometimes wakes up to find Booth's side of the bed empty. He is always quiet. She thinks it is the bed shifting as he gets up that wakes her. More often than not she will let him be, drifting in and out of sleep as she waits for him to return to bed. The first time it happened she thought he had left and stumbled up wiping sleep from her face only to find him sitting on her couch.
He goes to that faraway place she only knows through the things he has told her. The things he has chosen to tell her. If she did not have one of those places in her mind too she might have been hurt. Might not have understood. Booth knows about the girl with the shoes and the garbage bag. Sometimes he asks her, but most of the time he will just listen when she decides to tell him about her. On the nights she gets up to sit next to him they trade secrets.
Next to him on her couch she learns about him waiting for his father to return home from the local bar. In his dark kitchen he tells her about waiting for his targets to appear. She tells him about the bookmark remaining in her worn copy of The Lord of the Rings since the last Sunday afternoon with her mother. How she really was a bit too old to be read to. Jagged pieces from the past with sharp edges that still have the ability to cut.
They do not go back to sleep. Between Angela's comments and encouragement since Booth first walked through the doors of the Jeffersonian, Booth's post-case speech about making love and her firm belief in sex as a means to promote physical wellbeing through the release of endorphins she forgot all about closeness. About intimacy.
After the first time, their first time, she wondered how it was that when they had waited so long they barely made it to the bedroom. Maybe it was because of that? The times they barely make it through the front door before having each other against the nearest wall or the lazy weekend mornings in bed when they push the breakfast things and papers aside for each other do not surprise her the way these quiet times do. The goodnight kisses that grow. The soft sighs and whispers of the sheets following nocturnal talks.
Booth lets his tip glide into her and starts pumping his hips in shallow movements.
"What are you doing?"
"I read that the opening of the vagina is very sensitive."
Brennan laughs.
"You're laughing at me, Bones?"
"You know I laugh during sex. I told you that even before we started sleeping together."
They both remember London and being in that tiny car.
"Yeah, you might want to avoid it when a guy's about to... you know."
"Penetrate me?"
"You're such a romantic, Bones."
Brennan palms Booth's face. "I laughed because you sounded just like me," she whispers against his lips.
Their kiss deepens as he pushes further into her. At her gasp he stills.
"Did I hurt you? We can take it from here."
"No, Booth, I want all of you. I always did."
When they are resting hip against hip Booth stills to let Brennan's body adjust.
"Hi," he smiles and strokes her hair off her forehead.
"I love the feeling of you inside me like this." Brennan does not sprinkle "I love yous" in conversations. She does not understand the habit of ending every phone call with it. She does not want it to turn into a reflex.
"I love you too, Bones."
oOoOoOo
The call comes at a time reserved for drunkenly dialed wrong numbers and bad news.
Angela is already there when they arrive. She repeats the words of the hospital staff, how they have to wait and see. Brennan demands to see a doctor. She is white coat, rushed and talks of pills saved up and taken all at the same time. The wait and see is repeated.
They wait by a row of chairs surrounded by the sounds of the life that moves on around what has happened.
"Why didn't they notice? Don't the staff in that place have proper training? Their routines need to be revised!"
"Bones, it's Zack. He's a genius. He'd able to find a way around the routines at Langley."
"It shouldn't have happened!" Brennan looks to Booth and Angela. "It's supposed to be a secure facility."
"Secure as in keeping the people in there from escaping, Bones."
"Sweetie, they're hopeful."
It is not enough. Brennan backs away. "No, this should not have happened," she repeats shaking her head.
Booth follows as if they were dancing. His forehead resting against hers, his hand against the nape of her neck gently stroking her hair. "You heard Angela, they're hopeful, focus on that."
Angela recognizes the touch of a lover, different from that of a friend. Notes the familiarity with which their fingers intertwine when the white coat reappears.
Brennan is allowed a few minutes with Zack. He has faint traces of charcoal around his mouth. She wants to ask him why he did it, but he does not look up to a conversation like that.
"You had us all worried," she says instead and strokes his arm. Please don't try and kill yourself again becomes "Would you please be there the next time I visit?"
Not ready to face the questions from the others yet she ducks into the bathroom. A flash of curly hair before the door closes behind her tells her that Hodgins has arrived too.
Booth catches Angela's arm. "Give her a few minutes."
"She's upset. I'm her friend."
"I know. I also know she needs some space right now."
Angela sinks back on the plastic chair with a sigh. "So you and Brennan, huh?"
"Yes."
"About time, dude!" Hodgins breaks in and slaps him on the shoulder. Normally Booth would tell him to shut up, but tonight he does not. Jack's face is pale and drawn. He has been at the edge of his seat since he turned up. Hodgins and Zack were lab partners in a way, bonding over bugs and messy experiments. Booth guesses that is the squint version of the loyalty you develop toward your team mates on the ice.
"She's had five minutes." Angela stands up. Booth does too.
"She's in the ladies' bathroom so I get to check on her. Don't worry, I won't press her for any x-rated details about you two. Not tonight," she tries to smile.
"That's big of you, Angela." Booth does his best to return her smile, but it is more of a tired grimace.
"Keep an eye on Jack for me?"
Booth does not comment on Hodgins' shaky breaths or how he keeps brushing at his eyes. Silently he goes to lean against the wall next to Hodgins' chair and puts a hand on his shoulder while they wait.
oOoOoOo
End Chapter 7