Title: Behind "Something"
Summary: Post-ep, or shall we say, During-ep for "Man in the Morgue." Just a little insight as to what was going on. And a little, sentence-long, carry-on as to what we all know, SHOULD have happened at the end of the episode. You know... cheesy stuff fit for chick flicks.
Spoilers: Man in the Morgue.
Rating: Umm…G? Yeah, G, or K…or whatever.
Pairing: Who're we kidding here…B/B, hands down.
A/N: Nothing special really. Just a little ditty that I've been turning over. Oneshot.
She didn't know why she'd called him, she just did. She could have called Angela. But she'd called him, and only a little part of her was regretting it. She didn't regret hearing his voice calming her down and comforting her. She didn't regret hearing him concerned; hearing him repeat her name, at first forceful, wanting, begging her to answer him when he'd seen her name on his caller ID, then soft and anxious when he'd heard the pain and confusion in her words as she'd answered him. If pressed, she'd say that she didn't regret his determination as she'd told him again and again not to come down to her and his, "Fine, I won't," that told her that he would anyway. She would have smiled if she hadn't have hurt so badly. But there was just a little something in her that regretted it. The little part of her that didn't want to face what she knew she'd have to face sooner or later.
She felt only a little embarrassed when he'd barged into the exam room like that. She tried to ignore the little skip that her heart did as she sighed out, "Booth, I told you not to come." But a little part of her had been grinning broadly, relieved that he hadn't listen to her.
She barely even heard the detective's teasing as she studied him. She'd barely heard because all she could hear was his voice, the slight panic that laced through his words. She'd barely heard because all she could hear was the blood rushing through her ears as her heart had pounded. But then, she shut her feelings down, like all the other times, and had tried to focus on the here and now of what was happening to her.
When his finger came up to her chin to turn her head to look at him, she let her feelings try to fight through, for just a second. She let her eyes flutter shut as he gently caressed her bruise that decorated her cheek, trying not to wince in pain. But only for a second did she relish what he was doing because her eyes had snapped open when the little voice that sounded so much like Angela had made itself known in her mind, telling her that she wished Booth would caress her cheek when it wasn't bruised, when other things could follow. And then, because she didn't know what else to do, she pushed his hand away from her face and ordered both him and the doctor out of the small room so that she could put her clothes back on and try to reclaim her brain for herself.
She was scared at Graham's house, but she'd never admit that. She was scared because a part of her had known what had happened there. She wanted to cry when she saw Graham's body the way it was, but she knew that she couldn't let the tears flow. This was her job calling to her now and she needed to work. She didn't know why Booth was been so insistent on leaving, the way his hands kept finding her body, trying to lead her away, but she wanted to leave. She felt Booth bend down she stepped forward to look at what the detective was looking at, and she wondered why, but only briefly. And, though she didn't want to seem like she was running from somewhere she might be needed, she would freely admit, should anyone ask, that she was glad when Booth's fingertips once again grazed against her arm and led her away.
She was exhausted when he took her back to her hotel, but she was more than glad that he insisted on staying. She heard him say clearly that he'd bet his professional career on her innocence, but she almost missed his words, "I already did," when his voice dropped and he turned away from her.
Her head snapped back in his direction as she barked out a harsh, "What?" Harsher than she'd planned, but she wanted to know what he'd meant. She was slightly taken aback by his just as harsh, "Nothing," but she pressed harder demanding from him, "What did you do?"
But he didn't answer. And somehow she knew that he wouldn't. Before she'd even asked she knew she would have to find out what he'd meant on her own.
Then, at the restaurant, she let her feelings break through completely, if only just for a minute or two. They broke through without her permission, but she didn't really try to hide them this time. She smiled as she tasted his words, turning them over and over, savoring. "You're a surprising woman. Sometimes that's enough for getting away." She didn't ignore the skip in her heart this time.
Why do you love me? "Why are you nice to me?" She listened to his response with half her brain while the other half did a poorly improvised victory dance. She analyzed the hidden meaning in his words in a way that could have written a master's thesis on the subject. "I couldn't do that without you, Booth." She saw the flash in his eyes as she said those words, but it was a flash of something her analysis couldn't quite define.
"Yeah, so maybe you should be a little nicer to me." His voice was teasing, but he seemed to be begging her for something. Maybe you should let yourself feel a little more. I know it's in you.
"Yeah…I should." She was saddened by the fact that she wasn't already. She was saddened even more that she constantly wanted to shy away from this type of conversation. She nearly jumped out of her skin when her lawyer's voice broke interrupted the two of them.
Her eyes burned holes in his soul as she stared at him, letting her feelings have reign for just a few more minutes. She was flattered and amazed at his devotion to her as he said again and again to anyone who would listen that she didn't do it. She wondered why she didn't let herself feel more often.
Then she'd turned her attention back to the conversation at hand and let her brain take back over.
But back at the lab, as she sat with her "people," comforted by their company, she felt the creeping sense as her emotion snuck its way back into her thought processes. It seemed to be guided by Booth's presence, his eyes probing hers, his smug grin begging her to come out of her shell, the indescribable expression he carried as he let the single earring dangle from his fingers.
She asked him where he'd gotten it. Her brain seemed to be overloading, trying to analyze possible places where he could've found it. It wasn't the one she already had, that was in her pocket. It wasn't a new one; no one could make one of those unless they had enough money growing on trees to get one custom made. Those earrings were one of a kind. It wasn't—her brain quit right then and there. Unless you count the memory it pushed at her just before it shut down: Booth's quiet words of, "I'd bet my professional career on it. I already did."
She stared at the jewelry now resting in her hand and had murmured, "My mother's earring." Then she'd looked up to see him leaving and her heart ached. He'd removed evidence from a crime scene. Evidence that could have put her behind bars forever. She was overwhelmed by an emotion that she couldn't readily recognize. She was drowning at the meaning of such a gesture.
"No, ah…magical power over your future," he'd said as he'd given her that grin while walking out of the room.
YES! Yes, it does have powers over my future. Come back! Every part of her screamed out to him. Except her voice.
Angela seemed to sense something. She saw the feelings that contorted her friend's face and knew there was something behind this earring. Something deeper that even she couldn't begin to define, no matter how many Cosmo magazines she read or movies she watched; no matter how big her life was. "Does that prove something?" she asked her friend, probing for answers as to what was happening before her eyes.
"Yeah…" her friend had replied, softly, gently, her eyes studying the dangling earring in her fingers, her mind somewhere far away. "It proves something."
Even Jack didn't miss the smile that crept onto her face and not even Zach had the heart to call out to her as she jumped out of her chair and bolted for the hallway. After Booth, after "something." Angela just shook her head and smiled.