Not mine, never will be. Someone should put that to music; it's an oft used jingle.
Booth knocked on the door. Despite the late hour, he knew she'd be awake; she was the only other insomniac he knew.
"Hey, Booth." She opened the door, let him and the chinese food he held in. Her hair was pulled back, a pencil used to hold it in place. Wisps jutted out, making her look younger.
"Hey." He couldn't hear the jazz music she usually had on, but there was a sound he knew too well.
"Bones, is that…" He dropped the box of chinese on the table in the living room as Brennan retrieved cutlery from her drawer; a fork for him, chopsticks for her.
"I just got that channel put on. They play sports reruns I think… The guy on the phone told me there was a lot of basketball being replayed at the moment so I got it." She handed him the fork and started looking through the selection, oblivious to Booth, who was still amazed at the size of the screen and the fact that there was actually a television in his partner's lounge room. And not just a television, but a four foot wide hi-def television with the kind of clarity that made the player's sweat stains almost sniffable.
"No, I mean it's a tv!" Bones finally found the chicken dish and settled back in the chair, her feet propped on the table.
"I know, Booth." She looked blank as her chopsticks dove for chicken amongst the vegetables.
"You don't have a tv." She shot a look to the wall, then back to him, an eyebrow raised.
"It's right there. On the wall. We're watching it." Both shook his head and backtracked.
"I mean you have a tv. In the last two years, you've never had a tv. But suddenly one appears on your wall which could rival Ben Hur."
"I don't-." Before she could finish, he cut her off and explained the pop culture reference.
"He's just big, okay? A big guy. But why the sudden need for a tv. And basketball." Brennan looked back to the tv and half shrugged, her chopsticks ceasing movement.
"It was Sully's." Booth heard the sadness in her voice and kicked himself for ever having shot the clown. He was the reason they'd met in the first place. It was all Sully after that; Sully's fault they'd started dating. Sully's fault she'd knocked the wind out of Booth when she'd told him she might be sailing away into the distance. And Sully's fault that she sounded sad now.
"He said I could have it; he won't need it on the boat." She appeared absorbed in the basketball and her meal both, but Booth could tell from her profile that she was thinking about Sully. He'd only sailed away a week ago.
"Have you heard from him?" Booth asked carefully. He already had a subject change in mind in case she hadn't.
"He's been calling." She switched the chicken for a sesame seed stir fry. Booth waited for more, but it appeared none was forthcoming. The blue team was fouled and Bones nodded in appreciation of the ref's call.
"And…" Booth felt like he was pulling teeth sometimes. Bones finally sighed, turned to him.
"It's not the same anymore. He's sailing away under blue skies and I'm… here."
"Hey…" Booth touched her chin with a finger to draw her eyes back to him. They'd darted to the tv screen as fans cheered the third successful three pointer.
"You wanted to stay. And Sully wanted to leave. He's probably sea sick and cold while you've got warmth, chinese food and great company." He wanted to see a smile, and he was triumphant.
"Sully doesn't get sea sick." But the small curve of her mouth told him she got the point.
He wanted to ask her why she hadn't sailed away. Why she'd stayed behind; if it was for the chinese food or the great company. But her eyes were back on the television, following the players as they ran back and forth, dribbling the ball between them with unconcealed ease. He wouldn't interrupt her steps into normalcy and, since she had stayed, there'd be more nights of this.
"Are you finished with the stir fry?" Booth asked. She handed it over and for a moment their fingers lingered before her hand slid away.
"Don't eat all the pork out of it," she instructed him. Booth saluted and she elbowed him in the ribs as she reached for the fried rice.
"Foul!" Booth called, and for a moment he had earned himself a full blown smile from her. Then the fans cheered again and she was intently studying the screen again, watching for the referee's mistakes. Booth sank back into the lounge beside her and stretched his legs out, surpassing hers. Her shoulder touched his, rested as she settled. Trying to find all the pieces of pork before he handed the stir fry back, Booth smiled. Not for the first time, he thanked whatever it was that kept Bones from the blue skies Sully sailed under.
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Sap. Fluff. Not even fabulous fluff. But none of my other fics were being cooperative. Please click the button. No, not the one with the x…