*Disclaimer: I do not own Bones (sadly), these characters (double sadly), I do, however claim David Boreanaz in my mind forever and ever and will take on all like-minded fangirls in a fight to the death. Thanks for reading :)*

One Night to Heal What's Broken

He sat idly at the bar staring off into space. He was absently swirling scotch in his glass, his tie loose around his neck, the top button undone and the sleeves rolled up on his dress shirt. He looked like anyone else in the world trying to let go of a difficult day except for the bitter defeat in his eyes.

The woman who walked through the door was immediately drawn to him. She had to admit that the brooding expression on his face made him painfully attractive but normally she avoided obviously troubled men in favor of the simpler "good time" guys. Maybe it was the way his eyes looked in the smoky bar light that made her so driven to soothe. She made her way towards the bar, brushing off one particularly bold drunk who'd slurred an invitation to the storage closet.

She slid onto the stool beside him, crossing her long, jean-clad legs and propping her head on her ringless, elegant hand. She marveled at the depth of his depression when he didn't so much as blink in her direction.

'Must've been a hell of a day.'

She didn't want to startle him so when she spoke it was softly and with a hand on his arm.

"Hey, handsome."

He turned his head and blinked at her as if coming out of a dream.


"Bad day?"

He looked back at his glass and smiled bitterly before draining it. "You could say that."

The bartender came over for her order and she looked at the man beside her. "I'll take a Long Island Iced Tea and he'll take another scotch. On me." The bartender nodded and walked away. Her bar-mate was smiling again, a little softer this time.

"Are you trying to get me drunk?"

"If I thought that that would work I would've ordered you an Iced Tea as well."

He laughed softly.

"There's a smile. You look so much better when you smile."

His smile faded as quickly as it had come and he looked back down where his empty glass no longer was. She sighed and squeezed his arm. "Do you want to talk about it? I'm a good listener."

He looked at her and what she saw made her want to cry. The bitterness was replaced with genuine misery. He looked for a moment like a little boy, lost and alone.

"Talk to me."

He closed his eyes tightly to kept the gathering moisture in and put his hand over hers to squeeze, accepting the comfort of a simple touch. He remembered another time where he'd been offered the same comfort and wished he could go back to that day when he'd been, shockingly, less miserable then he was now.

"Is there something wrong with me," he asked sadly. "Is there a reason why I'm still alone?

"There is NOTHING wrong with you." She said it almost too harshly.

"Then why is the woman I love out with someone else tonight? And not just anyone else, like all other losers she's dated, but my BOSS. My BOSS who came to my office before going to pick her up and asking is she was as great in bed as everyone says. To ask me what she likes so that he could get on her good side. And what could I do? He's my boss so I can't slug him like I want to, so I say 'Daffodils.' Fucking daffodils." The sob caught on a laugh, as if he'd stepped into Wonderland where everything was backwards and twisted around.

The misery and the need that permeated his words broke her heart. "I understand," she said softly.

He laughed, miserably, again. "With all due respect, I don't think you do. You have no idea how impossible it is being in love with a woman who sees sex as a way to satisfy biological urges. And mocks people who believe in love and marriage and…and making babies from that love instead of making them because you feel selfish for keeping all of your intelligence to yourself."

He had stopped caring about the tears and let them flow. "Why do I love her? She mocks every belief I have. And I know she had it hard as a kid and maybe that was an excuse for her up to a point but her parents left to keep her safe, they didn't abandon her like some parents abandon their children because they're unloved. Her father didn't get drunk and beat her or her brother or her mother. She mocks my intelligence, which I let her do because I'm the heart and she's the brains and it seemed like a fair arrangement but I have a degree in Criminal Justice and another in History. I have a brain but I let her put me down so she can feel good. I'm a masochist."

"You love her," she said sadly, knowing that, in this case, an emotion normally meant to inspire joy and hope was crushing this strong, beautiful, caring man under its weight.

"I don't want to love her anymore," he said desperately. "I want it to stop. I NEED it to stop. I can't take it anymore. I'm starting to forget what being loved is like."

This sweet, heart-broken man hadn't been loved in too long, neither had she for that matter, and she was generally a selfish lover, but this one time she felt the need to soothe with more than a hug or a shoulder to cry on. She could offer and hope that he would accept her offer to heal the cracks in his heart. Because to see this man become another hollow shell, that spurned and unreturned love made of good and generous people, broke her heart.

She slipped her hand into his and stood. He looked at her, his heart and his confusion vivid in his eyes. "Come with me," she said gently, as one might say to a lost child.

Whether he wanted to or was simply very compliant in his state, she didn't know but he followed. She lived a few blocks away and they didn't speak as they walked. She led him up the stairs and to her door where he waited like an obedient puppy. She led him down the hall towards her room and that's where she felt him hesitate, as if realizing, finally, why she'd brought him here.

"I…I know what you're trying to do. But we…I…can't. We can't."

She moved to stand in front of him, taking his strong handsome face in her hands. Blind was the woman who could pass over this man and his love for a string of pitiful lovers who just wanted a quick fuck.

"Shh…Let me do this for you. Let me help you remember…"

She laid her lips on his softly, brushing back and forth, coaxing a reaction from him. She could feel his uncertainty and unwillingness to give in. She didn't mind the hesitation. She was sure his mind was a mess.

Maybe it was because he truly didn't want to love someone who would never love him back. Maybe it was because he hadn't been kissed in so long with such tenderness. Maybe it was because he hadn't felt any kind of stirring from another woman in almost two years. Or maybe it was because the low warmth this beautiful woman was offering was more comforting then the scorching, painful heat that burned him daily for the last five years.

Whatever it was, he felt his control melt under the gentle fire she lit and let himself respond.

She'd expected him to shatter and take her quickly, needing to hurry, to drown out the hurt and the other woman. But his hands were gentle sliding over her hips to her back to bring her snugly against him. He returned the kiss with heat but his mouth was soft, brushing lightly before going deeper, then light again, then deep.

She stepped backwards pulling him with her but he stopped her and lifted her up, her legs twining around lean hips, arms wrapping around his shoulders in a kind of hug.

He carried her to her room and laid her down on a forest green and golden brown comforter. Her room was filled with earthy tones with occasional splashes of color that should look out of his place but suited her perfectly somehow.

On one knee he leaned on the bed, pressing kisses over her face. They were butterfly soft but she felt her skin heat and her already drugged system slip farther and farther down the pleasurable slope. When she felt his hands slip under her shirt and stroke her bare skin she remembered that she had meant to heal him, not the other way around. She slid her hands under his shirt and dragged it up his back and over his head before tossing it off into the darkness of the room. She stopped when she looked down to observe his body.

And simultaneously cursed and blessed the woman who had looked elsewhere for release and had given her this opportunity.

He wasn't overly muscled, like some of the men she'd known who'd been obsessed with exercise and spent more time in front of the mirror then she did. His body also wasn't lacking in scars but his skin was golden and smooth, the muscles underneath firm. She had the raging impulse to flip him over and trace ever line of definition with her tongue and mouth until they were both driven insane. Instead she ran her hands up the curve of his bicep and over his shoulder, down his chest where his pectorals and abdominals rippled and quivered when grazed by her nails.

They hadn't spoken since that first kiss but she wasn't able to hold the words circling her brain in any longer.

"She's a fool."

He tensed, lips against the pulse in her throat, fingers nimbly working the buttons of her shirt. He leaned back and they looked at one another, the pain was back in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," she murmured. She stroked his slightly stubbly cheek. "I just think you need to know that. She's a fool. She has no idea what she could have with you. That's HER loss and HER problem."

He turned his face into her palm and she felt the tear brim over so she brushed it away.

"I shouldn't do this…I'm using you."

She turned his head to meet his eyes. "No," she said, "you can't use what's offered. I'm offering. And I'm not offering biological release. I'm offering an outlet for all the love you have but can't give to her. Give it to me. Pretend I'm her."

His eyes went wide with distress. "No. I can't. It's not right."

She laid a finger across his lips, stopping the stream of protests. "Shh…it's alright. It's for me too. I'd like to know what it's like to be her and be loved by someone like you. So, if anyone's using anyone, it's me."

He looked unsure, almost afraid, but she leaned up and took his mouth once more, a little harder this time, trying to drag him beyond reason. His grip tightened for a moment as if he'd push away but instead he sank into her and the warmth engulfed them.

After that their clothes just seemed to melt away. No inch of her skin was spared his talented mouth; no inch of his went untouched by her skilled hands. He drove her to gasping orgasm with his lips on her breasts and his fingers teasing her thighs. She pushed him perilously close to the edge with her fingers wrapped around what his discarded belt buckle had so proudly (and accurately) claimed.

'God, is this what it means to be so completely loved?' she wondered. To have another person so devoted to your own pleasure that they actually took their own pleasure in the giving. And she knew he was pleasured because she felt him throb against her leg with every moan he pulled from her. She felt him smile against her skin every time he made her whimper.

But she knew every time she caught a glimpse of his eyes, from that cloudy dark color, that he had been taken beyond this room and beyond her. She tried not to let it hurt.

He worshipped her body and mouthed words against her skin that she had trouble making out. Except one. One came through loud and clear as if he'd screamed it. Suddenly, desperately, she wanted to hear it. Wanted to hear him roar out his pleasure with the woman he thought she was.

She flipped him over and straddled him, slipping down his body until he brushed her and made them both gasp. She took him in her hand and held him at her entrance. His eyes were molten chocolate, drugged and heavy.

"Say it," she demanded.

His cloudy eyes cleared a bit, confused.

"Say her name. HER name."

He started to shake his head but she took about half an inch of him into her and he shut his eyes to moan.

"Say it," she pleaded. She'd beg next.

He opened his eyes, too far gone to fight for whatever was right.


She sank another half inch. "No. Call me what YOU call her."

His eyes were wide and blurry, helpless to the moment.


She sank all the way this time, taking him to the hilt and their groans filled the room.

"Again," she moaned.

"Bones." She began to rock back and forth.

"Please." Their hands were linked over his head.

"Bones!" He surged up into her with each thrust.

"Oh, God…" She could feel him swelling inside her.

"Bones…" He could feel her walls fluttering around him.

In the instant before they both shattered his mind cleared and he saw the woman above him. Saw her beautiful body and face and heart, offering herself to him as a surrogate for the one he fruitlessly loved. He threaded his fingers through her hair and pulled her mouth to his, surprising her.

And mouthed her name against her lips. Her real name.

They swallowed one another's screams of release as they fell over the edge and she lay sprawled over his chest.

"Thank you," he murmured against her shoulder.

She turned her head to meet eyes clear and satisfied and inches from her own. "I'd say 'anytime' but I don't think you'd take me up on it."

He stroked a hand lazily up and down her back. "It…probably wouldn't be a good idea."

She nodded, trying to hide the disappointment. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been so thoroughly loved. She started to pull away but he held her still. She looked back at him.

"Can I stay tonight?"

She looks at him in surprise. "Really?"

He smiles, a real smile this time. "Really."

"Ok..." She smiles tentatively and he pulls her to his side, her head coming to rest in the curve of his shoulder. He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head.

"Good night," she whispered, the absurdity of the moment not lost on her.

"Good night," he sighed. She felt him drift off into sleep almost immediately.

Just as she felt herself start to drift she heard the dull ring of her phone in the other room. Disentangling herself from his embrace she pulled a shirt off the floor. His, she realized when his comforting smell hit her.

She picked her phone up and immediately regretted not letting it just keep ringing.

"Hey…Sweetie. How…um…how as your date?"

"Very satisfactory. He's asleep now."

She couldn't help but tense listening to the undisguised pleasure in her friend's voice. And for the first time felt the twinge of disgust.

"Look. Sweetie. Can we talk about it tomorrow or something?"

"But…you're always trying to get me to talk about things like this." The confusion in her friend's voice was evident but she couldn't bring herself to care.

"I know, I'm sorry. I'm just…occupied at the moment."

"Ohhh. Well, that's good. I know you took Hodgins and Roxie hard, Ange, but it's about time you started getting back to your old self. Humans are not meant to be a monogamous species, you know."

Suddenly infuriated with her best friend, she let loose. "You know what, Brennan. I DON'T know. And you have no idea what you're talking about either. You're too afraid to let anyone love you that you have to hide behind your anthropological bullshit while preaching to the rest of us about monogamous relationships being a foolish choice when you've never even EXPEREINCED one. You don't deserve one. You don't deserve the one you could have if you would open your fucking eyes. So go crawl into bed with your latest fuck-of-the-week and carry on thinking that you're happy. Keep fooling yourself, Brennan. But know the rest of us don't buy it."

She slammed the phone down and ruthlessly tugged the cord from the wall. It hung in her hand as the tears started and she covered her face with her other hand. Sobbing by the phone she didn't hear the footsteps gently padding up behind her until she felt his two arms wrap around her and turn her into his chest.

She wrapped her arms around him and held on. "I'm sorry."

He shushed her and rested his cheek on her hair. He'd heard her get up and her half of the conversation. "Don't apologize. You were right."

"I've never…yelled at her like that before."

"I know. Come on. Come to bed. Tomorrow's Saturday, you don't have to deal with it right now."

She nodded and let him lead her back to bed. Once there he tucked the sheets around them both and pulled her against his chest, his arms around her. He hummed something against her hair and she started to drift off.

He hadn't expected her fierce defense of him. She'd been Brennan's best friend for much longer then she'd known him but there she was, on his side. AT his side. And he felt…content. For the first time in longer then he could remember.

"Hey, Angela?"

"Mmm," she mumbled against his shoulder.

"I'm taking Parker to the zoo tomorrow and then to the diner. Would you like to come? I'd like it if you did."

"Mmm. 'Kay. Me too."

"Good. Go to sleep now."

"'Kay. Night, Booth."

She was sound asleep within seconds and he let himself drift off with a new feeling settling over him.


*Ok, so up 'til the end of that I wasn't sure I was going to allude to this being a possibly permanent thing but I just watched 3 hours of Bones and got increasingly frustrated with Brennan so I may have taken it out on her. For now this remains a one-shot but I may come back and write some more if inspiration comes to me. To all who disapprove of this 'ship, forgive me, but I felt like I had to write it, and even if you don't like the 'ship I hope you enjoyed the story anyway. Reviews are more than welcome, this is my first story back in over two years and I think it was successful. Let me know what you think and thanks for reading!!*