Every once in a while, there's an episode which makes me pop out stories like there's no tomorrow. This is one.

I'm trying so hard to write an essay for uni, but these ideas won't leave me alone. The psychological component of my essay makes me constantly think of Sweets, and then this episode. Sigh...Obsession isn't always a good thing.

I hope you can at least enjoy :)

Title from Florence and the Machine's amazing song. First line taken from there also.

Disclaimer: My boyfriend suggested I hand in my stories as my essays...unfortunately it won't get me any closer to owning Bones...It's still all Hart Hanson.


Drumming Song


It fills my head up and gets louder and louder...


The mere thought of the night on the stairs was enough to bring tears to his eyes.

Seeley Booth was not a crying man, he wasn't ashamed of crying, but he had faced so many adversities in his life that he had learnt crying didn't fix things. And yet, the thought of his partner turning him away brought tears to his eyes.

He had cried a lot in the week after, almost every night. He didn't sob and eat chocolate in front of a chick flick, but there were tears and they did roll down his cheeks before he went to sleep.

Booth's ceiling had become his sanctuary. He would lie in bed and stare at it for hours, silently asking it why it was that the woman he loved couldn't love him back. His mind was filled only with her, with her voice, with her reasons, with her excuses.

Truth be told, his tears were that of frustration more than of sadness. He was frustrated beyond words with her. How was it that he could love her so wholly, so purely and she feel nothing for him?

He knew she had feelings, he could see the pain in her as she turned away from him on the steps outside the Hoover Building. He can still hear the pain in her voice when she turns him down for lunch or dinner every day for the last week.

He knows they're both hurting and he wishes more than anything that he could fix it because maybe if he fixes it they can move forward, rather than staying in this static state.

He stands outside her door a week later and knocks gently, finally gaining the courage to see her outside of work.

She opens the door and stares at him for a good long moment. He holds her gaze and she steps aside, letting him in.

He feels like a teenager all over again, going through his first break up. Except this isn't a break up, he reminds himself. This is a healing visit; this is going to fix things.

She offers him a drink and they settle on scotch. She pours it and he sits on her couch, waiting for her. She stops at the entrance to the lounge room, looking at him quizzically, with a slight pause in her step she walks to him and sits on the couch next to him. Close enough that their legs touch, this surprises him.

They clink their glasses together and take a sip, neither one of them knowing what to toast.

Now that he's here the thoughts that had been consuming him are disappearing rapidly from his mind. Just being in her presence makes everything feel better. If he was being honest with himself, it was because being with her meant she wasn't out with anyone else, she wasn't trying to move on just yet, she was with him, and that's all that matters.

He took another sip of scotch and turned to her to find her watching him intently. He chuckled at the moment and asked softly, "Is there any chance?"

For once she didn't ask him to clarify; she knew exactly what he meant, "Statistically, there is always a chance."

He sighed, she was far too rational, "Not statistically, Bones, just between us. Between friends, can you tell me?"

Her eyes saddened and he didn't want to hear her answer.

"You didn't fight, Booth."


"That night, I gave you one reason and you ran, you told me I was right and you didn't fight."

Booth set down his scotch and focussed on his partner wholly, "Would it have changed anything?"

The silence was deafening, her eyes flicked all over his face and then settled on the coffee table where she set down her glass too, "Yes."

And then he was kissing her.

And she was kissing him back.

It was passionate and soft all at once, his arms encircling her, hers running up his chest and around his neck. They moved in perfect synchronicity, lips melding and bodies heating in bliss.

And then it was over.

"I have something to confess."

Brennan was silent, still catching her breath, but she nodded and he knew he should continue.

"I have loved you from the beginning. I always knew."

She didn't answer him immediately, but kissed him again softly, "It was more recent for me."

Their eyes met and they both knew what she meant, even if she wasn't ready to say the words out loud.

Hours later, after they had spoken everything through, after they had kissed each other's lips swollen, they lay in her bed, tangled up in their own personal utopia.

She fell asleep first, safe, comfortable and warm in his arms, trusting him, knowing he wouldn't hurt her. He lay awake a little longer, his mind devoid of the thoughts he had wrestled with over the last week. He watched her ceiling for a little while and found he only had one question to ask it.

How could he get a woman who didn't believe in marriage to marry him?


Drop me a line; let me know what you thought! :) At least let me know it was worth not writing my essay for. Hehe.