You knew it would be hard enough, sharing a motel with her. Okay, not a motel room, exactly, but motel and that is still hard. Aren't motels reserved for lovers to rendezvous?
Then Sweets brings it up, and you feel the need to tell a little lie, a little fib, just to get him off your back.
"In fact, I'm goin' on a date next week!"
But he reads through it. "Oh, yeah, with whom, Booth?"
You close the computer on him. Stupid kid.
"I'm her husband, Bobby Kent." Just saying that gives you a thrill. It shouldn't, but it does. You need to move on. Let her go. And yet you keep getting a little rush of pure joy form saying that word; "husband."
You are glad she accepts the identity easily. No questions asked. You like to think it's because, secretly, she gets a little thrill from hearing it too.
You just finished dancing to the upbeat song when the lights go down and the music slows way down. You already start to leave; how are you expected to do the sprinkler to this music? But she grabs your arm saying, "Can we dance, Booth? It's Seal."
Stops you right in your tracks. Is she serious? "It's a slow song."
Understanding floods her beautiful eyes. "Oh, I'm sorry, is that too difficult for you?"
Oh, you have no idea, Bones.
"Uh, I just don't want any misunderstandings here, that's all, Bones. I mean, you know, we, uh, opened up a door there that neither one of us wants to walk through."
Well, that she doesn't want to walk through. You would love to walk through that door. Run through it, even.
"I know, I-I just was asking to dance? Because I remembered the song. I'm sorry." She looks so crestfallen as she says this. You feel absolutely terrible about it. You don't want to make her feel bad about it, and give in.
"No, you know what, hey, it's just a dance it's- it's your reunion, let's do it. Let's dance. Come on." She goes into your arms happily and immediately wraps her arms around your neck and tries to pull you close. But you push her away gently, placing your hands on her waist so your elbows are locked straight.
"Oh, why are you so far away?' There is a laugh in her voice. Clearly, she finds the situation comical. But you don't. You can't believe you are doing this.
"Just keeping room for the Holy Spirit, that's all" because if I hold you closer I might explode, you want to add.
You discuss Mr. Buxley. He is really starting to creep you out. How she likes him, you have no idea. When he goes to the rope with the knife you expect the worst. Possibly something could fall on you and Bones. But when the stars on the ceiling drop down, and everyone ooh's and ah's and you are relieved.
She is looking up at them with a peculiar expression on her face and you look into her eyes, trying to read them.
"Bones, you're tearing up!" How strange.
"This was a prom I never got to go to," she shrugs. Tears pool in the corners of her eyes.
Hearing that breaks down your final defenses about dancing close to her, and you pull her close. She rests her head on your shoulder. You try to stiffen your body, not to give in. But as she sways gently to the music, you can tell that she is genuinely happy to be in your arms.
So just for those moments, you allow your body to misunderstand hers.
Ugh. I sort of felt like I had to write this, like some greater power was compelling me to- OMG A BONES COMMERCIAL AND THE LADY JUST ASKED BOOTH ON A DATE! (wow how ironic it came on just as I was typing this. Weird)- get all of this down. I also had written a little one-shot about the Parts in the Sum of the Whole, but then I looked on and everyone was writing it, so I felt funky about posting such a used topic. Then last Thursday's episode was on, and I mean come on! So, I wrote this lickity-split and shoved it out to you fine people.
Hope you enjoyed!!!
xoxo Something Witty Goes Here
PS i realize some writers on here have announced they are on a no-Bones kick b/c of the 100th episode. I understand your motives, but I don't agree. Shouldn't that episode be more of an inspiration to watch it because you are more focused on the fact that they should be together and are more driven, too. Grr.