I don't own Bones, I know I have 206 in my body, but the Bones from Fox isn't mine.
I will hopefully post two of these a week, usually on Mondays. One from Brennan's point of view and the other from Booth's point of view.
Booth's point of view
The Fortune in the Cookie
It was the fourth time I brought her food that week; again, it was after midnight, and again I used the excuse that I saw her light on. It seemed to work, but I wondered if she left her light on hoping I would come, because I still couldn't read her. It was odd how I could see the pain she kept hidden behind those beautiful blue eyes, but couldn't read her feelings for me.
She let me in, and we chatted as we ate. As I opened the fortune cookie and read the message, I sent a prayer to God that it implied her.
I knew I was falling in love with her. I had an idea that this would happen from that first kiss, on the steps of the bar in the pouring rain. As I looked in her eyes, before my lips touched hers, I knew. That was why I told her about my gambling problem; because I thought this was going somewhere and I believed when it got there, it would be fantastic.
So, when our lips finally touched, I knew.
In that split, second, I decided that I wasn't going to sleep with her that night. I wanted something more than sex. I wanted something that developed over time, a real, lasting, love, which you only get, once in a lifetime. Therefore, when she pulled away, and ran to the cab, I was relieved. My first thought was to run to her, and pull her back into my arms, but I resisted. Then, when she turned to me, before getting into the cab, and she said, "We are not sleeping together." my heart soared, because I thought she felt it too.
Then I ran to her as she closed the door of the cab, and knocked on the window. I needed to know if she was as affected as I, but when she rolled down the window, I said, "So, you're afraid that when I look at you in the morning, I'll have regrets?"
She said, "That would never happen.", and the cab drove away. The last time I saw her that night was her waving good-bye to me through the window. I walked all the way home, four miles, in the pouring rain, in a twelve hundred dollar suit. I walked, because I needed to think. I walked to calm my libido. I walked to try to forget that kiss.
Then she had one of her squints return the evidence, she never even came to see me. It was bad enough I had a hangover, but realizing that I misunderstood everything from the night before, was even worse. That hurt, and when I showed up at the lab to tell her she was rehired, she said, "I've moved on."
I knew she meant from the case, but I also thought there was an underlying meaning behind it. It was her way of saying, 'last night never happened'.
We finished the case with her keeping her distance. We argued, and fought, and when it was over, she moved on without me. I kept tabs on her during that year we were apart. I watched her failed attempt at a relationship with that idiot Peter.
Then, when I heard that she was returning from Guatemala, I knew I had to see her again. I tried to move on, but I couldn't, not without knowing if she ached for me as much as I ached for her, so I called in a hold for questioning request, and met her plane.
After that, it was easy. I got her to work with me, and I started to explore the feelings that I had for her. Day after day, case after case, I learned more and more about her, and I could feel myself drawn to her again, that invisible pull that she had over me, but I still didn't know how she felt. I still couldn't read her, and I didn't think she knew how I felt.
I remembered when Mara Muerte put a hit out on her I almost lost it, but I held my temper until I saw Ortez. Then as I held a gun to his head, and threatened the most dangerous gang leader in the DC area, I knew this was more than a partnership, because cops don't go that far for their partners. That was when I knew I had to be careful, and keep my feelings in check until I knew how she felt.
It couldn't have been more than a week later that I found out she was looking for a date online. I wished it was me taking her on that date, but she didn't seem to return my feelings. I even tried to turn on the Booth charm, the look and the smile that always got the girl, but she didn't even flinch when I told her, "Whatever happened to meeting someone across a crowded room, eyes meeting, that old black magic gets you in its spell."
Her online date was named David, and they had a dinner date, but when she went to the restaurant, someone shot at her. That was when the overpowering need to protect her took over, and I made myself her bodyguard. I brought David in for questioning, and tried to intimidate him, but it didn't work.
I stayed with her day and night, until the bomb in her fridge put me in the hospital, and then I turned her over to the one man who wanted her dead. Kenton. Again, I ran to her rescue, with two broken ribs and a fractured clavicle, I went to her, and when she put her arms around me and pulled me close, I told her I was there, right there, thinking I'll always be here.
My feelings changed slowly, building day by day, but I was always able to hide them from her. Until I saw her in the hospital in New Orleans, then again I almost lost control. Detective Harding saw it, before I was able to suppress it, but looking at her battered face, made me want to pull her into my arms, kiss her, and make all the pain go away.
Our last case gave me hope, especially when she reached out to me, as she placed her hand on my arm while I told her about seeing that little boy, watch his father die. At first I hesitated before touching her, I hadn't touched her since that night, but I needed to feel her touch, so I took her hand and ran my thumb over it, as I looked up into her eyes, and saw a glimpse of what we one day could be.
However, the more I learned about her, the more I knew she was afraid to love, and at least now, I knew why. This last case broke my heart, and made me realize that I did indeed love her. When I pulled her into my arms in that barn, and told her it was going to be all right, I realized that I never wanted to let her go.
The protective mode took over when McVicar asked to speak to her alone.
"You got two ways to look at this. One is you score a private chat. The second one is, you attack her and I'll drill you through the forehead"
"How could I possibly attack her?"
"I'll decide what is and isn't an attack –like say, a hiccup."
I knew she heard me, and I wondered if she realized my feelings for her, but just like that, it was over. After the case was ended, and McVicar was in jail, I went with her to bring Russ back to her place, and as I walked in, I saw her book. I couldn't help peeking at the first page, and when I saw the dedication, I felt a surge of optimism, for the future, our future, together.
After my beer, I left, and sat in my truck for a minute; I reached into my pocket, and withdrew the crumpled piece of paper that I picked up off the table from the night before, looking at it with hope in my heart. 'The one beside you, will be your future'