"Three females... Caucasians, 70 to 80 years old..."
"Three old ladies on a park bench," Cam said.
"Where's the flasher?" Booth asked under his breath. Camille heard him and cracked up.
"What?" Brennan asked, looking mostly at Cam. "Why are you laughing?"
"Three old ladies on a park bench... Then came a flasher...?" Cam tried to explain. But then she remembered who she was talking to. And said, "It's an old joke. Never mind."
"I can laugh at a joke," Brennan said, offended.
Cam shot a look at Booth.
"You won't think it's funny," Booth said.
"How do you get to decide what I find funny or not?"
"Fine," he said, giving up. "Three old ladies are on a park bench. A flasher walks by and flashes them."
Cam looked at Booth. She couldn't believe he was actually telling Dr. Brennan this sex joke. And his tone... was more bored and monotonous than anything.
"The first old lady has a stroke, the second one has a stroke, the third one... can't reach that far," he finished.
Cam laughed again, sharing a smile with Booth. But of course, Brennan didn't laugh.
"I told you you wouldn't get it," Booth said.
"I get it. Two of the ladies performed manual sexual stimulation on the flasher's genitalia."
Booth wanted to dig a hole and crawl in it.
"But you're tone of voice, the way you told the joke, wasn't there to carry the punch line," she continued, refocusing on the remains.
"Whatever," he muttered.
Cam watched the two of them. Something was off.
"I'll need the remains to..." Brennan ordered.
"I know," Booth interrupted her.
"And the..."
"Park bench, got it."
"You wanna do my job?" she snapped at him.
Cam took a step back and followed the exchange from afar.
"Geez, Bones, relax."
"Okay! That's it. What's going on here?" Cam interjected.
"Nothing," they both mumbled at the same time.
Cam put her fists on her hips.
"This is not nothing. You two have barely exchanged a word since we got here. And when you did, it was to bark at one another."
"I can't talk to Booth, he's mad at me," Brennan stated.
Booth's head spun towards her.
"What? I'm not mad at you. You're mad at me!"
"I'm not mad at you!" Brennan retorted.
"Enough!" Cam said. "Neither of you is mad. I get it." She studied them a second. "Will I have to send Sweets after you?" she suggested.
"No."
"Not necessary."
They both looked down at their feet, like children caught by their mother.
"I'll be at the lab," she said, getting off her knees.
"I drove you here, remember?" Booth told her.
"Then I'll be in the car," she said, annoyed.
He watched her go and sighed. Cam approached him.
"You slept with her, didn't you?" she said, smiling.
"What?! No! Why would you say that?"
"You've got your guilty face on. What did you do?"
"Unbelievable! Why is it always my fault?" he argued.
"Whatever it is, I don't wanna know. But I want you to fix it, because this murder case is gonna need all of us in sync."
"You better tell her, not me."
"I'm serious, Seeley," Cam warned him before walking away.
Booth instructed the team to take everything to the Jeffersonian. He might have sounded a little bossier than usual.
How was he supposed to fix them? He got behind the wheel of his SUV and started the engine. She was reading report. Obviously, she didn't want to talk. He turned the radio on and drove. At least, the bodies had been found not too far from the Jeffersonian.
Pretending to read the report she was holding, she wondered how she was supposed to fix them. This was her fault. But how was she supposed to verbalize three years of emotions in one sentence? It was illogical. Yet she knew it was possible. People did it all the time. He turned on the radio and she understood he didn't want to talk. She looked outside the window. They were almost there.
10:57pm. It wasn't true that days seemed longer in England. They were excruciatingly long in DC too. Everyone had left the lab, except her. Three victims, three murder weapons yet to be determined, three killers, one park bench, one crime scene. She was compiling all the data they had cumulated into her computer. But after the third transcribing error on her part, she stopped. This was going to take all night. She was too exhausted to go across the street to get coffee.
She folded her arms on her desk and rested her head on them.
"You sleeping?"
She jumped at the sound of his voice and turned to him.
"Didn't wanna scare you," he said. He handed her a Styrofoam coffee cup. "Peace offering," he explained, tilting his head.
He looked calm. It soothed her instantly.
"Just so you know," she said, getting up and taking the cup, "I'm not angry with you."
"And I'm not angry with you."
They both took a sip, sitting on the couch. Brennan was next to speak up.
"But... something's wrong with us, no?"
Booth shrugged.
"I wouldn't say something's wrong, I'd say... something's not quite right."
She laughed faintly.
"Good news is, it can't possibly get worse, right?"
She seemed drained.
"I don't get it," she started, putting down the cup on the table in front of them.
"What?"
"You and Cam. You used to have a personal relationship, it ended, and yet, you still talk, joke, and laugh together. You and I never did anything, why is it so difficult for us to..."
"It's gonna be alright, Bones. You'll see."
He sounded so confident, she almost believed him. They shared a look mixed of sadness and hope.
"Have you met Kate, yet?" Booth asked, taking another sip of coffee.
Brennan's shoulders dropped a little.
"No."
"I see you're looking forward to that," he said, smirking.
She rolled her eyes, trying not to laugh. His childlike face was so damn cute.
"I know it might sound rude, but I hate new people."
"I know you do," he said, understanding.
She played with the edge of her paper cup.
"We were a great team."
She wasn't sure if she was talking about the whole team, or mostly the two of them.
"We still are," he affirmed.
"Booth?"
She felt his eyes on her.
"Remember when you told me we were the center?"
He chuckled.
"When you kissed my hand?" he said, waiting for her reaction.
Her eyes shut tightly and she tried not to laugh.
"I didn't..."
"I chose to believe you did."
She smiled at him. "Doesn't make it true."
Then her smile faded and she got all serious on him.
"Do you still believe we are the center?"
"More than ever, Bones."
His hand caressed her knee. She didn't protest.
"And are we... gonna hold?"
He put on his charm smile which got to her instantly.
"Always."
She held his gaze. She was getting better at this.
"Thanks for the coffee," she said, holding up the cup.
"You're welcome."
She didn't want this moment to end.
"I could eat some Thai food..." she said, as a-matter-of-factly.
His smile transformed into a grin.
"What?" she asked.
"Already put the order in."
She chuckled. Was she that predictable?
"Speaking of which," he said, patting her knee before getting on his feet. "I've gotta drop some papers at the FBI before going to the restaurant to get our takeouts. I'll meet you back here?"
She nodded and watched him back up to the door, never taking his eyes off her.
"I think we're back," he said.
"Not if you forget the extra..."
"Got it," he winked, interrupting her. And he was off.
She was still smiling when she sat in front of her computer. While waiting for him to get back, she decided to get rid of some old files she didn't need. And by 'getting rid of', she meant burning them on a disk. She started by clearing her desktop, putting everything in chronological order rather than alphabetical. Then she opened her documents folder and renamed each file accordingly. This one, she didn't recognize. When had she written a word document titled "SB-Xfile"? She doubled clicked on it. That was definitely not hers:
He lay back down on the bed and pulled her on top of him. Her giggle wrapped around his heart and squeezed it. They lost themselves in the other's gaze. Something strong, scary, exhilarating passed, and they both caught it. They eased into the silence and kept staring. There was no battle over who would look away first. There was no eyebrow raised. Only a knowing look neither of them would acknowledge tonight. She kissed him first. Taking her time, she played with his lips who responded move for move, like they had been doing this for years. Her heart was about to burst. And she knew what it meant. Still she couldn't even form the words in her own head, terrified of getting hurt again. She brushed the three little words off her mind, but they kept rushing back, swirling and twirling... The way they were kissing was foreshadowing a long and tender night. Maybe she didn't even realize it, she panicked. -Fuck me..., she said, almost chocking on her words. She felt she was ripping apart, and didn't want to fall. She couldn't. He rolled over her, brushing her bangs off her forehead. Her eyes were closed. He didn't want to rush it tonight. He wanted to possess everything of her. He wanted it to be perfect for her. He kissed her nose, her neck, teased her ear. He reached for her knee and brought it up only to caress the soft skin of her thigh. She whispered his name, begging. Her mind was screaming at him. Please, be rude and fast. Please don't make me fall. She tried with all her strength to roll back on top. He wouldn't have it. She didn't want to be kissed. She wanted him in her. She wanted this over with before the tears she felt in her chest came streaming down her face. She darted her tongue out to make it hornier and less intimate, and he gladly complied. She finally took him in her hand and guided him between her legs, which she parted further to make access easier. He felt his tip gliding in her and he pulled away slowly. Not so fast. She pleaded, pulling his body on her, pushing hers up on him. She bit his shoulder a little and almost groaned.
-Look at me..., he whispered.
Don't talk to me like this, she thought. Moan, scream, yell, say dirty things. Fuck me. Don't whisper my name.
-Temperance...
Brennan froze. She read that word three times in a row. She was not imagining it. Her name was there. Squirming in her seat she wondered what to do. She continued reading.
-Temperance...
She knew her eyes were filled with tears now. She was holding in her breath, too. Because she knew the second she'd let her breath out, she wouldn't be able to hold her heart in any longer.
-Fuck m...
-Please.
Her eyes opened and he entered her. She blinked rapidly to hide the inevitable. He thrust in her, taking his time, studying her, trying to read her mind. She held his gaze as long as she could. But the look in his eyes... giving her hope, making her believe for a second—
She slammed her laptop shut. What was that? She had no proof he... Booth didn't write. It couldn't be his. He was afraid of every sex related term in the dictionary. Writing reports was a nightmare for him. How could he have written something so... beautiful and intense? And it's not like she could ask him, "Hey, Booth? Have you left an amazing story on my computer?" "What story?" "The one where someone, which could be you, makes love to me?"... Ok. Now she was acting crazy.
She got up and paced around. She checked the temperature on the wall. That's broken. No way it's only 68°F.
But what if it was a message? No way... What if he wanted her to find it? Hypothesis: He wrote this for me to find it... so I know I can... BlahhUE82hqmalo!!
"Hey! I'm sorry it took so long. I made them put more spring rolls, because I'm sure that, even though you won't admit it, you stole mine last time. I did not eat it. I'd remember."
Everything he said sounded like Hebrew to her. She didn't understand Hebrew. But she nodded, praying he wouldn't see how flustered she was. She took a book from her desk and turned around to put it on the bookshelf. That's when it hit her.
All she had to do was to conduct a little experiment. She undid two buttons of her blouse, showing off her cleavage. If he responded well... she'd make Angela proud.