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Dirt, grit, and a little bit of blood sloughed off of Booth’s skin in rivulets, the water carrying the offending substances effortlessly down the shower drain. He could still feel the sand on his skin, in his scalp, and he sighed. The desert seemed to stick to his tanned, taut skin, and it reminded him too much of his time in the service – always dirty, sand fucking everywhere, the heat never quite leaving his skin…
But the soft, feminine scent that lingered in the shower stall pulled him out of his thoughts, and Booth knew that he had Bones to thank for the lack of hot water. Still, he couldn’t help but inhale the floral scent wafting through the air.
It put him at ease to know she needed him, even though she would vehemently deny the thought. He smirked, then shook his head, wondering why he was thinking about Bones in the shower.
After scrubbing himself thoroughly (he dared to hope that he got all of the sand out of his hair), he stepped out of the shower and toweled off, groaning as he watched more sand fall to the floor.
He hated the desert. Couldn’t wait to go home. But Bones said she needed him. She said ‘please’ in a desperate tone that he savored, and that he of course teased her for. He couldn’t deny that it put a little pep in his step, to know that his partner actually relied on him at least a little bit. It wasn’t something that was ever spoken about, and he was grateful to know he played at least some significant part in her life. She definitely did in his.
He stepped out of the bathroom, towel slung low over his hips, and headed back towards the living room. There was a fold-out couch he was using as a bed and it was comfortable enough that his back didn’t ache like it would have if he’d just slept on his couch at home. Bones had slept in the bed the night before and the sheets still smelled like her, all soft and warm and sleep-rumpled like he so rarely got to see.
But before he could even think about settling into those sweet Bones-smelling sheets, or about changing, or even why he thought Bones smelled so fucking good, he heard soft sobs echoing from the room upstairs. His heart sank as he remembered the real reason he’d come out to the desert, aside from Bones’ begging.
Angela.
He let the towel fall unceremoniously to his feet, slipped a pair of sweatpants on, tugged a t-shirt over his head, and then jogged upstairs, ready to be another set of shoulders to cry on if she wanted.
As he approached her room, murmurs echoed softly behind the door but the crying didn’t cease.
Brennan’s soft, low voice was clear through the crack in the door and Booth stepped closer to catch what she was saying.
“…loved you and only you, completely, for three weeks a year, Ange. That’s more than I’ve ever had.” Her voice was faint, but Booth heard the underlying message loud and clear.
Apparently, Angela had also gleaned the deeper meaning, as he heard her whisper words of comfort and encouragement, but Brennan was quick to assert the focus back onto Angela, refusing to take the attention away from her friend.
“No, no, sweetie, he loved me all the time,” Angela’s voice broke. “I was the one who couldn’t handle more than three weeks a year. I mean, what kind of person am I? What if I don’t have a generous heart?” She sobbed.
Brennan hugged Angela tightly and shushed her, her tone low and soothing. Booth suddenly felt like he was intruding on the deeply intimate bond the two women shared.
“What if that was my only chance?”
“Angela,” he heard Brennan scoff. “Everything happens at least once. Infinity travels in both directions. There is no one, singular event.”
Angela smothered a chuckle and a small smile graced Booth’s features at the sound. “I don’t know what that means.” She laughed as she said a saying that was all too familiar in Brennan’s lexicon, and Booth’s smile stretched to a fond grin.
Brennan was undeterred. “Infinity happens today and yesterday and tomorrow. Nothing happens once. It means that you will always have another chance to find what you’re looking for.”
Booth’s chest felt tight at her words. Bones, his Bones, his awkward partner who was always bad with words and people, was actively saying all of the right things and letting herself feel, just because her friend needed it. He suddenly felt guilty for assuming she was insensitive or that she couldn’t be empathetic. He knew better than that, and the way she was treating Angela was proof.
Brennan constantly surprised him in all of the best ways and he knew, right then, that he’d do anything for her for the rest of his life.
“Do you promise?” Angela asked, and Booth winced.
“Yes.” Was all Bones said.
“With your heart?”
Well, maybe he was going to hear it crash and burn after all.
“Even better. With my head. But yes, Ange, I promise with my heart.”
Booth couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Bones, all-too rational, use your head Bones was promising Angela with her heart. He felt shell-shocked and guilty and sorrowful for all the times he’d told Bones she was bad with people, that she wasn’t ‘normal’. But he didn’t want normal. He wanted her at his side, empathy and awkwardness and rationality together. And there she was, bearing it all just to bring comfort to her friend.
He let his forehead rest on the doorframe for a moment, waiting to hear something else before heading back downstairs. But the room was silent, save for Angela’s soft crying and Brennan murmuring words of comfort.
Booth knew there was nothing he could offer, so he left the two women to their bubble and went downstairs. Snagging a beer from the fridge, he popped the cap off with his teeth, a horrible habit he’d picked up from his Army days, and spat the cap into the trash can, smirking when it made it in.
He was only a few sips in when he heard familiar footsteps sounding softly on the stairs.
Bones.
She rounded the corner dressed in fuzzy, bright purple shorts and a cream-colored cable knit sweater that fell off of her frame seamlessly. Her hair was pulled up into a messy bun, her features soft and open. The lack of makeup on her face somehow made her crystal blue eyes pop even more than they usually did and he found himself clearing his throat.
“Bones,” he greeted. She met his gaze with a soft smile. “How’s Angela?”
“She’s sad,” she said matter-of-factly, though her own features were tinged with sympathy. “I hate seeing her like this. I don’t know how to help her.”
He watched as she sat uncomfortably at the kitchen table, picking anxiously at the frayed edge of her sweater.
“You’re doing great, Bones.”
“How do you know?”
“I heard you talking to her upstairs.”
When her brow furrowed, he winced slightly, hoping she wouldn’t be insulted that he’d listened to their private conversation. But he wanted to assure her that she was doing and saying the right things – wanted to comfort and console her just like she’d done with Angela.
However, she interpreted his wince as something she’d done wrong, of course armed with the knowledge that he often voiced her mistakes, especially when it came to people and their emotions. Her eyes widened worriedly and he watched, alarmed, as they welled with tears.
“Did I do something wrong?” She whispered, distraught, horrified at the thought that she could’ve made things worse for her best friend.
“No, of course not, Bones,” he murmured, setting his beer on the counter and stepping closer to her. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
She frowned, though her shoulders sagged in relief. “Why did you make that face at me, then?”
“What face?”
“That face that you make when you don’t want to be honest with me.”
He frowned. “I’m always honest with you.”
She snorted.
“Hey!”
“You get this...pinchy look on your face when I’ve made a mistake and you don’t want to tell me.”
“Pinchy?”
“Yes, like this,” she contorted her features in a way that made him chuckle. It was almost a grimace, but she looked more in pain than anything.
“That’s what pinchy is? Well, Bones, I wish you would’ve told me before I made a fool of myself. If I’d known I’d been walking around town lookin’ all pinchy...”
She laughed and grinned at him, fears assuaged for now, and he smiled back.
They sat in comfortable silence for a moment before Bones looked back at him, hesitation clear in her shining eyes.
“You really think I helped her?”
His expression softened. “Yes. I really think you helped her. She needed heart, Bones, and you gave that to her without question. You came all the way out here to be there for her. And you got me to come all the way out here to be there for her. She knows you love her, and so do I.”
She smiled, her cheeks flushing red at the compliment.
“She’ll be sad for a while, sure. That’s what always happens when we lose the people we love. But she knows that she can count on you and that you’ll always be there for her, and that’s what matters, Bones.”
She bit her bottom lip, hesitation appearing again in her gaze. “You always tell me I’m bad with people.”
His face fell. So it did bother her. “I shouldn’t do that. It’s not fair to you, Bones. Sure, you might not always pick up on sarcasm or know when to soften the blow, but that doesn’t mean you’re bad with people. It just means you’re not practiced with some social cues. So I’m sorry for making you feel bad about it. You’re good with people when it matters and I should remember that.”
She nodded, still fiddling with the edge of her sweater. “Thank you, Booth. I—I’m glad you’re here.”
His heart swelled at her words and he beamed at her. “Yeah, I’m glad I’m here too.”
And he was. Even though the desert was hot and sandy and miserable, even though he was heartbroken for Angela’s loss and hated that they had to be there to solve her boyfriend’s murder, even though this case was frustrating and tiresome, he got to see a new side of his friend. He got to be there for her and watch her learn to trust her instincts. He got to grow alongside her instead of against her.
“Goodnight, Booth.” She said, looking at him curiously.
His eyes met hers and he felt seen in her gaze. “Goodnight, Bones.”
He watched her go up the stairs, smiling at her when she glanced back at him, and then poured the rest of his beer down the drain.
He’d sleep better without it. He just needed the memory of her gaze.