5Unfortunately, Bones, its characters, and its actors, do not belong to me and instead belong to Hart Hanson, FOX, and, in the case of the actors, themselves.
But hopefully you can enjoy this while reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
A/N: I wrote this with a tune in mind - "Walking Behind" by The Moffatts" - so if you haven't heard the song I would suggest that maybe you listen to it, although it's definitely not necessary to read it and understand it fully. But if you search "Walking Behind Bones" on youtube, you can find a lovely fanvid of Booth/Brennan that introduced me to the song in the first place. Seriously. It's a beautiful fanvid. It'll have the song running through your head for days. Go find it and you'll see. It's too awesome to not look it up. Well, unless you want to read this first. In which case, by all means, read it and then look up the fanvid.
It was silly of me to even think of telling her. That stunned expression that crossed her face for about a millisecond was enough to tell me that she didn't return my feelings. So I passed it off as some lame comment about how it's in a "y'know, atta girl kinda way", bumping her softly on the shoulder with my fist in the way that us guys do.
And, as further proof that she doesn't love me back, she returned the comment, bumping my own shoulder with her fist. It was difficult to keep a pained expression from morphing my features, giving away how much I wanted to see something a bit more favorable.
What that woman does to me is absolutely ridiculous. I should be able to look past that dream that I had; she's not my wife, and she never will be. God only knows how many times she's told me that she doesn't believe in marriage. Why would she change her mind just for me, a guy she loves in an "atta boy" way? I'm so good at reading people, that surely I would be able to tell if she had any more-than-friendly feelings toward me.
Perhaps Sweets is right, and this love is just left over from that dream that I had. Perhaps it will go away in a few weeks, or even a few days.
Surely I shouldn't have told Cam so soon.
But no. I know I love Bones. When I see her, it's not like I kinda smile and think "Oh good, Bones is here". It makes me want to jump up and down and hug a clown or two. That's not the kind of thing that can just be brought on by a coma, only to leave a few seconds later.
All I know is that the moment when I told her, and about the next 30 seconds after… It was far, far too awkward.
It was silly of me to even think that he meant it any other way. For just a moment, I was confused. I tried to figure out what he meant. That he really, truly loved me? Or just as a sister, a family member, a close colleague? When I told myself that he must mean the former, I began trying to figure out how to respond. I still don't know what I would have said. There was no time to figure it out before he said that he meant it, of course, in an "atta girl kinda way".
Of course. Just when I was maybe about to get my hopes up. Only a little bit, though. Not enough to make me kick a chair when I entered my house (okay, maybe just once). And so I had no choice but to respond in the same fashion.
Not that I'm saying I do love him. After all, love isn't some mystical power. It's one of those things that I've explained to Booth countless times is related to science, and can be explained logically.
But I must admit that my pulse seems to quicken when he walks into the room, and when I see his name come up on my phone, signaling another case, or sometimes just to talk. And when my phone rings and it's not him, my heart sinks just a little bit (although obviously organs such as one's heart can't actually sink, I'm simply trying my hardest at a metaphor). Perhaps when I think about him, I get goosebumps up my arms. And maybe, just maybe, he's entered my dreams once or twice.
All of that doesn't matter, though, because the fact remains that no matter what feelings I have for him, he obviously doesn't reciprocate.
Plus, there's still that line. He first set it almost three years ago, but it's still in existence, bright as day. It's gotten to the point where I absolutely hate that line. But it's his line. Even if I was at all sure that he reciprocated in my feelings for him, I would never ask him to cross his own line. That's for him to decide.
But in any case. For a few wonderful, fabulous moments, I was able to think that he loved me. Not like a sister. Not like some good friend. But really, really loved me. And those 30 seconds afterward… I have to say, it was far, far too awkward.