Psychic - a fic.
Fanfic! Grew out of a conspiracy theory at the_bct, discussing the psychic thing with whitelily22 and storywriter84.
Thanks to annabones for betaing!
xoxox
“I see a man. This man has been around for a long time... several years, I'd say. He's in love with this woman,” she said as she positioned another card on the table, her hands delicate and graceful. Just as Angela thought the hands of a psychic should be. “See? They're bonded. This card?” she questioned, adding yet another card to the configuration. “It speaks of that bond. The love is mutual, but they don't know how to deal with that love.”
She smiled. She recognized that man and that woman. Hard not to, when Bren and Booth were the silliest people on earth. They both loved each other, why couldn't they just accept it and go smash their bodies against the other's in a sexual frenzy comparable to that of King Leonidas and his Queen in 300?
Incredible men, those of that movie, by the way. Just wow.
“Yes,” the woman continued, her voice soft enough to get her full attention but not so that she had to struggle to hear. The design on the table kept growing as she added more cards to it. “The bond they share is a special one. There's something between them that neither can deny, but that they both try to.”
OK, that was it. She was going to get a confession out of them and make them confront the truth. If they had a love so strong it showed in her psychic session-well, she had asked a general question, but anyways-and it was a session she was paying for, after all!-the least they could do was get together already and do the deed. Indeed. Gee, she was so witty.
“He knows his feelings for her. See this?” she pointed to a card with two swords in it. “He just doesn't know how to get close to her. And this?” she moved her finger to a card with two streams going in different directions. “She's afraid of her feelings. This card in conjunction with this other one tells us she's always thought of herself in a way that, she thinks, makes it impossible for her to love someone this much, to believe... that love can last.”
Poor Bren, Angela thought. She's denying herself true happiness because of a stupid fear.
“She's also afraid she'll lose her freedom. She leads her life in a way that makes her feel like she’s keeping her options open to what may come, but instead it has just been a fear of commitment.”
Wait. What?
“She's always been different,” the psychic kept saying. “She's always been the one to tell people to follow their feelings. She's always the one trying to embrace life for what it is, but see how the card is upside down? She just doesn't realize she's stopping herself from doing just that.”
Ohmigawd.
She went rigid, but didn't notice. Her eyes opened beyond their natural size, a clear sign of fright. But she didn't realize it.
“And he's waiting, because he sees all of this in her... but knows her enough to let her learn at her own pace. He accepts this in her. He loves her anyway.”
It was her. Her and Hodgins.
Ohmigawd.
She saw the psychic take all the cards and mix them into a deck. Still too afraid to give much thought into what she was doing, she placed a hand over the woman's, stopping her.
“Wait,” Angela said. “That's it? What's going to happen now?”
The woman looked at her with understanding.
“Cards don't tell the future, sweetheart. They just show you how things are. The best they can do is tell you one or two possibilities, but that can always change.”
“Won't you tell me a possibility? Believe me, I want-I need to know.”
The woman reached and put her other hand over hers and Angela's.
“It's not always good to do this, dear. Isn't it enough for you to know he loves you?”
“I need to know,” she repeated, the plea in her voice clear to her own ears.
Her eyes were full of compassion now. She let out a sigh and freed her hands, exposing the cards again.
“Choose one, honey.”
Was she really choosing a card, a single card, to tell her what she was supposed to do? For her to use as guidance?
Yes.
She cut the deck and turned over the card on top.
The woman gave her the answer, and her heart skipped a beat.
Now she had to deal with it. Now she had to decide.
Now she had to accept it had been about love all the time.
Thanks to annabones for betaing!
xoxox
“I see a man. This man has been around for a long time... several years, I'd say. He's in love with this woman,” she said as she positioned another card on the table, her hands delicate and graceful. Just as Angela thought the hands of a psychic should be. “See? They're bonded. This card?” she questioned, adding yet another card to the configuration. “It speaks of that bond. The love is mutual, but they don't know how to deal with that love.”
She smiled. She recognized that man and that woman. Hard not to, when Bren and Booth were the silliest people on earth. They both loved each other, why couldn't they just accept it and go smash their bodies against the other's in a sexual frenzy comparable to that of King Leonidas and his Queen in 300?
Incredible men, those of that movie, by the way. Just wow.
“Yes,” the woman continued, her voice soft enough to get her full attention but not so that she had to struggle to hear. The design on the table kept growing as she added more cards to it. “The bond they share is a special one. There's something between them that neither can deny, but that they both try to.”
OK, that was it. She was going to get a confession out of them and make them confront the truth. If they had a love so strong it showed in her psychic session-well, she had asked a general question, but anyways-and it was a session she was paying for, after all!-the least they could do was get together already and do the deed. Indeed. Gee, she was so witty.
“He knows his feelings for her. See this?” she pointed to a card with two swords in it. “He just doesn't know how to get close to her. And this?” she moved her finger to a card with two streams going in different directions. “She's afraid of her feelings. This card in conjunction with this other one tells us she's always thought of herself in a way that, she thinks, makes it impossible for her to love someone this much, to believe... that love can last.”
Poor Bren, Angela thought. She's denying herself true happiness because of a stupid fear.
“She's also afraid she'll lose her freedom. She leads her life in a way that makes her feel like she’s keeping her options open to what may come, but instead it has just been a fear of commitment.”
Wait. What?
“She's always been different,” the psychic kept saying. “She's always been the one to tell people to follow their feelings. She's always the one trying to embrace life for what it is, but see how the card is upside down? She just doesn't realize she's stopping herself from doing just that.”
Ohmigawd.
She went rigid, but didn't notice. Her eyes opened beyond their natural size, a clear sign of fright. But she didn't realize it.
“And he's waiting, because he sees all of this in her... but knows her enough to let her learn at her own pace. He accepts this in her. He loves her anyway.”
It was her. Her and Hodgins.
Ohmigawd.
She saw the psychic take all the cards and mix them into a deck. Still too afraid to give much thought into what she was doing, she placed a hand over the woman's, stopping her.
“Wait,” Angela said. “That's it? What's going to happen now?”
The woman looked at her with understanding.
“Cards don't tell the future, sweetheart. They just show you how things are. The best they can do is tell you one or two possibilities, but that can always change.”
“Won't you tell me a possibility? Believe me, I want-I need to know.”
The woman reached and put her other hand over hers and Angela's.
“It's not always good to do this, dear. Isn't it enough for you to know he loves you?”
“I need to know,” she repeated, the plea in her voice clear to her own ears.
Her eyes were full of compassion now. She let out a sigh and freed her hands, exposing the cards again.
“Choose one, honey.”
Was she really choosing a card, a single card, to tell her what she was supposed to do? For her to use as guidance?
Yes.
She cut the deck and turned over the card on top.
The woman gave her the answer, and her heart skipped a beat.
Now she had to deal with it. Now she had to decide.
Now she had to accept it had been about love all the time.