Bones: Fic - I Need You So Much Closer (4)
Brennan almost lets the door slam on her way into her apartment, but thinks better of it, catching the edge with her heel and letting it close slowly with a soft snick. She tosses Booth’s jacket on the table (he’d insisted that she take it; she’d insisted he would forget to ask for it back) and collapses backwards on the couch.
She gets up, eventually, pouring a glass of wine and watching it sparkle for a moment before taking a sip. Brennan runs her fingers along the titles on her bookshelf; she isn’t sure what she wants at the moment. She finished her paperbacked research over lunch, and she feels no particular mood, no craving for a title, an author, a genre. Romance…science…fairy tales…nonfiction, she has hundreds of books on thousands of topics and nothing is holding her interest.
She could sit down and write for a while, but it has been a long day, and her mind is emptying itself slowly. Brennan leans against the cool wood of her bookshelf, wondering fleetingly what it would take for her to truly relax.
The phone rings, and she jumps, startled and irritated. Her eyes refuse to focus, and she hits answer without checking the number.
“Brennan.”
“Bones, hey, it’s me.”
“What is it, Booth?”
She is falling asleep standing up, so she slides her back down the side of the shelf until she is sitting on her living room floor.
“What’s wrong?” he sounds worried now, she can picture the frown of concern she’s sure he’s wearing.
“Nothing. It’s very late, Booth, is there some new information you wanted to share?”
Their current case is challenging, the construction crew that discovered the body had severely damaged or destroyed most of the bones. She’s been reconstructing for days, but some fragments have been reduced to little more than powder. Booth’s field work and gut have led their investigation, and Brennan has learned much from her observations.
“I have a theory, but I wanted to run it by you.”
“Now?”
“Yeah, I was thinking that I could come over and talk some stuff out.”
She almost spits out her ‘yes,’ because she wants to see him (she always wants to see him) and Booth has a way of making the most mundane evenings eventful and exciting. He will come over, and maybe cook, and insist that she sleep. Brennan bites her lip, considering her options as she hesitates, cradling the phone against her ear.
“Is it important?”
“What?”
“The information, do we need to act on it right now?”
The line crackles as he pauses, “Not really.”
“Then we can talk about it tomorrow.”
She stands, wearily, moving toward her bedroom on unsteady feet.
“Okay,” his voice sounds so small; he is speaking so low she can barely hear him, “G’night.”
“Booth?” she catches him before he can hang up.
“Mmm?”
“Pick me up for breakfast and we’ll talk about it then.”