Bonesfic: Drink Up, Tomorrow's Another Day
Title: Drink Up, Tomorrow’s Another Day
Rating: Teen/ PG-13
Pairing: Unrequited B/B
Spoilers: Set in Season 6, so anything that has aired thus far in U.S.
Disclaimer: Bones is not mine. If it was I would treat it nicer.
Summary: Loneliness can beat even the most stalwart of heart.
She looked into the glass in her hand, rotating her wrist once, twice, watching the amber liquid swirl. She had witnessed many amazing things in her life, things very few others could claim to have seen, but at that moment the ocher vortex in her glass topped them all. She could claim it was the light refraction within the glass, could spew of atmospheric and gravitational requirements to create a vortex, hell, she could probably explain the distilling process of the liquor in her drink. But she wasn’t, and didn’t, because she wasn’t thinking about any of those things, and sadly she had no one to lie to anyway.
Dr. Temperance Brennan did wonder when she had started drinking hard liquor on a regular basis. Her usual drink of choice was wine or, occasionally, a beer, but not of late. Not for awhile. She wasn’t in the habit of drinking alone, or at least that had been the case at one point. Now? It was the case more often than not. But then, alone seemed to be something she was becoming reacquainted with.
Brennan used to drink with her partner, FBI Special Agent Seeley Booth. After they solved a case, the two of them would share a drink, a sort of celebration at successfully ridding the world of one more criminal, but not any more. Now, Booth generally went home to his girlfriend, blithely bidding her goodnight.
Brennan wondered if he shared a celebratory drink with Hannah, but then tried not to think about it at all.
She couldn’t figure out if she was jealous of Hannah, or sad to lose Booth, but maybe she just hated the fact that she was alone again. Because for all her bravado and self-reliance, it was the one thing she didn’t want to be. Maybe before, before Booth and his lessons of the heart, and his declarations of nothing would change between them. Maybe then she could have done alone.
Still, the isolation had its benefits. Alone, Brennan didn’t have to hide her fear and uncertainty. Alone she didn’t have to put on a false smile for there was no one to see her performance. Alone was sometimes easier and somewhere in Brennan’s many thoughts, she knew it shouldn’t be.
She considered the possibility that she was becoming a bit maudlin in her unintended isolation. The thought of her life somehow coming full circle whispered in the back of her mind, with a voice much like her own saying, “some people don’t get to have families.” Her friends hadn’t actually left her, not physically. But she felt left behind none the less. Brennan considered the probability of similar events happening within thirty-three years to the same individual before she began to worry about her own adaptability.
It seemed her friends had all adapted to life, grown while she remained the same. Or maybe not, she thought with a sardonic curl of her lips as she glanced at the near empty glass in her hand. Lifting her drink to her lips, Brennan downed the last of the amber liquid, embracing the burn as it coursed down her throat.
I have changed from wine to whiskey, she thought, the voice in her head self-deprecating. And I drink alone now, not with friends. A rational voice tried to tell her that wasn’t true adaptability but Brennan just lifted the decanter to her breast, hugging it like some desperate lover as she contemplated the empty nature of her glass.
With a soul crushing sigh, Brennan placed the decanter on her counter, her fingertips tracing the intricacies of the crystal. It would be there tomorrow, like the loneliness. Embracing her, consoling her…damning her. With that thought she hastily unscrewed the bottle and poured herself one last drink.
“Drink up,” she told herself, “tomorrow’s another day.” And with that preamble, Brennan downed the fiery liquid in one gulp before roughly placing the glass on the table. Yes, tomorrow was another day, just as today was.
Rating: Teen/ PG-13
Pairing: Unrequited B/B
Spoilers: Set in Season 6, so anything that has aired thus far in U.S.
Disclaimer: Bones is not mine. If it was I would treat it nicer.
Summary: Loneliness can beat even the most stalwart of heart.
She looked into the glass in her hand, rotating her wrist once, twice, watching the amber liquid swirl. She had witnessed many amazing things in her life, things very few others could claim to have seen, but at that moment the ocher vortex in her glass topped them all. She could claim it was the light refraction within the glass, could spew of atmospheric and gravitational requirements to create a vortex, hell, she could probably explain the distilling process of the liquor in her drink. But she wasn’t, and didn’t, because she wasn’t thinking about any of those things, and sadly she had no one to lie to anyway.
Dr. Temperance Brennan did wonder when she had started drinking hard liquor on a regular basis. Her usual drink of choice was wine or, occasionally, a beer, but not of late. Not for awhile. She wasn’t in the habit of drinking alone, or at least that had been the case at one point. Now? It was the case more often than not. But then, alone seemed to be something she was becoming reacquainted with.
Brennan used to drink with her partner, FBI Special Agent Seeley Booth. After they solved a case, the two of them would share a drink, a sort of celebration at successfully ridding the world of one more criminal, but not any more. Now, Booth generally went home to his girlfriend, blithely bidding her goodnight.
Brennan wondered if he shared a celebratory drink with Hannah, but then tried not to think about it at all.
She couldn’t figure out if she was jealous of Hannah, or sad to lose Booth, but maybe she just hated the fact that she was alone again. Because for all her bravado and self-reliance, it was the one thing she didn’t want to be. Maybe before, before Booth and his lessons of the heart, and his declarations of nothing would change between them. Maybe then she could have done alone.
Still, the isolation had its benefits. Alone, Brennan didn’t have to hide her fear and uncertainty. Alone she didn’t have to put on a false smile for there was no one to see her performance. Alone was sometimes easier and somewhere in Brennan’s many thoughts, she knew it shouldn’t be.
She considered the possibility that she was becoming a bit maudlin in her unintended isolation. The thought of her life somehow coming full circle whispered in the back of her mind, with a voice much like her own saying, “some people don’t get to have families.” Her friends hadn’t actually left her, not physically. But she felt left behind none the less. Brennan considered the probability of similar events happening within thirty-three years to the same individual before she began to worry about her own adaptability.
It seemed her friends had all adapted to life, grown while she remained the same. Or maybe not, she thought with a sardonic curl of her lips as she glanced at the near empty glass in her hand. Lifting her drink to her lips, Brennan downed the last of the amber liquid, embracing the burn as it coursed down her throat.
I have changed from wine to whiskey, she thought, the voice in her head self-deprecating. And I drink alone now, not with friends. A rational voice tried to tell her that wasn’t true adaptability but Brennan just lifted the decanter to her breast, hugging it like some desperate lover as she contemplated the empty nature of her glass.
With a soul crushing sigh, Brennan placed the decanter on her counter, her fingertips tracing the intricacies of the crystal. It would be there tomorrow, like the loneliness. Embracing her, consoling her…damning her. With that thought she hastily unscrewed the bottle and poured herself one last drink.
“Drink up,” she told herself, “tomorrow’s another day.” And with that preamble, Brennan downed the fiery liquid in one gulp before roughly placing the glass on the table. Yes, tomorrow was another day, just as today was.