fic: and we were lovers (now we can't be friends) (bones; cam/sweets)
Title: and we were lovers (now we can’t be friends)
Author: empressearwig
Pairing/Fandom: Cam/Sweets (mentions of Sweets/Daisy and Cam/Paul); Bones
Spoilers: All aired episodes, plus the promo for 6x16
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~1300
Disclaimer: I own nothing, this is all for fun. This hasn't happened. Yet. Etc.
Summary: Cam and Sweets and what it means to be happy.
Author's Notes: For the lovely and talented torigates on the occasion of her birth. Well, technically it's an early birthday present, but the sentiment remains the same. Thanks to cashewdani for looking at this for me.
After two hours of playing cards with Wendell, Sweets goes looking for Cam. He knows he shouldn't -- things between them aren't in a place where he can just casually seek her out, not for company, not for conversation, even though he misses talking to her more than he's ever missed talking to anyone, his parents excepted. But if he keeps playing gin rummy with Wendell, he's going to be in debt for the rest of his life, and Hodgins and Angela disappeared to do things that Sweets doesn't much want to think about, and more than anything else, Sweets doesn't want to be alone.
So he goes looking for Cam and he finds her right where he expected to, sitting in her dark office, staring out the window.
He knocks on the open door before stepping inside and saying, "I thought I might find you here."
She starts, just a little, just enough for him to be able to tell, before turning around to face him. "Dr. Sweets," she says. "Have you heard anything?"
He smiles, sadly, and for the first time all night he is grateful for the darkness. He remembers when she'd call him Dr. Sweets and the teasing lilt to her voice would make the formal words sound like an endearment. Now it just sounds cold, words better spoken between strangers or colleagues, not people who - well, people who were more than that. He never had been able to figure out what they were.
He shakes his head and steps further into her office. "No," he says. "I suppose that means you haven't either."
She lets out a heavy sigh, and sinks into her desk chair. "No." She gestures towards the chairs opposite her desk. "Sit, please."
"Big plans?" he asks as he sits, trying to make it sound like small talk, and having it come out sounding sharp and jealous instead. He doesn't have any right to be jealous, not when Daisy's sure to be waiting for him at his apartment, waiting with worried eyes and open arms, when he's finally set free, but he can't help it. He is.
If she notices (and he's sure that she does), Cam doesn't acknowledge it. "Sort of," she answers, but she looks away when she says it and he knows what she's not saying.
He wants her to say it. "With Paul?"
"I - why would you - yes," she says, and it's clear from the way that her fingers have twisted themselves together, just how flustered she is. "Why did you make me say that?"
He shrugs and she nods and he thinks that's that, but then she shakes her head.
"No," she says.
"No?"
"No," she repeats, leaning forward in her chair. She looks angry, and Sweets is surprised. Anger is an emotion that Cam saves, that she hoards for the people she trusts the most. He didn't know he was still one of them. "That's not good enough."
He wants to laugh, and so he does, a tight, angry one. "What do you want me to say, Cam?"
"I want you to tell me why you made me say that. You didn't want to hear it and I didn't want to say it, so why did you make me say it?"
He's shaking his head before she even finishes, as if he can deny her words with a mere gesture. "You're wrong. I did want to hear it. I needed to hear it."
"Why?" she asks, and it's clear that she doesn't understand. Well, that makes two of them. He doesn't really understand either.
He shrugs, and he looks away. He doesn't know what to say. Knowing what to say is his job, but with her - with her, the words never came the way they were supposed to. He thinks that probably meant something. He thinks that probably means something.
"Lance."
The sound of his name, the name she so rarely uses, makes him look back. There's an expression on her face that does doesn't know, that he's never seen before.
It makes him want to tell the truth. So he does.
"I miss you," he says simply. Brokenly. "I miss you so much, Cam."
She opens her mouth as if to speak, but then closes it again in an instant, tongue darting out to wet her lips. She stares at him and he stares at her and when she finally speaks, it's in a whisper. "I miss you too."
It's just four words, but he feels something lift from his chest, a weight he hadn't even known was there. It makes him ask a question that he has no right to ask.
"Are you happy?" he asks. "With Paul, I mean."
"Are you happy with Daisy?" she asks in lieu of an answer, with a smile that's tinged with sadness.
"I know I should be," he says.
"That's not an answer."
"I know that, too. And you didn't answer my question."
"I know I should be," she says, turning his words back on him. "I want to be."
He gets up from his chair and circles the desk, leaning back against it, taking one of her hands in his. It always amazed him how small her hands were, so small, and yet so competent, so steady, so capable.
"I want you to be happy," he says, stroking his thumb across the inside of her wrist. "I hope you know that."
She reaches her free hand up to touch his cheek. "I've never doubted that. Not for a second."
He can't stop himself from leaning into her hand, and her fingers trace along his jaw, back into his curls. His breath catches in his throat. "Cam," he says, and that's all he can say, because somehow they've met in the middle and her lips are on his and he stops breathing all together.
It has been six months since he kissed Cam, kissed her goodbye for the last time outside the Founding Fathers. It feels like yesterday. He still knows her touch and he still knows her taste, the noise she makes when his tongue brushes the roof of her mouth. He tugs on the hand that he's still holding and pulls her forward so that she's standing between his legs. It's not enough. He wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her closer yet.
He needs to touch her, needs it to make himself believe that this is real. It hasn't been real more times than he wants to admit, even to himself. He doesn't want this to be one of those times.
Her fingers dig into his shoulder and she changes the angle of the kiss, nipping at his lower lip. It hurts for just a second, and this is how he knows that it's really happening.
He knows it too, when Cam steps back and looks at him with regret. He's seen that look too many times, knows it too well. He knows when it's real.
"Lance," she starts, and he shakes his head.
"Don't do that," he says. "Please, just, don't do that."
She nods.
They stand there, in the dark, staring at each other for he doesn't know how long. The look on Cam's face doesn't change, and finally he sighs.
"I should go," he says.
She nods again and takes another step back.
He takes the five steps to leave, but pauses at the door. "I want you to be happy," he says, but he doesn't look back over his shoulder. "I just wish it could be with me."
He leaves and she doesn't stop him. The power comes back on an hour later.
Author: empressearwig
Pairing/Fandom: Cam/Sweets (mentions of Sweets/Daisy and Cam/Paul); Bones
Spoilers: All aired episodes, plus the promo for 6x16
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~1300
Disclaimer: I own nothing, this is all for fun. This hasn't happened. Yet. Etc.
Summary: Cam and Sweets and what it means to be happy.
Author's Notes: For the lovely and talented torigates on the occasion of her birth. Well, technically it's an early birthday present, but the sentiment remains the same. Thanks to cashewdani for looking at this for me.
After two hours of playing cards with Wendell, Sweets goes looking for Cam. He knows he shouldn't -- things between them aren't in a place where he can just casually seek her out, not for company, not for conversation, even though he misses talking to her more than he's ever missed talking to anyone, his parents excepted. But if he keeps playing gin rummy with Wendell, he's going to be in debt for the rest of his life, and Hodgins and Angela disappeared to do things that Sweets doesn't much want to think about, and more than anything else, Sweets doesn't want to be alone.
So he goes looking for Cam and he finds her right where he expected to, sitting in her dark office, staring out the window.
He knocks on the open door before stepping inside and saying, "I thought I might find you here."
She starts, just a little, just enough for him to be able to tell, before turning around to face him. "Dr. Sweets," she says. "Have you heard anything?"
He smiles, sadly, and for the first time all night he is grateful for the darkness. He remembers when she'd call him Dr. Sweets and the teasing lilt to her voice would make the formal words sound like an endearment. Now it just sounds cold, words better spoken between strangers or colleagues, not people who - well, people who were more than that. He never had been able to figure out what they were.
He shakes his head and steps further into her office. "No," he says. "I suppose that means you haven't either."
She lets out a heavy sigh, and sinks into her desk chair. "No." She gestures towards the chairs opposite her desk. "Sit, please."
"Big plans?" he asks as he sits, trying to make it sound like small talk, and having it come out sounding sharp and jealous instead. He doesn't have any right to be jealous, not when Daisy's sure to be waiting for him at his apartment, waiting with worried eyes and open arms, when he's finally set free, but he can't help it. He is.
If she notices (and he's sure that she does), Cam doesn't acknowledge it. "Sort of," she answers, but she looks away when she says it and he knows what she's not saying.
He wants her to say it. "With Paul?"
"I - why would you - yes," she says, and it's clear from the way that her fingers have twisted themselves together, just how flustered she is. "Why did you make me say that?"
He shrugs and she nods and he thinks that's that, but then she shakes her head.
"No," she says.
"No?"
"No," she repeats, leaning forward in her chair. She looks angry, and Sweets is surprised. Anger is an emotion that Cam saves, that she hoards for the people she trusts the most. He didn't know he was still one of them. "That's not good enough."
He wants to laugh, and so he does, a tight, angry one. "What do you want me to say, Cam?"
"I want you to tell me why you made me say that. You didn't want to hear it and I didn't want to say it, so why did you make me say it?"
He's shaking his head before she even finishes, as if he can deny her words with a mere gesture. "You're wrong. I did want to hear it. I needed to hear it."
"Why?" she asks, and it's clear that she doesn't understand. Well, that makes two of them. He doesn't really understand either.
He shrugs, and he looks away. He doesn't know what to say. Knowing what to say is his job, but with her - with her, the words never came the way they were supposed to. He thinks that probably meant something. He thinks that probably means something.
"Lance."
The sound of his name, the name she so rarely uses, makes him look back. There's an expression on her face that does doesn't know, that he's never seen before.
It makes him want to tell the truth. So he does.
"I miss you," he says simply. Brokenly. "I miss you so much, Cam."
She opens her mouth as if to speak, but then closes it again in an instant, tongue darting out to wet her lips. She stares at him and he stares at her and when she finally speaks, it's in a whisper. "I miss you too."
It's just four words, but he feels something lift from his chest, a weight he hadn't even known was there. It makes him ask a question that he has no right to ask.
"Are you happy?" he asks. "With Paul, I mean."
"Are you happy with Daisy?" she asks in lieu of an answer, with a smile that's tinged with sadness.
"I know I should be," he says.
"That's not an answer."
"I know that, too. And you didn't answer my question."
"I know I should be," she says, turning his words back on him. "I want to be."
He gets up from his chair and circles the desk, leaning back against it, taking one of her hands in his. It always amazed him how small her hands were, so small, and yet so competent, so steady, so capable.
"I want you to be happy," he says, stroking his thumb across the inside of her wrist. "I hope you know that."
She reaches her free hand up to touch his cheek. "I've never doubted that. Not for a second."
He can't stop himself from leaning into her hand, and her fingers trace along his jaw, back into his curls. His breath catches in his throat. "Cam," he says, and that's all he can say, because somehow they've met in the middle and her lips are on his and he stops breathing all together.
It has been six months since he kissed Cam, kissed her goodbye for the last time outside the Founding Fathers. It feels like yesterday. He still knows her touch and he still knows her taste, the noise she makes when his tongue brushes the roof of her mouth. He tugs on the hand that he's still holding and pulls her forward so that she's standing between his legs. It's not enough. He wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her closer yet.
He needs to touch her, needs it to make himself believe that this is real. It hasn't been real more times than he wants to admit, even to himself. He doesn't want this to be one of those times.
Her fingers dig into his shoulder and she changes the angle of the kiss, nipping at his lower lip. It hurts for just a second, and this is how he knows that it's really happening.
He knows it too, when Cam steps back and looks at him with regret. He's seen that look too many times, knows it too well. He knows when it's real.
"Lance," she starts, and he shakes his head.
"Don't do that," he says. "Please, just, don't do that."
She nods.
They stand there, in the dark, staring at each other for he doesn't know how long. The look on Cam's face doesn't change, and finally he sighs.
"I should go," he says.
She nods again and takes another step back.
He takes the five steps to leave, but pauses at the door. "I want you to be happy," he says, but he doesn't look back over his shoulder. "I just wish it could be with me."
He leaves and she doesn't stop him. The power comes back on an hour later.