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"I don't understand," she says.
It's a catchphrase, by now. If she were anyone else, Booth would say it's their little private joke. But Temperance Brennan never jokes - and on the rare instances when she tries it, he never gets it soon enough. It's a wonder they've been able to connect at all, when she always seems to be five steps ahead of him.
But he tries to keep up, and if he points it out, Tempe will try and slow down.
(He doesn't do that often, though. He likes watching her march on to the sound of her own drum.)
"Wait for me," he repeats.
Her eyes narrow, and Booth can tell that her quick brain is going through all the possible scenarios. True to form, she settles on the worst one. "What if you don't come back?"
He sighs and makes a show of dropping his head on her shoulder. "For God's sake, sweetheart. Not every soldier deployed overseas dies in action."
"I know that. Statistically-"
"Tempe," he stops her before she can launch onto that subject. Ever since she understood that he was serious about joining the army, Temperance has devoted herself to research. He has the feeling he's better informed than most of his superiors on the conditions of life on a battlefield. "I'm coming back to the States."
"You can't promise that."
"Yes, Tempe." He kisses the edge of her jaw. "Yes, I can."
It says a lot about their relationship that Temperance doesn't argue that point further. With her backstory - and Booth is aware that she's only told him the highlights - he can't blame her for not trusting people to stick around.
She shifts a little, looking suddenly uncomfortable, and her voice drops to an abashed whisper. (Abashed. It astounds him, sometimes, that Temperance Brennan allows him to see her weaker side.) "But will you come back to me?"
Booth reminds himself not to rush into reassurances. Tempe needs facts. "Have I ever lied to you?" He rises onto his elbows to meet her eyes, and waits for her head shake. "I just asked you to wait for me. Would I do that if I didn't mean it?"
"Before a major change in their lives, people often attempt to cling to what they know. I think-"
"Not 'people', Tempe. Me. Seeley Booth." And he asks again, "Would I lie to you?"
"Not willingly," she allows. "You believe in honoring your promises."
In the world of Temperance Brennan, that might be one of the highest compliments available.
"Yes, exactly." And he lies down next to her again. "Now that I have asked the question, and we've determined that I mean it, well... I need an answer, Tempe."
It's gratifying that, now that her doubts are laid to rest, a smile grows quickly on her face. "I don't believe in long-distance relationships," she tells him.
Booth grins at that. He's learned to listen to her expressions rather than her words. "You didn't believe in any kind of relationship when we met, sweetheart. It'll grow on you."
Her smile doesn't waver, but her nails dig in at his side. "I've told you not to call me that. It's demeaning."
"'Sweetheart'?" She has the strangest ideas. But if she's changing the subject, it means she's content with the outcome of the last one. That makes him happy enough to indulge her. "Fine. We can always go back to where we started." He smirks, feeling mischievous, and whispers. "Long time no seen... Bones."
Her nose crinkles at the hated nickname. "That's awful."
"It's your own fault," he tells her, and to curtail her protest he continues, "If you'd taken better care of yourself during finals two years ago, I wouldn't have found a pale girl, all skin and bones in the library."
"I was studying!"
"You weren't eating," he retorts.
She glares at him but, as usual, relents before long. "I have no idea why you approached me," she says in a huff. "It's obvious you're attracted to more voluptuous women."
"You're voluptuous enough, Tempe." He takes the chance to take a long, approving look along her body. "Well, you are now. Then you needed someone to feed you."
"Why would you...?"
And Temperance, the girl who doesn't care about anyone's opinion, blushes and falters when asking why he had been attracted to her.
"Well. There was the coffee." Which he had accidentally poured all over her - and worse yet, over her notes. The resulting exchange had gotten the both of them expelled from the library. Temperance had been furious. It definitely had not been an auspicious first meeting. "I felt I owed you dinner."
"Which you didn't."
"But then I realized you needed dinner-"
"Which I certainly did not."
"-and I made the mistake of telling you so, and then you looked at me with this affronted look - yes, exactly like that-" and he twists to kiss her nose "-and I couldn't resist those blue eyes."
"I thought you were an empty-headed charmer."
"You're at your best reading dead people, honey." When she doesn't protest the new endearment, he smiles. "Aren't you glad you were wrong?"
Temperance presses herself closer to him, and before he can savor that closeness, she has lifted herself on top of him, leaving a tangle of sheets between them. "In this one instance," she tells him, looking him over with a blend of pride and hunger and, yes, fondness as well, "I believe I am indeed satisfied that my first assessment lacked a full perspective."
He loves when she uses four-syllable words. With that look in her eyes, they're a prelude to foreplay.
"My answer, Tempe," he reminds her before they get sidetracked.
Her expression changes enough to allow him a glimpse of anxiety.
"I'll come back to you," he promises again. "I just need to know whether you'll be waiting. Hell," he laughs, aware that he can't imagine a future without Temperance Brennan, "I might come even if you send me a thousand Dear John letters."
That makes her frown. "I don't-"
He presses a finger against her lips. Just this once, he doesn't want to hear it. "Yes, Tempe. You do understand."
Temperance sighs. "You believe you love me," she says.
"I believe you love me too."
She shakes her head, but doesn't deny it. "And if you're wrong?"
Booth lifts himself enough to gather her in his arms, and whispers against her hair. "And if I'm not?" After a few moments of silence he asks again, for a third time, "Wait for me, Tempe."
And the third time must indeed be the charm, because Temperance relaxes against him and, at last, nods.
"Good." He closes his eyes, relieved of a weight he hadn't even noticed he'd been carrying. If she'd said no.... He still would have left, but he'd have regretted it for a long time. "That's really good."
"I hope so," she says, then shakes her head and meets his eye. "No. I don't. But... I think I trust you to make it work."
It's not an admission of love. But, for her, trust is even more sparingly given. "I'll need some help from this end," he warns her, satisfied when she nods. "Then it's a done deal: the two of us will make this work."
Her smile is slow, but sincere. "You really believe that."
Booth trails her fingers along her cheek, her neck, her hairline... He'll miss her so much. So do you, Tempe, he thinks fondly, but doesn't say it aloud. It would only make her nervous. Or you would never have agreed to try.
The End
15/05/15