Always There by Seralis

Summary: Slightly fluffy look from Booth's perspective on his relationship with Brennan, in the context of the finale events.

Spoilers: The Woman In Limbo, Season One.

He had watched, his careful mask cracked only by his frown, as she moved towards him, accepting his kiss with pleasure. For the brief moment the couple’s eyes closed, he allowed his irritation to show.

The feeling only grew worse when he was informed that this guy, this David, had been allowed to read her book. The same book she refused to let him see. Then David’s tease about her notes had her running back to her office, and Booth’s annoyance with this guy soared. What was so good about him anyway? What made him so special?

He remembered being there when they first met, face to face, remembered the smile that had blossomed on both their faces, remembered how she’d seemed to forget he was there, despite the fact that there had only been three people in the tiny room. It had stung, just a little, to see her interest in other men. Not that he wanted her attention. Not like that. His irritation lay in his concern for her well-being, not his own desire for her. Right?
The point was, he reminded himself for the thousandth time, that he was the one she confided in, the one who was there for her at times like this, when her world was falling apart. He saw the gratitude in her eyes, mingling with the raw pain and shock as the truth of her parents’ disappearance slowly unravelled. Right then, sitting on her sofa beside her, the remains of their dinner scattered on the table, he wanted nothing more than to protect her, if she would let him.

From doctors that made snide comments about her PhD, from bullets sent her way, from weird voodoo amnesia, from traitorous agents, from her own past.

And slowly, she was letting him.

He was the person she always got mad at, always had to have the last word over. The person she called for help, the one she could rely on, no matter what. The one she let into her home at midnight, however reluctantly. The offer of food probably helped. He smiled as he read the tiny slip of paper, supposedly prophesying his fortune, that slipped out of it’s cookie capsule.

Good things come to those who wait.

He was the one she listened to, even when she pretended she didn’t care for his opinion, a fact he was slowly coming to realize.

There was no ignoring the smug pride in his knowledge that it was he standing here with her and Russ, and not her boyfriend. He that she looked to for solace, for a story that would make things just a little bit better, that tiny shred of shining hope.

Booth’s heart stopped for just a fraction of a second when she opened her fridge door, releasing a tense breath when she closed it again uneventfully. He really had to stop doing that.

His mind at relative ease, he glanced down at the thick document on the counter, his eye drawn to the crossed out title. It was her book. Sneaking a quick glance at her to make sure she didn’t see, he flipped the page over, hungrily devouring the two lines on the following page. Two lines that brought a smile to his face that he could not, didn’t want to, suppress.

This book is dedicated to my partner and friend,

Special Agent Seeley Booth

As he clinked bottles with his two companions, he felt the tension and emotion of the last two nights slip away momentarily, enjoying the warm feeling of seeing those words on the white paper, written out in clear black type.

Then she checked her messages. And he watched as her world came tumbling down all over again.

End.

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