Revisiting a Big Mistake
By: Lesera128
Rated: M
Disclaimer: I own nothing... Obviously. Just playing in someone else's sandbox for a bit.
Summary: Mixing alcohol and sex can have disastrous consequences, especially when a face from the past returns with a secret that threatens Booth and Brennan's new relationship and recent marriage. Set post-"Blackout in the Blizzard." Very AU.
A/N: Having learned from past mistakes by now, I guess this is the part where I need to set some things up for readers. So, here goes... I like to tell stories. I like to tell interesting stories. I know in advance where this plot is going. If you want to keep reading, cool. If not, happy fic hunting. For those who are reading this and don't know by now, I have never written a story where Booth and Brennan didn't end up together someway, somehow. I always label my stories properly, even if it seems like things don't make much sense at the start. My writing's like that… slow to build, but then very, very fast once you reach the culmination and dénouement. This story will contain the following: drama, mystery, romance, angst (some, althought not a horrible amount, and definitely not to the levels of my other stories, but conflict drives plot!), not too much on the fluff, but definitely yes, on the sex (as you will see if you scroll down a bit). This story assumes that all the canon events that happened up to and including season 6's episode 6x16 "The Blackout in the Blizzard." Yes, that does include Maluku, Afghanistan, Hannah, Lauren Eames, the proposal, the ultimatum, and the elevator talk. After that, since I am the Queen of Bones' AU fan fics, it firmly veers off into AU-land (to quote Dr. Emmett Brown) after they burned the dates on pieces of paper, an event interrupted the original time line from that point forward, creating a new reality that diverged from canon at that point in time. Still here? Okay, good. I hate long author's notes at the beginning of fics, and this one is already long enough as is. Let's get cracking….~
Prologue – Just Casual Sex?
MARCH 2011
It was wrong, and he knew it. But, he was selfish and wanted to do it anyway.
It had been so long since he did something like this… did something just to *feel* good. Besides, it would be fun, and if there was one thing he hadn't done in a long time it was something *fun*. Being responsible? What had that gotten him? A broken heart, that was what. But, now things were starting to get better. Time did that. But, so many responsibilities still weighed on him, demanded his time. He rarely took time for himself anymore. He was serious, too serious, and it was time he changed that fact. Even if it was just for one night, even if it was just for a few hours, he *needed* to do *something* that was *different*. And, besides… she was pretty. Hell, she'd always been pretty. From the very first time he had ever seen her, he thought she was one of the hottest women he'd ever seen. So, yes… he was handsome, she was beautiful, and for once, they both deserved to have some fun. He was so tired of fighting against his nature. He was selfish – always had been, always would be. It was time he stopped pretending otherwise, and take a chance. He was good at doing that, running at the ridge for all he was worth. He'd forgotten that somehow over the past few years. It was time he remembered and gave things a shot.
The wood of the bar seemed cool to the touch of his palm. Cool and smooth. He pressed his hands firmly up against the edge of the wood as he stood. Signaling the bartender, he only waited a moment before getting the younger man's attention. After all, he *was* a regular here, having spent a lot of money over the countless hours he'd spent drinking at the bar since he'd moved to DC.
Smiling, he nodded in the direction of the woman that sat just a little bit away from him.
Purposely raising his voice's tone so that it could be heard over the din of the loud bar, he told the bartender, "Whatever the lady's drinking, the next one's on my tab."
At this, she inclined her head at him with a curious look. She didn't know why he was acting this way… different from how he normally behaved. She knew him well enough to know that he was rarely this… animated. But, it *had* been a long night… and her date had stood her up. A lot of that had seemed to be happening… since… well, since that night in the rain. Her luck, if she believed in luck, had been rotten. But, seeing him here almost seemed… providential. And, so, even though they had spent most of the past few hours in silence, she inclined her head at him as the bartender returned with a glass of red wine.
"Thanks!" she called to him. "You didn't have to do that. But, it was sweet, so thank you."
"My pleasure," he grinned, raising his glass of scotch to her in a salute before quickly downing its contents.
Somehow over the course of the next several hours, a blur of events passed by his eyes. Now *this* he remembered. This part was one of the things he loved best about not having to be the responsible one, not having to try to live up to expectations and be perfect. Yes, he remembered this feeling, and he really, *really* liked it.
But, the other images now playing in his mind wouldn't be there in the morning... no, not really.
He wouldn't remember that it had started to rain earlier in the evening, and then, at some point, the rain turned to this irritating type of slush that wasn't either rain or snow, but annoyingly in between. He wouldn't remember how easily he started to laugh at her very bad jokes as his inhibitions continued to disappear (thankfully!). He also wouldn't recall the fact that she didn't break his arm when he leaned in from where he sat next to her on his bar stool and put his hand on her hip. He also wouldn't remember the look of surprise she gave him when he moved his hand from her hip down to her ass as he copped a feel. And, he wouldn't remember how the idea to call a cab had been hers or that she was the one who paid for it when they went back to his apartment.
The only part that he *might* later admit that he regretted was that, in the morning, he wouldn't clearly and precisely remember the first time they had finally slept together.
At the time, though, he thought he had been a fairly masterful lover. As soon as they staggered into his apartment, the door slamming shut between them as they shed various pieces of clothing en route to his bed, he thanked God that he was so skillful at multitasking. Her lips were soft, much softer than he thought they'd be. He'd spent enough time looking at them over the past few months. But, what surprised him the most was her hair. It was long and shiny and soft and smelled good. Her hair smelled like… flowers. Girl flowers. But, in a good way. He'd been surprised by that. She didn't seem like the type who'd favor such a frivolous type of shampoo. He'd always pictured her as more… practical. But, there it was… her hair smelled like girl flowers… and it turned him on in a way he hadn't been turned on in a long, long time.
For her part, she was as eager as him for what both knew was going to happen in fairly short order. He was good looking, and always had been, and she hadn't gotten laid in a very, very long time it seemed. And, the way he looked at her, it was *almost* as if she could imagine it was the way she might really have been looked at if this was happening for any other reason than the fact that he was drunk, she had been stood up, both of them were interested, unattached (although not by either one's preference or choice), in the same place at the same time, and in desperate need of a good fuck. But, for now, his look was close enough to the one that she really wanted to see that she could pretend it was real. And, so, aggressive as she usually was where sexual gratification was concerned, she took the lead once they staggered into his apartment.
They were able to divest themselves of their clothing in fairly short order. Along the way, they continued to kiss, lick, touch, and tease – although neither one of them really needed the extra stimulation. By the time she was pushing him onto the bed, both of them were quite ready for what naturally came next in the logical progression of such events. He seemed content to let her control the pace of things as he moved toward the center of the bed, and she followed. Straddling his naked hips, moving her hand just a bit to adjust things so that it was perfect, when she thrust herself down on top of him, it was very, very gratifying. It only took her three or four movements before she felt herself tightening around him, not calling out his name, but unable to help herself as she did let out an involuntary moan of satisfaction. For his part, he needed just a bit more, and didn't bother to wait for her to come back to her senses as the after effects of her orgasm still made coherent thought a bit difficult to achieve. Rolling them over so that he was on top and able to pump into her at a more controlled angle, it was only a minute or two later that his grunts gave way to a gasp of his own relief. Sweaty and tired and ready to sleep, he rolled away from her quickly. While both of them lay next to each other, trying to regain their breaths, neither saying a word, nor either one realizing at the time that, in their haste, they had not bothered with a condom.
The next morning, he awoke with a bitch of a hangover, his head feeling like it was wrapped in a thick swath of cotton bandages. He did remember some vague recollection of the previous evening's happenings when he realized that upon waking up, he wasn't alone in his usually cold bed. He would later recall how warm she felt then, pliable limbs entangled with his, her long hair draped over his pillows. He would also recall how she gave him this soft smile of greeting when she woke up to find him staring at her in wonder. She hadn't left. It hadn't been a dream. And, for some reason, he was unusually and inexplicably pleased by that fact.
Despite his hangover, he seemed more than ready and willing to acquiesce to her overtures when she came closer, pulled him on top of her, and initiated another excellent round of very satisfying morning sex. And, once again, neither one of them bothered to notice that they had again neglected to use any type of contraception. A few hours later, when he awoke a second time, his head still pounding, but hurting just a little less than before, this time he did wake up alone. His bed was cold, and he was alone, and she was gone.
Going out into the kitchen to make a fresh pot of coffee, he didn't immediately see the hastily scribbled note on a torn piece of notebook paper that sat on the counter. However, after the coffee started to brew, he had downed two aspirin and a couple of big glasses of water, he finally noticed the note. And, when he read it, he smiled a smile that his entire family was known for… even if no one was there to see it.
-TBC-
