My season 3 posts end here, but it's just the beginning


I couldn't believe that it was Zack and Cam couldn't believe it either. It hurt her, but it stunned me. I was in a state of disbelief, while she had went straight to depression after we'd left the lab. There she had been angry, now I watched as she knocked back shots at the bar. I probably should have encouraged her to stop or slow down, but I didn't, I just watched. She had just finished a shot when she grabbed for me, and I allowed her to pull me in for a sloppy kiss. She was grinning when we separated and asked if we could go home. Her tone was rather suggestive, and though I wasn't in the mood, I nodded in agreement nonetheless, I needed to get her out of here. I threw some bills onto the bar before leading Camille outside. She grabbed for my keys.

"There is no way I'm letting you drive Cam," I chuckled. It took a minute, but she eventually nodded in agreement and slid into the passenger seat. I had spent our time at the bar sipping at a beer, that I'd found distasteful rather than enjoyable, I hadn't even finished half of it, while Cam had finished off shot after shot. While I drove her back to my apartment in silence, Camille had entertained herself by placing her hand on my thigh. I knew what she wanted, but tonight that wasn't going to happen. Once I had parked and lead her upstairs into my apartment, I knew I was going to have to tell her no, and that wasn't going to be an easy thing to do. Her hands were wandering, her lips latched onto my neck, and for a moment I was lost in the sensations that she invoked. We'd been intoxicated together quite frequently, each of those times had led us to bed, but something was different this time.

She was drunk and I wasn't. It would be wrong, I would be taking advantage, and suddenly that was all that mattered. I pulled back.

"We can't do this Camille." My words were soft and she accepted them as I kissed her cheek. I helped her out of her clothes and into a tank top and sweatpants. As I helped redress her it struck me that they were her clothes. Her clothes that were in my drawers with my clothes. That meant something. I tried to shake those thoughts from my head as we slipped into bed together.

"I wanted to do this so many times during this case," She murmured as she slipped her arms around me. "I thought the Booth thing was best left to Angela though." I wrapped my arms around her and she smiled. "This is the kind of comfort I need tonight," She whispered. We laid there pressed firmly together, breasts against breasts, legs tangled, arms embracing, as her breathing slowed and she dozed off leaving me with my thoughts.

The sweatpants and tank top Camille was wearing were not the only clothes she had in my apartment. She had work clothes here too, I'd seen one of her blazers in my closet when I was getting dressed that morning. I knew she had a pair of jeans here too, because I'd threatened to undress her at work if she wore them in the lab again. Did I have clothes at her place? I knew the answer. I had clothes in her closet too. I didn't know what it all meant, maybe we weren't just having sex. The realization that things might be more serious than I had thought scared me. I tried not to think about what I had with Cam as I watched her chest rise and fall gently as she slept, and soon I joined her in sleep.