Authors Note (If you wanna hear a semi-amusing story, it's worth a read:) A while ago I introduced some friends, sunsetdreamer and RositaLG among them, to the glory of The Bloggess and her Big Metal Chicken. If you don't know it, Google it. Now that's a really funny story.
My two fellow writers found the Big Metal Chicken so hilarious they promptly purchased Little Metal Chickens. The point of the Little Metal Chicken is to hold Post It Notes, little messages of education.
Around the same time I wrote a story that had glitter in it. A small one shot, A Moment, that apparently made people all giddy, those two ladies included. I was told that I should write more stories with glitter.
Challenge accepted.
I wrote another Moment that contained glitter and was quite pleased with myself.
And then there was sunsetdreamer, who didn't feel my show of glitter was enough.
"I think you should write glitter AND smut."
"You want it, you write it." I tweeted back.
At which point I received a tweet back that contained no words, but a picture; A picture of Little Metal Chicken with a Post-It that said "Glitter Smut FTW!"
I had been commanded by the chicken and I was told that I could not ignore such a demand.
I tried.
But the idea was solidly in my brain. Could I write a decent story that contained both glitter and smut? Because quite frankly, my mind went to strippers and that's just icky.
Command accepted.
The code name for this project? Operation Chicken Command (if you follow me on twitter you've seen this, or its initials OCC and probably wondered what the heck I've been doing)
And so for more than a week now I've been writing at this story bit by bit, working in glitter and smut in a way that I hope will make Little Metal Chicken happy and that everyone else will enjoy as well.
It has glitter, it has smut, but most importantly it has Booth and Brennan, figuring it all out. And then getting busy.
If you love it, it was all my idea.
If you hate it, well then to you I say this:
The Chicken made me do it.
Special thanks to the AMAZING jaded_repartee who has been reading along as I write, suggesting and encouraging and supporting me towards the completion of this fic. More beta props to the incomparable RositaLG for the smutty bits and the talented Baileyjane for fixing up of the rest. I don't know how this would have turned out with out the help of all 3 of you.
Let's put this in Season 5, before the 100th. That never happened in Operation Chicken Command world.
Generally speaking, Brennan was not one who gave much credence to the celebration of New Year's Eve. From an anthropological standpoint the passage from one year to the next was important, but individually? She never could see the point. What ever issues, illnesses, troubles or difficulties a person had on December 31st would still be there on January 1st. A new calendar year did nothing to expel any personal problems.
Angela, however, felt differently. Angela said it had more to do with the new year that stretched out in front of a person, allowing for new possibilities; a time to put the past behind you and celebrate the potential for a better twelve months.
Brennan pointed out that she was an anthropologist and she was all about past years.
Angela said that Brennan was wrong if she thought that would fly as an excuse not to attend her New Year's Eve party.
So instead of heading off for a dig over the holidays or spending the evening at home catching up on her reading, she was dressing for an event she really, really didn't want to attend.
She tucked the last strand of hair into place and secured it with a final pin. She was fairly certain she'd hidden the pins well and the style would hold through the night. Her makeup was carefully applied, a bit heavier than her normal day look, with smoky eyes and her high cheekbones highlighted with a bronze-ish glow. Her mother had once taught her that if the first thing someone noticed about you was your makeup then you were wearing too much. She always tried to heed that advice, but felt a party called for a little extra.
She had gone shopping with Angela and the artist and assured her that the deep purple dress she tried on was perfect. She couldn't help but remember that conversation as she slipped the straps over her shoulders now.
"You look hot. You have to buy that. Booth will flip."
"That's not my criteria for a dress, Angela."
"Fine. Any guy would flip if they saw you in that dress. Maybe you shouldn't buy it. You'll look better than me at my own party."
"I can get something else."
"No. You look great. And Booth will love that."
"Ange…"
"Yeah, I know. Whatever. Go put your clothes back on and pay for your dress. I want to hit that boutique across the street."
She put on her earrings, slipped on her shoes and then studied her reflection in the mirror.
She had to smile. She looked good. And secretly, though she'd never admit it to Angela or anyone else, she really did hope that Booth would be pleased by her appearance.
She made her way down to the lobby to wait for her cab to take her to Hodgins' estate. Though they weren't a couple anymore, Hodgins had offered up his home for the party. Angela thought it was sweet. Booth thought it was pathetic.
"Well, I think it's nice."
"Trust me, it's pathetic. And she's using him."
" Wha…he offered!"
"Because she couldn't stop talking about how expensive the hall was. She had to know he would offer up his place. Hell, I knew he would."
"They're friends. He's helping a friend."
"They're exes with some serious history. They are not friends."
"You're friends with Cam."
"And still I wouldn't let her throw a party in my apartment."
"Would you let me throw a party at your place?"
"You don't need to. Your place is bigger."
"That's true. Plus I can afford a hall."
"Yes, you can."
Angela had asked that Brennan not bring her car.
"That way when I'm really drunk after midnight when everyone's gone home and I'm about to make a mistake with Hodgins, you can drag me home in my car without leaving your car behind."
"If you already know you are going to make that mistake, why get really drunk?"
"It's…complicated."
"Not really. Just don't drink so much."
"No, no. I meant… me and Hodgins. We're complicated."
"I don't see what's complicated."
"Do you really want to have a conversation with me about relationships not being as complicated as we think?"
"No."
"Yeah, I didn't think so."
So she stepped in the cab, happy with her appearance, but not looking particularly forward to a mansion full of people and the onerous duty of having to be Angela's babysitter.
When she arrived at the mansion, she paid the driver and tipped him a little extra. Hodgins' estate was a bit out of the way and she imagined he wouldn't pick up a fare to make up for the return trip. The taxi pulled out of the massive driveway and she took a deep breath, already able to hear the music coming from inside the entomologist's enormous home.
"Here goes" she whispered to herself as she walked to gigantic front door and rang the bell.
A man Brennan did not recognize answered the door. "May I take your coat?"
"SWEETIE!" a shrieking Angela came down the long foyer into the entryway and threw her arms around Brennan. "You're here!"
"You are drunk already!" Brennan laughed in spite of herself and returned the hug.
"Oh my god, Brennan, you have no idea." She stepped back and lowered her voice to what she thought was a whisper. "Hodgins like WAY overdid the hosting thing. When I got here I found out he hired two bartenders and has an open bar. He has heat lamps and a fire pit outside with ANOTHER bar and bartender, he constructed a dance floor in his living room, hired a live band in addition to my DJ, and he has this guy" she jerked her head not so subtly "answering the door and taking coats."
"And all that makes you drink?"
"No! What makes me drink is that I feel bad. I feel like I led him on. Maybe he thinks this is the beginning of something for us. It's all very awkward and weird."
"It looks like a very successful party" Brennan commented as she looked past her friend and down towards the main part of the house.
"It totally is."
"Well, that's good, right?"
"Yes. It is good. And now you are here to stop me from sucking face with Hodgins later, or worse, so let the good times roll!" She let out a little squeal and grabbed Brennan's hand, pulling her towards the crowd.
Brennan scanned the crowd desperately for any familiar face. It was just a matter of time before Angela flitted off to chat with someone else and Brennan would be left to fend for herself. She did not enjoy small talk with strangers and most often found that she wasn't particularly good at it, so she preferred to stick with people she already knew.
Sure enough, with another shriek Angela was off, leaving Brennan on her own near the bar.
"A glass of red wine, please" She ordered generically, still scanning the room.
"He's not here yet." Hodgins appeared next to her, a beer in his hand, half yelling over the din.
"I wasn't looking for Booth."
"Right." He flashed a small, crooked grin and took a drink. "Well, Cam is here somewhere and Sweets is over there. I feel weird having him here. I'm pretty sure he's too young to be at one of Angela's parties."
The only thing that appealed to Brennan less than small talk with strangers was small talk with Sweets. These parties always made her feel awkward and a little vulnerable. While she didn't put much stock in psychology, she wasn't about to give Sweets a chance to pick her apart at a party.
"I think I went overboard with the party" the curly haired scientist confessed, half to Brennan and half into his beer. "I think I made her feel weird."
"It's much more than Angela could have managed on her budget." Brennan did her best to be diplomatic. "I'm sure she's very grateful."
"I just…I just got carried away, you know? I want to make her happy."
Brennan nodded. She was somewhat familiar with the feeling.
"I shouldn't have tried so hard. Now I've just freaked her out. She's barely looked at me all night."
She felt sorry for him. She did. Angela was a wonderful friend, but Brennan could only imagine Angela would be a difficult person to love the way that Hodgins did. "She's just busy." She offered.
"She's avoiding me." He took a swig from the bottle he was holding. "And I know that you're here to keep her from doing anything stupid. With me."
It was hard to argue the truth, but she would try. Because as much as Angela was her best friend, she liked Hodgins. He was a good person. And he was hurting. That much was obvious. So she told a truth of her own. "I think…" she struggled to find the right term. "I suspect that I am not here to save Angela from you as much I am here to save Angela from herself."
He chuckled wryly. "Is that psychology?"
"Perhaps." She smiled. "I just think that sometimes we are at our most honest when uninhibited. Especially when we are intoxicated and uninhibited."
"Soooo you're here to keep Angela from being honest?" His eyes light up with a little bit of hope and she realized she'd said too much.
"I'm just here to make sure she gets home…unscathed."
"Okay." He nodded thoughtfully. "Okay. Thanks." He pushed himself off the bar. "And believe me, if she thinks it's over the top now, just wait until she sees what happens at midnight." He grinned and walked away, leaving Brennan to ponder what he meant.
Her eyes swept the room and landed on a couple she was unfamiliar with. She watched their body language, their distance from one another, their mannerisms and was soon so lost in the anthropological aspects of attraction and flirting that she failed to notice that she, too, was being watched.
Booth had been quite glad she had been busy speaking with Hodgins when he came into the party because she looked so gorgeous he was sure his face had given away his every feeling for her.
Her hair was pulled back, but not harshly at all, with some loose curls framing her face and some swirled tendrils on her neck. Her dress was purple and it was just right. He didn't know how else to explain it. It seemed to make her legs go on for days and her skin glow. Even from across the dim room he could see that her eyes seemed bluer than usual. She wore a small smile as she spoke with Hodgins and Booth really thought he'd never seen anything more beautiful than his partner at that moment. He moved surreptitiously to the side, where he could see her but her view of him was blocked. Ever since his coma, his feelings for her had been hard to contain. He needed a minute to regroup before he went to say hello.
He chuckled to himself as he watched her shift into anthropologist mode once Hodgins wandered away. Her face was completely neutral save the small indentation over the bridge of her nose which was from the slight squinting of her eyes. Her head was tilted slightly to the left and he could practically hear her brain working as she watched the couple across the room. He knew her well enough to know she was observing, cataloging and likely comparing what she was seeing to other times and other cultures.
If anyone had told ever told him he'd be completely head over heels for a squint who spent parties dissecting the anthropological behavior of the guests he'd have thought they were nuts.
But here he was, totally crazy for his partner. And, despite what Sweets or anyone else said, it didn't seem to be fading away. Not at all.
All his alerts went up when a man approached the bar, ordered something and then made small talk with Brennan.
"She hates small talk," Booth thought to himself. "Good luck, Buddy."
But then she chatted back and smiled at the man and suddenly Booth found himself crossing the room to where she stood.
"Hey Bones" It came out more of a croak than he meant it to, because up close she was even more gorgeous that he'd imagined.
"Booth!" Her smiled grew exponentially and he reveled in it. "When did you get here?"
"Just now." He decided to play the intimidating partner game and narrowed his eyes. "Who's this?"
Brennan knit her eyebrows, trying to remember if the man standing at the bar had even said his name. "This is…"
"Eric" said the man. "And I was just walking away." He made a quick exit.
"That guy was rude." Booth jerked his thumb towards Eric's back and she rolled her eyes. This little scenario had played out before with slightly different variables and she wasn't at all bothered by it. Not anymore.
"Perhaps he was intimidated by you." She half heartedly scolded.
"Me? I'm the nicest guy in town." He changed the subject, not wanting to talk about another man anymore. "How long have been here?" He signaled the bartender for a beer.
"Not long. These…" she motioned with her hand and the general chaos of the party "…functions are not really my favorite thing."
"Aw, c'mon, Bones. Good music, good friends, I'm sure Hodgins has some good food around here somewhere." He took a swig from the bottle " And good drink! It's a party! Relax and enjoy it."
"Well," she smiled conspiratorially, "I have been enjoying observing that couple over there."
"Oh yeah? And what have you seen?" He glanced at the man and the woman near the massive fireplace.
"Well, she's very interested in him. See how she is standing with her legs slightly apart? It's like an open invitation for sex."
He choked on his beer. "What?"
"Well, in combination with her stance, she's also been touching him quite frequently and tossing her hair back, exposing her neck. These are all things seen quite often throughout many cultures and even in the animal world during various mating rituals. Watch!"
Sure enough, the woman tossed her head back in an exaggerated giggle, reaching out to touch her companion's arm and exposing her neck.
"Wow." Booth never failed to be amazed by her knowledge. "Well, you know, this isn't going to end well for her."
"Why?"
"He's married."
"Really?"
"Sure. Twins on the way. His mother in law is in town, so he's feeling totally left out at home. He doesn't really want to sleep with her, he just likes to flirt. Makes him feel wanted."
"You know him?"
"Nope."
"Then…."
"I'm playing, Bones. People watching on an amateur level. Try it."
"Just…make something up." She sounded doubtful.
"Yeah. Like….that guy over there, standing alone against the wall. What's his story?"
"Wha….that's Sweets! You already know what his story is!"
"C'mon! What's the story with the kid against the wall?"
"Ummmmm. Well, clearly he's very uncomfortable here."
"Why?" Booth prompted.
"He…he's underage."
"He does look a little young to be here."
"Yes. He's quite nervous because he is not legally allowed to drink that beverage he has."
"He probably snuck out his bedroom window to come," offered Booth.
"Yes. He has to go home soon, though, before his parents notice his absence."
"But he wants to meet a hot girl first."
"He'll have to lie about his age."
"He'll probably tell her some story about how he's a psychologist."
"Perhaps. But she won't believe him because he is clearly too young to have such a degree."
"Or maybe she does, but instead of sleeping with him she'll spend all night talking about her Daddy issues."
"And then she'll tell him he reminds her of her baby brother."
"Ouch!" chortled Booth. "That was a good one!"
"What about her?" Brennan nodded her head toward a woman standing alone near the bottom of the staircase.
"She's a spy."
"Really? What kind of spy?"
"An art spy."
"I've never heard of an art spy."
"Well she is one. She's stalking Angela."
"Sounds dangerous."
"It is. She wants to steal that weird painting Angela did last week."
"The Bleeding Toaster?"
"Yeah. What was that?"
"I… have no idea," laughed Brennan.
"You lied! You told her you liked it!"
"No, I didn't! I said it was well done. And it was. It was quite obviously a toaster that was bleeding."
"Why is the toaster bleeding?"
"I'm not sure. I think it's supposed to be social commentary about something."
"Social commentary about appliances?"
"Maybe."
"What's next? A crying microwave?"
"Angela is a wonderful artist."
"If you say so."
"I do."
They went on this way for quite a while, much as they always did, shutting out the world around them, noticing only each other. And then:
"Hey, Bones! Isn't that that song you like?" He pointed over head at the speakers.
"I don't know this song."
"Sure ya do. It's the one you were singing along to in the car the other day."
"That was you!"
"Close enough! Let's dance!"
"Oh, no, these shoes…" she began to protest but he grabbed her hand and pulled her to the dance floor. He couldn't say what made him make this sudden, bold decision, but as he wrapped one arm around her waist and took her other hand in his he was glad that he had.
It wasn't the slowest song in the world, but it certainly wasn't fast, and Brennan was secretly enjoying every moment, despite her initial protest. She allowed herself to be at his whimsical mercy, twirling and laughing as he took the lead. And when the song was over and the DJ smoothly transitioned to the next, Booth didn't miss a beat, slowing down with the tempo of the music.
He pulled her in close, feeling brave within the festive atmosphere, and she melted into him a little, resting her cheek on his shoulder, her face turned into his neck, breathing him in.
"I think I forgot to tell you how amazing you look tonight." He said it so softly that she almost thought she'd imagined it.
She pulled back, but didn't let go and saw in his gaze an honesty and a sincerity and a depth that stole her breath because she knew without question that everything in his eyes was what she'd been fighting within herself for so long.
He swallowed hard. "I just…you look…" the air between them was thick, fraught with things unsaid for years that were all gathered in the perfect storm of that moment.
"Thank you." she whispered.
They continued to sway with the song, just staring at one another, both their hearts beating erratically until it became too much, too telling for her to maintain eye contact and she lowered her cheek back to his shoulder, unwilling to completely break the moment by stepping away, the way her brain was telling her to.
He turned his face into her hair and closed his eyes. This was all getting too damn difficult and he just was not sure how much longer he could pretend he wasn't thoroughly in love with her.
He wasn't sure how much longer he wanted to pretend, either.
She smelled like a heady mixture of lavender shampoo and light perfume and something innately Bonesy. She fit just right in his arms, in the crook of his neck, against his chest, and he'd never been in a place like this before; a place of agony and heaven all at once.
"Champagne?"
The voice of the waiter beside them startled them out of their vacuum and Brennan quickly stepped back just out of arm's length.
"I'm sorry?" she asked, nearly breathless, actively avoiding Booth's gaze.
"It's nearly midnight, ma'am. Champagne for the countdown?"
Booth took the last two flutes off the waiter's tray and had to fight the urge to take the tray and smack the server over the head with it. It was like some kind of backwards fairy tale, with the spell broken before midnight and no real chance at getting the girl.
"Here," he said, finding his voice. He handed her the champagne and motioned to off to the side. "Since we're not dancing we should…"
"Yes. Of course." She brushed past him, back to where they had been before and he followed her.
"Bones…"
"Thank you, Booth." She interrupted him. "I don't generally enjoy parties like this, but you've made this evening quite enjoyable." She seemed to become nearly shy. "I've had a very nice time."
The DJ began the countdown to the New Year in the background. "Ten….nine…"
"Me, too, Bones. It's been really fun."
"Eight…seven…"
"Hodgins told me there is to be something special at midnight."
"Six…five…"
"Really? Wonder what?"
"Four…three…"
She shrugged slightly, looking up as she heard a soft electronic whirring overhead, nearly imperceptible over the crowd.
"Two…one…HAPPY NEW YEAR!" The DJ started up Auld Lang Syne as the whirring produced miniature cannons in the ceiling and confetti and glitter shot all around the room from above and balloons fell to the dance floor.
"This must have been what he meant." said Brennan as glitter floated into her hair and stuck to her skin on it's way down to the floor.
"I'd say his plan worked." Booth crooked his eyebrow and nodded his head at something behind her and she whirled around to see.
"Oh. I think I have failed in my friendship duties." She sounded disappointed in herself as she watched Angela and Hodgins share several rather heated celebratory kisses.
"What?"
She turned back around to face him. "I was supposed to prevent that."
"How?"
"I was supposed to make sure she didn't do….that."
"Angela's a big girl. She can take care of herself."
"I feel as if I have let her down."
"She doesn't look too upset." Booth commented as Angela's famous wide smile overtook her face.
"I would imagine the alcohol and festivities have clouded her judgment."
"Well, ya know, it's tradition to kiss someone at midnight." He shrugged. "Who else was she gonna kiss? Sweets?"
"I think Sweets is doing quite well for himself." Now it was her turn to look past Booth and see a friend participating fully in the celebration.
"Whoa-ho-ho! Yeah. He seems to be doing alright over there." Booth laughed over his shoulder as the young doctor locked lips with an over eager blonde woman.
"What about you?" She asked softly. "Are you sorry you don't have someone to kiss at the New Year?" She reached up and brushed some glitter off his shoulder.
He thought of all the ways he could answer, of all the things he could say. He thought about confessing that she was the only one he wanted to kiss. He thought about saying there was no one he wanted to kiss. He thought about saying that the person he wanted to kiss most of all would probably not want to kiss him in return. He thought about just kissing her.
But instead, he simply opted for a lightweight version of the truth "There really isn't anywhere else I'd rather be, Bones." Subconsciously he leaned into her space, needing her to understand the truth in what he was saying.
She pressed her lips together and gave him that small, lopsided smile he'd come to adore. "Happy New Year, Booth."
He couldn't breathe. She'd closed the distance between then to almost nothing and he wasn't sure if it was purposeful or not, but he could smell the champagne on her breath as it ghosted past his nose.
"Happy New Year, Bones." He was sure the ache in his chest brought on by his proximity to something, someone, he couldn't have.
And then she kissed him.
It wasn't much. Chaste. Almost perfunctory. Her lips were feather light on his and it seemed to be over almost before it began. It was almost unremarkable, a vague nod to celebratory traditions.
Except it was impossible for anything between them to be unremarkable.
"Booth…" she whispered when she pulled away and he knew what was coming next. He knew this was the part where she wrote it off, where she made it less important than it was, where she glossed over it. This was the part where she gave herself a way out.
He put two fingers to her lips. "Just…don't. Don't talk. Don't rationalize. Just…don't okay?"
She nodded and he lowered his fingers from her mouth. Her eyes were filled with something he couldn't name and the only thing he could think was that Sweets was right.
He'd had a taste and he needed more and he didn't know if he could stop it.
So he didn't even try.
He stepped forward to her this time, not just leaning to close the air between them, and put his hand to her face, his fingers behind her ear, his thumb caressing her cheek. He was so close to her now he was almost sure he could hear her heart beating and when her eyes fluttered shut, he took that as his green light.
The second his lips captured hers, the roaring in his ears became overwhelming. The guests, the music, the glitter, the balloons, all just faded away and there was nothing for him but her.
Her mouth was still beneath his and he had a split second of terror that she was going to push him away. But then her soft lips parted and she was thoroughly kissing him in return.
The hand that had been resting on her cheek moved its way to the back of her head, the other circled her waist, pulling her to him. She, in turn, wove one hand into his hair and fisted his shirt with the other, drawing him closer still.
Her tongue swiped softly at his lips, asking for entry. Even if he'd wanted to deny himself that pleasure, he never was good at denying her anything and he granted her access, moaning at the taste of her in his mouth.
His tongue wanted a turn as well and he changed the angle of their kiss without separating them and explored every bit of her mouth until her tongue found his and the kiss became more frantic, more fueled. They didn't need air, they only needed each other.
Until she pulled away.
He couldn't tear his eyes from her. Her lips were swollen, her eyes glossy and her cheeks flushed. Her breathing was rapid, chest heaving and he was absolutely certain he looked no less awed than she did.
"What?" He had to know, his own breath ragged with desire and lack of oxygen. "What's the matter? Don't…don't say this was a mistake."
She shook her head. "I won't. I…I can't."
"Bones?" He was emboldened by her words and moved his mouth close to her ear, his warm breath sending shivers down her spine. "I'm going to kiss you again."
Her eyes slammed shut at the thought of his mouth on her again and she knew, knew that any inclination to stop him had long since left her.
Softly he placed one soft kiss just below her ear, then dropped another on the pulse point in her neck, before he moved back to her mouth and kissed her sweetly, but ended it before she was ready, leaving her eyes to blink open in surprise.
"What's wrong?" She sputtered, feeling almost chilled at the absence of his body heat.
"I have to stop. This is…not here, Bones. I want so much…I want everything with you and from you, and… god… to do everything to you, but…" he motioned around them, "…this is not the right place."
He could see in her eyes the moment she had made her decision, but her words still made his heart beat an entirely new rhythm. "Then we will leave." She smiled and that rhythm became an entire song. "Let me just say goodbye to Angela." She was gone in an instant, leaving him to wonder if any of this was reality.
She found the artist on the dance floor.
"Ange?" Now that Brennan was standing next to her friend she wasn't quite sure what she was going to say.
"Oh, hey, Sweetie!"
"I'm leaving. With…with Booth." She didn't want to explain further and hoped desperately Angela would understand.
"With Booth? Like…like with Booth?"
"Yes."
"Oh my god! Brennan, that's…wait. Wait right here." Angela sprinted off for a few minutes then returned with a key. "Take this. It's the key to Jack's guest house. He told me I could use it tonight if I couldn't make it home, so it's all ready. Go out the backdoor and down the path. When it forks, go left. You can't see it from the main house, but it's there and it's all yours."
"Angela…"
"No, this time please listen to me. If you give yourself that time, that drive back to your place or his place…you will think. And that would be a mistake. Just take this key and stay in this moment with him."
"What about you? Are you okay if I go?"
"Sweetie, I haven't had a drink in 4 hours. I'm very sober."
"But I saw you all over Hodgins!"
"Yeah. I was all over Hodgins. Sober. It's a new year. Time for new beginnings and fresh starts, you know? Now go. Go and be with Booth and get your new beginning, too."
Impulsively Brennan hugged her best friend. "Thanks Ange."
The artist laughed. "You are so welcome. Now go!" She gave Brennan a friendly push away, then clapped her hands in glee, so happy for her friends.
Brennan found Booth standing where she'd left him and, though it was unlike her to be spontaneous, she decided that all of this: what she had done already what she was about to do, it was all unlike her, so she kissed him. Hard.
He responded equally, tongues dueling, breathing not a consideration until they had no choice but to come up for air and they stood, almost nose to nose.
"I just…I have to ask…how…how drunk are you?" She was nearly panting between words.
"Two beers. All night." He answered.
"So….not drunk."
"No. You?"
"A glass of wine and a sip of that champagne."
"So, also not drunk."
"No."
He leaned into her, bringing his forehead to hers.
"Bones…"
"We probably shouldn't do this." She whispered.
"Probably not." He was equally quiet.
"But we're going to, right?"
"Oh, god yes." His lips crashed into hers, and she eagerly accepted his kiss, cradling his jaw with one hand, her other hand in a fist over his heart, each unaware of anything but each other.
Brennan pulled back and held up the key. "Angela suggests that given too much time, like the time it would take to get back to your apartment, I might over think things. This is for Hodgins' guest house."
"Are you sure?" He had to ask. Over thinking or not he would never want her to do something she would regret in the morning.
"You get our coats from the check. Angela says down the path, left when it forks. I'll meet you there." She kissed his cheek and took two steps towards the back door before she turned around. "And Booth?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm sure."
He smiled while his heart thudded in his chest. "I'll be right there."
The coat guy was too slow for Booth as he paced impatiently in the foyer. It didn't help that he didn't know which coat his partner had worn and it was only then he realized she'd gone out into the cold DC winter without one.
He had a half a mind to just leave, get the coats later, but that would mean having to come back into the house in the morning and there was no way that was happening.
At long last the man came back with two coats, one was his and one was one he was pretty sure he'd seen Brennan wear before and that was good enough for him. As fast as he could go without breaking into a run he was out the back door and down the path.
He found the guest house easy enough but once he was at the door a sudden uncertainty swept over him. Did he knock? Just walk right in?
He did a little of both, calling out to her as he opened the door. "Bones?"
"Hi, Booth."
She had left the lights dim and lit a few candles and the warm glow of the room made her look ethereal and more gorgeous than he could ever have imagined. He was so awed he made no move to leave the doorway, he just stood and stared instead.
"Can you close the door? I walked over without my coat. I was…" she motioned to her dress "going to undress, but I was having a hard time getting warm."
He swallowed and came all the way into the cottage, closing the door behind him. "I'm glad you waited."
"You are?" She looked puzzled by his words.
"Yes," he nodded, swallowing again. "I'd like to help you with that."
There it was again, that sexy little lopsided grin. "I would like that." She turned around so her back was to him. "Perhaps you could unzip me?"
He moved behind her, rested his forehead in her neck for just a moment, but then, instead of pulling down her zipper, he began to pull out hairpins.
"Don't these hurt your head?" he asked, his voice low and husky in her ear. "Let's let this down. I love your hair down." One hand picked out the pins, the strong fingers of his other hand massaging her scalp where the pins had been.
She was paralyzed by his warm breath in her neck and, though she knew better, she felt as though she could feel electricity crackling between them. She closed her eyes and shivered in anticipation and arousal.
"Still cold, Bones?" he smirked, though he knew otherwise.
"No." She whispered. "Not at all. I feel…"
"What do you feel, Bones? Tell me. I want to know. He kissed her neck softly before going back to his self appointed job.
"Anticipatory" she said breathlessly. "I feel anticipatory."
He smiled at her squinty word. "What else?" He pulled out another pin and her hair began to come down from it's fancy twist. He pulled it aside and placed a soft, open mouthed kiss at the top of her spine.
"I…I…I feel…certain."
"Yeah?" This time his tongue snaked out and hotly swiped the flesh of her neck, then gently blew on it, making her entire body shake in reaction.
"Oh…Oh yes. Very certain." Her voice shook, too.
"That's good, Bones. I've been waiting for this, hoping for this, for a very long time." He found the zipper and placed a kiss just above it before he began to inch it down slowly, his fingers skimming her skin as the zipper parted.
She let out a sound, a combination of a moan and a sigh that was unlike any sound he'd ever have imagined she would make, even in his wildest dreams and his cool exterior began to crumble. Never in his life had wanted someone more than he wanted this woman in front of him. She wasn't even a want. Somewhere along the way, she had become a need.
He needed her. Like the air he breathed, he needed her.
The zipper reached its end and he wordlessly put his hands on her hips and spun her to face him.
Her hair was loose, the curls unruly but not wild and her eyes were a blue he'd never seen before but was immediately addicted to. Her lips were parted slightly and her breathing was fast, her skin flushed.
"You're gorgeous" he whispered reverently and with his words she cupped his face with her hands and tiptoed up just a bit to meet his mouth.
She decided that kissing Seeley Booth was the most amazing thing she would ever know. Temperance Brennan the scientist would argue this was impossible to quantify.
Temperance Brennan the woman silenced her and melded her body into her partner's, her breasts pushing against his strong chest, her arms winding around his neck, her fingernails raking the hair at the nape of his neck.
He tore his lips from hers, eager to taste more of her, and began dropping tiny, wet kisses down her throat.
"Oh, ah…." her vocabulary took a nosedive as he reached her collarbone and nipped at it gently.
"I want to know…" he said, his tongue tracing the bone back up to her neck "what feels good. I want to know what you like, what you want."
"You…" she answered breathlessly. "Oh, god, I just…you, Booth. I just want you."
He stopped the attention he was paying to her earlobe and looked sincerely into her eyes. "You have me. You always have."
She blinked back tears. "Booth…" instead of trying to find the right words, she fused her lips to his, claiming him, trying to wipe away any doubts he might have that she did not feel the same about him.
He found the straps of her dress and pushed them down her shoulders to her elbows and she shrugged out of them.
Those thin straps were the only thing holding up the dress and she let it fall, standing before him now in a sheer black bra and matching panties.
"Oh, Bones…" he breathed out, reaching out to trace the lace edge of her bra, running his finger over the fabric as well as her skin.
She ran her hands over his chest and found the buttons of his shirt and began to methodically unfasten them. "You have on entirely too many clothes." She said as her fingers fumbled in their haste.
"I really don't like this shirt very much." He arched his eyebrow and she took his bait. For once understanding exactly what he didn't say, she pulled, sending the buttons scattering to the floor and she pushed the shirt down off his arms.
"Almost." She tugged on the hem of his undershirt and he lifted his arms as she pulled it up over his head and discarded it somewhere behind him. "Much better" she whispered as she began to trace his abdominals with a lightweight touch, almost just a flutter against his muscles and he groaned at the sensation.
She let her hand fall to his belt loops and tugged him toward her as she lowered her mouth to his chest, tasting his skin, reveling in his physique. She pressed against him, moving her hips in small, tight circles, making him growl hungrily.
But his hands were busy too as they located the clasp on the back of her bra and undid it, allowing the sheer fabric to drop to the floor between them.
One hand fell to her waist, the other palmed one breast and he had to close his eyes at the desire that shot through him at the feeling of her in his hand. He passed one thumb over her nipple and she gasped "Oh, god…" Her back arched as she rocked into him, feeling his hardness.
He turned them both and walked her three steps backwards, kissing her, until they reached a wall and he could press himself against her, grinding into her.
He took one breast into his mouth, sucking gently, swirling his tongue around the sensitive pink bud.
She moaned and wrapped one leg around him to increase the friction between their centers as he left a trail of kisses to her other breast before laving her other nipple, enthralled not only with her soft skin in his mouth, but with the very notion that he was allowed to touch her this way.
"Booth, oh…" her hands flew to his pants button, aching to touch him
"Bones…I…" He wasn't sure how long he could play without it all being over before it really began.
"I know." And she did. Her senses were overloaded and her body was begging for relief. "Take me to bed, Booth."
He did not need to be told twice and he turned her again, this time his lips on her neck as he directed them to the bed.
She sat on the edge of the mattress and slowly undid his pants, placing slow, wet kisses on his hip bones as she shimmied his pants down his legs, leaving his erection straining only against his boxers.
"Oh, god, Bones," he moaned as she stroked him through the thin fabric. She reached in and wrapped her hand around his hard length, pumping him once and then again. "Oh, fuck, Bones, you have to stop…"
"Then come down here with me" she ordered and he kissed her so hard she found herself pushed back onto the bed, Booth hovering over her, laying a trail of hot, soft, wet kisses from her breasts to the top of her panties.
Ever so slowly he hooked his fingers around the sides of sheer fabric and lowered them down her legs, kissing her thighs, legs and calves as he went. He discarded them and was gone, just for a second, but she sensed his absence just the same, until he came back with his own underwear now gone as well.
He lapped at her body hotly, trailing soft wet kisses from her hips to her breasts, stopping to gently graze her nipple with his teeth, then soothing it with his tongue.
She arched into him, her fingers digging into his back. "Oh, god, Booth…please…"
He went back to work in her neck, kissing and suckling and likely marking her as his finger slipped into her core.
"Ah!" she nearly came all the way off the bed as he found her sensitive spot and applied just the right amount of pressure and movement. She bucked into his hand. "Booth…"
"I can't wait anymore," he was half apologetic, because watching her react to his touch was entrancing. "I want to be inside you."
"Oh, yes…" she gasped breathlessly "Oh, please…"
He positioned himself over her hips and she raised up to meet him, teasing his tip with the heat and wetness from her center.
He moaned, words escaping him, as he slid into her, sheathing himself in her slick, welcoming folds.
She gasped, her hips ramming upwards in response to him, her fingers grabbing his ass, desperate to feel him go as deep as he could.
"Bones," he growled as he just allowed himself to enjoy the fact that he was inside of her for just a second. "I'm not sure how slow this is going to go. I…god, you feel so good."
"I don't need it slow. I just need you."
He pulled all the way back out and plunged into her again. And then again. And again. And again.
Over and over and she met him every time. No words were spoken now, only gasps and moans filled the air, quickening as they increased their tempo.
Every time he entered her it felt like coming home for them both and neither of them had ever known the feelings that threatened to overwhelm them now.
"Booth…" she found her voice. "I…I'm close…."
"Come for me, Baby. Oh, god, Bones, let go for me." He pistoned into her faster, losing any semblance of control he may have had left, careening into her, begging for both their releases.
A cry tore from the back of her throat and she rose up off the bed nearly all the way, her entire body quaking beneath him, her inside walls contracting around him and Seeley Booth was certain he'd found heaven.
"Bones!" he shouted as he thrust into her one last time, bringing on his own intense finish. He was light headed as he spilled into her, and bursts of light exploded in front of his eyes.
"Oh…oh….oh…" she panted in his ear, coming down slowly from her orgasm. "Booth…"
"That was…" he lifted his head from where he'd buried it in her neck. "…that was incredible, Bones."
"Yeah." she agreed breathlessly. "It really was." She put her hand to his cheek and drew him down for a kiss. It was a sweet kiss, soft and tender and spoke volumes about what this all had meant to them both.
He grinned at her. "Happy New Year, Bones."
She grinned back. "Happy New Year, Booth."
He wrapped her up in his arms and turned them both so that she was laying beside him, her head on his chest. He dropped another kiss into her hair.
She wasn't intuitive often; she didn't even really believe in intuition, but somehow she knew what he needed to hear.
"This changes everything." She whispered and she could feel him tense beneath her. "But I find I am ready for the change. That I welcome it. That I want it." And she felt him relax again.
"Change is good." He offered, smiling as he rested his cheek against her head.
"Yes. It certainly can be." She splayed her fingers out on his chest, feeling his heart beat beneath them. "Goodnight, Booth."
Another kiss to her head. "Sleep well, Bones."
While the moonlight seeped in between the blinds and Booth's breathing slowly evened out, indicating sleep, Brennan couldn't help but realize that Angela had been right. New Year's Eve was all about the chances that lay ahead. As she drifted into slumber, fully sated and blissful in her partner's arms, she finally understood that sometimes the shift from one year to the next really does make all the difference.
~End~
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