Spoilers: Vague references to 5x10 "The Goop on the Girl"
Author's Note: Written for Lucy's Christmas Fic Exchange at LiveJournal. Some fun, fluffy B/B. Title comes from the Radiohead song of the same name.
Disclaimer: I don't own Bones.
She is wondering what he's doing the exact moment he knocks on her door and she knows in an instant it is him (well, who else could it be at 8am the Saturday after Christmas?). She thinks maybe he's there because he knows she's still upset about El Salvador, but what she doesn't expect to see when she opens her front door, an "I'm fine, Booth" already forming on her lips, is that he's grinning like a fool, dressed in athletic shorts, a light fleece crew neck and running shoes.
He sees her pinch her nose together as she studies him and can't help but grin wider. Sure, she looks adorable, with her bed rumpled hair and what appears to be an old FBI shirt of his (he'd given up wondering where that shirt had gone long ago – but how did he not realize it ended up here and when and why does it look better on her?) and a grubby pair of shorts. She has her hand on her hips now and she is trying to figure him out, because he is unquestionably up to something.
"You gonna let me in Bones or just stare at me?"
"Why are you dressed like that?" She is blunt as always – no pause to say how are you or Merry Christmas or thanks for helping me with the dishes last night, but he also thinks he wouldn't want her any other way.
"Bones, how often is it 60 degrees the day after Christmas in DC?" And he can see that she's about to give some squinty answer about statistics and weather cycles and before she can even begin he continues, "We are going for a run Bones."
"We?"
"Yep. You and me."
She eyes him suspiciously. They don't run together.
Not that she wouldn't like to go for a run with him, in fact, now that he's posed the question she thinks it could be a rather enjoyable experience. She knows she is in excellent shape and is sure that he is too, what with his excellent musculature and –
"Okay."
He was expecting an argument, but then again, she is competitive, especially where he is concerned, and he knows that she delights in the challenge.
"Great. You go get your running clothes on Bones and chop chop, I want to get out there while it's still gorgeous."
She rolls her eyes and retreats to her bedroom, leaving him standing idly in the kitchen, once again marveling at her lack of TV, eyes drifting about the room, remembering the fantastic Christmas dinner she made for everyone. Remembering her toast – and then his toast – and then her hand in his, and her smile and they way he couldn't keep his eyes off her – he really couldn't, he couldn't even keep his eyes closed for that matter.
"I'm ready!" She proclaims only minutes later, interrupting his daydream, and he turns to see she is outfitted in a perfectly coordinated running outfit. And it's pink.
"Pink, Bones? I never expected you to have a matching outfit thingy for working out, and pink no less!"
Brennan frowns while she appraises her clothing selection, but really – she doesn't care, and secretly enjoys surprising him in little ways like this, so she just smiles and brushes by him on her way out the door.
He follows gleefully, and can't help but catch a whiff of her scent – amazing, he thinks, that she can still smell so good, so Bones, after just waking up.
His hand falls to the small of her back as he guides her down the hallway, the stairs and to his car.
"Can I drive?"
"Not a chance, Bones."
"Come on Booth! We're not on a case and you're the one dragging me out of bed on a Saturday morning. I think I deserve to drive."
"Gee Bones that was a weak argument, even for you. That squinty brain of yours not functioning at full speed yet today?"
She only grumbles a reply in defeat as she clambers up into the passenger seat and he grins again as he rounds the truck, revving up the engine as soon as he's in his seat, and instantly swatting her hand away as she goes to fiddle with the radio, as though this action – for both of them – is second nature.
As they drive off she begins to wonder when this all started. This being the simple routine of at all, of her and Booth. When this became them and they were an us and a "we are going running, Bones" and then she realizes she doesn't want to think of a time when this wasn't what it is. Whatever that might be.
After a short ride they arrive at a nearby park with running trails and Brennan must agree – it is a gorgeous day. Booth sheds his top layer, leaving him in a simple gray FBI shirt, and while he begins to stretch his arms over his head, she has done the same, and can't help notice him noticing her as she is noticing him and they both notice the others' arm stretches have caused their shirts to ride up and skin to become exposed and they notice they like it. They both notice this.
He smiles at her again.
"Ready Bones? You can set the pace if you'd like."
"You know Booth I am quite confident I will be able to keep up with whatever pace you normally run at, so why don't you go ahead."
"Sure about that Bones?" And he begin walking backwards, egging her on with another smirk. She gives him a little shove and starts to jog.
He laughs and joins her. This was going to be fun.
It is fun. He keeps a fast pace, but she has no trouble keeping up. She was in great shape after all, and once again she couldn't help but notice what great shape he was in.
In fact, she can't stop herself from noticing him – the way his calf muscles pulse rhythmically with each step, the way he'd begun to perspire after about 10 minutes, and then his shirt appears damp at the neckline and his armpits and this piques her curiosity as she begins to study his body more as he moves. She falls in step behind him, admiring his back muscles as they flex in motion, her eyes drifting down, and settling on other muscles...
"Checking me out while I run Bones?" He asks, without even turning around to look at her, and she can hear a definite smirk in his tone.
"You are in excellent physical condition Booth, I was merely cataloging that."
"Uh huh. You were looking at my ass."
"Please, Booth."
But she is flustered, and doesn't deny it, and how could he tell what she was thinking or looking at without even looking himself?
And then he turns around, faces her and jogs backwards, smirking at her with an unrestrained self-confidence that is simultaneously infuriating and devastatingly attractive.
And then he trips over a fallen branch, loses his balance, and stumbles awkwardly.
She laughs as she runs past him.
"Bones! You're not even gonna help a guy when he falls? That's harsh."
"No way Booth. You deserved that. Now you have to catch up to me." And as she said this she has increased her pace, without looking around, knowing without a doubt he'll meet her challenge.
And sure enough, as she sprinted away from him, within minutes she feels his presence behind her, and before she can even process what is happening, he has grabbed her and in an attempt to slow her down has knocked her over, consequently knocking himself over, and then they are both rolling around on the ground, out of breath and laughing.
And then she is pressed on top of him, grinning down at him, her hands holding down his biceps, and he stares up at her, a smile matching her own spread across his face.
And in that minute she realizes she wants to kiss him. And rather than fight the feeling off, as she might have done countless other times (because if she was being with honest with herself, this was not the first time she wanted to kiss him – in fact it was one of many numbers of times she's wanted to kiss him) she just grins wider, stops thinking about kissing him and then she does it.
She kisses him. And everything falls into place.
He doesn't need a moment to catch up to her; he is kissing her back instantly – as though this was the most natural thing in the world. Because it is.
And before they can process this, they are full-blown making out on a running trail in a public park in Washington D.C. the Saturday after Christmas.
She realizes she needs air but is unable to decide what she needs more – air or to kiss him – because God, he tasted amazing and smelled even better, like sweat and man and distinctly Booth and then he maneuvers her off of him, breaking the kiss to gasp for air, as she does the same, smiling at her in wonderment, then flipping her under him and diving back for more. With him on top of her their kisses become slow and languid and he thinks that all he wanted to do for the rest of the day, maybe the rest of the year (and probably well into the next year) is kiss her, and why hadn't they done this before? And she thinks that if running together would inspire competition and kissing and he could get her out of breath for so many reasons all at once, then they should have to start running together everyday.
He pulls back from her and she instinctively moves her head up, her lips still seeking out his. She opens her eyes as she feels him brush his thumb across her swollen lower lip, and he smiles down at her once again.
"I'm glad you didn't go to El Salvador."
"Me too."
And then he pops up and takes off on a fast run, calling to her as he goes.
"Come on Bones, I'll race you back and if you beat me you get to drive!"
She laughs at this, at all of this, and she runs after him.
END
A/N: To see how the story was originally formatted (lots of italics), I will direct you to the posting of this fic on my userpage at LiveJournal; my LJ username is also manual84.