I usually avoid author's notes before a chapter because I like the idea of the reader being able to jump right into a new and beautiful world but felt it necessary to put a little warning here.
This picks up where season 6 episode 16, The Blackout in the Blizzard, leaves off. I am terrible about ratings, usually erring on the conservative side but this one falls in a grey area for me. I would say it's a hard T or very soft M - I am going with T. If you are young or sweet and innocent, consider it an M and go read something else like Anne of Green Gables or Little House in the Big Woods (sorry momentary mom moment there). Otherwise, enjoy.
oooooOoooo
Paper wishes burned, candles blown out, lights on, dishes almost done and put away but the snow kept falling. Bones stood silently looking out his apartment window at the quiet night and sipping her wine. Booth was just putting away the last dish, drying his hands, and spreading the the dish towel neatly along the edge of the sink. Normally, he hated silence but tonight he welcomed it.
His mind was loud enough as it sorted through the day. Racing thoughts, bombarded by one personal issue after another, locked in a cage, trapped, on display, he hated it. He didn't do well with captivity. He didn't do well with her captivity either, knowing that she felt trapped too, remembering some of the horrific tales of her childhood and experiences as an adult. He'd watched her feign strength and acceptance of their situation all day. His own frustration at not being able to fix it for her chased him into the night. It was a good night for wine, maybe even something stronger.
He shook off the thought only to have it chased by another. It was one of those irritants, the thought that tugs and pulls and won't be ignored. Here in his apartment, she'd all but admitted her desire to try and have a relationship with him when the timing was right. But, as he thought back through the day and even farther, the preceding months, he saw a pattern. She was matching his mood, agreeing to whatever he set as boundaries for them. It wasn't like her to withhold her opinion, certainly not like her to lie to make him comfortable. He felt stupid for not seeing it before, stupid for being so wrapped up in himself, in his own pain. Of all the conversations, of all her stated opinions, this latest one, the awkward plea that someday she could be strong and he could be less angry, seemed to be the closest to reality.
He'd done that to her, he realized. In the bar the night Hannah left, he'd given her two options. Be his partner or be nothing. He felt blind for not seeing it sooner. She was stronger than she let on. He could see it now, reaching back before Hannah left. She was brave enough to share her regrets, brave enough to be rejected by him and stay, brave enough to take what little he offered and wait for him to catch up.
Letting out a heavy sigh, he pushed off the counter and walked over to where she stood at the window. Situating himself behind her, he leaned in just a bit.
"Still snowing?"
She nodded slightly as she swallowed then added her brief answer. "Yes." She brought her wine glass up to her mouth for another sip. A simple stillness seemed to creep up from the streets below and settle between them. "I love the snow." Whispered, her words barely broke the silence. "It's quiet."
"It is," He moved just a little closer. "Beautiful."
This was a dance they'd perfected over the years. He moved in closer, she moved farther away and vice versa. It kept them safe, always equidistant apart, always a little physical separation to spare them. The few times they'd breached these carefully maintained boundaries had been brief and with purpose. In careful consideration of those unspoken rules, she made a personal decision earlier in the evening right before she admitted her growing strength. In the future, she wouldn't move away. If he moved in closer she would stay, she'd let him in. This was the first test of that choice, of that change. She stayed still, allowed him to pull in closer. Close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body, to feel his breath on her neck. Close enough for him to feel how pleasantly unnerved she was by his proximity. She closed her eyes and took an intentional breath, letting it out slowly.
"You should stay." He found himself fiddling with the bottom edge of her shirt as his hands brushed clumsily against her waist and hips. "I don't want to send you out into that." She chuckled, that beautiful low sound he loved so much. She missed this part of their partnership and friendship. Hannah's presence had changed so much between them, little things, important things.
"I'll be fine, Booth, it's just a little snow." His gentle appeal made him nearly irresistible, though at the moment, staying seemed more dangerous than the weather.
"It's a blizzard." Intentionally or not those strong hands seemed to be migrating, anchored less to the hem of her blouse and more to her. Her decision suddenly seemed like self abuse. It was hard enough to be so close to him all the time, to love him so deeply and to keep her distance. She panicked, unsure of her decision or this new territory.
"I've been in worse." Nearly choking it out, she returned to science and history, her personal history, to bring some order back to her racing mind as she continued to let him be close to her. "I once had to hike through a blizzard in the Himalayas to get to a dig site. That was far more dangerous than this and then we worked in those conditions for over a month. I think I can make-"
"Just stay, for me, just tonight." There was a desperation in his voice she didn't understand. "I'll sleep on the couch, you can have my bed." It was meant to put her at ease, but it didn't.
A house, a home or apartment buzzes with electricity even when no one makes any sound, That's made abundantly clear when the electricity goes out and a new level of silence fills that space. At that moment, the very moment when she was contemplating his offer, the electricity failed were suddenly thrust into that world of darkness.
It startled her. Nerves already on raw, she gasped and inadvertently dropped her glass of wine. her whole body cringed as they heard it hit the shelves that stood in the small bay window, then crash to the ground, shattering.
He was so close. So close that he could feel the jerk of her body as she scrambled to breathe regularly. This was about more than broken glass and bare feet. This was panic. It was about two days spent in the trunk of a car, about Salvadoran captors, about the Gravedigger and who knows how many other experiences she had yet to share with him where plummeting darkness was a tangible enemy.
"Don't move." His voice was steady and sure, she froze for him. "You'll cut yourself on the glass." He explained. It was logical, a firm explanation that gave her something concrete to hold onto. He knew her, though, and while he could feel her panic, he could also feel that part of her that innately rose up to deny it. "Bones, I'm going to pick you up now,okay?"
"Booth, I'm fine, you don't have to-"
It was done before she ever finished her counter argument. He could feel the protest in the stiffness of her body. She could feel his strength as he lifted her effortlessly off the ground. Holding her close to his chest as he carried her away. They had just moved all his furniture around to make room for the stadium seats, stumbling a couple times he bumped into the rearranged furniture. Finally finding his couch, he settled down into it with her on his lap. A moment in the dark breathing, being, this was different. He knew he should get up and light some candles but he couldn't move, could barely breathe. And when she started to move, he felt everything in his body tighten around her, silently begging her to stay.
"Don't. Please, don't." His voice finally caught up with him. Holding her loosely, she could have easily moved away. She didn't, held captive by his pleading voice, by the tenderness of his strong hands as they played along the edges of her body. She couldn't help the strangled acceptance of his touch that escaped her.
"Are you okay? Did you get cut on the glass?" His strong hand found her thigh and carefully felt it's way down her leg to her foot.
"I don't think so." This was torture. Dancing so close to crossing the line and pulling back to something familiar and solid. Especially after he'd made it clear that he wasn't ready for more regardless of how much he might want it. He carefully checked the other leg and foot. She moved again towards leaving his lap. Again, she felt the pressure of his hand, this time splayed across her hip, pull her closer. His head fell to hers. The stubble of his cheek brushed lightly against her soft tender cheek.
The darkness afforded them the use of their other senses. He seemed to have chosen touch.
"Booth." It was a plea. Stop the beautiful torture or give me more, but don't leave me in the middle. His lips barely glanced along her cheek. He breathed heavily into her ear and, slid along her neck. Never quite connecting, she lost almost all her ability to think. Fighting, clawing her way back to conscious thought. "You said you were angry."
"Not at you." It was quick, he answered as if he'd already had this conversation in his mind. "You lied to me." It was the first time she'd pulled back.
"What? No, I don't lie. You know that, Booth."
"Shhh" He wanted to pull her back into the quiet with him. It felt perfectly matched with the darkness, but he had to answer, had to explain. "For me, you lied for me." This time as he brought his head back close to hers, she let her hand find his cheek, allowed those beautiful delicate fingers of hers to trace and sort the strong features of his face. "To give me time and space, you lied about your feelings." He leaned into her hand. "For me" He kissed her palm. "About your feelings, you lied." Another kiss, lightly pressed into her hand. "And about being strong." Lifting his head, he let his lips brush hers. She felt a smile spread across them. "You love me."
Her body shuddered silently, her secret finally spoken, given life and breath. It was a release for her. He felt her tears as they fell and wedged between their cheeks.
"It's okay, don't cry." Kissing away her tears he tried to reassure her. "I love you for that, for what you did for me. I'm sorry I didn't see it sooner."
Their lips danced and brushed and whispered as they unearthed so many long buried secrets. They floated in the air like errant snowflakes picked up by a gust of wind. It was a time of reckoning long overdue. A gift from mother nature, forcing away the loud distractions of everyday. Hiding their weakness and fear in the the darkness. Allowing them to see through touch and feel, not tricked by the facades they carefully constructed and hid behind since their return to DC from their respective corners of the world.
He held her and she let him hold her in the most honest act of her life. She let his hands, his busy hands, talk to her, reassure her, entreat her. He let her answer, not with long dissertations and scientific explanations, but in the gentle response to his touch.
Each move was innocent, more than partners, more than friends but not yet lovers. Letting her body relax into his, they sat in absolute silence, melting into this beautiful place they found themselves in. If tomorrow he woke up angry and she had to wait for him to find his way back to this, she could do it, she was confident. She found all the strength she needed to wait in this night. He felt her peace and contentment, her resolve.
The hum of electricity revved back up, the lights blinded them, stole their precious darkness. He felt her stiffen in his arms, felt her disappointment of their loss. Acting in haste, he picked her back up, turned quickly, and set her back down on the couch.
Pointing a finger in her face he gave his orders. "Stay, right here, don't move, okay?" He could see the loss in her eyes. "Promise me." She nodded then watched as he went over to his windows and pulled the blinds all the way up giving them a clear view of the quickly falling snow, illuminated by the street lamps right outside his windows. Then he ran about that apartment, turning off lights as he went until he'd restored their separate peace. Standing in front of her, he reached out his hands to her. She felt silly now, sitting in the dark when the electricity was back on. When she didn't respond, he jetted his hands out again and waited until she hesitantly put her hands in his. He pulled her up then pulled her in close.
This was a choice, his choice. The moment was gone, the electricity back on, it would be easy to leave what had happened between them in the darkness, but he didn't. His quiet touch returned as he traced each delicate feature highlighted by the dim light from the window. Closing her eyes she let herself fall back under the spell of the darkness.
"I love you too, Temperance." She couldn't help her reaction, the trembling of her body, the weakness in her knees, her quiet gasps for breath. She waited so long to hear those words from him. She'd dreamed about it, fantasized about it, cried over the loss and certainty that she never would hear it. But here she was with him, finally in the same place. Leaning in he whispered it again, this time directly into her ear, then kissed just below it. Her head fell lazily to the side as he kissed down the gentle slope of her neck.
Two people loosely propping one another up, sustaining one another. Independant and yet yielding some of that precious control they both fought so hard in life to gain. Each touch burned a little but left them begging wordlessly for more. They'd waited, waited years. One kiss on the lips would tip the scales, both of them certain a choice to have that kiss was a choice to have it all. Neither felt they possessed the strength to share that kiss and walk away. Their indecision was tangible, painful, and understood.
"Bones." Desperation filled the quiet utterance of his endearment for her. He whispered it against her lips. "If I do this…" She knew, she knew and nodded her understanding, her agreement, her desire as her lips teased his.
"I know." It came out breathy, filled with longing and hope.
"I won't be able to stop." He confessed. His hands slid longingly across her hips and waist until they came up under her blouse and met her skin. It was the smallest gesture, a tiny move but held such significance for her. His hands on the small of her back, the feel of them against her bare skin. This was the center of them, one place that had always been uniquely his.
"I know." Refusing to push him to this end she closed her eyes and waited.
Finally his lips fell on hers, strong and open and unreserved. The world spun lazily out of control in a beautiful haze as they caught glimpses and short snippets of their bodies touching in this new and exhilarating way. He shrugged out of his long sleeved shirt. She let her sweater fall to the floor. Snapshots flashed between kisses as they twirled catching the flurry of falling snow and mixing it with their hearts and bodies striving to become one. His fingers tightly intertwined with hers. His hand gripping her arm, finding stability and strength. Her hand sliding up his arm displacing the sleeve of his more their bare skin brushed and touched, the more they craved the sensation. It wasn't enough, never enough.
Tugging and pushing at his t-shirt, she finally saw it fall away. She turned him until the faint light bounced off his solid chest, then stilled his hands and lips long enough to let her fingers find and follow each bone. She leaned in and kissed each scar honoring each noble and selfless act that had earned them a place on his body.
He saw her tears. "No, no tears. Not tonight. Not between us." Carefully, he thumbed them away. Then let his fingers fall to a greater task, a step, a never going back step. He caught her eyes and held them as he fumbled with the first button on her blouse. Never letting that contact break, waiting for her to tell him no, hoping against hope she wouldn't. It was different, for whatever reason, society defines lines differently for men and women. It was intimate and powerful to feel her acceptance of his bare chest. To accept her tender touch and adoration. But for her to let him touch her, for her to offer to bare her chest to him seemed so much more intimate, so private. She nodded him on, button after button, eyes locked, Each brought them closer and closer to a new reality. She didn't flinch, not once, until the last button fell open and her shirt joined her sweater on the floor.
Turning her gently towards the falling snow, he stood solidly behind her. Swooping her hair to one side he kissed along her shoulder. "Beautiful." He mouthed against her skin. Lightly he picked up the strap that fell tight across her shoulder and let it fall away. He watched her breath quicken in the short fast paced rise and fall of her chest. She felt his fingers as they fiddled with the hook and eyes, felt the familiar release as it fell away from her back, felt his hands smooth and rub away the lines and creases it left behind.
"I love you, Temperance, I always have." He came carefully around her, his words momentarily stolen from his lips by the sight of her. "God, you're…" There wasn't a word, his mind raced in search of one but there wasn't one that could do her justice. He reached out almost absently letting his fingers lightly trace the simple line of light that fell across her shoulder down the swell of her breast to its tip. She couldn't contain the sounds of pleasure that escaped her delicate lips as his mouth replaced his fingers drawing her in. Her head fell back as her arms clamped around his head holding him to her.
Rolling her head to the side she caught the storm, now raging, snow falling so fast and hard that individual flakes were lost in a wall of white. It became a blur like them. Individual touches, kisses, lost in a stunning blur as they were completely carried away by their storm. Her body crumbled around his as they stripped each other bare, then carefully sheltered each other reverently, treasuring, claiming, possessing each beautiful inch of each other. And still it wasn't bare enough, not close enough. So, frantically pulling cushions and a blanket down from the couch he laid her down on the floor and hovered over her. Her hands rubbed up and down his arms as her body rose up and sought his, begged silently for what they'd both been longing for, a connection, their connection.
And then they were there and each move he made stole her breath and elicited sounds and feelings she never experienced before. He settled squarely between her thighs holding her gaze as he gently moved her bangs and laid a simple kiss on her forehead. There was no need for words, the whole night had been an expression of their felt the pressure of him push against her and gasped at the overwhelming desire to take him in that flowed through her every bit of her.
Making love would be quite satisfying she'd told him earlier in the day before she'd sheepishly agreed that they could never work as a couple. He was right. She'd lied. They could work as a couple, she knew it. They loved each other so deeply for so many years surely it was enough to make it work.
But that wasn't the only lie. Making love was so much more than satisfying. It was more than the intense pleasure they gave one another. It was completing, it was healing, it was new and beautiful and perfect. She'd watched him intently as that pressure filled her up, as he filled her up in a way that was so much more than physical. She clung to him desperately as making love both slammed them together and tore them apart. Until they won the battle and fell farther into each other than either of them could ever imagine possible.
In the end two bodies, naked, lay twisted carefully together in the darkness watching the snowfall, now just little flurries dancing on the wind. Drifting lazily between between holding onto this precious moment and sleep. She was close to losing the battle. Wrapping her carefully in the blanket he picked her up and carried her off to his bed. She squirmed and wiggled and twisted her way around his limbs, entangling him, making it impossible to leave. He smiled, knowing he had no such intention and tucked the blankets tightly around her body to keep her warm.
"I love you, Bones." He whispered against her bare skin as he watched her move against his ticklish words.
"I love you too, Booth." Slow and sleepy the words fell from her lips.
Things were finally as they should be, as they were meant to be from the very beginning.
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A/N - I know, I know it's not Need. Which I promise the next chapter is coming very soon but it is a long chapter, long and intense and I needed a break from writing it. The end of this episode I have loved but always wanted more (I'm admittedly greedy that way). I wanted her to stay the night because it was snowy and dangerous, I wanted him to see how careful she was to match whatever he said and wanted. I wanted him to get over that anger and get on with life… and now that all is right with the world I promise to finish this long torturous chapter of Need where everything culminates.
Please take a minute and tell me what you think - this was an interesting write for me - definitely a little different.
Special thanks to my dear friend, sounding board, and queen of grammar, craftyjhawk who was also busy writing yesterday and added an amazing chapter (referencing The Doctor in the Photo) to her collection To Step Across the Line!
Thank you for reading ~ DG