A/N: Even when you are trying to point all your energy towards dissertating...you can't speculate about this stuff for HOURS without writing something about it.
At least, *I* can't.
Thanks to bea_tricks for her assistance.
--
He could barely see, his senses not entirely in synchrony with his brain—but he kept glancing downward to make sure what he thought was there wasn't some sort of an illusion. Nope, still there—a curled-up pile of mussed auburn hair, impossibly supple skin, and mile-long legs tangled with his own.
His partner.
She sighed a blissful sigh, her eyes still closed and her breath still heavy from what was presumably an earth-shattering climax.
He placed a protective palm against the side of her face, thumb resting at her throat feeling her still-fluttering pulse.
The had done it. They had really done it. And what was more, they had done it when he could have sworn sex was the last thing on either of their minds.
From her outrageous request for his genetic "product," to his psychotic agreement to said request, to his humiliatingly botched attempt to donate that product at the clinic, to the terrifying words of the doctor a few days later—"Mr. Booth, there might be a problem…a serious one"—Yes. He was fairly certain he had never felt less sexual in his life. He had been embarrassed at his inability to give Bones what she wanted, flummoxed that he had even tried to begin with, and now, afraid for his life.
But on this night, Bones came to him, tears in her eyes, scared for him too. She cried, apologized for being selfish and asking him for his goddamn sperm when his life was hanging in the balance. And, even though he was a little glad (okay, very glad) that she had abandoned these out-of-the-blue baby plans, he assuaged her guilt—after all, she hadn't known he was sick, couldn't have known, and the fact was he was incredibly honored she thought so much of him that she would want him to be a part of something she created. And as they sat, clinging together, they got the phone call that could change everything.
It was an easily curable condition, the doctor said. Booth was going to be just fine.
When he told Bones the news, the hand that was holding the phone still shaking, they gazed at one another for long moments, her eyes poignantly reflecting his own intense relief. He was going to live. And they weren't going to lose each other. They had resisted hundreds, maybe even thousands of moments like this before, but Jesus…fighting it didn't seem worth it anymore.
He had kissed her hungrily, pouring every ounce of fear and longing and relief into her lips. She returned the gesture.
And now, they lay, bodies pressed together, skin flushed with exertion. He couldn't believe that it had taken another near-death experience to finally give into what was between them.
Her head lifted from his chest, and she looked at him with shining eyes and finally spoke.
"That was…"
Incredible? Insane? Universe-exploding out-of-this-world? He smiled, pushing back a strand of damp hair from his forehead. He understood.
"…genius."
Wait. What?
"Genius," he repeated, blinking.
Sighing happily, she laid her head back down. "I never thought you'd agree to sexual intercourse in order for me to achieve conception. Can you believe, I never even considered asking you?" She chuckled against his chest. "But…you're absolutely right. This is truly the most efficient method for me to get pregnant."
Conception. Efficient. Pregnant. He was right. WHAT???
Her finger twirled around his nipple thoughtfully. "You'll have to consult with the doctor to make sure your treatment won't interfere with fertility. But as long as he gives the go-ahead, we can make a schedule."
"A schedule?" he asked faintly. For sure, right now, he was having some surreal dream.
"We should probably have sex frequently—not too frequently, because you need a chance to replenish sperm count between episodes. Maybe three times a week…perhaps more when I'm ovulating."
Okay, this was going too far. This was going to another planet. Firstly, he couldn't stand the thought of Bones scheduling sex with him like some kind of dentist appointment she had to show up for. Secondly—there was no calling what had happened between them an episode. God himself couldn't have convinced him of that.
He was shaking his head vehemently. "I can't do this," he told her, squirming to sit up, the sensual weight of her body making it difficult.
She looked confused. SHE looked confused. "Why not? Do you require a greater refractory period?" she asked.
He gasped as she unexpectedly reached between his legs, noting the parts of his body that couldn't help responding to her, even when she was being insane.
"…Because it would appear that your need for rest is quite short, so I'd imagine a day or two between episodes would be sufficient…"
"BONES," he finally exploded, flying out of his bed, leaving her staring in shock as he stood naked over her. "I did not have sex with you to get you pregnant." He punctuated each of his words, as if separating them would make them sink into her more, give her greater understanding.
But nothing in her face reflected anything except mystification. "Then…why did you have sex with me?"
She wasn't serious. She couldn't be serious. She was a genius. Not just that…she had been there. She had kissed him until she could barely breathe. She alternately made love with him and played with him, giggling as she tickled him with her hair across his stomach.
She had whispered his name while she came.
She had to know that he had sex with her for the same reason she had sex with him.
Right?
As he looked into her beautiful, clueless face, he wasn't sure anymore. Unlike that moment when he swore he could see love there…it now revealed nothing.
"Booth?" she asked, all innocence. It infuriated him.
Turning, he swiped his pants off the floor, pulling them over hips with a huff.
"Booth?" she asked, more tentatively, apparently not so oblivious as to not see his anger.
He whirled around. "Why?" he asked her quietly. "Well, Bones…apparently, not for the reason I thought."
And he couldn't bear to look at her anymore, to try to figure out if she were being truthful, or lying, or just in denial. He had spent the past several weeks trying to figure out reality from delusions.
She was the thing that was supposed to be real.
He left her, sheet-tangled, in his bed, where he had thought she belonged.
The doctor told him he would be just fine.
He wasn't so sure anymore.
--
Her orgasm, with her partner buried deep inside her, had been the culmination of days of confusion and fear and contemplating her life (again) without the person who had made it feel so valuable. Everything had fallen apart and then knitted back together again while she had stared deep in his eyes and whispered his name.
She couldn't stand being scared again, so she remembered the last practical decision she had made.
A baby. Her genetic material, her no-nonsense childrearing, her contribution to the world that would carry on after she was gone, unable to do her work any longer.
It made so much sense.
She needed to make sense of all that she had felt in the past few days. The past few hours. As she had fallen into his kiss.
But despite her best attempts to put it all back into perspective, to make it logical…he had just left her. And she found that without him, nothing made sense.
She leaned back slowly, turning her face into his pillow.
"It's the reason you thought, Booth," she said softly to herself, smoothing her hand over the sheets that now smelled like the both of them. "The problem is…reason has nothing to do with it."
--
A/N: I didn't say I want it to go like this.
I just said it might:-/
Sigh. I can't WAIT to see what tptb conceive of in their twisted little heads.
