A one-shot! I finally managed to write a one-shot!
RARE & BEAUTIFUL
"It's 'tigress'."
His head under the blanket, he stilled, but his lips kept lingering on the soft skin of her stomach.
"What?"
"A female tiger is a tigress and since I'm female, I'd rather be a tigress than a tiger."
"Yeah, well, but since you have neither stripes nor sharp claws, the metaphor might be a dead-end anyways."
"It was your metaphor, not mine."
His head surfaced, and with his chin on her belly, he looked up at her.
"You see beauty, I see you. I'm like that scientist's dog with the bell. What's his name?"
Raising one hand, she combed his hair with her fingers.
"Pavlov."
"Right, Pavlov."
"So, you're conditioned?"
"Kinda. I mean, obviously I do not drool when I hear a bell, but I have to think of you whenever someone says 'beautiful'."
The cutest smile ever brightened her face.
"That's very sweet."
"I'm really, really sorry about the tiger, Bones."
Her smile vanished.
"Me too..."
Crawling up on her, he rested his head on her shoulder, his fingers drawing patterns right over her heartbeat. Through the soft, purple fabric of her shirt, he could feel warmth radiating from her.
"I knew it, Bones."
Shifting a little bit, she cradled him more comfortably.
"What exactly?"
The fingers that had been moving stilled, and he pressed his palm flat to her chest.
"That you have both passion and compassion. That your very rational heart muscle is fairly big and irrational."
Tilting her head, she rubbed her cheek over his temple.
"Sometimes I think you're the nicest person I've ever met."
"That's because you're conditioned, too. Conditioned to find me awesome and sexy," he announced with a cocky grin.
She laughed out, and he surprised her by rolling them around in one swift move until she was sprawled over him.
"Ouch."
"What is it?"
"Your buttons are poking me."
He frowned and shrugged.
"Yeah, they're poking me too. I better take that shirt off."
"I want to keep the buttons!"
"Why? We're not really starting a campaign, are we?"
He ogled her suspiciously, and she traced "Vote Bones" with one finger, finally shaking her head.
"No, but I appreciate the gesture."
Wriggling underneath her, he pulled the shirt over his head.
"Fine, you can appreciate the gesture as much as you want to. As long as we don't have to move to the White House."
"I like our house."
"Our hut, Bones. Our mighty hut."
"Right, mighty hut."
He repositioned himself, and, her weight braced on one elbow, she let her free hand roam over his bare chest.
"I still admire your strength," she finally said. "Obviously, my love for you makes me less objective, but not only do you possess a great amount of masculine appeal, I also find that, whenever I seek comfort, I want to turn to you."
"Turn to me. Whenever you want, Bones. That's what I'm here for, right?"
He was looking up at her with his reassuring brown eyes, and warmth flooded her chest. Burrowing her face in his shoulder, she sighed, and, immediately, his hand was cupping the back of her head, stroking her silky hair.
"We're awfully cheesy, Booth."
Chuckles vibrated in his chest, and his lips lingered on her head.
"Yeah, but nobody knows."
"Rare and beautiful..."
"That's what I said."
"That's what we have..."
"Aw, Bones..."
"I've been alone for so long, and I was fine with it, really fine. Now I have you and my feelings for you are so strong and overwhelming... We have a house, a home. We have made this perfect baby together, and whenever she smiles at me; whenever I wake up in the morning and you're right there with me... I have no words to describe what it means to me. Our life."
She had spoken with passion and candor, her face still safely buried in the crook of his neck, and he enfolded her completely in his arms, holding her tight.
"I know what you mean. Exactly."
Lifting her head, she finally looked at him, feeling utterly vulnerable, but it was okay, it would always be okay because he knew her.
And she was beautiful; even more beautiful than usually, glossy hair, rosy cheeks, bright blue eyes.
His heart clenched, but only briefly because it was joy, wasn't pain, and when he curled his hand around her nape, pulled her down for a kiss, she tasted like the toothpaste they shared, tasted like night and home and familiarity.
And, with the age-old grace of a tigress, she was moving above him, as he removed her shirt, was neither prey nor predator, just equal in this ancient dance called love.
The globe of her breast in his palm, the curves of her hips, the length of her smooth calves against his.
Skin to skin, heart to heart.
Her name on his lips died on a moan, whispers turned into kisses.
Then he was moving in her, with her.
And even though it wasn't rare, it was still beautiful.
Oh so beautiful.
Like she was, like he was.
Like they were.
The End.
Oh my Tigress, how do I love this ep!