Spoilers: Never, considering they haven't bothered showing season two here yet, let alone season three. 'Grr' to them all.
Disclaimer: (s) are pointless.
Author's Note: Okay, second fic. I need reviews to help me be more creative! Grins. That's my main problem...I can never think of anything, so my fics don't have plots...Hence them both being oneshots, I suppose. And, again, this is dedicated to Bethany and Sangmo, both of whom are rather wonderful writers, but only one of whom will actually write anything. Guess which! I'll give you a hint: It's Bethany. Grins again. Goodnight all, and enjoy!
How could she not know how beautiful she was? Her brow furrowed at the slightest uncertainty, he always knew when to expect anything when she did this. He was captivated by every movement, every subtle gesture. He was also wary of them. He'd learned by now to read her expressions, as seldom as they were, while she was studying bones. He'd taught himself how from watching her so much. Watching her like this, secretly, he'd learned to know when a case was bothering here more than usual. She was easier to read than she liked to think.
He watched her as she worked every chance he could muster. He pretended like he was bored, to appease the others and stave off Angela's comments. Mostly because he didn't want her to know. Didn't want her to know how much he enjoyed simply being in the room with her. Didn't want her to know that he couldn't take his eyes off her. Didn't want her to know that every time he saw her like this, he wanted nothing more than to kiss her.
Which, unfortunately for him, was indeed every time he saw her at all. There wasn't anything particularly sexual about the way he imagined her with him, though. It wasn't the feeling he got with most, or rather, all, of his prior 'dalliances'. He couldn't think of her like that, like an object, a desire. He respected her to much, he cared too much for her to think like he normally did.
All Booth had ever wanted was to kiss her, to feel her in his arms, against him. Feel her heat, smell her hair, taste her lips. He knew it was never going to happen. Not with her. Not with His Bones.
It was ironic, really; the one woman he had ever truly wanted. And she was off limits, and that was partly his fault. He silently cursed his stupidity, his metaphorical 'lines' which had set them so far apart, he wasn't sure if he'd ever get to kiss her, to love her. Hell, he was quite certain she'd never let him, even if the chance did arise, which it wouldn't.
Her eyes shifted patiently, concentrating to a point beyond normal human ability, to the left femur. He remembered all the times he'd proved to her that he really did listen when she was pointing out the bones. He paid much more attention than she thought. He wanted to please her, wanted to show her that he cared. To her, there seemed to be no better way to do that than to take interest; which, admittedly, wasn't hard for Booth once His Bones started talking.
He was captivated.
He didn't notice when she turned to face him, showing him an irregularity she had found on the femur, giving him a strange but patient look when he didn't react to her announcement.
She was confused. Why was he...? Why was he staring at her like that? She watched him study her. He was so focused, like he was when observing a witness, only he was calm, serene almost. Even from five feet away, he was everything she would call "well structured", indeed. His chest moved fluidly as he breathed, and her eyes watched his muscles move under his shirt.
She meant to break her train of thought then, before it got out of hand, before the urge to kiss him took over, but she couldn't. Or, rather, wouldn't. Honestly, it was the last thing she wanted. She wanted to let that urge take over, to not allow herself the dignity of cowardice. There was no way she could take her eyes off him now, though. Not that she truly wanted to.
It was his line, not hers, that had stopped the inevitable from happening, taking away that last shred of uncertainty and possibility. But it wasn't his fault. The line had to be drawn; it was only a matter of who drew first. Of who would take the fall.
It wasn't her. Booth had drawn the line; he had to be the one to cross it. It wasn't a selfish proposal on her behalf, it was exactly the opposite. She knew he had to cross the line, or to erase it completely. This was his thing, and it had worked well...until now.
They'd had many moments like this one. Her looking at him, him watching her, only neither of them had ever noticed the other before, and if they had, the moment was over in an instant. Neither dared admit these moments happened, even to themselves. She looked up.
Their eyes met.
Chocolate brown and azure blue stared. Both felt the wave of emotion passed between the two. Both realized they were never going back, they couldn't, even if they tried and tried to ignore it, this connection, this electricity would never leave. It had rooted itself in them both so long ago.
Neither wanted to move, to bring the possibility of collapse upon them both, but both also knew this was unavoidable. They had been caught. Both of them, spellbound by the fire they saw in the other's eyes, took a step closer, bringing them within inches of each other.
Mesmerized by her, Booth leant into her ear, his lips grazing her cheek. She shivered. "You are beautiful, Temperance," he whispered, surprising both of them with his vocalizations.
He pulled back far enough to look again into her eyes. He studied her reaction carefully, hoping she wouldn't simply turn and run. He saw nothing of fear in her eyes, nothing of anger, and he leaned closer.
She could feel his breath on her lips, moving over them like a physical thing, and already it was sweeter than any kiss either of them had ever experienced. He was waiting for her to move, she knew, but she was adamant. No matter how much she wanted this, he had to cross the line. It wouldn't be fair to wither of them if she crossed it.
She was hesitating, but he didn't see anything of uncertainty in her eyes. Booth was briefly scared that she wouldn't make the move. All he could concentrate on was her breath on his mouth, and he wasn't sure he'd be able to recover if this didn't happen. They both needed it to, he knew that.
"Booth," she whispered, her breath making his lips tingle. And he knew what she needed. She needed to be certain he was crossing the line, too. She didn't want to be rejected, like so many times before. He had to do this. And this was her permission.
Her eyes closed as she felt Booth's mouth on her own, his lips just grazing hers in the uncertainty of a first kiss. But it was enough. Enough to leave them both breathless and flushed. Enough to end the uncertainty. Enough to erase the line.
Enough to promise more.