A Kiss Is Just A Kiss

Summary: I freaked when they kissed. And I can't just let that go without writing about it.
Rating: T-ish at most.
Disclaimer: I don't own Bones. Or its characters. Or anything else. And I would like to announce that there is nothing shameful in watching "Santa in the Slush" multiple times. And rewinding to watch the kiss. More than once. We all do it.

- - - - This is a brief tangent from Striped Socks; I just couldn't resist. More of that one to come soon, but meanwhile, let's stop to ponder that kiss again, shall we? - - - -

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Brennan never chewed gum.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. She used it in under-developed nations, where toothpaste wasn't always readily available and she didn't always have time to stop and brush her teeth. It wasn't optimal, but in those circumstances it worked perfectly well and she didn't mind at all.

But today she had stopped to pick up gum on her way to work, and she had stared blankly at the gum-and-candy aisle for a moment, blinded by the choices. Wintergreen? Spearmint? Peppermint? Cinnamint? Then again, should she go with some flavor other than mint? Maybe Strawberry Explosion? MelonBurst? Bubble-tastic?

At a loss for which to choose, Brennan then had to face the reality that she didn't know which one would be appropriate. And suddenly realized: this was the first time she had ever cared about how Booth was going to think she tasted.

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She had really been hoping he wouldn't be so obtuse about it. Of course, Brennan had to admit, it was a bit of a shock to throw at a person. But Booth was as stubborn as she was. Maybe if he hadn't happened upon her just as she was hanging up the mistletoe, it wouldn't have been so awkward. But her clear, dispassionate, apologetic announcement was met with his typical goat-like hesitance. She groaned inwardly, trying to push him to see her side. This was a system of barter, used by civilizations for thousands of years as a form of currency, and it was actually much less perverted than some she had read about. But Booth balked, staring at her with half-believing sheepishness.

"So Caroline's feeling puckish."

It was a word she hadn't associated with the woman either, but as she came bustling into the office, Brennan thought maybe there was something to it after all.

XXX

As Caroline pushed him towards her, Brennan ignored the sudden flush of lightheadedness and decided to just get this over with. All in all, it was a very simple way to get what she wanted. Men and women had used sexuality for millennia to gain favors, if illicit ones, and it was a fact of society. Not that there was anything overtly, or even remotely, sexual here. It was simply two adults consenting to a slightly unusual request.

Meeting his eyes boldly, she tried to soften her face into a form of smile to set him at ease. When he still seemed skittish – he wasn't taking this seriously – she gave up and made physical contact, figuring as long as he held still for five seconds she could get her way.

Brennan was so focused on process that it took her a few moments to realize that he was actually kissing her. Her mind shot into sensory overload as she felt his lips against hers, warm and firm and tantalizing – a kiss so innocent, but that promised so much more – but so wonderfully, deliciously forbidden.

Panic seized suddenly at her chest, and her lips parted involuntarily, instinctively trying to take in oxygen. It didn't work, seeing as his mouth was still on hers. Realizing that her hands were still tangled in the lapels of his coat, Brennan tried to calm down and let him go, hearing the soft pop as their lips parted. That one little noise was the proverbial straw. She couldn't look at him. She didn't want to think about what she might be tempted to do if she did. Hearing the slight stumble as he half-fell back, Brennan hoped desperately that he wasn't having the same trouble she was, trying to wipe the inexplicable, idiotic smile off her face. Her cheeks were warm, and she just couldn't look at him, so she folded her arms, unconsciously trying to straighten herself, and asked Caroline if that would suffice.

"Was that enough steamboats?"

Saying the wordsteamboats was a terrible idea. All she heard herself say wassteam, and she swore mentally as her imagination suddenly started to conjure up very vivid images of just how that could have ended up being a much more interesting situation. Especially if her office was a little more private. Those thoughts had no place in her tidy, well-ordered mind. It was as tidy and well-ordered as her desk – which her devilish side thought might be fun to sweep empty and use for much less scientific purposes –

Caroline said yes, and Brennan was shocked to hear a downright puckish voice in the back of her own head: But you could do better, couldn't you, Tempe?

"It was like kissing my brother."

Even Brennan didn't believe herself. Judging from the noise as they parted, that had been a little too much suction for a mere family greeting.

The attorney seemed uncomfortable and beat a hasty retreat. Watching her go, Brennan was dismayed to feel her heart rate maintaining its hasty flutter, leaving her warm and a little uneasy, feeling as though there was something she wasn't in control of but should be. And Booth was standing beside her, much too close, close enough that if she really wanted to, she could easily persuade him to revisit the scene they had just created. Not that she would ever do such a thing, of course. She scowled inwardly at the stray thoughts that wouldn't leave her head.

"I'm sure she feels really foolish right now."

She needed Booth to leave. His continued presence was too much a reminder of the fact that she had been foolish enough to think that this would be easy. Instead, she was now warm and very uncomfortable and needed him to just leave so she could regain her composure and erase the last three minutes from her memory and dammit, if only she could stop blushing.

Thankfully, Booth seemed just as uncomfortable as her and excused himself with sentences that barely qualified as coherent. Brennan took the hint and silently thanked him for it. She sank into her desk chair as gracefully as possible, trying to sound normal as words spilled out of her lips, which were still warm from his, and thankfully he turned to go. She almost didn't hear him mumble those last few words, but she did, and she froze in shock, her cheeks burning as she realized there was no gum in her mouth anymore. Oh my god . . . Now she understood why exactly she just barely could taste a different type of coffee.

. . . Angela never needs to know about this.

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Author's Note: I know, there was no tongue, but seriously, I saw her throat moving or something. That wasn't just any old mistletoe kiss. And if any of you haven't seen the b-roll version – the one they didn't show on TV – go to youtube right now and watch it (search for 'bones extended kiss'). Mmmmm.

I will return to Striped Socks, I swear! This plot bunny was just too tempting to ignore, especially since we're all experiencing Bones withdrawal.