Why Bones Shouldn't Drink
The early morning sunlight filtered into the bedroom through the thin curtains, casting an eerie light onto the bed where Booth lay. He slowly opened his eyes, trying to remember how he'd ended up in bed with Brennan. He knew it was her without looking—he'd know her particular scent anywhere. She was still wearing the slacks and top she'd been wearing last night, thank God. Turning his head on the pillow, he was startled at how close her face was. A frown marred her brow and her lips moved as she dreamed.
Last night they had all met for drinks at a bar to celebrate Hodgins' and Angela's engagement. Angela had introduced Brennan to a tasty drink called a Long Island iced tea which didn't taste nearly as potent as it was. He'd lost count after the first couple.
"C'mon, Bren, have another. It's only ten o'clock—the night's young!" Angela coaxed with an impish gleam in her eye.
Brennan stood up too quickly and Booth steadied her as she wobbled unsteadily. "Ten? I need to go home. I need to get to the lab early tomorrow—"
Angela rolled her eyes. "On a Saturday? Hey, I think you can miss ONE Saturday. Don't be a party-pooper, Bren. I'm only getting engaged once."
"Maybe Bones is right," Booth said as he continued to hold his partner's arm. She was blinking up at him with a dazed look.
"Are you gonna take me home?" she asked suddenly. "Please? "
Booth couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips. He never guessed she would be such a cute drunk. "Sure, Bones, I'll take ya home."
She smiled up at him. "Good. 'Cuz I only want a cute guy to take me home, okay?"
Booth's grin grew wider. "Anything you say, Bones. Do you wanna go now?" he asked, hoping the answer was yes. He didn't want to have to carry her to the car. Unfortunately, the bartender had just put another Long Island at her elbow. She turned to look at it.
"Oh, look, I have another one. Mustn't waste it," she declared.
Angela giggled. "She can't hold her hard liquor at all," she told Booth.
Brennan took a healthy gulp of her drink then waved the glass recklessly. "Not so!" she declared. "See, holdin' it jus' fine. Not spillin' a drop!"
They all laughed at her unintentional joke and she grinned too.
"Hey, Angie, maybe you should let him go ahead and take her home," Hodgins said in a low voice. "She's gonna have a wicked hangover in the morning as it is."
Angela sighed. "You're right. She's just so much fun like this, so uninhibited." Angela smiled at Booth. "Have fun getting her home. What I wouldn't give to go along just to watch."
Booth rolled his eyes. Angela had a strange idea of 'fun'. "C'mon, Bones, let's get you home," Booth coaxed, sliding an arm around her waist. She gulped down the last of her drink then turned to smile up at him woozily.
"I like when you call me Bones," she told him, leaning into his side.
"Where is a video recorder when you want one," he muttered. She grabbed him around the waist as her feet betrayed her when she tried to take her first steps.
"Tell them to hold the floor still, Booth. I'm tryin' to walk here," she said fractiously.
Booth chuckled. "Okay, just hang onto me in case it moves again. I won't let you fall," he promised as he helped her toward the door.
"I know," she said in a serious tone that almost sounded sober. "You always take care of me," she said in a curiously sad voice.
Booth looked down at her in surprise. 'Uh-oh, looks like the mood is swinging to the maudlin end of the spectrum.' He tried to pick up their speed, but Brennan seemed to be having a hard time controlling her legs. Finally reaching the SUV, he propped her next to the passenger door so he could dig out his keys. She started sliding down just as he got the door open.
"Whoops!" she said with a grin as he grabbed her under the armpits and hoisted her up into the cab. He locked the door before closing it so she wouldn't fall out. Jogging around the vehicle, he got in and started it up. He glanced over to find her struggling with the seatbelt. Her hand/eye coordination was messed up, so she kept missing the buckle. Chuckling softly, he reached over to help her. When it clicked she looked up at him. "Thanks, Booth. You're s'good t'me."
He smiled softly in return. "Don't mention it. Now, if you start feeling sick and need me to pull over, just say so, okay?" He ducked his head a little, trying to make eye contact.
She was frowning as though trying to process what he'd just said. Finally comprehension dawned. "Sure, Booth, whatever you say. But I don't get sick. I'm healthy as a—healthy as a—" the frown was back as she searched for the word.
"Horse?" Booth supplied as he pulled out of the parking lot.
She shook her head, still frowning. "No, that's not it. I mean, how could that be it? Horshes get sick all the time. Why else would they need vetri—vetrinar—"
"Veterinarians," Booth finished. Jeez, she was even literal when she was drunk. He turned on the radio, switching to soft jazz, hoping the music would put her to sleep. It worked. Before they'd gone a block her head had lolled back against the headrest and she was snoring softly. He sighed with relief.
She slept all the way to her apartment, so pulling over was never necessary, thank God. Opening her door, Booth reached over to unlock her seatbelt and she chose that moment to wake up. Throwing her arms around his neck, she snuggled into his chest.
"You smell good," she told him.
"Thanks, Bones," he replied, wondering how much of this was her talking and how much was the liquor. Putting his arms around her, he helped her out of the vehicle and supported her while he closed the door and locked it. She started giggling hysterically as he ducked under her arm and put his arm around her waist. He started laughing too. "What's funny?" he finally asked as they made their way to her apartment.
"You called me Bones again," she said, going off in another fit of giggles. He smiled and shook his head. He had a feeling if she ever found out what she was like when she was drunk, she'd never touch another drop of liquor. He didn't want to be the one to tell her.
She insisted on trying to unlock her door, but the hand/eye coordination hadn't gotten any better, so after the second time she dropped the keys, he snatched them up and did it himself. Maneuvering her through the door, he kicked it shut with his foot and headed down the hall to her bedroom. Stopping by the bed, he eased her down to sit on the edge and knelt to remove her shoes. She grabbed him around the neck when he tried to rise.
"Booth?" she asked in a sad voice.
"Hmmm?" he replied, trying to make her lie down. She wouldn't release her death grip on his neck.
"You won't ever leave me, will you?" she asked, her voice small and scared.
He looked into her eyes and found incredible sadness there. His heart squeezed. "No, Bones, I'll never leave you," he assured her somberly.
A pair of tears rolled down her cheeks. "Everybody leaves me," she said softly. "Stay with me? Please?" she pleaded as more tears fell.
He didn't have the heart to deny her. "Okay. Now, lay down." She clutched him tighter and he was startled to find tears in his own eyes. "Bones, I need to take off my shoes, then I'll lay down and hold you, okay?"
Sniffling noisily like a five year old, she nodded and lay back, watching him intently as he removed his shoes. Turning off the light, he sat on the edge of the bed. "Scoot over," he told her. She did and then he was lying next to her and folding her into the warm comfort of his arms. With a deep sigh of contentment, she was asleep. It wasn't until much later that he fell asleep too.
Her dreams seemed to be getting more vivid, because now she was muttering aloud. He had to choke back a laugh as he caught part of what she was saying. "And I swear, that's how the monkey got the peanut butter."