Read and enjoy!
Giving props: Santa blacklisted me so the characters and fictitious places of "Bones" aren't mine- the plot I dress them up in is. Title's from "Falling" by Stain'd (please don't worry about listening to it while you read).
Chapter 1
He's sitting on the bed, covers kicked to the side, large back against her headboard positioned near an open window overlooking the 1am bustle of streets cloaked in a slight September chill. Black boxer briefs hug his chiseled naked body; brown hair showing signs of constant finger-raking. Head lowered in frustration, he hangs an arm off his only bent knee and lay waits in the dark bedroom.
Brennan enters, careful not to make too much 'stiletto-on-wood' noise. Too lost in her head, she doesn't notice Booth is awake, studying her every move. At the dresser, she drops her purse then fingers the bottom of her sweater. It's covering her face when the lamp turns on. She yanks it off to see what startled her.
"Hey Bones", Booth flatly greets his unsuspecting girlfriend.
"Booth" she breathes, "you scared me. I didn't mean to wake you."
"How was the movie?"
"Good. I enjoyed it."
"That's good. How's Angela?"
"Angela's fine" she smiles, turning her topless body around to open a drawer.
"Glad to hear it. Oh, before I forget," he feigns remembrance, "Angela called me earlier and told me to tell you she can't meet up for breakfast tomorrow cuz of a meeting at her gallery, but will make it up to you over the weekend."
Brennan's movements freeze, meeting his no longer smiling face in the mirror. She wonders when he left the bed as he's now standing a few strides away. His fiery body and posture scream 'intimidator!' She looks away as he continues, restrained and deadly.
"Said she called you a bunch of times but your phone was off so she called me to make sure everything was alright."
His smell and size crowd her personal space, forcing her to face his solid frame. Brennan desperately digs through her brain for any genius thought or self defense strategy to help her. Nothing comes up. She decides eye contact is best avoided. Booth is a reader and eyes are like cliff notes. She forgets that evidence trumps suspicion and, in this situation, Booth could incriminate her over the phone.
"So Bones," his palms grip the polished wood surface at her sides, "who were you with tonight?"
She squirms under the pressure of his question.
"I said: Who. Were. You. With?!" he spits out a bit louder.
What's going on? Who was Brennan lying to Booth about being with?