Disclaimer : I do not own Bones or any of it's characters
Ok, I'm just gonna kinda run with this and see where it takes me. There will definitely be more chapters and I'm hoping to kinda write my own season two until the show starts back up again. HH has revealed apparently that there will be a real lip lock in season 4, so that will hopefully make the advancement of their relationship in this story not quite so farfetched. I'm a firm believer though that Booth and Brennen will do whatever they can to fight crossing that line even as their bodies and hearts betray their rationality. I do not believe that it will be a romantic, We made love now we're together forever. I believe that it will be stop and start and creating much amusement with the awkwardness and whatnot as people slowly pick up on it at the lab, hopefully over season 4 and 5. I do not want Bones and Booth to be officially together for a while yet as I get so excited over every little tidbit right now that I feel it would slightly ruin it.
The Fantasy in the Anthropologist
A part of her hoped that she would wake up soon and find this was all a dream. That same part of her also feared that possibility. The reason that one part of her felt both conflicting emotions was because it was the only part of herself that she allowed to waste it's time reflecting on the past which she could not alter. Such hopes and fears were useless. It was the one place where science had failed her, not taught her how to completely rationalize emotions. They are just chemicals within the body really, so why couldn't she discount them? Why couldn't she ignore them? It amazed her how these chemicals could cause tears in her eyes when her brain said that it was a waste of her bodies effort. It wouldn't change anything. The chemicals rushing through her seek to dilute themselves by releasing water from the tear ducts; as if that could make a difference. She wondered briefly if she felt so angry and betrayed because she refused to allow that dilution.
The whole group has a few days off of work, as if any amount of time could make it feel normal to be back in the lab, in her safe haven...without Zach. She remembered how robotic he had been when they had tested a knife on a dummy in the lab to determine what body weight best fit the evidence. Had he been so unemotional when he'd murdered the lobbyist? Had he behaved like it was a dummy in the lab?
After reminiscing in the lab with her team, she had sat with Booth for a few minutes before she stopped finding his presence comforting and resorted back to anger. Not having enough energy to pick another fight, she had just left. She hadn't seen Booth for a couple days now. He had tried to call her but she wasn't ready to go there again yet, so she hadn't answered.
Her reactions to him were scaring her. She had never been so angry at someone, yet wanted to be near them so badly, in her entire life. When she busted into his bathroom to argue, she had wanted more than to just be near him. She had never seen anything as gorgeous as Booth standing before her naked and soaking wet. His body is really well proportioned and his muscles defined. He's a very well structured male specimen as she had once told him. When he stood up that night she was not taking inventory of all the muscles and the bones beneath them. In that moment she looked at him threw the eyes of a woman, not a forensic anthropologist.
"I took a bullet for you!" "Once! That only goes so far" He hadn't picked up on the meaning within that statement. There were so many other things that she needed from him but could never ask for. One grand gesture didn't make up for all the other things that she felt she lacked from him sometimes. One thing she was lacking seemed very obvious. They'd stared at eachother for a few minutes, both weighing their options until reality kicked in. They were still partners and that damn line still existed, so she offered him a towel. What she'd really wanted was for him to step towards her. Despite her anger she had been aroused. Her nipples tightened at the thought of his wet chest pressed against her own, the water cooling between the two of them, removing some of the friction that she so desperately craved from him. So many details of what having sex with Booth would be like swam through her head in that very short time. She'd imagined his eyes continuing to bore into hers while he stepped forward pushing her up against the vanity. His body imprinted on her where her clothing had been dampened by him. It had sent a slight chill through her just thinking about it.
Never breaking eye contact he would have grabbed her around the thighs and lifted her onto the vanity, spreading her legs in the effort. His hands would move back to her lower back, where she was used to having them, and press her against him; his wetness to hers. Any doubt about his intentions removed. He would be breathing heavily and she barely at all, afraid to miss what would happen next. She would slowly gyrate against his cock, wanting more contact, almost whimpering cause it's being withheld.
"If that only goes so far Bones, what else do you need?" He would whisper this into her ear while his thumb lightly caressed her nipple. No other contact but that between their pelvis', his fingers lightly on her side and his thumb on her breast. So little contact really, yet even sex had never compared to it for her. The memory of what played through her head was still so vivid that she almost can't believe it wasn't real.
At that point she would have grasped him roughly behind the head, knocking his ridiculous beer hat to the floor, neither of them caring, and pulled his lips to hers. At the same time her legs would clench behind him. If she had no clothes on she had no doubt that she'd be pulling him inside of her where she was so ready for him already. As it was, it created just enough friction on her clit to be frustrating as hell without giving any real satisfaction. She would immediately thrust her tongue into his mouth in rhythm with the clenching her legs, trying to mimic the action that she had so wished was taking place. He'd groan into her mouth and due to their proximity she would have felt it everywhere, not just in her mouth, but still not as much as she'd like.
She'd reach down to the hem of her shirt and pull it off as if burned. His hot mouth would instantly be on her, her hands running down his still glistening back finally feeling all his muscles underhand. His tongue would play in little circles at her cleavage as he nipped every now and again, pleasure overwhelming any pain. As one hand reached behind her and undid the hooks to her bra, the other would reach down in between them and rub her between her very wide open legs. At this point she could imagine that Booth would moan out her name. She loved the idea of him being turned on from touching her and it was her fantasy after all. She'd arch forward in anticipation already wanting to rub against him, her arms and legs clutching him to her, proving to her that he wasn't dead. He pulled the bra away and kissed her desperately, bordering on rough. She could feel her lips swelling as their teeth clashed while their tongues fought for dominance.
Now both of his hands would have reached up to cup her and tweak and pull her nipples then lightly sooth them, sensitizing the peaks until she could barely stand it when he removed the friction that only he could provide her. His hands being on her breasts would afford her the room to finally reach down and stroke him. She could imagine him hard and throbbing in her hand, thrusting out to great her, wanting more of her. After seeing the size of him when he stood she had been itching to do that in reality as well as fantasy. She would wrap her fingers around him, relishing the effect she had on him and the lack of control he would have as he bit down slightly on her lip while his tongue tickled it at the same time.
Imagining the lack of control she could cause him though did nothing to help with her current situation. She was angry at him and she was scared. She wanted him to prove how alive he was, and at the same time she didn't want to picture him so vividly alive cause it would make it harder if that were to ever change. She knew she'd have to face him soon and actually talk to him because he would insist. He would say that as partners they needed to be in sync, that as the centre, they had to hold now more than ever. She was anxious to get back to work and try to find her new groove in what felt like an entirely new life. Work always helped.