Hohmygodhohmygod! First time I wrote a Bourne story and the first time I wrote from a singular perspective so yeh this story has given me tinglies. BUT my good friend the genius writer said it was good for a first time so I decided to upload this anyway. PostUltimatum. Bourne's found by an agent (who's my own character.. it might not make a lot of sense to you but it does to me). This oneshot popped into my head a couple of nights ago and I needed to write it down, yet it turned out slightly different than I had originally envisioned it. Go easy on me lol.

Disclaimer; No don't own Bones. Do own the green-eyed woman (who is so based on me but what can i say. Matt damon is sexual and yummy dangerous in the Bourne films).

Merry Xmas btw and have a good 2008.

Gone.

''It's over, Bourne.''

His back stiffened and I saw him flinch as he turned towards me. Slowly, but surely. I kept my hand still, my gun still pointing at him. My finger on the trigger ready to pull it if he made any unsudden moves. They'd warned me. They'd told me that everytime someone had almost arrested him he'd gotten away. But he wouldn't get away this time, not from me. I took a confident step towards him.

''Keep your hands where I can see them, Bourne.'' I ordered him sternly and he took his reddened and beaten hands out of his pockets. My heart skipped a beat, expecting him to strike then and shoot my with a gun he would've kept in his pocket, but he didn't. In stead his hands were empty. I couldn't help but breathe a small sigh of relief. Maybe this wasn't going to be as difficult as I thought it would be, yet I didn't push it. I needed to treat him with utter care and suspicion. He had once been a treadstone agent after all. I took a pair of handcuffs out of my backpocket and threw them towards him. He caught them without a blink of his eyes. Those steel blue eyes which displayed no emotion.

''Put them on.'' I told him and he obeyed without saying a word. Once his wrists were secured I walked closer to him, the barrel of my gun still pointing at his chest, while I took my cellphone out of my backpocket. I flipped it open.

''Wait.'' I looked up when I heard him speak and he was looking at me, meeting my eyes. His blue eyes now showed a pleading look. The first emotion I'd ever seen in those eyes.

''Wait. Please, put the gun down. I won't hurt you. I promise. Just put it down.'' I looked at him and flipped my phone shut. What was he up to? I didn't trust him.

''Why? Bourne, it's over. You've killed people I can't just let you go. They thought you were dead. I didn't buy it, I have to show them.'' Bourne didn't reply, but walked towards me slowly, his eyes not focusing on the end of my gun, but on my own green eyes. He seemed determined. Unafraid, the opposite of the way I was feeling. Even though I was armed and he wasn't I couldn't help but feeling nervous, not because he frightened me, but because I was wondering what he wanted. And why he'd managed to stop me from calling back up to take him into custody.

His cold, cuffed hand wrapped around my wrist and he slowly lowered my arm until the gun was pointing to the worn rug on the floor. I didn't take my eyes off him and he took another step closer until our bodies were almost touching. He was a good four inches taller than me and I could now see the exhaustion in his eyes, the scars on his face and the dirt in his dark hair.

Butterflies suddenly swarmed my stomach and I could feel my lips twitching into a small smile even if I didn't want them to.

One single finger lifted my chin and almost automatically my eyes closed. A warmth was beginning to pool in my stomach and then finally, after what seemed like forever, his rough lips touched mine and the butterflies in my stomach went haywire. I could feel them racing through my entire body as Bourne's strong arms closed around me and pulled me flush against his body with a passion that had been pent up for several years.

The gun dropped from my hand to the floor with a soft 'clunk' and I took the opportunity to move them underneath the dark coloured wifebeater he was wearing. The softness of the skin on his back surprised me, even though I could clearly make out scars that stretched across the skin and various hard muscles that lay underneath. Shiver after shiver ran down my spine and I think he noticed because he ran his hands up and down my back as if trying to comfort me.

Soon the kiss deepened and I found myself forgetting about the task that had been on my mind earlier. I didn't want to think about it, it didn't even occur to me that his hands were no longer cuffed. All I wanted was this and I didn't want it to end, because I couldn't get enough.

My hands seemed to live a life on their own as they roamed the man's body and after a couple of minutes his lips slowly pulled away from mine and immediately I felt the cold in the room punish my once lust deprived lips. I felt strange.

Abandoned.

I heard his footsteps move across the room yet I didn't open my eyes and when I heard the door click shut behind me I knew that the instant I'd open my eyes he'd be gone.

I opened them slowly and saw the handcuffs lying on the floor in front of me. I didn't even want to begin wondering how he'd gotten them off. All I could think about was how he'd gotten away again.

And I didn't even mind.

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