Waking up next to you…everything is right
Prologue
TITLE- Waking Up Next To You…
PAIRING- Brennan/ Booth (duh!)
SUMMARY- I was inspired to write this after the Season 4 finale, but I'm only just getting round to it now. What if instead of Booth being in the coma and having the whole fantasy world, it was Brennan? What would it be like? Would she wake up? And if she did, which would she prefer- reality or fantasy?
DISCLAIMER- Now really- do people really think that I own the show? Because if I did, Brennan and Booth would have just been getting it ever since the start. Honestly.
The room was bathed in dark. The only light was the soft glow creeping in from the crack underneath the door, that spilled the light from the living room into the pitch black of the bedroom. A clock ticked; it was rhythmic, and soothing, and echoed through the silence like a heartbeat. Out of the window, shielded from view by the curtains, was a fantastic view of the city, the stars set perfectly in the sky above, the flashing bursts from the late night/ early morning traffic far below.
Brennan, oblivious to everything, slept solidly. Her pale skin glowed white in the dark, emphasized by the contrast between its creamy tones and the strong red of her camisole. Her hair fell in waves around her head, glossy and soft. Temperance Brennan was one of the rare women in the town that could look her best with tousled hair, no make up, and simple clothes (although the word simple was stretched a little when describing her current night-time attire; a crimson camisole, low cut, and edged in lace, revealing the top of a intricate black bra, and small little white shorts.)
Brennan rolled over, snuggling down into the soft linen covers. The temperature was decreasing rapidly, and for the first time in a long time, she had left the central heating on when she had come to bed. She had been up till late, as usual; she always was, ignoring the orders to not worry. How can I not worry? She would think to herself. And she was right. On nights like this, yes, she would sleep, but her dreams would be strange, and odd, lacking something, until he returned.
It was 2 a.m when he got back. Brennan had woken, straining to hear the front door, and when she heard the familiar click she immediately relaxed-he was back.
Brennan didn't get up; she let him come to her. Surely enough, after a few minutes, the bedroom door swung open with a draft of cold air, and she shivered as she heard quiet footsteps. She listened carefully- she heard the thump of shoes being discarded, the rustle of fabric as he undressed. By the time she felt the other side of the bed dipping with the new weight, she was desperate for him. But, this was just one of those things, like not going out to greet him when he returned. It was something they did, a ritual, a signal of normalcy returning after the regular intervals of being apart.
Brennan kept her eyes shut as he slipped underneath the covers. She bit her lip as she felt the heat radiating from his body. When his talented fingers crept round to spread slowly across her stomach, she jumped.
Brennan heard him smile, as he moved his head closer to hers.
"I know you're awake." He whispered teasingly. Brennan, trying not to giggle at how well he knew her, and how much she missed sharing a bed with him, rolled slowly over, keeping her face straight.
"You're late." She told him simply, as she drank the sight of him in. He looked exactly the same; every time he left she was worried that when he came back, he would have a new scar or bruise marking him, reminding both of them where he had been. Not this time. As she searched his face she was relieved to see that there was no sign of warfare…as for the rest of his body, I'll have to see later, she thought. Booth saw her exhale deeply, saw her face flush slightly, and as usual, immediately guessed what she was thinking.
"My flight was delayed." Booth told her, leaning closer and pressing his large hands onto the small of her back, caressing the soft skin he found there.
" I waited up for you. But eventually, I had to admit defeat." Brennan smiled, as she felt Booth's fingers on her back, moving down under her shorts to trail across her underwear. She smiled with satisfaction as she saw the look on his face when he felt the skimpy garment, with the thin lace that matched the bra. Booth swallowed.
"Now I really am sorry I was late." He murmured, and his hands crept underneath her camisole. Brennan made no attempt to stop him; she enjoyed the look on his face as he realised that her bra matched her panties. As his hand instinctively cupped her breast, she moaned and arched up into his palm. He swallowed again, and a predatory look came into his eyes.
"How about I make it up to you?" Booth whispered quietly, his eyes burning with lust. Brennan didn't have the strength to carry on her games; it had taken all of her strength not to jump him as soon as he entered the room. Immediately, he flipped them over, so he was on top of her. He captured her mouth in a smouldering kiss.
"Good to have you back." Brennan teased breathlessly, as she lifted her arms so that he could tug her camisole over her head, revealing the tempting bra,
"It's good to be back." He promised her fervently with a groan, as he pulled the fabric to one side and bent his head down…
Later on, as they were laying side by side, trying to catch their breath, Brennan realised that she wouldn't change her life for anything.
There were, admittedly aspects that bothered her. Her fiancé disappearing off for weeks at a time depending on the whim of his boss was high at the top of that list. She disliked what Booth had to do when he was away, she disliked his job. He was a good man, she would swear down her soul on that fact, but she still didn't like it. At work, her colleagues had partners who were doctors, lawyers, or even store owners. And her? She was going to be married to a sniper.
It might have been easier for her if his job wasn't so demanding. Take this time for example; this was the first time she had seen Booth in over a week. He had been called out to Iraq, to help sort out a "problem"- Brennan never really liked to ask about the details, she preferred to keep the peace, and keep it all covered up. If they didn't talk about it, she didn't have to think about it.
There was another problem weighing on her mind, too- her eyes flickered to her bag over on the dresser and she closed her eyes. The fan mail was still coming thick and fast, and her old editor, after months of pleading, had taken a new approach- refusing to sort through the mail for her.
"Hell, if I can't get you to see sense, Brennan, maybe the fan letters will!" She had said. Brennan respected Caroline, but she still felt exasperated at her total lack of understanding.
When she had had to make her choice six months ago, it hadn't been easy; choose between working in the lab, a job she had enjoyed for years, that had shaped her and allowed her to meet some of the most important people in her life, or her writing career. Her books were critically praised, hitting the top of all the bestseller lists. She liked writing them, and she loved the sense of accomplishment when she got feedback from people who had read her work. But it had all become too much. She had had, what some people call, a total breakdown. Brennan was sure that she could carry on, that she was fine, but her parents and Booth forced her to see sense. She had to choose, and she chose working in the lab. She told her family, she told her editor, she had explained in easy terms so they could see what she meant, but Caroline just didn't understand. And from the piles of pleading, despairing fan mail that arrived at the lab by the sack load, her fans just didn't get it either.
But lying here, next to Booth, it all seemed so pointless. She couldn't worry about things so trivial, when she was in the happiest relationship she had ever had. She loved Booth. She remembered his proposal, the way he had decorated his apartments with candles, cooking her a romantic meal before asking her…
Brennan lifted her hand before her face, and looked at the ring. It was beautiful, and she had told Booth this more than once. The fact that she had cried when he had given it to her might have been a clue anyway. She never had quite been able to control her emotions in moments like that.
Lying there, somewhere between very late at night, and very early in the morning, finally reunited with her fiancé, Brennan's problems seemed insignificant.
For now.
X0X0
Sorry that this is a filler chapter- I do find them annoying too but it was necessary to ease into the story, and I added fluffy stuff to make up for it. I hope you enjoyed it, and please review for more!
I love reviews. A lot. Just saying.