This is my first ever attempt at writing something like this. I love Bones, and this was a little something that just popped into my head after watching some reruns of the show and seeing the episodes from the new season and thought I would share.
Disclaimer: I do not own Bones, or any of the characters that are used in this story. All belong to Hart Hanson & company at Fox. With that said, let the story begin.
I honestly do not remember my life before this – before loving Booth, before Christine entered our lives, before everything I thought I knew and wanted turned out to be the very things that I didn't want. I mean, I remember, it just seems like so long ago. Being a forensic anthropologist had been my life for so long. I depended on no one. Life was easier then, I thought, because I had kept myself so guarded, so shielded from the world. It was just me, and I was perfectly fine with that.
But somewhere, somehow, that changed. Somewhere along the way I fell in love and I didn't even realize it until it was almost too late. You would have thought nearly being murdered several times would have clued me into it. But it didn't. The Eanes case gave me that insight. Laura Eanes had lived her life in such seclusion, and lost her chance at love. I didn't want that for myself, but Booth was with Hannah. That night he saved me, like he had so many times before, and I finally told him the truth – I wanted to try, but it was too little, too late.
Time went on and Hannah eventually left. Booth was hurt and needed time and space to mend his heart. We both knew there was something still between us and we thought we had time. And then, Vincent was murdered. At the time, I didn't understand Vincent's passing, other than it was tragic and I blamed myself. May be that was when I finally understood how fragile life is – which is funny given my profession. It was in the early morning hours while I lay on Booth's couch sobbing and not understanding that I sought out his strength and kindness. That was the night that I tested my theory and let my imperviousness finally go.
**************************Flashback**************************************************
Laying in Booth's arms I cry until there are no more tears. He shifts a bit and brings his hand to my face as he gently brushes away the final tears running down my cheek. Our eyes meet, and I realize that he has shed a few of his own.
"If you had been the one to answer the phone. . . I don't know how I could have survived losing you," I say in barely a whisper. "Losing you would have killed me, Booth."
As he begins to open his mouth, I quickly cover it with my own. There is nothing in the world but us, and I can feel how much he loves me. Moving his hand to my shoulder, he abruptly ends the kiss. "Bones, I'm sorry. . . I shouldn't. . . you're grieving. . ."
Bringing my fingers to his lips as he tries to finish his sentence, I interrupt. "While I am grieving, I am also thankful. . . thankful that it wasn't you that died in the lab. Booth, I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to be open about how I am feeling. But what is going on right now in this moment - I so desperately want. Please let me show you what I can't fully articulate."
Booth, searching my pleading eyes, brings his hand to cup my cheek in the gentlest caress. Moving the hand whose fingers had been previously resting upon his lips, to his cheek as mimicking his actions, I inch closer to bring my mouth back to his. He begins accepting my actions without reservation, and the tension and doubt soon leaves his body. I feel his hands beginning to explore my body from the outside of the sweatshirt he had lent me. Our kissing becomes more passionate, and even erotic to a degree. Slowly we shifted from lying on our sides to rising to our knees on the bed never breaking the kiss as our hands begin to roam and our exploration of each other begins.
It's only when I feel his fingers begin to grasp the hem of the sweatshirt that I pull away forcibly. "Bones, I'm sorry, I. . ." Booth stops mid-sentence as he sees my smile and understands that I only pulled away so that we could rid ourselves of the barriers of clothing we each are wearing. I allow him to undress me, as slow as he likes before I do the same to him. We stare at each other, exploring with our eyes and hands, never wanting the night to end.
Our kissing soon resumes, and the next thing I know Booth is lowering me to the mattress, one hand supporting my weight as he lowers me and the other continuing to explore my body – roaming from my cheek to my clavicle, down to my breast, over my stomach to my thigh as one of my hands remains on the side of his face and the other rests on his chest. He begins his descent, as his mouth follows the same route as his hand had. As he reaches my belly, I fill his strong hand push at the back of my thigh. Looking up at me as if seeking permission, I nod. He settles his head and shoulders between my legs and as he gently pushes my left leg back and begins licking and sucking. It doesn't take long before I have to tell him to stop.
"Booth, please. . . I need you, I want you. . . make love to me," I say gasping. Booth, rising to climb up my body, drags his hand slowly from my thigh back up along my curves until it is at my face brushing away a few stray hairs. "Are you sure you want this? I love you, Temperance Brennan, with all of my heart. I have for a long time, but I have to know that you're sure because I won't be able to go back." Taking in a breath and looking into his eyes, I honestly answer, "I've never been so positive of anything in my life. Please, Booth. Please make love to me," I whisper in his ear.
Kissing me as fully as he can, he enters me. In that moment I surge from bliss to pain, from pleasure to agony, from happiness to sadness and every other emotion the human mind can fathom, and some that it can't. Booth feels my body tense, and stills inside of me. "Are you ok, Bones?" he asks. I take a breath and grin as I speak, "It's been awhile for me. Just give me a second. . ." I say as I savor every bit of the sensation that I am feeling. My body soon relaxes and he knows that I am ok and begins to move.
*********************End Flashback****************************************************
I smile as I remember that early morning, that fantastic life changing morning. It was the first morning that Booth and I had ever made love. It was the first morning that I knew he loved me, and the first morning I admitted to loving him. It was a morning that had been filled with fear and sorrow and the ending of a life. It was a morning that had made me reprioritize my life, and in turn became a morning that saw a two lives being created – the one that had Booth and I coming together finally as a couple, and then the other that I wouldn't know about for several more weeks.
Yes, it's odd to try to remember my life before loving Booth and having Christine. Perhaps because, for me, my life did not actually begin until I realized that I have and always will love Booth.