*whistles* A little something that hopefully will allow me to find the missing Point B in the upcoming chap of Defining Booth… (got Point A and Point C, but the connection between the two is being difficult)
This is the 10 song/iPod Shuffle challenge I've seen floating around. A little harder than I thought, stopping when the music does, not to mention no polishing! But a good exercise.
Santiago by Loreena McKennitt
Maxwell's Silver Hammer by the Beatles
Caribbean Blue by Enya
Sugar Walls by Sheena Easton
Cruel Summer by Bananarama
How Can I Live Without Her? from The Pirate Movie
Let the River Run by Carly Simon
Russians by Sting
Willkommen from Cabaret
Winter by Tori Amos
T for one section.
Edit: forgot the disclaimer! Not mine, in any way, shape or form!
Santiago
Brennan listened to the music, wondering what Booth would think if he came in and caught her practicing. She had shared many of her accomplishments over their partnership, but the belly-dancing had never come up. But it was good exercise and fun, too.
She lightly hummed along with the music as she swung her hips, matching the rhythm. Not a traditional piece for what she was doing, but it had the right feel and gave scope for some embellishments. And she gave it her all, completely caught up in the ebb and flow, the drums and flutes.
So caught up, in fact, that she never heard the knock on the door nor it opening. Only when the music stopped did she see her partner leaning against the wall, eyes wide and a huge smile on his mouth.
*
Maxwell's Silver Hammer
Maxwell lurked over his test tubes, watching the leading ladies of the Medico-Legal Lab. Oh, how he wished he could get just one of them alone. Just for a minute, he thought, fingering the silver pendent his mother had given him before he left for DC. Just one minute, and then they'd be his, all his, forever…
But there was a noise behind him and he jumped, knocking over at least one beaker. It was Agent Booth, the one person who truly kept him from what he desired. He was simply going to have to settle for lesser lights. But they weren't going to be looking for him, not with all those testimonials he had been able to present when hired.
(ahem--obviously not Max Keenan)
*
Caribbean Blue
"I don't want to be here," Booth said sourly.
"Too bad," Brennan replied coolly. "You insisted on tagging along, and this is where I was going."
He looked out at the intensely blue water. Admittedly, the last time he had been here in the Caribbean, it hadn't been for pleasure. Gitmo was not a vacation spot.
He turned and looked up at the towering walls of El Morro, pretending to be a tourist until there was a familiar and cheerful voice behind him.
"Tempe! Booth!"
"Sully," he said, forcing his voice to calm as he turned to face Brennan's old boyfriend.
*
Sugar Walls
Brennan looked at her partner sprawled out in her bed next to her. After more than five years of being partners, then friends, then something she didn't actually have words for that encompassed both, they had finally done it. Fallen in bed together, frantically kissing and tasting each other as though the other was about to disappear; he had murmured things about sugar and honey, but she didn't question it, too lost in the sensations he provoked. And then, they had made love all night--he had barely left her and she had been equally reluctant to let him slide out of her.
Her eyes sparkled in the early morning light. Oh, she very much wanted to do that again.
*
Cruel Summer
DC was experiencing a heat wave and part of Booth was glad he was inside for the most part. Still on medical leave and unable to pick up his life as it had been was driving him insane. But the worst part of it was that Bren--Bones, he corrected himself firmly. He knew who she was, really he did, but when his mind wandered like that, the other name slid in.
The worst thing was that she wasn't there. She'd taken off as soon as the doctor said something about him recovering, and Booth missed her like nobody else. He worried about her, off in Guatemala; it was dangerous there.
Not that you were guaranteed health and safety here, either. The irony of Pops having surgery at the same time was not lost on him.
*
Russians
Seeley crouched low in the gap between his bed and the wall, listening to his parents fight. Or rather, his father yelling. He had sacrificed some of his comics, letting Jared read them, so that he wouldn't go downstairs and get smacked. Now, his little brother was contentedly paging through Seeley's favorite Green Lantern, right in the very corner.
Finally, the door slammed and the car's engine gunned and he knew his dad was safely gone. Soft footsteps climbed the stairs and when the door opened, he peeked over the bed to see his mother enter with a pained smile.
*
How can I live without her?
He watched her walk away, in complete shock how it had all ended. Brutally fast and over something that six months ago neither of them would have ever questioned. A year and a half gone, just like that.
That night, he sank back in the deepest recliner he had, flipped on some numbing TV, and opened the first of many beers, and drank himself into oblivion.
It didn't help that when he woke, the first thing he saw was a picture of her from their faux honeymoon after the wedding that wasn't.
*
Let the River Run
When had he noticed how her eyes changed? Originally, he had noted them as mostly blue, along with her other basic stats, just as he did with everyone. But somewhere along the line, he realized they really weren't blue. Not the way people usually defined blue eyes. No, they were actually more often grey. Once in a while green. A romantic at heart, he decided on aquamarine finally and started paying attention to the changes. Bluish-grey was their usual color, but the blue deepened with some deeper emotions; in fact, they shifted to a clear blue when he complimented her and he wanted to see that more often.
*
Willkommen
"What in Hell is she saying?" Booth hissed.
"Beats me," Angela said with a shrug, sipping her drink as though nothing was wrong. Booth had to admire her composure and took a large swig of his beer to cover his own discomfort.
Another torrent of words spilled from Brennan's mouth. German, he thought, or Russian. Too choppy to be Spanish or French.
An hand slid up his arm in what he knew was meant to be a seductive gesture. "American, yes?" the accented voice asked. "So--handsome," she laughed. "You help wit' my English? I am a very cun-ning linguist."
Angela choked, but Booth turned to look at the woman. Pretty enough, he supposed, heavily made-up, as might be expected, and a view that rivaled the Alps if he looked down. He shook his head, and jerked his head towards Brennan who was now listening to whatever the bartender was saying. "Sorry. Taken."
She pouted, then looked at Angela, who grinned. "You tempt me, but no."
*
Winter
"Tempe! Come back here," Christine Brennan hollered as her daughter ran outside into the new snow. "Oh, that girl," she sighed, slapping the mittens against her thigh. "She's going to freeze."
Matthew chuckled behind her. "I'll get her. Or at least get her to put these on," he added, taking them from his wife. "And yes, button up, too. But relax, Chris--it's the first snow of the year."
Christine smiled at that. It was good to see her so-serious daughter let go. "Take them and be gone, then. Otherwise, you're nursing her through her first cold."
"That's not what causes a cold and you know it," he laughed before taking off after Tempe.
A snowball thrown with wicked aim landed on his chest and he looked up to see her, eyes a blue to match the winter sky dancing.
"Button up," he called to her, hoping she would never change.
*