This popped in my head as I desperately searched for something to clear the cobwebs and battle back the writer's block! It's random and pointless, but undeniably fluffy, so if you're anything like me and you love unsubstanial pick me ups... then read on. If you enjoy plot or well thought out metaphors, sorry, wrong story. :)
She actually had quite a thing for him, Brennan reflected idly as she watched Seeley Booth across the club. The pulsing music thrummed through her body and the flashing strobe lights illuminated Booth in quick bursts. With each blaze of light she focused on a different body part: his jawline, his shirt fitting tightly across his chest, his hands, as well as more fascinating bits of anatomy. He was dancing with Angela, and they moved well together; Angela had no competition on the floor.
Brennan sighed and leaned back, happily content to watch the two of them. A few minutes later, the song ended and they broke apart as Angela slid into Jack Hodgin's willing arms.
For a moment Booth stood alone, surveying the crowd. When he spotted her, he grinned, a boyishly pleased expression on his face at locating her in the crowd. He set to slicing through the crowd, shouldering his way past the throng of the yuppies who typically frequented the bar. He swung his big body into the empty seat next to her, automatically sending a warning glare at the attractive blonde man who had been eyeing that empty seat and his partner.
"You miss me, Bones?" Booth gave her his best charm smile as he stole a sip of her drink. "Mm… Fruity."
"You like that stuff?" Bones asked curiously, ignoring his greeting. "I would have thought you would have equated fruit filled drinks as feminine."
Booth rolled his eyes and took another sip. "Nope. It's tasty." He playfully held the drink out of reach as she complained that he was drinking it all. With one last gulp, he beamed and held out his hand.
"Dance with me, Bones?"
"What? No," Brennan said flatly. "Of course not."
"Come on, Bones, you know you want too!" The DJ had just replaced the pulsing rap with the slow melody of a guitar ballad. Booth stood and held out his hand, ignoring the bead of sweat that trickled down the back of his neck.
"Booth, it would be embarrassing and frankly unrealistic to expect me to go out on that crowded dance floor and… sway with you."
Admiring the pink flush on her cheeks, Booth lifted her easily up in his arms, ignoring Jack and Angela's cheers and Brennan's brief struggling. After a moment she relented, glaring at him as he approached the very outskirts of the dance floor and set her down, gently, oh so gently on her feet. One foot caught the floor and he eased the other to rest atop his own foot.
"There," he breathed in her ear as she leaned in closely against him, clutching him around to waist to keep from falling, "this isn't so bad, is it?"
"This is completely and totally," she let out a contented sigh as she inhaled Booth's unmistakable scent. He smelled like soap and the slightest bit like sweat, enough to send her mind reeling to another time where he might smell that way. "…totally… humiliating," she said softly, not sounding embarrassed in the slightest.
As the music continued, they hardly moved as Booth kept her close to him. He gently ran a hand through her hair, protectively shielding her body from the jostling crowds. As if of the same mind, they pulled briefly apart and stared down at their feet a moment later.
The giant cast of Brennan's broken ankle rested on top of Booth's shoe, while she kept her balance by leaning heavily on her other foot and him. Unable to keep back a giggle, she buried her face in Booth's neck. "Oh Booth, this is embarrassing. People are going to think I'm a crazy person who goes to clubs with broken ankles and preys on unwilling men."
Smiling mildly down at her, he tilted his head to the side. "I'm quite willing. And they aren't thinking anything of the sort. They're wondering how I got to be such a lucky bastard."
"Ut uh, that charm won't work on me, tough guy," Brennan said, looking him squarely in the eye. "If I had full use of both my legs, I'd pound you for making me dance out here like a lunatic and for caveman-dragging me across the floor."
Their playful banter was interrupted as a kissing couple promptly backed into Booth, causing him to stumble slightly and for Brennan to let out a soft hiss of pain as her ankle jostled.
"Sonofa… watch it!" Booth glared angrily at the couple and then anxiously turned back to his unwilling dance partner. "You okay, Bones? I'm sorry. I meant to keep you close enough to prevent you from hurting your ankle even more."
At seeing the anger in her eyes, though whether it was from the pain in her ankle or his presumption that she couldn't take care of herself, Booth's heart fell. He helped stand, letting her lean on him as they limped back to the bar and to Brennan's crutches.
They settled back on the seats, though Booth was still pensive and angry at himself for allowing his playful notions to interfere with Brennan's safety. A hand threaded her fingers through his and he looked up to meet Brennan's gaze.
"Thanks for the dance, Booth," she said, giving him a small smile, all signs of anger dissipated. "I really was looking forward to one. You're the only guy sweet and crazy enough to try something like that."
"Is that why you married me?"
Brennan pulled his hands and he indulgently leaned over enough so that she could place a kiss on his lips. After a moment, he smiled against her mouth, thinking he would never get tired of the feeling of her lips brushing his. When they pulled apart, his eyes were soft as he gazed at his wife and hers were sparkling.
"That…" she trailed off and then regained her word trail with an impish grin, "and the fact that you have a really great body," she looked him up and down suggestively, while Booth tightened his grip on her hand and laughed until his sides hurt.