Strangers
Written By: writingforthemoney (Tied)
Pairing: BB
Rating: T Plus; for the mention of and/or the suggestive nature of sexual themes.
Summary: The first time Booth and Brennan met, in my eyes. And then when they met at the Jeffersonian.
Disclaimer: I don't own Bones or anything related to Bones…the song STANGERS IN THE NIGHT is by Frank Sinatra… and the only thing other than the plot that I own (minus the bits that are actually factual with the show) is the character Jonathan … I think … if you don't recognize somebody else I probably own them.
A/N: In a Spanish class we were watching a movie over Argentina; there was a segment where they talked about Tango. They said that the tango was a dance, in which Argentina two people who had never met before, could dance so intimately together and then after the music ended, they went back to their own lives, some never seeing each other again. This story is partly inspired by that segment.
A/N2: And El Lagarto means "the alligator" I just kind of thought that it sounded much more cool in Spanish.
A/N3: I started writing this before I actually knew the whole truth behind Booth and Rebecca and Parker… so … if something's wrong just excuse it as the errors of not seeing the first season except for in recent re-runs…
A/N4: In case it isn't clear the first two little paragraphs are present day and then it flashbacks for I think two or three more paragraphs and then starts back in the present… I'm not sure if it's clear or not… but to the people that I've had read it, it seemed to be clear… or they just didn't say anything…!? I'm sorry!
Chapter 1: Strangers in El Lagarto
Strangers in the night
Exchanging glances
Wondering in the night
What were the chances
We'd be sharing love
Before the night was through
Her day had been rough; and she had found a couple nights ago that the dark, foggy atmosphere of El Lagarto was just what she needed, along with the vodka she'd just gulped down, at the bar. She let out a deep breath as she waved at the bartender for another drink. A week ago she'd gotten a call at the Jeffersonian requesting that she come to Argentina to help identify the skeletal remains, believed to be involved in a political conspiracy. Only her boss knows the true reason of her trip, everyone else, including her best friend, Angela, thought and still thinks that it's just a rare vacation.
Something in your eyes
Was so inviting
Something in your eyes
Was so exciting
Something in my heart
Told me I must have you
This case was getting to him. He needed to relax, to calm down and just forget about everything going on; this case, the problems back in the States; Rebecca, namely. He had found a few days ago that El Lagarto was just the place to do this. He sat heavily on the bar stool, and gruffly ordered a drink. He hoped she would show tonight, and somewhere in the back of his mind he had no doubt that she would. From that first night when she'd glided onto the stool beside him, she had him, completely. Something about those eyes and the undertones in her voice; it all told him that she was under a bit of the same stress he was. Because of this, he'd said yes.
Strangers in the night
Two lonely people
We were strangers in the night
Up to the moment when we said our first hello
Little did we know
Love was just a glance away
A warm embracing dance away
Her first night in town was half spent here, watching the locals and the tourists interact with one another, and blowing about ten guys off. She wasn't used to that much attention, in the states she was what her latest, former boyfriend called; too cocky, and always trying to change and correct everyone. Angela's parting words of advice to her were, "Bren, sweetie, try to have some fun. Don't, somehow, come upon a body and have an excuse to work. Let your hair down, met a guy, drink, have a fling, just don't find away to work the whole time your there!"
She had noticed the second night at the bar, a gruffly, handsome man with a rough bit of stubble on his face. He had sit two stools over and ordered some Spanish drink; at the time she wasn't paying much attention to his words or she would have known the liquor, but she was distracted by the way his shirt was loosely buttoned, a bit of skin peeking out from the top. His lightly tanned complexion, and slightly awkward accent told her he wasn't a local. "Let your hair down, met a guy, drink, have a fling…" Angela's words ran through her mind. She threw back her alcohol and let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Then straightening from her stool she scooted one over and sighed to herself, not believing she was doing this.
His head rolled around his neck, and then after the complete revolution it dropped into his waiting hands. He had been 'volunteered' for this undercover assignment a week ago. And no matter what the danger, he was so willing to get away from her he'd said yes. His girlfriend was really starting to bother him, he had gone to do the right thing but found that she could care less about the 'right thing'. He had then walked out.
He sighed once more, Why wouldn't she want me? After all, it wasn't all her doing that had put her in the condition she was in. I played a very --? Breaking him from his reverie, a strikingly beautiful woman was at his side, speaking softly, "You look like you could use a dance." It was at that moment, when he followed her out onto the dance floor, in which he forgot about Rebecca and all his other problems.
Strangers in the night
Exchanging glances
Wondering in the night
What were the chances
We'd be sharing love
Before the night was through
That was why she had come back the rest of the nights. That night they had silently made a promise that they'd be back the next night, and neither had broken their pact.
He sensed her the moment he walked in the door, but before letting her know of his presence, he watched her. He watched her hand lightly cup the glass in which her vodka had been. He watched her wave to the bartender for her regular second glass. His eyes had noticed how amazing she was to look at that first night. But right now, with her oblivious to the fact that his eyes where roaming her body, he saw that she was so much more than that first impression. Whether it was the silk red dress or the way the low bodice of it dipped seductively low, he wasn't sure, but in that moment he wanted so much more than dancing.
Strangers in the night
Exchanging glances
Wondering in the night
What were the chances
We'd be sharing love
Before the night was through
Tonight, she hadn't noticed him walk in until after she'd finished her second vodka, that's when she felt him. She felt him all over her. His eyes were roaming over her body and she could feel it. She turned from the stool and stood to stand face to face with him. The man that had haunted her dreams the past few nights. The man who in her dreams caused her to want so much more than dancing. But for tonight, and forevermore, dancing was all that they'd ever share.
Strangers in the night
Two lonely people
We were strangers in the night
Up to the moment when we said our first hello
Little did we know
Love was just a glance away
A warm embracing dance away
He smiled to her, she smiled to him. They walked out onto the dance floor as the music began. It was the same music they'd danced to every night this week, yet they never tired of it. They never tired of the locals watching them, wondering where these tourists had learned to dance their native dance. They never tired of being in each others arms or the way her dress always flitted against his legs. Or the way his eyes bore into her soul, the way his arms wrapped completely around her, the way his hands left a trail of fire in their quake, the way his hips swayed as they connected with hers, the way his face was mere inches away, the way his lips teased her in a dip.
She had once heard that the Tango was just making love on the dance floor, often with people watching; it was that intimate. She's always thought that to be able to pull of the passion the dance required, the dancers would have to be lovers. Yet here she was, with a man whom she only met three days ago, whom she's never kissed, and who she's never made love with, outside of her dreams; and they had the passion, they had everything. She wondered if he had a girlfriend back in, wherever he was from, but she honestly didn't care, he was hers for tonight and had been hers, for the past two.
He loved the feel of her in his arms. He wished this could never end, but he knew it was going to have to, sometime. As soon as this case was closed, he'd have to go back to the states, and he'd never see her again. He groaned at the thought, but then smiled as she looked up, worried for him. He loved the intimacy of their dance. The first night it had been shy, but good. But now, neither of them were shy, neither of them honestly cared what the other did to them. One hand at her neck, and the other on her posterior, and a nice one at that; in the dress she wore, said posterior, was brilliantly sculpted and screamed for his touch, which he so willingly gave.
Something in your eyes
Was so inviting
Something in your eyes
Was so exciting
Something in my heart
Told me I must have you
As the music ended, they stopped, suddenly frozen in place. Her hands, one at his neck and the other in his hair; his hands still in their previous positions, each breathed deeply waiting for their partners release. When release finally came, they walked silently back to their bar stools. The bartender brought her usual daiquiri over. "When she first comes in she's depressed and tired--vodka's her drink, two in fact. After being with her boyfriend she's happy and vibrant—she drinks a daiquiri," the bartender had told his wife, who often watched the customers and was particularly interested in the two strangers who seemed to be lovers.
Since the night she had asked him to dance and he accepted, no words had been spoken, their eyes said everything. Everything that is except for goodbye; she hadn't taken as long as she thought she would on the decaying suspect and she had a flight out of Argentina in the morning. He stared into her eyes and smiled. She returned his and bit her lower lip, "I'm leaving in the morning." She sighed.
His eyes betrayed the nonchalant heir he tried to emit. She could tell he was disappointed. He swallowed hard as his worst nightmare was coming true. He didn't want to leave her without something so she'd always remember him, and never forget the dances they'd shared. He remembered the necklace around his neck and smiled, "Here," he said taking it off, "On my first trip here, and on the day I learned to Tango," at that she smiled, "My mother bought me this. It was huge then, but I grew into it. I want you to have it." He was quiet from then on out; he didn't need to tell her why, for his eyes told no lies.
She gently turned her back to him; he answered her silent request by clasping the hemp necklace around her neck. If she were back in the states and this had happened (which would… as soon as hell froze over) she would have ruined the entire experience and thoughtfulness of the gift by telling him she didn't believe in religion; but here, in Argentina sitting at the bar in El Lagarto, the cross that was now around her neck didn't bother her. She turned back to him and thanked him, with something both had wanted since their first dance; she softly kissed his lips, for only a second, and then pulled back.
He sat, a little shocked at what she had done, but then nodded to her as she waved her goodbye. As the door closed behind her, he felt a pang in his heart and an urge to run after her and kiss her senseless; instead he waved to the bartender for two vodka's in honor of his mysterious dance partner that just walked out of his life…forever…
Strangers in the night
Two lonely people
We were strangers in the night
Up to the moment when we said our first hello
Little did we know
Love was just a glance away
A warm embracing dance away…
Should I continue? If I do it'll be based on your comments... and whether or not you liked this installment...
Tied
