Booth pulled into the Jeffersonian parking garage at ten past ten, and had barely cut the engine before he was out the door. He was running late, but he knew from experience that Bones wouldn't be ready, so he wasn't really too worried. You could set your watch by her on most stuff, but once she got wrapped up in work, time just seemed to lose all meaning.
Besides, he had a good reason for being late – even if she was mad, she wouldn't stay that way long. He smiled a little at the thought, remembering their conversation earlier.
It's time I rid you of this notion that you can predict everything I'm going to do before I do it…
He'd seen the challenge in her eyes when she'd said it – and a little hurt, too, which was when he'd gotten the idea to make it up to her by making dinner tonight. He vowed to be nicer on other counts, too - maybe play dumb with the two truths thing, or fake surprise when she took the file to her left instead of the one on her right the next time she was working at her desk and he came in – as she was bound to do, after his little spiel earlier in the day.
That wasn't to say that she was completely predictable, at all. Hell, she'd definitely surprised him more than once in the past week. When she'd climbed into his bed and cried on his shoulder, for example, he'd been surprised. And when, later that same night, she'd leaned up and kissed him, her blue eyes wide open and terrified…. Well, you could have knocked him over with a feather then. The way she loved to cuddle, how easily she curled into him in the night, that sigh she made when he breathed in her ear, the gasp when he nipped her neck just a little too hard…
He picked up the pace, thinking of the evening he had planned. He might be able to read Bones like a book, but he figured there were still a couple of chapters he hadn't gotten to yet. And he was planning on enjoying every single page.
Over the years, Booth had started playing this game, where Bones was concerned. Before he went to see her, he'd kind of preview the scene in his head – what he'd say when he got there, the way she'd laugh or roll her eyes or say I don't know what that means, looking at him with luminous blue eyes, clueless about what she was doing to him. At this point, he figured he was right about 85% of the time – which was pretty good, all things considered. He liked knowing Bones. He'd worked damned hard to do it, and took pride in the fact that there wasn't another man on the planet who knew her better.
She would never see it that way though, he knew, so he renewed his vow to try harder and seem surprised by whatever she had up her sleeve tonight. Still, he couldn't help falling back into his old routine, picturing the scene that was about to play out. He figured he would cruise into her office, where she would be at her desk, head bowed over a file or some bonesy thing or other. She probably wouldn't even know he was there, at first… He smiled at the thought, feeling the anticipation build.
Oh yeah.
He thought again of what he had waiting for her – dinner, candlelight, the whole nine yards, all set up at her apartment. He was looking forward to spending a night just the two of them, with no reason to get up tomorrow until he went to pick up Parker at noon. And more than just about anything, he was looking forward to the very predictable smile he would get from his gorgeous partner, when she looked up from her desk.
The lab was dark when he got inside, just the security lights and the ones in Bones's office to guide his way. He frowned when he walked past the place where Vincent had died, and grimly reminded himself that whatever else might be going on between them, Bones was still mourning a colleague. Great sex did a lot to take your mind off that kind of pain, but it wasn't a cure-all. He'd need to go easy with her, make sure to get her to talk a little over the weekend. And, most of all, get her the hell out of the lab.
Booth couldn't quite contain a cocky smile when he walked through Bones's office door and she sat behind her desk, just like he'd pictured, not even looking up when he shut the door behind him.
"You're late," she said, before he'd gotten out a word.
And that was where any similarity to the scene he'd imagined and the scene he walked in on, ended.
"Yeah – sorry, Bones. I figured you'd be all tied up with wor – "
She looked up from her paperwork. She was wearing glasses he'd never seen before, her hair up in a tight bun the way she wore it sometimes when they were working. Once he made it past those details, however, Booth suddenly found the physical act of walking just a little beyond him.
Bones was wearing her usual lab coat, the deep blue one that brought out her eyes.
And that, as far as he could tell, was all she was wearing, besides a lacy black bra that peeked out at the top, and a pair of spiky red three-inch heels.
"Lock the door, please," she said. A cocky little smirk of her own was on her lips, now.
Booth did as he was told, then stood there for a good ten seconds before Bones looked at him, one perfect eyebrow arched.
"Aren't you going to come say hello?"
She stood. The lab coat was buttoned closed, her breasts practically spilling out of the top, forty acres of creamy, gorgeous leg peeking out the bottom. When Booth was about halfway to her, she sat on the edge of her desk and crossed her legs demurely, leaning back just a little. Booth had a perfect view of a lacy thong and the promised land from where he was standing, and Bones damned well knew it.
"We should – uh…" He knew there was a reason they shouldn't do this right now, but for the life of him he couldn't think what it was.
"We should what?" she asked, innocent as a kitten. He imagined Angela had to be to blame for at least part of this. God, he loved that woman.
He finally reached Bones, his jeans getting tighter by the minute, his only thought at this point that if he didn't touch her – soon – he would definitely explode.
"Did you expect this?" she asked. Still trying for coy, but he caught a little edge of vulnerability to her tone. He forced himself to look up from the lacy edged cleavage peaking out at him from the lab coat, and met her eye.
"Uh – no, Bones." He licked his lips. Laughed a choked laugh, moving closer to touch her… Something. Everything. Jesus, looking at her now, he didn't even know where to start.
He was moving in for a kiss when she moved back with a teasing smile.
"Not yet," she said. Her eyes were darker than usual, which was how he knew she was almost as turned on as he was in all this.
"Sit," she said.
Booth didn't even think about arguing, which just went to show how far gone he was.
He sat.
"Did you know that the word fuck is actually an acronym," she said. Her voice was low, and when she said the word she lingered over "fuck."
He blinked. "Huh?"
"From Victorian times," she explained. Voice low. Her hand moved to the top button of her lab coat. "Would you like me to take this off?"
He swallowed so hard he thought his ears might pop. "God, yeah."
She undid the top button. "It meant Fornicate Under Command of the King." And then, the second button.
"Okay," he said, half under his breath. "That's nice, Bones."
She was sitting on the desk facing him, legs still crossed. She looked him dead in the eye, and took off the glasses. He thought he might pop a seam in his jeans any second. Then, she reached around – graceful, like she'd done it a thousand times before – and pulled the barrette out of her hair, shaking loose a cascade of wavy auburn hair.
"There are two hundred and six bones in the human body," she said.
He nodded, not really hearing her. "Mm hmm."
Booth licked his lips again. Brennan followed the movement, and smiled. Her eyes looked like she'd been mainlining starlight.
Her hands returned to the buttons on her lab coat. With the top two undone, he could see all of the lacy bra beneath, her breasts full and just begging for his touch. Booth's hand drifted to the front of his jeans. If somebody didn't touch somebody soon, he was gonna lose his mind. Bones followed the movement of his hand with her eyes, and they darkened another shade, but she didn't say anything.
Instead, she released the last button, and slid the lab coat off her shoulders. She sat in front of him in a black lace bra and matching panties, the outfit capped with those three-inch heels and a look on her face that was about as sexy as anything he'd ever seen before.
She slid slowly off the desk, and wound up standing in between his legs, Booth now eye level with her breasts. He reached out, settling his hands at her waist; he couldn't help but smile at her soft inhale at the contact. Before he could make a move, though, she reached down, took both his hands in her own, and set them back in his lap – as she did so, making sure to rub her knuckles against his cock until he almost came up out of his seat.
"Jesus, Bones," he groaned.
She smiled. "No touching," she said primly.
And then, she knelt – that's right, knelt, between his legs, looking up at him with her big blue eyes behind a curtain of auburn hair, and very purposefully licked her lips. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Booth thought again of Angela giving Bones a lesson in all this – the image of the two of them practicing these moves together was almost enough to make him come before Bones had so much as laid a hand on him.
She reached up, ran her hand over the by-now pretty damned unmistakable bulge in his jeans, and undid his belt buckle.
"Bones, we should probably…"
… But then she was very slowly, very carefully, unzipping his jeans. She gestured for him to sit up, and pulled both pants and underwear down to his ankles. Then, she lay a soft kiss on his naked inner thigh. His eyes sank shut.
She kissed her way up his thigh, her teeth scraping against the skin with just enough pressure to drive him slowly insane. And then, she stopped.
"I'm sorry, were you saying something?" she asked, all innocence again. He opened his eyes and looked at her.
"Uh – no, Bones." Like he could remember, if his life depended on it, why they needed to get back to the apartment. "Just… y'know…"
"What?" she asked. Still kneeling. Breasts pressed against his leg. Head tilted, eyes wide. She'd still had no direct contact with his cock, and Booth hadn't ached like this since he was in high school.
"Nothing – just…" He groaned again. "God, Bones, you're killing me here."
She looked like she'd just won the lottery at his words. Her hand moved a little higher on his right thigh, while she continued kissing and licking her way up his left.
Her hand got there first – her knuckles gently running along the length of his shaft so that he swore softly, trying to remember to breathe. Once her mouth reached him, though, he found trying to maintain any kind of coherent thought impossible. She nuzzled him for a second, her breath warm on his sac, her tongue moving in long, sure strokes, before she licked her way up to the head of his cock.
"The term blow job comes from Victorian times," she said. "When they used the word blow as a euphemism for ejaculation."
Okay, so the sex talk could use a little work. But he sure as hell wasn't going to complain – especially when her tongue found that sweet spot on the underside of his shaft, pressing in just before she took him in his mouth, taking him so deep that he sank back in his seat, his jaw going slack at both the feel and the sight.
His eyes finally sank shut as she set a rhythm that would have buckled his knees, had he been standing. He lay a hand on her head gently, lacing his fingers in her hair, and she did something with her hand at the base of his shaft while she kept moving, and whatever the hell it was she was doing, he was either gonna black out or come like a rocket in about two seconds.
"Bones," he whispered, and it came out sounding a little desperate. He tried to pull her up, give her a signal as he felt his sac tighten. "I'm gonna…"
She looked up at him without breaking her rhythm, just a hint of a smile on her lips when she took him deep one more time, telling him without a word exactly what she wanted from him.
He let go.
Afterward, sitting there with his head back and his body totally boneless, his eyes shut and his breath coming hard, Bones buttoned her lab coat back up without putting anything else on. Booth pulled his pants up, since he felt a little silly sitting there with his jeans around his ankles and his softening, still slick cock just kind of out there for the world to see. Then, he pulled Bones onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her.
"So…" she said.
He looked at her blankly. "So… Holy shit, Bones." He shook his head. "That was amazing. Seriously. I mean…" Another shake of the head, still feeling a little muddled.
"Well, yes, I know that – I'm well-versed in male anatomy, Booth, and Angela gave me some ideas that I believe I put to excellent use here. But that's not what I was referring to."
He scratched his chin, trying to get his brain back in gear. "Okay… Uh – what are you referring to, then?"
"Two truths and a lie," she said, like he was the biggest idiot this side of the Mason Dixon line. "I told you three things – but only two of them were true."
He racked his brain, but for the life of him he couldn't remember anything beyond Bones in a lab coat, glasses, and three inch red high heels. He did, however, know Bones. Which meant… She was looking at him, her hair a little messy the way he loved it, anticipation clear in her eyes. Waiting.
"The third one," he said.
Her eyes widened, and he could tell she was trying like hell not to smile. "Are you certain that's the one you'd like to choose?"
He nodded.
The grin on her face was big enough to make his heart melt right along with the rest of him.
"It was the first one," she said, her voice a little higher, the words coming faster now. "I tricked you – because you said before that I always choose the second one, but then you said that I would most likely choose the third one if I didn't choose the second." The grin got just a little wider if it was even possible, her eyebrows climbing higher.
"So you chose the first one," he said, doing his damnedest not to laugh. "That was tricky, Bones. Nice one."
"Thank you. While it's true that there are urban legends regarding the word fuck originating as an acronym after the plague, it actually has Germanic origins. I honestly thought you would catch on, but I suppose given the circumstances…"
He did laugh at that. "The circumstances, Bones? You stripped to nothing in front of me and gave me the best blowjob of my life. I'm not trying to say you haven't come a long way with this whole Two Truths and a Lie thing, but I was a little distracted."
"That was part of the plan," she confided in him, her eyes still shining. "I learned that from you. Sometimes, the most effective way to manipulate the results in your favor is to use some fire and mirrors."
"Smoke and mirrors, Bones," still laughing a little.
He kissed her cheek, gently pushing her off his lap. And it was then – right after the fire comment, but before Bones had a chance to put much of anything in the way of a decent outfit back on – that he remembered why they needed to get back to the apartment.
Shit.
TBC