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II. The Fate in the Beginning

Days went by as work and the ordinary joys of family life sucked them in, but a seed had been planted. Brennan couldn't stop thinking about her idea and, after realizing that she was fantasizing about fantasies and that this was a very unproductive thing, she asked her father to babysit Christine the next afternoon.

She was a quick thinker, had always been, but, this time, she took her time pondering possibilities, almost luxuriating in it. There were so many first times that could have happened between them, so many moments where something had crackled in the air. The tension had been there right from the start, and the scientist in her found it appropriate to begin... at the beginning.

Friday after Christine's birthday party, Booth got a text from his partner and since he would always follow her call, 4 pm that afternoon found him in front of the American University. The institution had always intimidated him somehow, but Brennan was already waiting on the stairs outside. Something between the pattern of her skirt and the coral red of her shirt rang a memory, but he couldn't quite put his fingers on it.

Parking the SUV, he flipped the keys into the air, catching them swiftly while approaching her with a smile.

"Heya. Why are we here? Something case-related?"

"Heya right back. No, we're still stuck. Hodgins is running his tests."

She offered him his cheek, and he brushed his lips over her smooth skin.

"Alright. Uh?"

The question was still in his eyes, and she linked arms with her partner while nudging him towards the entrance.

"We're here to attend a lecture."

He stopped instantly.

"A lecture?" he croaked, but she just nodded.

"On defleshing techniques."

"Uh... why don't we just go home and you tell me what I have to know?"

Tilting her head, she looked at him with calm eyes, but he could swear that he could see the hint of a blush covering her neck. Interesting.

"You don't have to listen, but we have to be here."

Interesting.

One gentle tug later, his feet decided to follow her, and, finally, upon entering the lecture hall, something clicked. His head flung around, taking in her clothes anew, taking in their surroundings.

"This is where we first met," he whispered, and she ushered him towards two seats in the empty last row.

"That's correct."

"And you're wearing what you were wearing that day."

A smile played around her lips.

"You're very attentive."

A squint that actually looked like a squint appeared on the podium, beginning his lecture in an annoyingly nasal voice. Next to him, a decomposing body was bubbling in some kind of solution.

"That guy looks dull."

"He was one of my PhD students. But I have to agree, he is quite dull."

With a frown, he tried to listen to the boring scientist, tried to make sense of it, and then he remembered their conversation from last week, and, suddenly, he knew why they were here. His mouth went dry. Lowering his hand to her knee, oh so slowly, he turned around, his lips grazing her auricle, as he whispered, "Do you believe in fate?"

She shuddered, as she met his eyes, and he could see the spark in her bright blue orbs, a spark that would always, always ignite his own, had done so even back then. He knew her answer before she said it.

"Absolutely not. It's ludicrous."

"Well, what do you believe in, Ms. Brennan?" he murmured and she picked up the challenge it was.

"It's Doctor Brennan. I believe in science and evolution."

The thumb on her knee started to move, caressing the hem of her skirt. The material was exquisite and stiff under his fingertip.

"Well, I do believe in fate."

"Why?"

Already her voice had gotten that breathless quality he loved so much.

"Why? I'll tell you why. Because it led me right here."

She shook her head, her curls swaying gently.

"Dr. Saroyan gave you my name. Sent you here."

The thumb stilled.

"You have to look at the bigger picture to understand fate."

"I look at details."

"Fate saved me a hundred times over. What has science ever done for you?"

"The very same."

"So you're a believer."

It wasn't really a question, and his cocky smile caused her to straighten her back.

"I believe in something reasonable."

"Fate is reasonable."

"Not tangible."

"Some decades ago, the concept of DNA wasn't tangible."

"Point taken. Then let's wait a few more decades until the existence of fate has been proven and we can repeat this conversation. In the light of new evidence, I might adjust my opinion."

"You are infuriating."

"As are you."

In one bold move, his hand slipped under her skirt, resting on her smooth thigh right above the lace-trimmed hem of her stocking. Her tiny gasp sent shivers down his spine, but that was nothing compared to the shock of electricity that rushed through his whole body as, in an answer to his touch, her fingers curled around his thigh.

"Bones," he hissed, and she chuckled silently.

"So you can dish out, but you cannot take it?"

Turning around, he captured her neck with one strong hand, holding her close to his face while he let his nose run over her jawline, inhaling deeply. His voice was dark and raspy, as he answered.

"Oh, believe me, I can take it."

Instead of backing away, she tilted her head, exposing her neck to him. Underneath her pale skin, he could see the pounding of her pulse. For a moment, he just stared at her, taking in the woman she had been and the woman she was now; cherishing the changes, cherishing the things that hadn't changed at all.

On the podium, the rotten corpse had transformed into a slime-covered skeleton, and an unpleasant odor was filling the air.

"You were lecturing about the same thing back then, right?"

"Almost. I presented different techniques, and I believe that mine were a lot more efficient and less disgusting."

He chuckled.

"Of course they were."

Another moment of silence. The stink soaring out of the glass tank on the podium got nearly unbearable, and Booth noticed that several students were desperately covering their noses and mouths.

"You were hot," he finally whispered.

"I know."

"And so very modest."

"I don't believe in false modesty. I have to admit that you piqued my interest right from the very first moment. You were very handsome."

"There was attraction."

"It was."

"I wanted to get to know you. To figure you out. And I wanted to have my way with you. Get under your composed attire. You were... something."

"I still remember the warmth of your hand as you shook mine. You have fairly big hands. I wanted to know what they are capable of."

"Come on. Let's get away from this smell."

Grabbing her hand, he dragged her outside, and she followed willingly. Since he had no idea where to go, she took the lead as soon as they reached the hallway, guiding him to a packed little store room and shoving him inside.

The windowless room smelled like old cardboard and cleanser, and in the darkness, she turned to him.

"I'm Dr. Temperance Brennan of the Jeffersonian Institution."

"Special Agent Seeley Booth, FBI. I... I'm gonna fall in love with you."

"Yes. But not now, not today."

"No, today I just wanna figure you out. Get under your skin."

Her palms landed flat on his chest, neither pushing nor pulling him.

"Figure me out, then."

Grabbing one thigh, he lifted her leg, wrapping it around his hip, and she gasped both at the shifted center of gravity and at the sudden intimate contact. His warm palm cupped the back of her thigh, rough skin running over smooth skin, and he followed the curve of her leg until he reached the lace of her panties, until he slid underneath the flimsy material to cup the roundness of her ass.

She gasped in surprise and her pelvis tilted forward, pressing her mound deeper into his midsection. Clutching his shoulders, she steadied herself, and, after regaining some composure, she rocked deliberately into him, causing him to groan.

"I already know that you will drive me crazy," he panted.

Her face fell forward, lips parting over his throat.

"That was never my intention. But I find that I like it," she said before pressing open-mouthed kisses onto his sensitive skin.

The hand cupping her moved even further, gentle pressure digging into her flesh, and then he spread his fingers, and just the tips of them brushed her silky entrance from behind. Wetness was gathering between her legs, and, lifting her thigh just a few inches higher, she longed for his touch, his real touch, not this feather-light tease.

"That's what you wanted to do to me back then?"

Her voice was barely a whisper in the breathless room, and he lowered his head onto her shoulder.

"Dunno. I wanted to do something."

Grinding against him, she increased the friction between them, could feel him hardening in response.

"The only question was... would you let me or slap me?"

The fingers between her legs resumed their light caress, and her belly tightened in anticipation.

"Maybe both... At first, I was confused by my reaction to you. But after... after I decided to help you, I wanted to help you."

"And you couldn't work with me and sleep with me..."

"You were... are too intense. I have to admit that your commitment scared me."

"That's why you left in that cab?"

"Hm-hmm."

"But you were curious."

"Curious...?"

"How it could be."

And, without warning, two of his fingers stroked into her damp heat, deep and self-assured. A muffled moan escaped her lips, and he could feel her silken walls fluttering around him in welcome. A rush of wetness dampened her panties, and he could smell her. Inhaling a deep breath, Booth registered her scent, the one he knew now, the one he didn't know back then.

"I can smell you," he whispered, and she groaned almost feline-like.

"It heightens your arousal, doesn't it?"

Her hands tugged at his tie, nimble fingers undoing the first few buttons of his shirt, before her teeth sank into the sensitive flesh of his shoulder. He cursed sharply, as she marked him, the fingers inside of her thrusting without rhythm for a few seconds. Soothing the bite with her tongue, she licked his shoulder, enjoying the warmth of his flesh, reveling in his taste.

"You heighten my arousal."

"How much do you want me?" she taunted, and his slick fingers slipped out of her, sliding over her hypersensitive bundle of nerves. Her whole body jerked in his arms. Unseen by her, his mouth curved up in a smile.

"How much do you want me?" he threw her words back at her.

"Cocky bastard."

He laughed out roughly, and then his mouth was on hers for the first time that afternoon. Without further delay, lips parted, tongues sweeping over each other. It was a battle that nobody could win, that nobody really wanted to win, and, bringing both hands to her face, he held her close to him in a sudden display of tenderness.

Her almost numb leg unwrapped itself from his hip, her foot hitting the ground, the damp fabric of her panties clinging between her thighs.

Using her strength and the moment of surprise, she flipped them around until his back hit the wall with a soft thud, her fingers flying to his pants and unzipping them within the blink of an eye. He groaned into her mouth, and then he was in her hands, hot and hard, and she was caressing him as if it was the first time. Alternating between squeezing and pumping, she had him on the brink of something within a few heartbeats, and he moaned almost helplessly.

"Bones..."

"I'd like to repeat my question. How much do you want me?"

"Badly. Oh, badly."

"What exactly do you want?"

"You. Inside."

His voice was rough, saturated with need, but she didn't want to give in. Not yet. She wanted to know why she reacted to him so strongly, wanted to study his reaction to her.

"Can you feel my hands around you? Can you imagine how it will feel when you're deep inside of me?"

"Yes," he panted," oh yes. But... I don't want to imagine."

His last words surprised her with sudden steadiness, and then she was spun around in the darkness, and, suddenly, it was her back that was pressed against the hard surface of the door. One flying hand rubbed over her body, from her cleavage over her aching breasts and down to her belly... and even further down. Then one hand was back between her legs, pushing her panties aside, and the other one gripped his own erection, guiding it to her warm flesh. She moaned, as the plump head of him touched her entrance, her head hitting the door.

"Allow me."

"Yes, take me, do it," she whimpered, opening her thighs as wide as possible.

Bending his knees, just a little, he aligned himself to her, and, with a deep breath, he pushed into her. As if for the first time...

Thickness, delicious thickness stretching her, rubbing her from the inside in the most pleasant way.

Heat, molten heat surrounding him, gripping him like a tailor-made glove.

Her arms hooked around his neck, and, supporting her weight with his palms, he lifted her up, burying himself as deep as ever possible in her pliant body.

"Ohhh..."

It was a mutual sigh, a mutual gasp.

"I wish I could see you," he finally murmured against her skin. "The color of your eyes. The flush of your skin."

Part of her wanted to remind him that he couldn't have known that back then, but, somehow, she knew that this was just such a Booth thing to say and that he would have wished it even if it had really been their first time. Shifting her head, she pressed her lips to his neck.

"Feel me instead," she whispered, caressing him with a squeeze of her inner muscles.

He shuddered all around her and sighed.

"Yes."

His hands held her buttocks, as he withdrew from her almost all the way before pushing back... again and again. She met his strokes with burning fire that started low in her belly but was soon consuming every part of her.

"Fate, Baby," he grunted, as he thrust into her, but she shook her head even as pleasure clouded her brain.

"No, chemistry."

"I knew that we would be so good together."

"Pheromones. Attraction. Biological urges," she counted, but he silenced her with a hard kiss, a kiss that made her dizzy from the inside out, left her snapping for air as he released her.

In a gesture born out of utmost tenderness, he pressed his rough cheek against her soft one, and something in her body that was so much more than simple desire reacted to him.

"Tell me you don't feel it, then," he murmured gently, and she groaned almost desperately, failing at her own fantasy.

"I... Booth... I cannot pretend that I'm not in love with you. Not anymore."

His lips found hers anew, slower this time.

"And that is fate, Bones."

"No, it's just because it isn't really our first time together..."

"This was bound to happen sooner or later. I believe, strongly believe that no way in hell we just could have had a quickie in a store room. Not even back then."

Rotating his hips, he thrust into her from a different angle, using his intimate knowledge of her to render her speechless.

"Not fair," she mumbled weekly, her sweaty brow pressing into his wrinkled dress shirt.

"Come for me," he encouraged her, nudging himself even deeper between her thighs. "I'm the hot FBI guy that annoys you so much, that won't stop talking and challenging you."

"Booth! Booth..."

"You're not a cold scientist, show me your fire."

Letting go of a muffled cry, she came apart in his arms, shaking without rhythm as a mighty wave of white light flooded her, and, on the wings of her release, she could hear his name for her, could feel him quaking with her.

And then it went dark.

-BONES-

Fifteen minutes later, back in the SUV, his legs were still trembling somehow, little aftershocks rippling through his body every now and then. Next to him in the passenger seat, his partner had curled up like a sated kitten, her face angelic, her eyes closed. She smelled like sex and him, and his eyes flickered to her every few seconds.

She still wore the clothes from so many years ago, but she looked like his Bones, the woman he went to bed with every night.

His mouth opened and closed again.

"That was... interesting."

She giggled very uncharacteristically, and her eyes snapped open, bright blue dazzling him.

"Interesting?"

"Do you really think we should have had sex the first time we met?"

"Should? No. Could? Hmm..."

He grinned.

"Bones, Bones."

"We should do this again sometime."

He wiggled his head, more open to her suggestion than ever before.

"Yeah, but next time it'll be my fantasy."

She looked at him with sudden interest.

"You already have something in mind?"

"Maybe."

"You're such a tease."

"And you love me for it."

She sank back in her seat.

"Yes, I do. Oh, Booth, stop."

"Stop? What? Why?"

"The grocery store. We need diapers and juice."

His mouth fell open.

"Diapers and juice? Now?"

She shrugged.

"It's convenient since we're already here. But, Booth, you have to go and get it."

"Me? I'm still a little bit-"

"I had to remove my underwear, it was soaked."

He swallowed hard beside her.

"You're naked underneath your skirt?"

"Hmm, that's correct."

Rubbing his face with one palm, he turned right onto the parking lot.

"You're gonna kill me one day."

Stopping the car, he turned towards her, stealing another kiss, one that tasted like satisfaction and more.

"Don't wanna kill you," she murmured drowsily, her eyes dropping shut again. "Need you."

He watched her for one breathless moment, blinking once, twice, adding the fantasy to the reality.

Then he went to get some diapers. And juice.

Because their life wasn't a fantasy anymore.

It was better.

To be continued.

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