AN: All right, then, so this is the follow up mentioned at the beginning of the first chapter. I have to say, I did polish it a bit, but it is still not one of finest hours… So, if you know how to fix this, let me know. If your idea is really good, I may just redo this…
Anyway, thank you all for the comments. It's lovely when the readers take the time to leave some feed back.
Jane
Temperance had been watching Booth's line becoming thinner by the day, hoping he'd come to realize that it was, in their case, merely decorative. Being a rational empiricist did not mean she wouldn't be nervous when the forbidden fruit came calling in the middle of the night. So, she had taken her time coming down to the entrance to the building. Of all the idiotic things Booth could have done to erase the line... Her heart was pounding! A serenade! Wait till Angela hears about this!
She ran her hand through Booth's wet face. It was warm despite the cold water dripping from his hair. Unable to stop herself, she slid her hand down his face to the contours of his torso, visible through the soaking wet fabric. She was mesmerized, lost in the moment and had absolutely forgotten she was standing in the lobby of her building in her pyjamas and barefoot. Nothing apart from their bodies was registering in her mind. Her hand toyed around with the fabric clinging to his skin, and her index finger stopped on his nipple. She became engrossed with the shape of it and how it responded to her touch. Booth gasped, sighed and held her hand against his heart in an attempt to give himself time to deal with his body's violent reaction.
"You're soaking…" she stated, but seemed unable to make the connection between that fact and what should come next.
"Yeah…" Booth's voice was rasp. He cleared his throat. "Your third floor neighbour… ah… "
"Maybe you should get out of these wet clothes…" and as the thought materialized in her head, her hands were already busy unbuttoning his shirt. Line be damned. She slid it half way off, the material clinging to his skin, making the task slower. She wondered briefly why she was wearing pyjamas in such a warm night. Her hands reached for his belt buckle and were already trying to open it when someone walked into the lobby. A middle aged woman in a nurse's uniform walked in, gave them a malevolent look and then, recognizing her neighbour
"Well, Dr Brennan! I wouldn't have imagined you were that type!"
Temperance blushed violently. Neither did she. It was like being back in 6th grade. She took Booth by the hand and pulled him up the steps to her apartment. Booth was having trouble processing the scene in his mind. There was just too much alcohol and hormones rushing through his blood. And yet, he still liked what he saw and, admittedly, it turned him on that much more. If that was possible, he thought to himself. It was a shock to system, this Temperance in front of him not so brazenly sexual. He could do nothing but follow her up the steps, his hand in hers.
She closed the door and leaned against it with a sigh of relief
"I feel like I'm sneaking around…" she smiled, her voice with a hint of desire in it."Now, about those wet clothes…" And she moved towards him, stood on her tip toes and kissed him. Her tongue invaded his mouth, danced around his until she felt compelled to break the kiss.
"Booth, you need to brush your teeth. I'm getting drunk just on your breath!" and she pushed him towards the bathroom, the effect of her kiss clearly visible on him.
"Bones… you're cruel!" but he moved to do as he was told. She looked around frantically. She breathed in and out trying to steady her nerves. She had been waiting for so long, now the moment had arrived she was beginning to doubt, not only the sanity of it all, but her self, afraid she might not correspond to his expectations. Things had built up between them so much… how could anyone live up to that kind of hype?"
He came back to the living room his wet clothes still on. She walked towards him.
"Let me taste you now…" and she kissed as if she was tasting the rarest of foods, delighting in that texture of his mouth that she remembered from the kiss under the mistletoe. She kissed without rush, enjoying his every response, his every move. His hands moved to her hips and brought her to sit on his legs. She felt the need to delay things. It was all going so fast. Mind reeling fast. She wanted it to happen. Desperately. Just not this fast. Not this drunk. She did not need him to regret things in the morning.
"I want to do something… Booth…" He looked at her, confused. "… it's too fast… just…" he understood that she needed time.
"Do you want me to go?"
"NO! I mean… no, please. Minutes… I just need minutes… not… " unable to explain further, she kissed him again and again.
"Well, if you keep on doing that, there aren't going to be any minutes, Bones!"
"Take off your clothes, I just thought of something!" And she ran into the bathroom, prepared a bowl of warm water and took a wash cloth. She'd been wanting to that for a long time and now he was sitting in her couch… When she walked back into the living room, Booth was in his underwear, his clothes on the floor. She took in the sight… man, oh man! She put the bowl on the floor and dipped the cloth in the warm water, letting it warm up. Then, she carefully squeezed out excess water and dived into the task of washing him, warming him up with the cloth. She took her sweet time. She was having way too much fun now. She concentrated on his arms, first the right, then the left, then on his torso, his face. Booth was breeding in and out in an effort to control his body that seemed to have reverted back to adolescence. She needed time and, by God, he'd give her that. He knew how to wait. And Bones could not be rushed.
"Booth, I can't do your back here. You need to lay down…" He understood that she wanted him in her bedroom and obliged. She trailed behind just for the pure aesthetic pleasure of seeing his muscles move.
He laid down on her bed, face down and she went back to the task she had initiated in the living room. She was surprised when she heard his breathing steadying to a slow compass. He was asleep. She was torn between tenderness, outrage and frustration. What was she supposed to do with herself now? That was not the outcome she had expected to her ministrations.
"Compartmentalize, Brennan" she told herself. She conjured up the image of a very wet Booth singing, his eyes hopefully watching her balcony and her heart mellowed. She laid down next to him, covered them with a blanket and spent the next four hours trying to sleep.
Booth woke up alone in her bed with a mean, mean headache. It served him right! As his head tried to put the pieces of the puzzle that was the previous night together, he remembered in horror that he had fallen asleep. What was worse, fallen asleep when he was pretty sure that Temperance was game and more than ready. What a blunder! He got ready to rummage the apartment for some aspirin but when he opened the medicine cabinet in the bathroom there was a note stuck to the mirror: Look in the kitchen for the aspirin. There is coffee and toast. You have to eat! He wasn't sure he ever wanted to face her again. Not only had he fallen asleep but she had prepared breakfast and aspirin. After a shower, coffee and painkillers he felt slightly more human. By 1 pm he had decided to call a war summit. His friends had gotten him into this mess, they might as well help him out of it. So he called Miguel first.
"Hello!" Came a familiar cheery voice. What a freak! After a night drinking Jack into a best seller, Miguel was chirpy and… wholesome. It sucked big time! He explained he needed to see them all again during the afternoon, that he had a slight problem and left it at that. He also left it to Miguel to call the other two. He then called in sick and went home. He was still too embarrassed to call Temperance.
True to his word, Miguel had rounded up Ted and Karl- both satisfactorily hung over- and headed to Booth's who explained in as little detail as he could get away with what had happened the previous night.
"Man! You actually fell asleep?!"
"I've said that already! No need to keep going on and on about it!" Booth was feeling the lowest of men. "I called you not to humiliate me further but to come up with a plan! I need to make this right!"
"Must be embarrassing, though…" Ted was still slow.
"No, this is the kind of story I wanna tell my grandkids, Ted, I'm that proud of it!" Booth was incensed. It took Ted a full minute to process the sentence as sarcastic. But he tried to redeem himself.
"Well,
do it over. Last night, I mean. 'cept for the drinking, I mean. Just
go over and sing again"
"Serenade, not sing" Miguel
corrected automatically but his pensive look alarmed Booth.
"You're not serious! Miguel! I can't do it again!" The high pitch in his voice mirroring the panic he felt.
"Well, I think you must, my friend! Ted is, for once in his life, right"
"I am?"
"Yeah! Think about it: you need to give her a chance to even the score. If that means rejecting your serenade, than so be it!"
"Easy for you to say it", Booth had expected better from the lot of them.
"If
she does, she will feel vindicated. And then she'll forgive
you!"
"How do you know?" As a plan, it sucked,
Booth thought.
"I just do, alright! Trust me! I got you to kiss her, didn't I?"
"Point taken!"
It was like history repeating it self, Booth thought. There he was again, under Temperance's balcony, getting ready for a serenade. Only this time he was sober. And he wasn't sure if that was an improvement as he might just live to remember this one.
The four friends lined up in a semi circle. "You can't go wrong with The King" seemed to be Karl's mantra. Miguel gave the signal and Booth hit the first notes of Love me Tender:
Love me tender,
love me
sweet,
never let me go.
And then the other three voices followed. This time there was to be no falsetto from Miguel.
You
have made my life complete,
and I love you so.
The feeling of Dejá vu was overwhelming in Booth's heart. The balcony was again open and dark. And empty. He decided that Miguel was right. She should have the chance to even the score. So he trooped on, with the other three humming the stanza in the background
Love me
tender,
love me true,
all my dreams fulfilled.
For my
darlin' I love you,
and I always will.
Again cars slowing down for the spectacle. Check! Again heads out of windows. Except for Bones. Check!
Love me
tender,
love me long,
"Shut up or this time I'll call the cops!" Same disembodied voice- check! The things you do for love! Keep your eye on the ball, Booth, he kept lecturing himself. You brought this upon yourself!
take me
to your heart.
For it's there that I belong,
and we'll never
part.
Oh, God, just this once, please, don't let her be so stubborn! Ah, you're you kidding?
"I thought I should come down and take you of your misery!" Booth had been concentrating on the balcony. He was shocked to see her standing again at the entrance of the building, only this time she was wearing a minute black negligee that left little to the imagination. Oh sweet Jesus! His heart skipped a few beats. He left the others to wrap up the song narrowly avoiding a bucketful of water that came crashing down. Check that as well!
Love me tender,
love me dear,
tell me you are mine.
I'll
be yours through all the years,
till the end of time.
He walked towards her, scooped her up from the floor and carried her up the steps to her second floor. He moved directly to her bedroom and deposited her on the bed where he got busy redeeming himself for the previous night.
In the street, Karl, Miguel and Ted were finishing up:
till
the end of time.
And that's all folks! Now, please comment!
Page 4 of 4