AN: And here's part 2. Thanks to everyone for the reviews and suggestions. I think the story needs a third part, but I'm not quite sure where the story goes yet. Let me know what you think. The idea for this chapter was inspired by a reviewer's suggestions.
Booth and Brennan sat across from each other at the diner sharing a piece of pie.
"I can't believe we caught two cases in a row where the perps were willing to shoot," Booth commented. "At least nobody got hurt this time."
When she didn't immediately agree, he scrutinized her face.
"Bones?"
Her silence was answer enough.
"You should have said something," he said disapprovingly.
"No, it's not that," she objected hastily. "It's just that my back and neck have been bothering me a lot the past few days. I think I spent too much time bent over the exam table."
'That's not exactly a lie, is it?' she thought, suppressing a grimace at the pain radiating from her shoulder.
"Well, then, after you redo my bandage, I'll give you a massage," he said.
"I think I'll just take a nice long bath," she replied.
"A massage will be more effective," he pointed out, using his charm smile on her.
'I can't believe that still works on me! Why couldn't he just drop it? Once he knows for sure I got hit, he'll feel guilty and go all alpha male.'
When they arrived at her apartment, he headed to the kitchen asking, "You want something to drink, Bones?"
"Water, please," she answered, as she hung her coat on the rack.
While he poured her water and grabbed himself a beer from the refrigerator, she headed to the bathroom for bandages and hydrogen peroxide.
She returned to find him sitting on her couch with his feet up on her coffee table. 'He looks comfortable,' she thought with a smile.
She put the medical supplies down on the coffee table. She swallowed a couple of Aleve with some water and then motioned for him to sit up.
He was tired, her couch was comfortable, and he really didn't feel like sitting up, so he quirked an eyebrow at her and tossed her one of his charm smiles.
"Booth…" she said in a warning tone.
"Yes, Bones?" he replied, innocently, tilting the beer to his lips.
She rolled her eyes at him. "Come on, you know that I want."
He practically choked on his swig of beer.
"That's a pretty loaded statement, Bones," he replied with a wink.
"What?" she asked with a blank look, and then a second later as comprehension dawned, "Oh, but that's not… nevermind. Just sit up and take off your shirt."
"Since you asked so nicely," he said, but he didn't move right away.
"Look, it's been a long week, I've been in pain off and on yesterday and today, I didn't sleep well last night. Let's just get on with this," she snapped.
"Whoa, take a chill pill, Bones," he said, sitting up and unbuttoning his shirt. He eased it off his right arm and then pulled off his undershirt.
Like the first time she'd bandaged his wound and every time since, she was distracted by the hard, muscular planes of his chest. She'd thought he was attractive the first time they'd met, even though she couldn't stand him then. Since then, she'd become comfortable with him. Their relationship had changed from almost outright hostility to grudging respect to friendship, and when Brennan was honest with herself, maybe something more. But now wasn't the time to explore her feelings.
Forcing her attention back to the task at hand, she removed the bandage carefully and examined the graze.
"It's healing well," she said as she dabbed on some hydrogen peroxide. She folded a bandage, placed it carefully over the wound and taped it in place. As before, she slowly traced the fine lines of the scars on his back, but this time she used both hands and the trail of fire that followed her fingers was twice as strong. A shudder shook his frame as her delicate touch neared the waistband of his pants.
He loved her and he had wanted to be with her for so long. When she touched him like this – like a lover – restraint was hard to come by. But he wasn't sure of her, so he enjoyed the moment and hoped there would be more.
To his surprise, she didn't jerk her hands away. Her hands rested where they were and for a moment he thought she might slip them around his waist and hug him from behind.
In her tiredness, it took Brennan's brain a minute to catch up to her body. For a moment, she let herself enjoy the way he felt, then she slowly retracted her hands. She grabbed the used bandage off the coffee table and headed toward the kitchen trash.
Booth sat back to watch her graceful movements as he had done many times before. But a red stain on the back of her shirt caught his attention. 'She lied to me! She did get hit!' he thought, annoyed that she'd managed to convince him otherwise. He waited until she returned from the kitchen.
"Ready for your massage?" he asked.
She opened her mouth to object, but he shook his head at her.
"Did you really think you could hide that wound from me?" he asked.
She looked at him and shrugged.
"Turn around," he ordered gently.
She complied. He looked more closely at the stain. It was in the middle of her left shoulder blade. 'Scapula,' he mentally corrected himself. There was a two-inch tear in the back of her shirt and the skin underneath was an angry red.
"The shirt is ruined," he said. "I'm just going to tear it…"
"No," she objected, beginning to unbutton it. "This is my favorite shirt. Maybe the tailor can save it."
He was doubtful, but held his tongue. She winced as she took her blouse off, but his breath hitched as he caught a glimpse of her breast as it swelled into a royal blue lace bra. 'Down boy,' he told himself firmly.
"Lie down," he said. "I'll bandage the graze and then try to work the kinks out of your neck and back."
She positioned herself on the couch, and he sat next to her. He gently dabbed hydrogen peroxide onto the shallow gash.
"How did you think you were going to treat this yourself?" he asked.
"Using a mirror," she replied.
He taped the gauze bandage into place.
"You got a pen, Bones?" he queried.
"There's several on my desk," she answered.
He stood up, went to the desk, found a pen, and returned to sit beside her. A moment later she felt the pen moving gently against her back.
"Booth, what are you doing?" she inquired.
"Your band-aid needed a smiley face," he replied.
There were so many things wrong with that statement her tired brain didn't even know where to begin. By the time she'd settled on one, his hands started gently massaging her shoulders. He quickly found the knots and one by one began working on them, working around the elastic of her bra. His hands moved slowly up her neck her hairline and the base of her occipital bone. Her muscles relaxed slowly, but her nerves were humming from his touch. Her eyes fluttered closed and she gave herself over to the sensations he was creating in her body.
For his part, Booth couldn't believe she hadn't laid him flat on his back when he'd suggested the massage or when he'd started touching her. 'She must really have been in pain,' he thought. He began to work his way down her back, fingers probing gently for the knots.
A small round scar about an inch above the bandage broke the soft smoothness of her skin.
He ran his fingers over the spot.
"Where'd you get this scar, Bones?" he asked softly.
He could feel her sigh underneath his hands.
"One of my foster fathers was having a bad day and he hit me with a board. Unfortunately there was a nail in it," she answered matter-of-factly.
He waited a moment to see if she would continue. When she didn't, he said, "Things like that should never happen to children."
"After me, they never had foster kids again," she said. "Other kids complained, but I was the proof."
He continued his massage, moving extra carefully around the bandage. Near the base of her rib cage on the right, he came across another scar.
This time she answered without him having to ask. "El Salvador."
When he reached her pants, he stopped his massage.
"Don't stop. I still feel tight in my lower back," she said.
He tried to continue, but the wide waistband of her pants made it difficult.
"Just a sec," she said, undoing the button and unzipping the zipper part way. She winced as she reached back to fold the top of her pants down.
"Okay," she said, indicating he should continue. However, watching her undress just that little bit more sent his pulse racing and he had to fight hard to keep from saying or doing something he'd regret.
When he didn't resume, she pushed herself up on one elbow and twisted slightly to look at him.
"Booth?" she asked.
Her new position exposed some of her cleavage and his throat went dry. He forced his eyes away from her breasts to her eyes. They were shining beneath her long eyelashes. Their gaze held and he felt exposed, as though she could see everything about him.
"Is something wrong?" she asked curiously, breaking the spell.
"Um… no," he replied, amazed that his vocal chords worked.
"Good," she responded, flattening herself against the couch.
He continued his massage of her lower back. She was right, there was a particularly large knot at the bottom of the small of her back. Usually she was so prickly about being touched and was quick to threaten anyone who did. It had taken a while, but she was finally comfortable with the small touches he gave her – a tap on the shoulder, his hand on the small of her back, the occasional hug. At the moment she was accepting, and maybe even welcoming, his touch.
He decided to take a risk. He kneaded from the bottom of the small of her back down to the upper part of her buttocks, stopping at the lace of her panties. He edged his hands out and began slowly massaging up her sides. When his hand brushed the side of her breast, she moved and he pulled his hands away quickly.
She turned until she was lying on her back and he could see her bare stomach, lace-covered breasts, and the tops of the matching panties. He'd always thought she was a beautiful woman, but this… seeing the reality of it, took his breath away.
She saw the look on his face and laughed. "You like what you see?" she teased. Secretly, she was elated. 'Maybe something more between us could work,' she thought.
"A little too much," he admitted, tossing his dress shirt at her. "If you don't want me to turn into that alpha male you always accuse me of being, you'd better cover up."
She saw the intensity in his eyes and suddenly felt unable to deal with what she read there. She pulled the shirt on and folded it closed over her. She rezipped her pants and stood.
"I'll just get a shirt," she started.
"Never mind," he said, pulling on his undershirt and reaching for his jacket. "I'll be here in the morning for you to change my bandage. I can get it then."
As he headed for the door, she said, "Um… Booth, tomorrow morning, would you mind…?"
He turned back with a smile, "Sure, Temperance. I won't even make you ask." Then he closed the door quietly behind him. He wondered how in the world he was going to sleep after that. And he'd be coming back the next morning for more of the most pleasant torture he could imagine.
Brennan headed for bed, but she was unwilling to take off his shirt. She might not be ready to deal with his feelings, but she couldn't deny hers any longer. She expected to have a hard time sleeping, but his scent surrounded her and she slept deeply, feeling safe as though he held her in his arms.