A/N: I already had this chapter typed up, hence why this was posted so quickly. So, word of warning. In the beginning of this story, both Booth and Brennan are going to be in heavy relationships with other people. Or… Well, Brennan is. Booth will just be emotionally invested; you'll see what I mean in a couple of chapters. My point is, I still promise that this will end up B/B, however I have to ask that you stick with me for this. I don't know how long any OC will stay, so I'm going to ask that you tell me if you like them and want them to reoccur. I don't know what I'm doing, yet, so any opinions you guys have will be cool. There are only going to be two OC's that can return later on- one will have to be involved, at least for a couple of chapters, but the one in this chapter doesn't have to be. Opinions are lovely, guys. (:
Also, I apologize that the beginning chapters are pretty short.
B&B&B&B&B&B&B
After Hannah, Booth fell in love two more times.
The first was a year after the end of his last relationship. New York was no stranger to brutal murders, and nosy journalists were no strangers to him. At first, he paid them little to no mind; they brought back memories of his ex-girlfriend and the mess that caused that he just didn't want to delve into. But eventually, that was too much to avoid, when he was at the mercy of a particularly persistent woman. It was his fault, really. He thought she had been a suspect, simply because she'd been lurking around all of the crime scenes he'd been at for the past month, and he wanted to know her angle, though his gut told him she couldn't hurt a fly. Still, he was curious. He paid some rookie to go out and arrest her, and he had a smirk on his face as he observed her from the other side of the two-way mirror. She was slumped in one of the uncomfortable chairs, her feet hoisted up on the table, and he realized they must have let her keep her cell phone because she was absentmindedly checking her email. After a few minutes, he entered the interrogation room, poised with professionalism.
"Ms. Riter, is it?"
The woman was not phased by the fact that she was currently in custody. The aforementioned woman smirked, as though she knew something Booth didn't, and cocked an eyebrow. "Didja get that from the police report? Glad to know you can read. Can you do any other tricks?"
He chuckled at her feisty nature, settling down in the seat opposite of her. "I bet can tie you to the victims." That was a lie, flat out, and by her laugh, he knew he hadn't been all that convincing.
"Oh, okay. You're going to tie me to a series of victims that aren't even linked in themselves? That's a great trick, especially considering you know yourself that I didn't do anything." He looked at her- Mimi Riter was undeniably pretty. She was tiny (he wouldn't guess she were any taller than five foot, if that) and had a slender figure, held tight by a professional black dress that showed off just enough leg to drive him a little mad if he stared long enough. She had an innocent-looking face with a contradictory devilish look in her hazel eyes and long, curly brown hair.
"Then why were you at the crime scenes?" he continued, disinterested in her response- he just wanted to see what she could bark out at him. She was probably just a lowly journalist.
"For kicks?" she shrugged simply, "An attempt to get laid? I love a man in uniform?"
Booth merely smirked, cocking an eyebrow and glancing down at his attire. Mimi chuckled. "Who said anything about you being a man?"
And from there, falling for her was easy like Sunday morning.
She had a fiery personality that was unrivaled by any other woman he met in his entire life. If he thought Bones was hard to handle, she was nothing compared to the short woman who was quick with the tongue- both in wit and in the bedroom. They didn't start becoming serious until she opened up and spilled some of her vulnerabilities to him. It all happened so fast, really, far too unexpected for him to wrap his mind around right away.
They'd just gone out for a rather lovely dinner and were walking back to his apartment when a rumble of thunder stopped her in her tracks. He stopped a few feet ahead, turning back with a bemused look on his face. "C'mon, Em," he prompted, though his brows knitted together as he noticed that she was hell bent on staying in that spot. It was then he saw that her face was flushed and she looked as though she'd just seen a ghost, which was preposterous because he knew that if Mimi Riter ever came face to face with a ghost she'd kick its ass right back to hell.
He returned to her, placing two fingers beneath her chin in an attempt to get her to look at him. Embarrassed, Mimi awkwardly tore her head away and closed her eyes, clearing her throat. "On, uhm. On second thought, maybe… M-maybe we should just call it a night." Booth was confused, but as another clap of thunder prompted a violent shudder, he sighed. "Are you… Afraid of the…?"
"Phobia," she murmured simply, "Therapy hasn't gotten me this far yet. I'm fine. I'll be fine. I just need to…"
Booth shook his head, drawing her into a tight embrace. "C'mon. We'll go back to my place and turn on loud music and cuddle, how does that sound?"
Her face buried into his chest. "It sounds like you're going soft on me."
He chuckled. "That's what happens when you like someone. You get a soft spot for 'em."
"You sound like a Hallmark card," she groaned, the heavy exhale warm against his chest.
Booth smirked, dipping his head so his lips were right next to her ear. "I could always distract you in other ways," he murmured, "And there would be nothing soft about that."
Mimi laughed, covering her mouth with her hand. "Did you just make a sexual innuendo?"
"Yes," Booth said matter-of-factly, scooping her up in his arms and beginning the trek back to safety.
The next morning, Booth woke up to, surprisingly, an empty bed. Mimi usually slept in longer than he did and even if she didn't, she always stuck around until he woke up. Or, if she was feeling particularly restless, he'd wake up to her removing his boxers like it was the most casual thing in the world to prepare for giving a hand job to a sleeping man. But she wasn't there, and his boxers were still on, so his stomach twisted with worry.
A loud crash from the kitchen aroused his attention and he slowly stood, creeping out until his kitchen came into view. He swore he'd never saw anything cuter. There stood Mimi, covered in pancake batter and flour, the entire kitchen a mess. She stood looking at the stove in a distressed fashion, looking frustrated, and he announced his presence with a loud guffaw. She shot a glare his direction, after getting over the initial startle, and she folded her arms across her chest. "It's not funny," she muttered, surveying the kitchen with distaste.
"But… It… It's so funny," he breathed between chuckles, moving up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist. "Darling, you burnt a TV dinner last time you tried to make one. What on earth would you possess you to…" He paused, checking the ingredients. "Make pancakes?"
"You like pancakes," she muttered simply, leaning limply back against him, "I was hoping for some early morning sex, you know. No big deal. A bribe."
Booth's eyes widened, and he smirked, peering down at her. "You were doing something nice for me," he taunted.
Mimi scoffed- she was a terrible liar. Shifting from one foot to the other, she shook her head. "Why the hell would I do something nice for you?"
He tightened his grip around her and began swaying on the spot. "Because you like me," he sang childishly, dropping a kiss to the base of her neck. She would of protested if he had not done that, but instead, she could only give a sigh of approval. "You suck," she murmured.
Booth shook his head, grinning. "I'm more of a licking kind of guy. You should know that." He spun her around, pulling her up against him. She merely chuckled. "You're so horny in the mornings."
Shrugging, he captured her lips in a quick kiss. "You've got to get yourself cleaned up, anyways. I might as well help you out."
"Bedroom?"
"Too far away. Bathroom?"
"You dropped me last time. Kitchen floor?"
"Bad for my back. Counter?"
"How is that any better?"
"How is that not any better?"
"Deal."
Their chemistry was undeniable. They both drove each other mad ("I'm not going to give you information on this fucking case." "Why not?" "Because I'm not supposed to." "I'm not supposed to throw spit balls at secretaries, but I do that anyways." "You… You're so infuriating!") but as time went on, both realized they were just doing it for the sake of getting make up sex and their fights grew to be more petty. He realized he was in love with her when, one night, they were laying in bed and he was trying to keep her awake long enough to watch Conan O'Brien, because he knew that she'd been wanting to watch her favorite talk show for quite a long time.
"Mmph, Booth," she mumbled, curling up delicately at his side. It astounded him how much of her fiery personality she lost when she was tired. She was like a cat, and he had to admit it was pretty adorable.
"Mm, what?" he murmured, pressing a few kisses to her neck, "You're sleepy."
"Am not," she protested, groaning. Her hand found its way to the back of his head, fingers tangling in with his hair. He took that as a sign that she wanted more, so he trailed his kisses down the length of her body. He looked up as her back arched, and he grinned, crawling back up to enclose her in his arms.
"Mimi," he murmured, kissing her lips softly, "You should sleep."
"You should suck a dick."
He laughed at her half-hearted attempt at an insult, kissing her again until her eyes opened. "You should still sleep." Booth watched as she moved closer to him, curling up so her body was mostly on top of his. Despite her exhaustion, she hoisted herself up so she was straddling his stomach, her legs folded neatly beneath her. "If I had a dick I'd make you suck it," she murmured sleepily, rubbing her eyes. He could only smile, his hands resting on her legs, thumbs absentmindedly stroking her thighs.
And then, it slipped out.
"I love you, Em."
He watched as she froze, eyes widened as she stared down at him. He knew that she hadn't had the best experiences with men in the past; cheated on by a fiancé, referred to as a hobby by a man she thought she could trust. Her father had died when she was a child and her step-father was a less than quality man. He knew she was afraid, for he could see it in her eyes, and he responded by kissing her softly. "Don't say it back until you're ready," he murmured, and he rolled her over until she was laying beside him again.
After a good ten or so minutes, she spoke up. "Do you mean it?"
Booth's eyes traced her facial features, noticing the rare vulnerability in her eyes. He smiled softly, stroking her cheek. "Yes," he murmured, and very faintly, he heard the lovely female beside him whisper, "I love you too."
Booth had, for the first time in a long time, found happiness. Even though he and Mimi hadn't worked out (for reasons that were mostly his fault- he was frightened and let her go), she had woken him up to the possibility of love and for that he was eternally grateful. He knew he'd hurt her, though, and felt guilty for that. He hadn't seen her since their tearful goodbye and for all he knew, she'd moved on to the next big city, just because she couldn't stand the thought of seeing him anymore.
B&B&B&B&B&B&B
A/N: I know that this OC wasn't as developed, but that's because this particular relationship with Booth isn't as significant. But I know she'll probably be referenced so I wanted to write it out. I know everything about Mimi, though, so if I do bring her in later on down the line, she'll get more development.
And, again, let me know if you do want her referenced later. (:
If you're having trouble picturing her, think of Lauren Graham.
Brennan's the complete focus of next chapter.
