Accessories of Epic Hotness
By: dharmamonkey & Lesera128
Rated: M
Disclaimer: Is anyone still reading these things? Of course, we include one with every story, more to amuse ourselves than anything. But, just in case anyone else gets a kick out of our pithy witticisms, here goes. Prepare for an excited utterance: WE OWN NOTHING. We still wish we did. We suspect many of our readers still wish we did, too. But, alas, we're just poor paupers who jacked you know who's Bones sandbox. Heh. So there.
A/N: We're back, baby! Our muses have finally kicked into turbo the last few days, so while we're still trying to finish up the next installment of "Echoes True and False" in our Angel/Bones series (that crossover thing gets kinda complicated, especially with all the interwoven canon plotlines and all those pesky flashbacks—what were we thinking?), we decided to dust off this lovely series and lay a new "Accessories" ditty on you fine people. So, without further ado, enjoy, our good readers, enjoy.
UNF Alert: Well, yes, we should warn you that this wee oneshot may get a little steamy. Not overly so, lest we cause any undue distress to readers gestating multiple fetuses, people recovering from minor dental surgery or those who are suffering the affects of the late summer heat in the southern latitudes of the Northern Hemisphere. Further disclaimer: Dharmasera Inc. is not responsible for skyrocketing dry cleaning bills as a result of the reading of any story we produce. (Your bodily fluids are your responsibility.) If the foregoing wasn't clear enough, let us be even clearer: if you don't like reading about steamy stuff, or are young enough that you shouldn't be, do us all a favor and find something else to read. All others, please proceed with due haste.
Chapter 3 - Sunglasses
It was a well-known fact that Special Agent Seeley Booth was just a normal, everyday, average Joe, what-you-see-is-what-you-get type of guy.
He made no bones about the fact that he'd just as soon stock his refrigerator with cans of Pabst Blue Ribbon beer instead of bottles of Yuengling. He took pride in the fact that he bought most of his clothing at Target, including his undershirts, boxers, and striped socks. And he saw no reason to spend extra money for name brand foods (with a few notable exceptions, including Dunkin Donuts coffee and Pringles), when the store's generic brands tasted just as good to him.
Yes, it appeared that Booth had the 'blue-collar guy from the streets of South Philly' thing down to a tee.
But, that carefully-cultivated image only went so far...especially for people who knew him...especially for someone who knew him as well as Dr. Temperance Brennan did.
For example, Brennan was one of the few people who knew that while Booth bought a substantial amount of his clothing at Target, that didn't include his dress shirts, ties, or suits. Those, he only grudgingly bought off the rack if he had to at Macys. Usually, he much preferred to special order his shirts and ties from the Lands End website and had his suits custom tailored by a little old Korean woman named Ming Na whose shop sat at the edge of D.C.'s Chinatown and was one of the Bureau's best kept secrets for where to go if a guy wanted to look the part of a classic G-man.
Booth also was quite the snob when it came to certain cosmetics. His selection of shaving creams, aftershaves, and hair gels rivaled even Brennan's daily ritual when she got dressed, and that included when she put on her makeup. Even more importantly, despite the fact that he took a significant amount of pleasure for cracking on Brennan about her Rolex watches and the silver Mercedes car she drove on occasion when she wanted to break up the monotony of driving her Prius, Booth himself was a designer accessory snob.
Case in point: he owned a pair of black Ray-Ban sunglasses.
That particular fact had always galled Brennan. After all, what was a so-called average joe doing wearing a pair of $300 non-prescription sunglasses? In keeping with the carefully-crafted image Booth had woven together over the years, it seemed more appropriate that he would be sporting—at most, and only if he was feeling frivolous—a $9.99 pair off of the rack from Target's accessory department. And, yet, as she finished her cursory examination of a set of partially skeletonized remains that had washed up along the shores of the Potomac at Fort Washington Park in Virginia, Booth stared impatiently down at her crouched form, looking down his nose at her over the lenses of said $300 pair of black Ray-Ban sunglasses with dark gray polarized lenses.
Yes, such hypocrisy annoyed Brennan. It annoyed Brennan a lot.
And, more importantly, on this particular day, she decided she was so annoyed that she was finally determined to do something about it.
Thus, as was usually the case when Dr. Temperance Brennan set her mind to something, Special Agent Seeley J. Booth never even knew what hit him.
One minute, everything seemed fine.
It was a beautiful spring morning, with just enough breeze coming off the river that it was cool without being unpleasant. Given how early in the morning it was, and the fact that there were no civilians around for him to interview but for one NPS ranger that had found the body, Booth had felt he could get away with being a bit more casual than usual. He'd left his black pinstripe suit jacket in his SUV, unbuttoned and rolled up the sleeves on his light blue Oxford dress shirt, and kept his sunglasses on as the bright rays of the rising sun promised to get too frigging bright for his own comfort. Brennan had been a bit more quiet than usual on the forty minute ride from her apartment in Georgetown out into Prince George's County in Maryland by way of the Outer Beltway. But, it hadn't bothered Booth who'd just amused himself by listening to a morning show recap of the the first week of spring training games in the Florida-based Grapefruit League and the Arizona-based Cactus League. By the time they got to the crime scene, his partner's unusual silence continued, but she remained professional and all seemed normal on the front of how she processed the crime scene. It was only after an hour had passed, and she'd let him know that she'd completed all the preliminary work that she could at the site, that Booth realized anything had changed.
The layout of the national park, home to the remnants of a historic masonry fort that had acted as a part of the defensive perimeter of Washington D.C. since the War of 1812 that loomed on a slightly distant bluff over them, had necessitated that Booth park his SUV some distance away from the other cars. It had been a half-mile hike downhill to reach the restricted part of the park where the body had been found near the lighthouse that helped navigators on the Potomac to keep from crashing into the Maryland side of the river. By the time they'd finished, the breeze off the river had disappeared, the sun was starting to make it more than slightly warm, and the uphill hike with all of her gear was making Brennan more cranky than she'd already been.
It wasn't like she hadn't tried to get the annoying fact that Booth was wearing sunglasses that were four times the cost of hers out of her head. Because, she had. She really had tried. But, when he'd continued to stare down at her, over the rim of the glasses, as she crouched over the remains, all her efforts became futile.
No, all she could picture was his handsome face smirking at her from behind the dark black sunglasses that hid his normally expressive warm brown eyes from her.
About half way back to the SUV, when Brennan decided she couldn't take it anymore, she abruptly dropped her equipment on the hard-packed dirt trail that they were climbing. Booth, who'd been a few steps ahead of her, turned around when he heard the dull thud of her two bags hitting the dusty trail.
"What's wrong, Bones?" he asked, speaking the first words the partners had exchanged in almost twenty minutes.
Looking over at him, Brennan's face had taken on a slight scowl as she shook her head and finally voiced some of the annoyance she felt because of him. "I find I'm more than slightly irritated because of you, Booth."
An easy, if slightly self-effacing, smile broke out on Booth's face as he nodded at her and said indulgently, "Okay, Bones. Tell me what I did now."
Putting her hands on her hips, she tilted her head and said, "It's not anything you've done recently, Booth. As a matter of fact, it's something that you've been doing for a long, long time now. However, I find that I have little patience to tolerate such things from you anymore."
Unable to help himself, since it was so rarely that Brennan got herself worked up into the tizzy it appeared she was tottering on the edge of falling into, Booth could only grin cockily as he replied, "Oh, really, Bones?" He took a playful step back towards her and then asked, "So, uhh, you gonna tell me what you don't want to put up with me about anymore or are you gonna make me play that guessing game you love, huh?"
Booth shoved his hands in his pockets and wiggled his heel in the dirt, staring at the ground for a moment before he laughed and looked up.
"You know," he said. "You do this to me. You throw out these impossibly vague questions and lob 'em at me, then give me this look like I'm some kind of epic dufus when I have no idea how to answer them because I don't know if you're asking about some sort of overarching philosophical point or looking for an animal, vegetable, mineral kind of answer. You drive me crazy with that, Bones."
Frowning again, and becoming even more annoyed that Booth seemed to be attempting to quite arrogantly usurp the moment of aggravation for himself and circumvent her own ire, clenched her hands by her sides. Her nostrils flared as her eyes narrowed, and she became even more frustrated when Booth hadn't even bothered to look up from the ground to notice her response. Letting out a sharp puff of breath from between her front teeth in what sounded like a sharp hiss, Brennan quickly closed the distance between them and jabbed her index finger hard into his chest.
"Don't you do that, Booth," she warned him. "This is not about you and your feelings at the moment, okay? This moment, right now, is all about me and how fucking badly you piss me off sometimes, so quit trying to usurp it."
Booth reached up and scratched his head. "Wait a minute," he said, his eyebrows raised as he shook his head slightly. "What did I do? I wasn't even saying anything. I was just standing here. How can I have pissed you off?"
"You are such a hypocrite, Booth," Brennan snapped. "You know that? H-y-p-o-c-r-i-t-e. A word that's derived from—"
"Thanks, Bones," he snorted, interrupting her with a roll of his dark brown eyes. "But I know how to spell, mm'kay? I was born at night, but I wasn't born last night. And, I'm pretty good with Latin, okay? Altar boy, remember?"
"Yes, Booth," she said with a sharp laugh. "I recall your previous narrative recollections of your tenure as a sacramental attendant in your weekly religious rituals. But, in this particular instance, your training at the sacristy was incorrect because the word 'hypocrite' is derived from the Greek word hupokritēs as in one who plays a part or hupokrinein, a verb that means to feign, from krinein..."
Booth shrugged sheepishly. "Greek, Latin—close enough for government work, huh?" he said with a grin.
"I'm sure the members of the Hellenic culture versus the Romanii tribes would disagree," Brennan said with the critique sharp in her voice as she shook her head and stomped past him to reach the passenger's side of the SUV.
"Whatever, Bones," Booth said, his growing irritation making his voice edge higher as he followed after her with a muttered curse under his breath.
When she heard him mutter, his use of profanity only riled her up further and so Brennan chose to continue baiting him. "So much for that quality Pennsylvania public school education, let alone the rigors of that collegiate work of yours within the hallowed halls of University Park, huh, Booth?" she called over her shoulder. "Gooo Lions!"
"What?" he hissed, his heavy footfalls quickly closing the distance between them. "Don't go crapping on my college, okay? We can't all be fancy-schmancy Northwestern University, Ph.D. brainiacs, okay?" Booth reached up and adjusted his Ray-Bans as he rolled his eyes again. "Seriously, Bones," he said, taking a couple of more steps towards her as he cocked his head to one side, the humor fading from his lopsided grin. "Come on. What's your problem, huh? 'Cause I still don't know who crapped in your Fruit Loops this morning, but it's getting to be a bit tiresome."
Pursing her lips, Brennan finally replied in a sharp tone, "I told you, Booth. My problem is you."
"Great," he replied sarcastically. "That really narrows it down. Well ya know what, Bones? I'm a pretty frickin' simple guy. What ya see is what ya get, so why don't we narrow things down a bit so I can figure what what the fuck your problem is, hmmm?"
If Booth could've said any more perfectly inappropriate words that wouldn't have set her off further in that moment than he did, looking back later, Brennan wasn't sure what they were as she felt her anger burn brightly as he fingered his designer sunglasses. Gritting her teeth and reaching out with both her hands, she grabbed two fistfuls of the tailored Lands End special ordered dress Oxford shirt that he wore and pulled so hard the tails almost came out of his suit trousers. Brennan then proceeded to spin on her heels, using the element of surprise she had, and used all the momentum she had to slam Booth up against the rear passenger side door of the SUV. Before she could change her mind, she threw her body up against him and smashed her lips against his.
For a few moments, Booth didn't move his lips at all, so surprised was he by her sudden assault. After a couple of seconds, as he recovered enough to take a breath through his nose, his nostrils filled with the smell of her perfume, a subtle mixture of one of the two scents she wore, depending on the time of year. While Brennan normally favored a vanilla/amber scent in the fall and winter months, during the spring and summer, she preferred to wear a lighter and fresher white citrus scent that, combined with her sweat, tickled Booth's nostrils as he breathed it in deeply. He felt a raw tingle race up his spine as he felt all of his senses tingle in response to her. As he felt her lips move slightly against his, Booth took another breath, less because he needed the oxygen and more because he wanted to inhale another whiff of her intoxicating scent, then parted his lips and, at last, welcomed her kiss. As soon as he'd opened his mouth, he felt her tongue surge past his lips and glance against his own tongue, and he moaned at finally tasting her again after so long an absence.
Hearing him groan at her because of what she was doing to him, something almost primal fueled her actions and left no room for logical or rationality to retake control of the situation. Brennan leaned into the kiss, pressing her hips against his groin as she sought out his tongue with hers. For a moment, with the blood roaring in his ears and the ground seemingly beginning to spin beneath his feet, Booth reached for her hips and tried to push her away, but as he felt her tongue glance once more against his, he found himself relaxing into her grasping kiss despite his intention not to do so. A low hum sounded from deep in his throat as he found himself squeezing her hips reflexively, pulling his mouth away from hers just enough to moan her name quietly against her lips before she moved in again to swallow his murmurs in the sound of her own aggressive, sucking kiss. Again, she jerked her body against his, unable to resist a slight smile as she felt his arousal pressing against her through the thin summer-weight wool of his trousers.
She chuckled in the small space between their mouths as she felt him finally give in, opening his mouth wider as his tongue finally went on the offensive, sweeping across her lips and into her mouth as he closed his big, strong hands around her waist and pulled her body flush against his. Booth's eyes rolled back in his head as his hands began to migrate from her waist to the small of her back, hesitating there for a fleeting second before sliding down to palm her ass. He murmured into her mouth as he kissed her, his lips grasping hungrily for hers as his fingers curled slightly, his fingertips pressing into her flesh as he began to squeeze her ass.
Finally, after a long moment, Brennan found herself growing somewhat light-headed from lack of oxygen as she savored the taste of his mouth. She felt her nipples tightening in a delicious way underneath the smooth material of her sleek dark blue Jeffersonian jumpsuit that registered in her mind at the same moment she realized she was becoming aroused by their kissing. The jolt of pleasure she felt caused her to press her body more tightly against his, crushing her pert and round tits against his chest, causing another inadvertent grunt to escape Booth's lips before he finally managed to rasp a single word.
"Bones..." he murmured against their kiss.
When she heard him softly grunt her name―the name that he alone called her―combined with the increasing pressure she felt of his hard cock press into her thigh, it was enough to get rational thought to once again boot in her mental processes. However, it took a minute before her higher brain functions wrested control away from her limbic system. She continued to greedily seek out his lips as she swept his mouth one last time with her tongue, then reluctantly, she pulled away.
Gasping for breath, Brennan lifted her dark blue eyes, already heavily lidded from her want of him, and saw his eyes had blackened when he returned her gaze with an intense stare of inflamed want present in them.
"Why...did...you...do...that?" he rasped, his heart pounding so hard that he was afraid his ear drums might pop if such a thing was possible.
"I...don't...know..." Brennan choked out, knowing it was foolish to attempt to talk at the same time she was trying to push some much needed oxygen into her lungs. "I don't know why I kissed you. One minute, you were just so smug and sanctimonious in your designer sunglasses and then we were kissing―"
"No," he said, taking a step towards her as he leveled a questioning stare at her. "Not that. Why did you pull away?"
"Honestly?" Brennan said with a small sigh of frustration. "Because a small part of my brain realized we're in a national park and ostensibly still here in a professional capacity, you've obviously just gotten a hard-on from our impromptu public display of foreplay, and once I felt I was getting wet because of the way you were kissing me and touching me―"
As soon as he heard the word 'wet' pass from her lips, Booth's higher mental functions flickered and then just blacked out as his nostrils flared and his darkened eyes narrowed even further. A low, rumbling growl sounded from his throat and, keeping his hands firmly attached to her hips, he twirled them around and gently slammed her against the passenger side door.
"Fuck where we are," he muttered, tilting his head to the side as his lips hovered just fractions of an inch from hers. "I don't care where the fuck we are. You..." He gritted his teeth and swallowed hard, then shook his head very slightly as he brushed his lips against hers. "You're..." Frustrated by his inability to form a coherent thought as he felt her breath tickle his upper lip, he grunted and brought his hands up, skating his palms over the round curves of her breasts before arriving at the zipper at the top of her jumpsuit. He took a breath and, for a moment, hesitated as he brought his eyes up to meet hers.
Licking her lips, Brennan's pink tongue darted out of her mouth for a minute as she held his gaze. Then, giving him a lopsided grin, she said in a low voice, "Booth?"
"Whuh?" he grunted back, clearly more intent on focusing on her mouth and imagining what it could do to him than the actual words that were coming out of it.
"I think you're going to have to special order some more of these expensive dress Oxfords you love so much," Brennan said as she reached out and grabbed for the loosened shirt tails she'd pulled out of his pants earlier. "You know, the ones you don't buy at Target like you want everyone to think you do?"
"Why?" Booth asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.
Brennan didn't give a verbal response, but proceeded to answer by viciously ripping his shirt open from the bottom up. Small clear buttons went flying, scattering in all directions as she tore his shirt open and then moved in to kiss him again pausing only for a beat before she did so..
"That's why," she said with a husky laugh as she slipped her hands under his T-shirt. Her fingertips ghosted over the smooth skin of his abdomen, skimming over the curves that marked his well-defined rectus abdominus muscles before she traced one of her thumbs around the rim of his firm navel. She grinned as she felt his muscles tighten beneath her fingers and heard him suck in a sharp, quick breath between his teeth at the sensation.
"Oh, God," he moaned as he craned his head back and let the searing sense of pleasure he felt at her touch overwhelm his senses.
"Mmmmm..." was her only response as she then pressed herself up against him and took Booth's advice as she forgot anything and everything but him in that moment. "Indeed."
A/N2: "What? You freakin' people stopped it there?" Yep, we sure did. Don't hate us. It was still pretty hot, right? And maybe we'll nail a line drive RBI double to bring the runner home in the next chapter. (Apologies to our non-baseball oriented European readers. Sorry. We love baseball. We are what we are, LOL.) That is, maybe there'll be UNF of the most epic kind in the next chapter. We'll have to see... *wink*
Ah, yes. The next one. The first three "Accessories" have all involved things Booth wears that set Brennan off. Well, it's time to even things up a bit. The next accessory will be a Brennan item that sets Booth off in a very real way. Next in the queue is "Earrings." Chew on that one for a while... *waggles eyebrows*
In the meantime, let us know how we did. Please take a moment to leave us a review in that very conveniently-located little review box below. If you're not logged into FFnet and want us to know who you are when you review, sign your name to it. Otherwise, we may be left wondering where to send flowers... ;-)
As always, thanks for reading. You guys are great.
