A/N: Sorry for the delayed update. I was struggling to get this chapter the way I wanted and eventually gave up, sending what I had written off to the boneyard. Then, like a damn zombie, it just wouldn't die. It kept moaning in my ear and roaming aimlessly around in my brain as I tried to write something else, anything else. Anyway, I decided to resurrect it and am posting it so I'm not stuck fixating on it as the holidays pass us by. Be gone, evil chapter. I cast thee away.
We'll come back to the Elf on a Shelf later, but now, for something a little different . . .
Note rating change.
Disclaimer: I own nothing Bones related except my imagination. (12/10/2016)
STORY 2 – HOLIDAY SHOPPING
". . . and Hank Booth's stroller is sneaking up on the outside lane . . . vrrrooom, vrrrooom . . ." Special Agent Seeley Booth babbled to his son like a NASCAR announcer at the Talladega Superspeedway as they navigated the throngs of holiday shoppers cluttering the main aisle of Tyson's Corner Mall where Bones had dragged them for some last minute Saturday morning Christmas shopping. ". . . and look at that, ladies and gentlemen, Hank Booth has just pulled out in front of another one of St. Nick's minions. Woo hoo," he cheered quietly while impatiently checking his watch once more.
Brennan had ditched both her men shortly after they arrived at the mall, claiming she had a few things to pick up that she didn't need an audience for and Booth had taken advantage of the separation to pick up a few items that he planned to wrap and place under the tree for her. However, they weren't scheduled to meet up again for another 30 minutes and he'd already had his fill of joyous shopping cheer and can't-be-beat holiday bargains. Despite his legendary love of all things Christmas, his tolerance of the frantic consumer driven hordes was not infinite. Booth and Hank were ready to head home and leave the crowds behind. Besides, it would be lunch time soon and the Booth men needed to eat.
Luckily for Booth, being a special agent with the FBI whose wife's best-friend just happened to be a technology wizard did come with a few unique perks. So, he pushed Hank's stroller in between the calendar kiosk and one displaying knit scarves, out of the flow of pedestrian traffic, and whipped out his phone, activating the app Angela had developed and installed that would direct him to within 10 feet of his missing wife's whereabouts. According to Angela, her app was better than anything Apple or Google had available and she was damned tired of worrying about Booth or Brennan disappearing on her yet again.
Booth's phone showed Brennan's position about three hundred feet west of his and Hank's location, so off they went weaving in and out of shoppers with more vrrrooom, vrrroooms, even spinning a doughnut at one surprising gap that opened up in the swarm of consumers. Based on the giggles and chortling sounds emanating from the front of the stroller with that maneuver, Hank had inherited his mother's penchant for uninhibited spontaneity. They were gonna have their hands full with this one as he grew older, Booth predicted.
The store Booth and Hank finally ended up in didn't seem at all like the type of place Bones would shop. The clothing on display seemed more tailored to rebellious teenagers, with mannequins wearing ripped jeans and shirts that hung low off the shoulder yet rode high above the belly button. Even though his phone showed he should be standing right in front of her, he couldn't see his wife anywhere. Given their history and what they did for a living, he felt his heart rate start to accelerate. Fear over why she wouldn't be where her phone said she should be started to pulse through his veins. Booth was about to try calling her number when a stranger's voice interrupted him.
"Cute kid."
"Huh?" Booth looked up from his phone to see a teenage girl with bright pink tinted hair, way too much eyeliner, and a shiny silver nose ring smiling down at Hank who, at only eighteen months, was already mastering the hallmark Booth charm smile, grinning back at her like she was his very own fairy princess come to life. "Oh, yeah. Thanks. Gets his looks from his mom." Booth glanced around the room, wondering where the hell Bones was. "Gets his smarts from her too."
"Right," the girl laughed, thinking the guy needed to take a closer look in the mirror if he was only crediting his wife for the kid's good looks. "You look a little lost and not like one of our usual customers. My name is Bethany." She pointed to her employee name tag pinned loosely to her shirt. "Can I help you find anything particular?"
"Nah. Well, maybe." Booth looked around again. "I'm trying to find my wife and according to my phone, she should be right here." Booth flashed the phone screen at the young girl, showing her the white dot that was supposed to be Brennan. "Have you seen a woman come in here, late thirties, about 5'-9" tall, and auburn hair?" He pulled his phone back and flipped quickly to his photo gallery, finding a shot of Brennan that he could show to the girl.
Bethany leaned in and took a look, noticing the woman in the picture truly was as beautiful as the man holding the phone was hot. Maybe the toddler did get his looks from her after all. Hard to say with two such good looking parents. "Mmm, she doesn't seem familiar." She shook her head and pointed to the ceiling. "Maybe you should try upstairs."
"Upstairs?" Booth looked up at the ceiling above his head, realizing as he did so that he wasn't actually going to be able to see anything up there, but unable to resist the urge to look anyway.
"Yeah, Level 2, you know. Victoria's Secret is right above us on the next level and I bet that fancy app of yours doesn't specify floors. I gotta say, your wife looks like the type that would be more likely to shop in a store like that than a store like this. Just sayin'."
"Right. Level 2. Good idea. I'll try that." He spun Hank's stroller around with a quick 180-turn, making the toddler squeal with laughter and clap his hands in delight again. "Thanks for the help," Booth threw over his shoulder as he went in search of the elevators. Bones in a lingerie store, he thought. Now that had potential for making this shopping excursion to the holiday horde hell worthwhile . . . .
Booth double-checked his phone several times as he and Hank made their way to Victoria's Secret on the 2nd floor just to make sure Brennan didn't wander off somewhere else while they were in transit, but her white dot seemed to stay in the same general place.
Trying to be subtle, Booth pushed the stroller past the entrance to the store as he glanced through the display windows and open doors. He didn't want to interrupt Brennan if she was shopping for something sexy to surprise him with in the bedroom, but, let's be real, what red-blooded man would be able to resist trying to at least get a peek of what might be under consideration? It took three passes by the front doors before he finally spotted her, standing near the dressing rooms in the back of the store and talking to an attractive, young, blonde sales-clerk.
It was obvious that Brennan had several different items in her hands that she was discussing with Blondie, but there were too many merchandise display racks between the ladies and Booth for him to be able to see what goodies she held. Usually it was Angela who dragged Bones into stores like this, so he knew she was used to having someone help her make her selections. He was oh-so-very tempted to go on into the store and give his wife his opinion, but expected that as soon as Hank saw his mother, the little boy would demand all her attention and they'd probably end up leaving without purchasing anything. (Hank was in one of those phases of extreme attachment to his mom these days and, having been apart for almost two hours now, was likely to want some dedicated coddling as soon as he spotted her.) However, as Booth stood there watching and debating his plan of action, Blondie followed Brennan into the dressing room area, presumably to fill Angela's typical role of proffering advice. Booth figured he and Hank could at least sneak further into the store and take up a spot inside that would give him a better view. He'd just make sure Hank's stroller was facing the other direction and hope the little guy didn't key in on his mother's voice.
Weaving the stroller between colorful racks of silks, satins, and lace, Booth took up a position just outside the dressing area with his back to the hallway and Hank facing the opposite wall. Once again, he pulled out his phone and pretended to be studying the screen, hoping that would deter anyone else from interrupting him. If he concentrated, he could hear part of a conversation occurring within the dressing room. He could only hear one side and assumed he was listening to Blondie who was likely standing in the hallway outside Brennan's dressing room.
.
"Now THAT looks gorgeous on you."
.
Blondie laughed. "Yes, I'd say it's worth at least a 'yowza' if not a whole lot more. Try on this one next."
.
.
.
"No, not at all. It's a bit racy, certainly, but look how the material falls around your hips, teasing and tempting. If you wear that for a lover, I doubt you'll be wearing it for long."
.
.
.
"Personally, I find women with full, curvy figures like yours are much more attractive than those stick-thin model types."
.
"Two kids? Really? Well, you look great . . . I suppose the two kids mean there's a husband in the picture too?"
.
"Figures. It's just like they say, the good ones are always taken. Here, try this one next."
.
What the hell? Booth thought. It kind of sounded like Blondie was flirting with his wife. Over the next several minutes, he caught several other snippets of conversation that reinforced that impression. Booth couldn't decide whether he found that thought annoying or arousing, finally deciding he was feeling a little of both, which resulted in him also feeling some confusion and frustration too. Eventually, he heard Blondie offer to carry Brennan's selections to the cash register while Brennan finished getting dressed.
Booth turned and tried to see what Blondie had in her hands as she left the dressing room, but all he glimpsed was a flash of some sort of sheer black mesh type fabric. Not wanting to get caught hovering outside the dressing room by Brennan, he quickly steered the baby stroller back towards the front doors and took up a position outside of the store, lounging against the balcony railing while he tried patiently to wait for Brennan to finish making her purchases.
When they got home, Booth retreated down into his man cave where he wrapped and hid the gifts he'd picked up for Brennan, making sure they were safely tucked away for a couple more weeks. Entering the kitchen a little while later, he couldn't help but let his eyes roam over her as he thought about the snippet of conversation he'd eavesdropped on at the mall while she finished feeding Hank his lunch.
"When's Max supposed to bring Christine home from their big day together?" he asked.
Brennan grabbed a wet cloth and started to clean Hank's sticky fingers. "Not until late this afternoon. They were planning to do some shopping together, then grab some lunch down at the National Harbor before heading over to the Gaylord resort's annual ICE exhibit. I believe this year's theme highlights Christmas traditions from around the world and is supposed to include almost 5,000 ice sculptures."
"Oh, that's right."
Brennan glanced over at her husband thinking he seemed somewhat distracted, like his mind was only partially on the conversation. He'd been that way since they'd left the mall. "There's a plate of leftovers from last night in the fridge if you want to heat that up for your lunch. I'm going to go put Hank down for his nap now."
"Sounds good. Thanks." Booth found the plate of food and stuck it in the microwave before grabbing himself a beer and then sitting down at one of the high-backed, swivel barstools that flanked the kitchen island to eat. When Brennan returned several minutes later, he was just finishing his meal, staring aimlessly into the distance.
She grabbed a dish rag from the sink and started wiping down the counter tops. "Everything okay, Booth?"
"Hmm? Oh, yeah."
"You seem very preoccupied."
"Nah, it's just . . . I was wondering . . . do you think that sales clerk at Victoria's Secret this morning was hitting on you?" Booth watched her closely to see how she reacted, but unsurprisingly, Brennan seemed unperturbed.
"You mean because she wrote her cell phone number on my receipt with a note to call her, anytime?"
"No. Wait – what? She really did that?"
Brennan raised her eyebrows at Booth's reaction. "It's not like I have any intention of calling her, Booth. You should know that. However, you seem quite surprised by her actions. Objectively, by our current social standards, I am still considered a good-looking woman. You don't believe other people still find me attractive?"
"Of course they do. I mean, look at you. You're gorgeous, and you know I still find you attractive." Booth deliberately let his eyes slowly caress her from head to toe and back again as he visually catalogued the creaminess of her skin, the gentle curves that highlighted her femininity, and the tilt of her lips that let him know she knew exactly what was going through his mind right then and she was pleased. When he spoke again, his voice was lower than usual and carried a rougher, husky timber to it. "I totally do. It's just . . . you know, I guess I'm used to knowing guys check you out when you walk by, and I know some of them even hit on you from time to time, but I never really thought about whether women sometimes hit on you too."
"Sometimes," Brennan shrugged. "Not as often as when I was younger, but it happens on occasion."
A moment passed in silence as she rinsed out her rag and moved to another counter top. Booth cleared his throat. "So . . . have you ever . . . ?"
"What? Engaged in sexual activities with another woman you mean?"
His only verbal response was a soft and short spoken "well, yeah," but his non-verbal response spoke much louder to her. Brennan could see the slight flush of deeper color on Booth's neck skin beneath his tan. His pupils were dilated making those chocolatey orbs she loved to drown in seem almost endless in their depth. His breathing was a little more shallow, a little more rapid than normal and his muscles had quieted with a tension as he waited for her answer, almost like he was battling a fight or flight urge. A clear indication that his norepinephrine levels were elevated.
"The thought of me sexually interacting with another woman arouses you." It was a statement of observation, not a question, confirmed by the way he fidgeted in his chair, but didn't even attempt to dial back the heat in his gaze.
Brennan studied him for a moment before tossing the dish rag she'd still had in her hands into the sink and making her way around the kitchen island where he sat to stand behind him, speaking as she went. "You know, women are generally much more open about their sexuality than men and, statistically, women are more likely to explore sexual intimacy with a same sex partner at some point in their lives than most men. Bisexuality is not uncommon." She slipped her arms around his waist from behind, placing her hands palm down across his abdomen before slowly sliding them upwards until she was cupping the underside of his pectoral muscles, using the nails on her thumbs to scrape back and forth gently (but not too gently) across his nipples until they beaded. She ignored his sudden inhalation of breath as she placed her lips right beside his ear, purring in a sultry tone that even Audrey Hepburn would envy "What you really want to know is whether I've ever touched another woman's breasts, just like I'm touching yours right now . . . weighing them in my hands . . . squeezing them, like this . . . or caressing them softly . . . teasing the nipples to erection. You want to know whether I've ever taken one into my mouth . . . sucking and swirling my tongue around the tip, here, before using my teeth . . . like I do when I'm in bed with you. Is that right?"
"Bones." Her name came out of his mouth on an exhalation of the breath he'd been holding followed by a deep masculine moan as she worried his earlobe with her teeth and the tip of her tongue. "Fuck. It's just . . . it's a guy thing," he tried to explain as her hands slid back down his abdomen and started tugging his shirt free from his waistband. "I swear . . . I don't want you with anyone but me, you know I don't, but, you know . . . the fantasy . . ." Together, they pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it haphazardly to the side. ". . . two women together, picturing one of them as you . . . I'm a guy and guys find it . . . ooooh," he ended on a groan as her hands were back on his chest now, bare skin-to-bare skin, and she was placing open mouthed kisses on his neck, trailing down to his shoulders, using a combination of lips, tongue, and teeth to send ripples of sensation up and down his spine.
"No one understands how to pleasure a woman's body better than another woman. Angela once told me that."
Booth's control was hanging by a thread now. He reached one arm up over his head and grabbed Brennan, tangling his fingers in her hair to hold onto her as he pulled her mouth away from his shoulder, spun his barstool around, and then pulled her bodily in to him, chest-to-chest, finally. For the next several minutes, his lips danced with hers in a deep, unrelenting kiss as disjointed images flashed through his mind. His hands slid down her back and when they reached the curve of her bottom, he pulled her close between his splayed legs, pressing her pelvis tight to his as he ground his erection into her stomach, ensuring she knew just how much she was affecting him. When they finally broke for air, he grinned down at her. "So, you and Angela, huh?"
Brennan's eyes twinkled merrily as she laughed and denied his conclusion. "No. Angela's my best friend and we have always spoken quite openly about matters related to sex, but we've never been physically intimate with one another. Not like that." She leaned forward, sipping the salt from his skin as she nibbled on the expanse of skin on display in front of her now. "Sorry to disappoint."
"Nah, that's actually good . . . real good." He began working on the buttons to Brennan's blouse. "I'm not sure I'd ever be able to concentrate on anything else again when you two were together if I knew that you and she . . . that the two of you had . . . you know . . . "
"Had sex."
"Right. That." Brennan's blouse fell to their feet with a soft swoosh, her bra following shortly thereafter and Booth mimicked her earlier actions, cupping her breasts in his palms and teasing her nipples with his thumbnails until he elicited a moan from her. "You never answered my original question though." He pinched and tugged the tips until she gasped in pleasure. "Have you ever?"
Brennan's eyes wandered down to the impressive bulge at the front of her husband's pants as she debated the best way to respond. She reached for his buckle, sliding the belt free of the clasp. "While I will freely admit that there have been times when I've been curious on an intellectual level about the appeal of a same sex liaison . . ." Snap, snap, snap – with a little tug, the button fly of his jeans popped open all the way, ". . . I've never personally been enticed to indulge." Slipping the tips of her fingers into his jeans pockets, she tugged and pushed on his pants until he lifted his hips enough for her to expose his frivolous holiday-themed snowman boxers. Reaching into his open pants, she wrapped her hand around his cock and gave it a not-so-gentle stroke. "I enjoy this part too much."
"Aaah, Jesus, Bones. Careful there, it's loaded."
"I'm not just referring to how much I love your penis either, talented though it is," she teased. Brennan continued to stroke him, expertly massaging his glans with her thumb on the upstroke and subsequently tantalizing his scrotum as much as possible given the restrictions of his clothing on the down stroke. "I appreciate the beauty of all aspects of the human body, male or female, short or tall, plump or thin – it's all fascinating to me, but it's only the physique like yours that I've ever found sexually alluring. A woman's bare breast, while interesting, does not cause the release of hormones in my system that occurs when I see a well-cut male whose acromia tapers in a 'V' down to his iliac crest, or whose abdominal muscles visibly ripple when he moves. For a purely physical sexual response, one that causes my heart to race and my pussy to get wet, I'm drawn to the bodily characteristics that anthropologically are associated with alpha males – dominant brow ridge, strong jaw, muscular arms and legs –"
"Enough." Booth cut her off with another panty-wetting kiss. "I get it." Kiss. "You're not into women." Kiss.
"Just you, Booth. Just you."
What followed next didn't require any more words. It was a familiar, but still exciting, choreography of hands and lips touching skin as they each worked to pleasure the other. Their remaining clothes fell by the wayside to allow for more intimate touches and caresses. With loving attention laved on the part of his body that so defined him as male, she brought him to the cusp of release, then backed off to draw things out. He reciprocated, doing the same with her by worshiping the parts of her body that were decidedly female. Touches, kisses, caresses, some soft, some more aggressive, more heated. All awarded by mutual sounds of appreciation. Eventually, he ordered her to straddle him on the barstool. "C'mere, Bones. Climb on my lap and take me inside you. I want to feel you surround me."
"The stool's too tall. There's nowhere for my legs, no way for me to get any leverage."
"I know," he smiled daringly. "You'll just have to trust me and rely on my big, manly muscles to take care of you."
She did.
And, he did.
As they came down from their high, Booth wrapped his arms around her, keeping her naked body pressed close to his as he deliberately flexed the muscles she rested against in a shameless display of his manliness. "Blondie never stood a chance."
Brennan laughed. "No, not a chance. I love you, Booth."
A/N: Hope you enjoyed your holiday zombie, Faith. Reviews and comments are always appreciated.