Title: Learning Curves
Rating: Still a T. Apparently, Booth has excellent *ahem* control.
Summary: Brennan has always insisted that she had a steep learning curve - but does that apply to dating Booth? Spoilers for Season 6 and much speculation as well.
Disclaimer: I don't own Bones. I wish I did, but I don't. It belongs to Hart Hanson, FOX, and various affiliates.
Author's Notes: I apologize for the delay in this chapter. I've been battling the flu for the past couple of days, so instead of writing, I've been holed up in bed with sheets of tissue, Panadol, and Vitamin C for company. Also, my boss has been away for the past week, so I've been doing double the work (without double the pay, LOL). But here's a bright, shiny new chapter for you that hopefully makes up for things.
Also, again: a massive THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU to everyone who commented, gave positive reviews, and put this story on alert. I appreciate your encouragement. You guys are the reason that I write. :) Aside from awesome sexytiemz with Booth and Brennan, of course.
It was a picture-perfect spring day. Trees rustled in the quiescent breeze. A scattering of birds soared in formation across the bright blue sky. Clouds scuttled across the horizon, white cotton-candy wisps that were scattered by an errant breeze. On the steps of the Jeffersonian's Medico-Legal lab, the forensics team lounged on the steps, enjoying a quiet lunch break. Angela sat beside Hodgins, sharing a baguette, some shaved prosciutto, and Gruyere from a paper bag. The couple traded a split of burgundy, still cold from having been stored in Hodgins' freezing unit in the Ooky Room.
Cam sat a little bit above the married couple, her designer sunglasses perched on top of her head, slowly chewing through a turkey sandwich from the cafeteria at the museum. Beside her, Brennan dug into her salad with relish, enjoying the crisp texture of the lettuce leaves alongside the sweet mandarin wedges sprinkled amidst the greenery. Unlike the constant hum of noise and conversation in the lab, out in the sprawling gardens of the Jeffersonian, there was nothing to remind them that their jobs dealt with death - not in the face of so much life unfurling right before their eyes.
A lone man, dressed in black, walked across the gardens like a mirage, a shadow rising from the mists. His hands were in his pockets, his tie streaming behind him like a pennant, a banner calling them to arms. As he approached the team, he slid off his sunglasses and surveyed them quietly. Even the wind dropped. Trees stopped the rustle of their branches. Only a single caw from a distant crow was brave enough to break the silence.
It was his girlfriend who broke the mood. "Do you want a mandarin, Booth?" she asked, the piece of fruit speared on her plastic fork.
He shrugged and grinned. "Sure, why not?"
The team shot him surreptitious glances as he took the fork from Brennan and slowly bit into the bright orange wedge. They had no idea what happened between the two of them ever since Booth took Brennan out for breakfast a week past, but it didn't escape the three pairs of eyes that something had shifted - subtly, almost unnoticeable, but it was there. That movement in a forward direction, the slow tipping of a spinning top as it succumbed to gravity. There were certainly more lingering glances - over the mangled remains on the forensics platform, the pieces of a Civil War soldier anatomically laid out on the table in the Bone Room, even as they discussed a case with Cam in autopsy. There were more touches - a guiding hand to the elbow, a protective palm to the small of the back, fingers slowly running down the exposed skin at the back of the neck. And they weren't shy about it. It seemed as though they relished the audience, oblivious to the curious gazes of their colleagues.
"So what brings you here, Seeley?" Cam asked, taking a long drink of her Evian. "Case?"
He gave her a disarming smile. "I just wanted to see my friends, Camille. Nothing wrong with that."
"You mean you wanted to see Dr. Brennan," she teased, a glint in her dark eyes.
"Yeah, dude," chimed in Hodgins. "Usually you want to wring our necks whenever you see us."
"I'm fairly certain Booth can't wring my neck," added Angela, grinning. "Brennan would kill him if he tried, right, sweetie?"
"Hmm?" The forensic anthropologist glanced at her best friend. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"
"Cat got your tongue, Bones?" asked Booth.
"I'm fairly certain that that if a domestic feline ever got a hold of the primary organ for mastication, it would eat it, because cats are scavengers. However, since there are not stray cats allowed on the Jeffersonian grounds, I can inform you with certainty that they did not get my tongue, nor any other tongue."
"Ew," muttered Angela, picking off a sliver of pale pink prosciutto from her baguette and giving it to her husband. "Not while I'm eating lunch, Bren."
"So have you thought about it, Bones?" asked Booth, trying to steer the conversation away from any talk about masticated body parts and scavenging domestic animals.
"I must admit it sounds like an interesting idea. But I'm not sure I can just abandon my responsibilities to the lab at a moment's notice," she said thoughtfully, chewing on a piece of lettuce.
"And what is this about this time?" asked Cam, quirking an eyebrow curiously.
"Oh," she said, turning to her boss, "my publisher wants me to go on a one-week book tour to promote my book. It will be in New York, so I would be required to fly out. However, I informed them it would be ill-advised to leave DC as of the moment, given that our work is quite important."
"Apparently, Bones here thinks that murderers won't be able to leave us alone for a week," added Booth, leaning back on his elbows and admiring the graceful curve of his partner's neck.
"Nice use of the pronoun there," commented Hodgins with a knowing smirk. Booth glared at the entomologist before nudging his partner.
"Well, you do have quite a lot of accumulated vacation days, Dr. Brennan," said Cam slowly. She might not be a mind reader, but she had a feeling she knew where Booth was headed with this. The man might do subtle passably well, but she'd known him since they were teenagers, and knew that look in his eyes when he was planning something. Oh well, Brennan deserves it anyway. "You are aware, of course, that it's mandatory that you finish out those vacation days before July, yes?" Totally making that one up, Cam. She squashed the little voice in her head, trying to inject as much administrative bravado in her words.
"See, Bones! You need to take a vacation."
"Technically, it wouldn't be a vacation, Booth. I will still be working, albeit in a different manner." She huffed and raked a hand through her auburn waves. "I do not like publicizing my books, at any rate. I would prefer talking about my real work. The Maluku Islands discoveries are far more important than whether or not Kathy and Andy are currently having intercourse."
"Yes sweetie, but let's face it: you enjoy writing those books," teased Angela. "It lets you release all that pent-up tension you have."
Brennan rolled her eyes at Angela's implications. She snuck a glance at Booth, who seemed to be enjoying the quiet afternoon and held no interest in their discussion.
"Anyway, Dr. Brennan, I strongly suggest you take this opportunity to go on this book tour," encouraged Cam. "That way, you won't be wasting your vacation days and I won't have to deal with a mountain of paperwork in triplicate. And if anything comes up, we'll be sure to let you know, but in the meantime, I'm certain that Dr. Edison will be more than capable in handling the Limbo cases right now."
"All right." Brennan finished the last of her salad and stood up, dusting the seat of her jeans. "Perhaps we should go back to the lab? If I am to take part on this book tour, I should probably finish the paperwork on our last case." She nudged Booth's leg with the tip of her boot. "Are you coming?"
He sprang up from the steps and gave her a grin that, if she was being honest to herself, made her knees weak and her heart pump faster. "All right! Come on then, girlfriend mine, let's get on with our paperwork." And with that, the partners climbed up the steps towards the Jeffersonian, leaving three incredibly baffled people in their wake.
Girlfriend?
It was approaching seven in the evening when Brennan fired off her last email of the day, stretched her neck experimentally to work out the kinks, and shucked off her lab coat. Booth had departed earlier, with a kiss on her lips and a promise of dinner, and she wanted to make it back to his apartment before he finished up all the spring rolls and Yuengling.
Only to be stopped in her tracks, en route to the sliding glass doors of the Medico-Legal lab, by her three friends. Angela had her arms crossed over her chest, her lips pursed in irritation. Hodgins looked amused, as though he was looking forward to the ensuing fireworks. Cam was wearing a not-so-secretly amused smile, her dimples making her look younger than she really was.
"Girlfriend?" asked Angela.
"I'm sorry, which part of that was unclear?" Brennan knew this was coming, was perfectly aware that Booth was preparing to slip that one past their friends, but she still felt as though she didn't want to share this lovely, private thing between them. Still, like a bandage on a wound, it was best to just rip it off and get it over and done with. "I believe that, according to social conventions, when two people are prepared to enter in a monogamous romantic relationship, they refer to each other by such titles. Of course, I find them juvenile and inaccurate, but they seem to best encompass my current status with Booth. Are there any more questions?"
"Not at all, Dr. B," said Hodgins as Angela sputtered like a volcano running out of steam. He reached out and pulled his wife towards him, steering her back into her office as she attempted to form coherent words.
"Congratulations," said Cam with a wide smile, as she and Brennan watched Hodgins take Angela away. "Glad to know you've finally done it."
"Oh no," said Brennan, sauntering away. "We've not had sexual intercourse yet." She walked past the doors of the lab and sailed off to the parking lot, her dark hair bouncing as she exited.
"Of course," sighed Cam. "That was exactly what I wanted to know."
"Is it always going to be like this?" asked Brennan as she curled up beside Booth on his couch, the remnants of Chinese takeaway littering his coffee table, amidst sports magazines and scattered bills.
"Always like what?" He reached out and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer for a kiss. She tasted of spring onions and sesame oil and sweetness, which made him smile against her lips.
"Like this." She gestured to the two of them. "Domestic. Quiet. Comfortable."
"Why do you ask?"
"I'd like to be prepared."
"For?"
She shrugged as she settled easily against him. "Inevitabilities."
"Hey. Bones." His voice was soft, rumbling in his chest. "Talk to me. What's on your mind?"
"It's nothing, Booth." She gestured to the TV set in front of them. "Do you want to watch something? I've noticed that in a lot of popular culture, many meals are usually associated with this activity."
Booth slowly nudged her downwards on the couch, so that they were lying on their sides, heads supported by the armrest, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist. He nuzzled the slope of her neck, his lips pressing tender kisses against the pale, soft flesh. "Babe," he whispered, "stop stalling. What's going on?"
She attempted to be irritated at his manhandling of her; instead, she felt a comforting warmth bloom inside her, coupled with the low ache of desire coursing in her center as he insinuated his thigh between her legs, applying just enough pressure to maintain the need she could feel running through her veins. "I'm just... I've never felt like this before," she confessed, angling her face in a wordless request for a kiss. "And a part of me is frightened. What if we're only like this in the beginning? What if we start fighting, start hating each other. Our fundamental views on life are so different - we're such different people, Booth. What if we start taking each other for granted?"
She felt him tighten his embrace around her, felt him bury his nose into the dark forest of her hair. "Do you really think that will happen, Bones? Deep down inside, do you really think that will happen?"
"Sometimes. There's no certainty in the future."
"So let's just take the present as it is. We're not doing anything we haven't done in the past six years, you know."
"Except for the kissing part."
"Mmmhmm." He planted a kiss on the tip of her nose. "That's the best kind of change, baby."
"And the making love part. Which we haven't really gotten to yet."
"All in good time, Bones. All in good time."
She settled against his bulk, enjoying the feel of his body behind hers. He planted kisses along the exposed flesh of her neck, the curve of her shoulder, the proud arch of her jaw. The hand around her waist slipped underneath the hem of her shirt, caressing the bare skin of her stomach, dipping briefly into her belly button before meandering across the expanse of her belly. She pressed against him, feeling the throb of his erection against the thin fabric of her pants. "Is tonight a good time?" she asked huskily, looking at Booth through half-lidded eyes.
"Bones," he groaned, grabbing her hips and pulling her flush against him. "Feel that? That's what I've been controlling for the past six years. Seven, if you count that year we were apart after our first case." He nipped the soft lobe of her ear, feeling her writhe against him, a low moan escaping her pink-kissed lips. "You do that to me all the time, Bones. All the fucking time. And if I've managed to maintain that for years, babe, do you really think that we are going to change who we are to each other?"
She gasped as he pressed himself against the half-moon curve of her ass, bucking once to alleviate the building pressure. "No... ah, you're such a tease, Booth... I want..."
"That's right, Bones, you want. For once, you're actually giving in to what you want, and what I want, and when I'm inside you, I swear, babe, you'll be seeing stars."
"Cocky words, Booth." She grinned up at him. "Care to prove your belt buckle was right all along?"
He attempted to maintain his control over his libido - he'd never come in his pants after high school, and he damn well won't be doing that now. If anything, he'd only do it buck naked and with Bones writhing underneath him, a gorgeous hellcat in lace (or leather), sheathed fully inside her body."Bones... not tonight. I told you. I want to court you."
She rolled her eyes. "Why did I even agree to that in the first place? It's antiquated and only asserts the injustices and unfairness of a patriarchal society."
"Or maybe - and here's a novel thought, Bones - it's because I actually want to show you that I'm playing for keeps. That you and me, we're not going to change just because we've seen each other naked - "
"I have, actually, seen you naked."
" - and that whatever happens, I will love you." Booth looked into her sparkling blue eyes. "Really, that's what you want to latch on to? That you've seen me naked?"
"It was very impressive, Bones."
"Oh really now?"
"Yes. I find that I am irrationally attracted to your choice of bathroom reading material."
"Ha ha, very funny, Bones." His erection had settled down to a manageable state, and he luxuriated in the comfort of his partner in his arms.
"I told you, Booth, I've learned to be amusing." She elbowed him. "You should learn to laugh at my jokes now."
"I'll pick up a book tomorrow, okay? A Dummy's Guide to Laughing at Bones' Jokes. How's that?"
"Speaking of books, Booth," she said, twisting around so that her head was cradled on his bicep, their legs tangled around each other's, "I'd like you to come with me on the book tour."
"Wait, you want me to come?"
"Well, yes." She squeezed his arm, the one that was currently taking on residence across her stomach. "I thought since you're my boyfriend now, you'd want to go on an out-of-town trip with me."
"Hmm. Not sure if my wallet can handle a trip to New York on a whim right now, Bones. I just paid my share of Parker's tuition, not to mention the soccer sports camp..."
"That won't be a problem, Booth. My publisher's given me a very generous allowance for agreeing to do this book tour. I suspect they were quite pleased I said yes."
"Bones! Part of courting you is actually paying for stuff, you know."
"Would it offend your alpha-male sensibilities if I paid for this trip and you can pay for whatever we do in New York City that has nothing to do with the book tour? I suspect you'll want to take me to a nice restaurant, or to a Broadway show, or a carriage ride in Central Park... these are acceptable romantic overtures for courtship, isn't it?"
Booth laughed and hugged her. "Yes, Bones. God, even though you make dating sound so squinty, I still find it sexy."
"I told you," she said, reaching to tangle her fingers in his hair and pull him down for a kiss, "I learn very fast."
"Very fast indeed," he whispered, losing himself into her kiss.
Eric was only on his second week with his new company when he learned that he was assigned to be Temperance Brennan's assistant. The Temperance Brennan, famous forensic anthropologist who had recently returned from the Maluku Islands with more knowledge about the missing link between humans and... well, whatever came before humans. She single-handedly took over the New York Times Bestseller List with her latest book, and he was in charge of making sure that she and her guest (Matilda was very clear that Dr. Brennan was coming with a guest - office gossip confirmed that he was the real-life inspiration behind the delicious FBI Agent Andy Lister) were comfortable in their hotel, and were on time for their appointments. It was the usual tour, as far as he understood it: hitting Borders and a few of the independent booksellers around the city, dropping by the New School over at Greenwich Village for a reading and round-table discussion, and a publishers' dinner at The Plaza.
And so he met the dark-haired anthropologist at the airport with sweaty palms and the general hope that he wouldn't pee in his pants. Beside him, the uniformed chauffeur stood impassively, the cardboard sign in his hands reading "Brennan & Co."
They were the last to disembark from the plane. She looked exactly the same as the back of her novels' dust jacket - maybe a bit more slender, definitely more tanned, and with a different hair style that made her look younger and, consequently, more alluring. Beside her walked a handsome man with broad shoulders and warm brown eyes, pushing their luggage-laden trolley past airport security. Both of them were dressed casually for New York City - she was wearing tight jeans that showed off her long legs, a wine-colored button down dress shirt that did nothing to hide her curves, and calf-length black boots. He was in a green Army jacket, a black-and-white U2 t-shirt, and sneakers. Eric gulped. He didn't expect them to look like they stepped out of the pages of a magazine.
It was the man who first spotted the sign, and nudged Brennan in their direction. Eric managed to keep his voice from trembling, and he was torn between dropping to his knees and worshipping at the temple of Temperance Brennan, or fleeing for his life at the glare that was sent his way by Agent Booth. (Seeley Booth, he remembered fleetingly, for whom her second novel was dedicated to.) Still, he was proud for keeping his cool - he managed to instruct the chauffeur to handle their baggage, led them to the parking lot and into the limo the publishing company had hired for their star author.
"Sweet," complimented Agent Booth, running his hand across the plush seats and stretching his long legs. Champagne was served, a toast was made, and the itinerary discussed as the car wound its way towards downtown Manhattan. They were booked at the Chelsea Hotel; Booth started humming the Joni Mitchell song as Eric briefed Brennan about the book tour schedule. He was happy that his voice did not rise above its normal octave level, and that his sweaty fingers didn't leave marks on the printed-out itinerary sheet.
Once they were booked and settled into their suite, Eric breathed a sigh of relief. Now, if only the rest of the week proved to be as smooth-sailing as the afternoon, he might actually survive.
A/N: I know, I know - I promised the second date, but somehow, this thing kinda took on a life of its own and I can't. Seem. To. Make. It. Stop. Anyway, not to worry. The second date - and the second item Booth will be returning - is on its way. Any guesses?
Yes, of course, it has something to do with books. ;)
As usual, comments, reviews, and even suggestions for future dates are most definitely welcome. Like I said, your lovely reviews are the fuel to my fire, so keep 'em coming!
