A/N: Didn't get to the hotel hijinks yet. Sorry. Watch for them in the next chapter, (that's a promise), along with another carefree activity in a similarly playful vein to kite flying. Thanks so much for all the kind feedback and PMs. They mean a lot to me.
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Booth perched on the edge of the driver's seat and tipped his tennis shoes over, dislodging a couple tablespoons of fine sand. On her side, Brennan pulled her socks off. Intended for sweat-wicking, the fabric had instead done its duty by absorbing at least a cupful of Atlantic waters, some of which she now sent flooding across the parking lot with a brisk tap against each sole. She wiggled her bare toes and worked free several small pebbles, oblivious to Booth's appreciative stare.
Sun reflecting off the ocean, even in the early morning, had given her the beginnings of a tan which made her blue eyes even more vivid. Her waterlogged clothes left little to Booth's imagination, which already had plenty of practice in picturing Brennan undressed. She reached back to wring her long hair out and the comfortable, practiced motion somehow made him want her even more.
He cleared his throat and tried to sound normal. "Towel's in the back, if you want."
She hopped out, barefoot, and disappeared towards the trunk. Booth noticed a piece of lined paper that had fallen onto the car mat on Brennan's side, beside her purse and just shy of a puddle. Reaching over, he shook the paper free of sand and unfolded it. Four carefully drawn vertical columns greeted his eyes, written in Brennan's familiar handwriting.
Travel. Career. Relationships. Misc.
Baffled, Booth skimmed just the beginnings of each extensive column. Some items were marked off.
Travel
Pyongyang
Dragon's Blood Tree
Western Mali/The Dogon
Antarctica
Career
Thesis on PaleoIndian migration
Grant to study newly unearthed Machu Picchu graves
New Amazon Urbanism expedition
Assist Angela in finalizing the patent for the Angelator
Catalog 3000+ remains from 'limbo'
Relationships.
Have a child.
Take a trip with Max.
Be a better friend.
Sleep with Booth.
He didn't make it to the misc. column. His eyes fixated on Relationships, going over and over the third item. Booth's current contented state of mind swirled down an unexpected drain as he realized what he was reading.
A towel landed in his lap. He looked up, shaken, and found Brennan climbing back into her seat.
"You should dry off before we get to the hotel. We are unlikely to get reservations in our present bedraggled state," she said practically.
"We already have reservations." Booth stared down at the paper and back at Brennan, praying there was some other kind of explanation, but knowing full well there wouldn't be. "What is this?" He held the list out to her.
She took it and skimmed it, as he had done. "Where did you get this?" she asked finally, looking back up at him with a frown.
He gestured at the floor. "It probably fell out of your bag. I thought it might be a receipt or something that I dropped." Booth stared at her. "Bones, tell me that's not what I think it is."
"I have no way of knowing what you think it is." She refolded the paper and slid it back into her purse. "It's a Bucket List."
He rocked back in his seat angrily. "Bones, how the hell do you even know what that is?"
"Angela and I watched the movie several years ago." Brennan buckled her seatbelt. "In spite of my previous comment, I believe I can make an educated guess as to what you are presently thinking. You are incorrect."
"Why don't you tell me what I'm thinking then?" Booth slapped the steering wheel with the flat of his hand, feeling strangely betrayed. "Tell me how making a list of everything you want to do before you die, just before you find out whether or not you have breast cancer, isn't what it seems."
"I made the list at the time I watched the movie. Angela suggested we do it as a kind of bonding activity." She looked out her window. "In the years since, I've added to it, but the list was not created for the express purpose you are suggesting."
At the risk of violating her personal space, he reached over and grabbed her shoulder. "Bones."
Slowly, Brennan turned back to him, her eyes shuttered. In spite of her proximity, she suddenly looked so far away that it scared him.
He resisted the urge to back down, as he had done so many times in the face of her intense need for privacy. "Why'd you bring it on our trip?"
"I thought perhaps we might … I might …" Unusually, she stumbled over her words. "I thought I might be able to cross something off."
"You mean sleeping with me," Booth said flatly, crossing his arms across his chest.
"You suggested we would have intercourse." She looked bewildered. "Why are you angry at me?"
"Because …" now it was his turn to struggle for words. "I want this weekend to be something more than just an item on your death list. You said you wanted to live, and that just contradicts everything." He knew that would sound nonsensical to her, and ended with a frustrated, "Y'know?" even though she definitely wouldn't. Before she could say anything, he went on, "I just—I don't want you quitting before you even start fighting. That's not who you are, Bones. The squint who defied the FBI and a serial killer to pull me off a ship marked for the bottom of the ocean is not someone who lives her life by some kind of morbid checklist."
"I like lists. I find crossing off each item satisfactory."
"That might be true for groceries or scientific mumbo jumbo, but not for life." Seeing the blank look still in place, he tried again. "Bones, I got nothing against you having dreams. I've got my own mental list of things I want to do before the final curtain drops. It's just—with the whole diagnosis thing—" He shook his head, trying to clear it of the hornets buzzing within. "You don't even know yet. Can't you just wait till you at least find out before breaking out the list?"
Something that might have been comprehension finally flickered across Brennan's face. "You don't want to believe that I may have to fulfill some of these dreams sooner rather than later, if I expect to accomplish them before succumbing to disease."
The fact that she actually got it for a change didn't make him feel any better. "I don't want to think about you dying at all."
"We're all going to die, Booth," she said, but her voice was soft, rather than squintish. "However, my diagnosis may very well turn out to have no effect on my lifespan whatsoever. If the list disturbs you so much, I won't refer it to today, even if we do have sex." A hint of a smile hovered at the corners of her lips. "Is that still in your plans for our impromptu getaway?"
It was a lousy attempt at subtly redirecting the conversation, but he caved in and went with it anyway. He started the engine and tried for a casual comment of his own.
"The surf and turf look works on you, Bones."
"Seafood and steak?" she asked quizzically, finger-combing her hair and creating tiny salt ringlets around her face in the process.
"Beach babe," Booth clarified, although comparing her to one of his favorite meals wasn't altogether inappropriate. He had a sudden desire to have her for breakfast, instead of the steak and eggs he'd previously been imagining.
"Ah." Brennan nodded sagely. "You mean that you find my currently bedraggled state arousing."
"You think?" he muttered under his breath before reaching over to plant a kiss on her unsuspecting lips. Before she could respond—and before he could flat out lose it and drag her into the backseat on top of him—Booth retreated and started the car engine. His body thrummed with frustrated need.
She turned sideways to look at him as Booth backed out of his parking spot. "I enjoy kissing you."
He chuckled at her usual blunt honesty. "You're pretty good yourself."
"You have excellent oral dexterity," she continued. "Many of my previous sexual partners lacked your facility with—"
"I'll add that to my resume," he interrupted with a nervous chuckle. His self-control was perilously frayed, and comments like that wouldn't get them far down the road.
"I'm looking forward to experiencing your mouth in places besides—"
"WHOA!" Booth's mind turned a dark, hungry shade of red. "I'm driving here, Bones." He made the mistake of looking over at her as he spoke and discovered the same hunger mirrored in her eyes.
"Drive faster, then."
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