A/N: A little bit of fluff to end the weekend---Susan

Blood on a Parasol

Chapter Ten

Susan H.

Booth released Luther. He and Brennan ate supper at a Mexican restaurant. At Brennan's door, Booth held her waist as she turned the lock. Brennan twisted her light switch until the lights glowed slightly brighter than candles.

"You have a new painting," Booth said as he looked at the image of a woman twirling in a swirl of leaves and flowers. It's wildness competed with the conservative décor surrounding it.

"Angie gave it to me. It's a print she made from a commissioned painting. I don't believe such freedom is attainable, but I enjoy looking at it."

Booth pulled her back against him and squeezed her.

"She's beautiful," he whispered against her ear.

Brennan closed her eyes and surrendered to Booth's rhythm as he swayed. She laid her hands on his and projected her mind into the painting. She breathed fresh air, and Booth dropped tiny kisses along her cheek and neck.

"Where are you?" he asked.

"In the painting."

Booth lifted her and slowly spun her. She rested her head back on his shoulder. He tickled her ear with his breath.

"What's happening now?"

"A breeze is blowing, and your kisses are flower petals dancing on my skin."

Booth chuckled and ended the spell.

"You're beautiful and surprising Temperance."

"So is Marisol," Brennan laughed.

Booth sat on the couch tugged her next to him. She curled her feet up beside her, and looped her arms around his neck. She loosened his tie and pressed her face into his neck, enjoying his scent.

She unbuttoned his shirt and worked her face to the back of his neck.

"MMM," Booth moaned, "you give me shivers, when you do that."

Brennan rubbed her face in the back of his hair, inhaling audibly. She slipped his tie over his head, and Booth took the opportunity to slide off his jacket. She pushed her face inside his shirt and against his chest.

"Bones, this is what you did when you lost your memory. I think about it all the time."

"In your fantasies?"

"Yes."

"It isn't fantasy now. You don't have to make me stop." Her eyelashes tickled his chest. She continued unbuttoning his shirt and slid her face along his exposed flesh. She pulled the crisp shirttail from his waistband. She crawled on his lap and faced him as she released the last three buttons.

"Booth?"

"Hmm?" Booth answered from across the universe.

"Do you think our sex life will ever become ordinary?"

"I don't care, and I won't care as long as you love me."

"Have you figured out reason number three that makes you believe I love you?"

"Well, let's review," he said as he caressed the tops of her thighs.

"Reason # 1, you got me a glass of water when we were both too tired to move.

"Reason #2, you reached back in time and comforted me as a young soldier.

"Reason #3, you didn't allow me to blame myself for this mess I made. You even defended me to Thomas' mother."

"And these reasons satisfy you?"

"No. You satisfy me. These reasons are simple logic for your sake."

Brennan pushed Booth's shirt of his shoulders and helped him release his arms. She ran her hands freely over his warm flesh. She watched tiny bumps rise and fall in response to her touch.

"It's just a release of endorphins and serotonin in the brain you know."

"Oh, I love it when you talk dirty to me," Booth smiled.

"Booth, aren't you concerned that the illusion of love is a chemical, biological reaction?"

"Is fire a chemical reaction?"

"Yes."

"It keeps me warm. It cooks my food. It provides light. It sustains life. It sets a romantic mood. No, I'm not concerned. It accomplishes the job. Am I right Bones?"

"You are correct."

"I believe science should enrich our lives, not break it down into unimportant chemical reactions. You enrich my life. Do I enrich yours?"

"I concede the point for the moment."

"For the moment?"

"I'd rather discuss other things for now." She nibbled his shoulder. He undid her buttons, and slid her blouse off her shoulders. He plucked a daisy from a vase on the side table, and grazed it over her skin. He ran it up her neck to her ear. He held the flower in front of her face.

"Photosynthesis, a chemical reaction, rendered this beautiful flower." He rubbed it along her throat, and down her chest. The daisy skimmed the lace that trimmed her bra. Booth tucked the flower behind her ear.

"MMM, photosynthesis, now you're talking sexy to me," Brennan smiled and ran her tongue along the horizontal plane of his shoulder. He cradled her cheeks in his hands and stared in her eyes. He brushed his lips against hers. He brushed them along jaw and around her ear. She marveled that those soft lips grew out of such a hard body.

His breath roared in her ear. He drew her lobe into his mouth and suckled it. His finger tips skimmed her spine. She squeezed his shoulders as his mouth and tongue choreographed a complicated dance to her throat.

He pulled her against his chest and turned both of their bodies until he could lay her on the couch, underneath him. Velvety lips pressed against her mouth; thick fabric pressed against her back. She explored and tasted the inside of his mouth. She pulled his bottom lip softly with her teeth, and his stomach jumped against hers as he sharply exhaled.

She tangled her fingers in his hair and arched against him. He deepened the kiss and chased her tongue. He stood up, never breaking the kiss, scooped her up and carried her to the bedroom.