The Perfect Path in the Pie
Chapter 10 - River Deep, Mountain High
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Disclaimer: I do not own BONES. I also do not own 'River Deep, Mountain High', by Ike and Tina Turner.
A/N: I'm still writing this thing...amazing. Apologies if this is light on the case, please direct all complaints about being my being distracted to a PWP chapter to NatesMama. This chapter is hanging onto it's T rating by the skin of Booth's **** - you have been warned.
Thursday, March 17th 2011 - Chicago, Illinois. Feast of Saint Patrick or "St. Paddy's Day" (8th Day of Lent)
"Happy Saint Paddy's Day to yer, Bones!" exclaimed a voice which sounded suspiciously like the love-child of Seeley Booth and a Leprechaun.
"Ugh! Booth, make it stop...shoot it," moaned Brennan, sprawled like a rag-doll over a pile of pillows on her stomach. "I'll do anything..."
A slightly more Boothy voice, still tinged with a Southern Irish lilt murmured next her ear. "Anyt'ing?"
"Provided it doesn't involve, moving, thinking, opening my eyes...or, urgh!...using my head in any way..." replied Brennan in a low voice, trying not to move her mouth too much when she spoke.
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Booth smiled and rubbed a hand up and down her back. "You overdid the Champagne last night, Bones. Take these magic pills, take a sip of this water, and go back to sleep for an hour, then we'll have a nice greasy breakfast before we go to the field office."
"Fine. Give me the pills, I'll have a shower and drink a quart of coffee," she mumbled, pulling a hand out from under her pillow and holding it out. The pills were placed in her palm and she placed them in her mouth, then allowed Booth to place the straw at her lips, she took a couple of sips and winced as she swallowed.
"Come back to bed," she murmured.
"Geez, bossy when you're hung over much?" laughed Booth.
"Not so loud...please..." winced Brennan. She felt the bed dip beside her and a warm body provided instant relief to her all over ache, soothing her back to sleep.
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Booth awoke with a start ninety minutes later. The space next to him on the King-Size bed was empty in the darkened room.
"Crap, wha-time-isit?" he grumbled, fumbling for his cell-phone.
"Seven a.m." replied a surprisingly cheery voice from the doorway.
"Bones?" said Booth, puzzled.
"Were you expecting someone else?" she asked.
"You couldn't even open your eyes a couple of hours ago...!" he said in amazement. "Who are you, you gorgeous creature? And what did you do with the Champagne lush that I dozed off with?" he asked.
She gave a dangerous chuckle as she stepped into the dim room, twisting the knob on the dimmer to bring the level of light up to the point that he could see her eyes, dark with focused intent. Seeley Booth was a set of bones, and Bones was clearly planning on jumping them. Angela would be proud. "Modern pharmaceuticals, rehydration with a large bottle of water, a cup of black coffee...Do you remember what you promised me last night over dessert, Booth?"
"I wasn't the one who fell asleep in the elevator last night, so yeah, I remember..." he replied. Her final words before lapsing into a Cristal-induced stupor had been of her intention to break the Laws of Physics with him since the Laws of Nature were no longer an issue. She'd asked if he loved her, if he wanted to prove it...and admitted she'd been the one who wrote the words, who spoke the words at his bedside; the words that had hounded him during his recovery from brain surgery. Then that Iceland comment in the media room, when he'd mentioned throwing himself into her volcano...Bones had been ready on some level since he had agreed, then reneged on the sperm donor thing. She'd given him time to recover and somehow missed yet another moment along the way.
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She climbed onto the bed and crawled over him, the split in her silk robe revealing a great deal of naked flesh. "Are you going to make me wait?" she asked, her hands pushing up his T-shirt.
"But we have work to..." he began, knowing his words were empty, it was part of the game they played. This was about sex, but it was also about taking that final step away from the crazy carousel they'd been riding for too damned long
Brennan gave a sultry laugh and began nibbling enthusiastically at his abdominals. "No we don't...Not until ten... Perotta just sent a text message saying the night team arranged an early morning raid and made six arrests." She lifted up her head and pinned him with a look that made him freeze, well almost all of him froze; he cursed his betraying manhood for enacting defection plans the moment she had given that laugh.
"Perotta advised us that we should check out from our hotel, and then come directly to the field office, by which time, the suspects should be processed. We'll have to head directly to the airport around five to make our flight back to D.C. I sent her a message to say that you would benefit from an extra couple of hours in bed," she explained.
"Right...not sleeping, I'm guessing," he said, suppressing a surprised grunt as she answered by placing his hips in a vice between her long strong legs and ground down against him in frustration. She said nothing, just gave him that same honest stare that she had given him in the elevator last night, the same one from the SUV on that night of torrential rain and emotions.
He should have known that a skin full of Cristal wouldn't have affected her recall in any way. It was his move. He heard Gordon Gordon Wyatt's voice telling him to grow a set; recalled Stewie Griffin telling him to do the same, and to make a direct deposit while he was at it. Those messages from the Universe over the years had been transmitting for them both. They had shown faith in each other; both had spent some time waiting like faithful puppies for each other when life got in their way. Chances had been thrown out there and swept away into fast flowing rivers. Moments had been crushed by mountains of their own making.
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He felt her hand gently touch his face. "Booth?" she asked, brushing a tear away from her cheekbone roughly with the back of her other hand. "I'm pushing you...I'm sorry...you need...," she broke off, releasing him and throwing herself back onto the bed with an exasperated noise.
Brennan suddenly found herself pinned underneath him from the waist down, as he rolled after her, his elbows supporting the weight of his upper body. "I'll tell you what I need, Temperance. I need to love you. I need to prove it to you, every day...twice a day if you'll let me...and I don't think I'll ever get tired of it...'cause I got my message too."
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The ensuing kiss was a dizzying distraction as he fumbled with the loose tie of her robe and she made fast work of his boxer shorts, with the T-shirt being dragged off and tossed away in the space of a couple of short breaths as they wriggled against each other impatiently. The physical heat between them was incredible, as they allowed themselves to pass the barriers that they had put in place over the past week, obliterating lines all the way back to when she'd first brazenly suggested that they could have sex. He groaned into her mouth as he felt the hot wet caress of lips dragging along his sensitive skin and she answered as their passionate stars finally aligned.
His arm slipped under her back, along her waistline, his hand coming to rest in the familiar spot that he had used to guide her along with for years. Her legs wrapped around his waist to provide a little guidance of her own. Breaking the kiss to focus on more important matters, she breathed out to let him in.
"I feel drunk again," she said as he pushed.
"Brain chemistry..." he breathed as she flexed her back and pulled him closer.
"Love," she exhaled as twin burning cores of fire ignited into a single surreal inferno of sensation, allowing herself to ride the trail to Lady goo at a steady trot, delighting in every moment of friction, waiting for the moment when he would lose control and gallop for home, when she could just hang on for dear life. A small but powerful climax gripped her as their pubic bones crushed together and she laughed breathlessly knowing that it was the beginning, not the end. Watching her pupils dilate and then reconstrict with renewed focus; he knew too. Hanging around third base for a few days had shown him that she was capable of control and abandonment at will; citing something squinty about the power of the mind.
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It took a little longer than either of them expected, both of them putting aside their natural antagonism to extend words, gestures and touches of reassurance; wanting to make this first moment right after all that had gone wrong between them. She told him, ever the feminist, ever the scientist, that she wanted to watch him lose control. Considerate of both her needs, and the screaming build up of jangling tension in his nerve endings, culminating in that sweet humming pressure signaling the point of no return; he let go. His eyes wide open, watching hers until her they were torn away; rolling toward the ceiling as her back arched and her legs clenched and spasmed around him. Their incandescent fires quenched, for the time being, in the deep cool waters of release.
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Somehow, they made it through the rest of the day. The evidence of the new addition to the precious list of things that were just theirs was there for others to see, not that anyone was looking. Their glances were a little warmer, their touches lingered a touch longer, their smiles were bordering on 'just kiss me', rather than 'just partners'; particularly after Booth threatened a perp for eyeing the curves of his partner when she stood to leave the interrogation room.
When they left the field office and headed out into the St. Patrick's Day madness as the day ended, heading with their bags to their car, she'd stopped to watch the throng of Irish blooded and Irish wannabes whooping and singing their way down the street. Turning to Booth, she said with a laugh, "Kiss me, I'm Irish!"
"So y'are, Docta Brennan! C'mere and lay those luscious lips on me," replied Booth, in his best Irish accent, which was only marginally better than his singing voice. The passionate clinch of the apparently strait-laced couple in suits caused the drunken revelers to cheer them on.
Brennan broke off the kiss with another laugh. "Come on, let's get out of here before we're mobbed and plied with green beer."
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Barely managing to resist the temptation to join the Mile High Club on the flight on the way home, they'd settled for a snooze and some quiet canoodling until they finally reached the sanctuary of the large antique bed at Booth's apartment. Pausing only to rip each other's clothes off, they explored the old and the new between them, as 'just lovers'.
A/N: Okay...backing away from the smut. Let me know if I should make a New Year's resolution on this...