The Perfect Path in the Pie
Chapter 13 - Hold Me
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Disclaimer: I do not own BONES. I also do not own 'Hold Me', by Fleetwood Mac
A/N: Wow, the second bonus chapter in this story, already! I've had some issues posting to the site, so sorry about the delay. This chapter is titled and themed after a song from one of my own playlists. I'd also like to thank pals reading who are Catholic, offering assistance with my sometimes ham fisted handling of the Lenten calendar, so thank you telling what I'm doing right & what is going to get me struck down (sorry, I have an irreverent streak that cannot be denied). A very special thank you goes out to Angiebc *hugs*
Sunday, March 20th 2011 - Washington D.C. (Second Sunday of Lent)
"Booth, you're going to have to help support my upper torso if this is going to work!" said Brennan.
"Hey, relax, I'm trying here Bones..." said Booth."Now where do you want my right hand again?"
"It's your left hand. Support me from behind and place your left hand on my right upper quadrant..." she gave a snort. "Nice try. That's my right breast. Lower. The right upper quadrant of my 'abdomen'...I know you passed science in High School."
"Yeah," he said dejectedly, moving his hand as directed. "But I met this totally hot teacher a few years ago...and I get distracted by her sexy squintyness."
"Hold still!" she hissed. "Right...there, the angle is perfect. Now all I have to do is push the button...Ahh! Hopefully the flash will enhance the image this time. I just need to move slightly to the left, just a couple more shots."
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"Do you have to photograph every square inch of it?" he asked.
"Yes. I want the reconstruction to be as accurate as possible," she said emphatically.
"That's a lot of inches, Bones...and I'm getting really distracted by you hanging over the edge of my bed with your ass in the air. Can I take a photo of that?," he asked, his left hand creeping back up to her right breast in what was promising to be a sensual game of Twister once she got what she needed.
"You may not," she said archly. "In order to avoid injury to your back by attempting to move the bed to take images of the post carvings, this was a practical alternative. And if you persist on your quest to manhandle me while I'm taking photographs, we will fail to complete what we started here. Hank was keen to discuss the history of this bed and I've asked a colleague at NYU to look at the style and patterns of wood carving, so that hopefully, I can give your grandfather some historical background from the time and place that it was constructed. The images can be reconstructed tomorrow at the Jeffersonian and they can be examined while we are away in New Orleans."
"Pops will be amazed that you've gone to all this trouble. It'll be like Antiques Roadshow. He loves that show!" Booth said enthusiastically.
"All done. You can let me go now," she said, shifting precariously in their slightly bizarre embrace.
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Booth pulled her body toward him a little tighter. "This is kind of fun...are you sure?" he asked next to her ear, before kissing her neck.
"You are scheduled to attend church in an hour, and I have forensic evidence from four New Orleans cases to review," she replied, untangling herself and placing the camera on the bedside drawers. Booth sat on the edge of the bed and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her on top of him, where she chuckled at his persistence.
"Which is why I'm telling you that I'm gonna kiss you goodbye now, Dr. Brennan," he said with a cocky grin.
"The circumstantial and physical evidence is 'telling me' that you want to remove my clothes and do significantly more than that," she said barely brushing her lips along his.
"Must you tease me with your squinty assessments of why I can't keep my hands off you? The spirit is willing; but the flesh is weak..." quoted Booth
"Spiritus quidem promptus; caro vero infirma," she said with a superior smile.
"You missed your calling, Bones," he laughed. "Sister Immaculata never taught Catechism class like this."
"I should hope not..." she replied, sliding her hands down to his hips, her fingers invading under the waistband of his sweatpants in response to the flash-flood of arousal that washed over her.
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Still semi-permanently drunk on the smell, sound and feel of Bones he wound his fingers into her messy ponytail and tugged it gently to pull her head down for a kiss. It started out lazy and unhurried, but soon their lips and tongues were bickering back and forth with the intensity of one of their displays during a session with Sweets. She lost patience with foreplay, trying and failing to control her response to the explorations of his hands; which seemed to be as unerringly accurate as his gut since he had started to learn what she liked. The man was a quick study and proving to be an excellent match, versatile enough to be her agonist or antagonist as required. Pushing herself up, straddling him, she proceeded to pull her shirt over her head.
"In a hurry there?" he asked with a cocky smile. "That's what the 'physical evidence' is telling me."
"I'd be happy to let you head off to church immediately, but you may have a small problem to contend with..." she said, glancing down with a smirk.
"A 'small' problem?" he said indignantly. "Way to wound a guy's ego, Bones!"
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Brennan poked him in the ribs, biting her lip as he squirmed underneath her. She leaned forward and he made a show of leering at her breasts in the white lacy bra she was still wearing.
"In the interest of full disclosure and the wellbeing of your fragile ego...we don't have much time..." she said, before placing her lips next his ear and whispering. "...and I need you, now."
He gave her a salute. "Yes, Ma'am! One Seeley Booth quickie, coming right up!"
She gave a squawk of surprise as he flipped her onto her back, dissolving into laughter as he made a show of synchronising their watches before fulfilling his promise.
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They had agreed to meet for a late lunch at the Diner. Booth turned up in his Sunday Best. Brennan was waiting for him, wearing a green wrap-around dress that she had impulsively pulled from the closet at her apartment, unsure whether she would actually wear it; but the afternoon had turned out to be unseasonably warm, making it a good choice.
The warm afternoon had somehow signaled the citizens of Washington D.C. to venture out into an early springtime, hence, the Diner was packed full of people enjoying a Sunday afternoon snack. Booth took a seat at the counter next to Brennan and frowned over in the direction of their usual table, leaning in, offering to badge the group sat there, to encourage them to move on. Brennan laughed at his alpha-maleness, placing an affectionate hand on his cheek and a fond kiss on his lips. The waitress bringing over fresh cups to serve their coffee dropped them in shock, and an exclamation of 'Holy Shit!' was heard from the kitchen. Directing a cocky grin at the short order cook, who was giving them a thumbs up through the kitchen hatch; Booth suggested that they order 'to go' and enjoy the sunshine, assuring Brennan that they would be able to find a park bench by either blind luck, or blatant badging.
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A bench in a quiet corner of the Jeffersonian gardens was the eventual site of their impromptu picnic. After two days of abstention from meat, Booth made up for lost time; his meal was completely devoid of vegetables. Brennan dug around in her bag for her sunglasses.
"Nice sunglasses, Bones!" said Booth, as she unwrapped a disgustingly healthy looking dark rye sandwich containing the antithesis of his own lunch.
"They are my second favourite pair..." she commented. "You don't want them, do you? Because I don't have a third favourite."
"Nah...I'm good," he replied. "They're a bit girly. Plus it's nice to squint in the bright sunlight for a change, winter dragged on forever this year."
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Brennan gave an eye roll at the hyperbole, but had a mouthful of her sandwich and stayed silent. Booth took a large bite of his messy meaty meal, which was deconstructing itself from the burger bun with a mind of its own. He leaned forward to avoid having a gooey piece of it ending up as a particulate on his good suit, it landed with a small splat on the paving. Brennan wordlessly handed him a napkin, which he used to wipe his chin.
"That tastes awesome," he said happily.
Brennan glanced down at the meaty dollop on ground near his feet. "You should pick that up before a small animal comes to harm through eating it."
"Hey, there's protein for some little critter who's survived winter here in D.C.," he countered.
"It's the associated fat and salt content that I'd be concerned about," she said with a grin, as she bit into her healthier option. Booth sipped noisily at his soda.
"So, Bones," he said, his tone assuming seriousness. "You've still got to tell me about your Kathy and Andy get married plot. And we've got to get our story straight for our session with Sweets tomorrow."
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Brennan glanced around to see if anyone else was in earshot.
"Seriously? You're worried about someone overhearing?" he asked.
"Yes." she said. "The information is proprietary; I could breach my contract with my publisher."
"It's going to be leaked to your unofficial fan page and the media in the next 48 hours," said Booth. "They won't care."
Brennan gave a patient sigh. "I will care, Booth. The spoiler information will be vague. We are discussing details...and right now, I don't have much faith in the media."
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"Okay, point taken," he said. A smile grew on his face and his eyes lit up with an idea. "Maybe we should talk about Kathy and Andy, but call them by some kind of alias...like Romeo and Juliet!"
"Too clichéd," she said.
"Dick and Jane..."
"Too puerile."
"Mulder and Scully."
"Which one is supposed to be the male?" she asked.
"Never mind," he said. "Bert and Ernie."
"Both male...and puppets. That would be weird," she said, giving him an amused glance.
"Gah! You're a tough crowd...let's keep it simple. Booth and Brennan," he said, assuming that logic would come up trumps.
"That would be like talking about ourselves in the third person," she complained. "We'd need Sweets for that."
"Yeah, true. Too close to home," mused Booth, wracking his brains. "Having a hypothetical discussion with you is like counting cards..."
"Illegal and liable to end up getting your knees broken?" she asked with a grin.
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"I am so adding you to my prayers tonight...I know!" he said suddenly inspired, a shit-eating grin emerging on his face. "Superman and Wonder Woman."
Brennan laughed heartily, almost tipping her sandwich onto her lap. "Ridiculous, but acceptable for the purposes of this conversation," she conceded.
"What were we talking about anyways?" quipped Booth. Brennan aimed a pickle at him, her raised brow daring him to make her day.
"Not the suit!" he said, attempting to scoot away on the bench, almost falling off the end of it. Brennan extended her hand to haul him back toward her.
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Brennan took a sip of her soda and grimaced, realising it was Booth's. Taking a sip from the other cup, she washed away the cloying sweetness with her own drink.
"Superman is keen to ask Wonder Woman to marry him. But he knows that Wonder Woman has strong Amazonian sentiments about marriage; they are both wary, having been in unsuccessful relationships in the past," she began.
"So they've both tried and failed and been burned along the way," Booth said.
"Exactly...but Superman and Wonder Woman would both be immune from the deleterious effects of burns, on account of their Super-powers," she said.
"I take your point, Bones. But now is not the time to come out as a purist Justice League fangirl, okay?" he said with a shake of his head.
"Fine. I'm just characterising..." she complained. "Superman and Wonder Woman have a highly satisfying sex life..."
"Case in point, 'page 187'. Which should totally be done in costume," he said with a grin.
"I'll take that under consideration," she said with a smile that he'd never seen her use in public before. Booth was quietly coveting Superman's stretchy Lycra pants at that moment.
Brennan continued on, her lunch forgotten. "Wonder Woman is approaching the end of her viable child-bearing years, and although the subject of her wanting a child has been raised, her dedication to the important work at the Justice League has kept her from realising her dream. Before she and Superman got together, she spent some time on the Island of Themyscira, going back to her roots and contemplating the things that were important in her life. At the same time Superman retreated to his Fortress of Solitude, where he was going to stabilise unrest in the region and also going to take a little time away from the Justice League. But he was bitten by a radioactive Kryptonite Ice Spider and in his weakened state, he became ensnared in its web."
"It sounds a bit like a Spiderman crossover...so they've spent some time apart. How long?" he asked.
"Long enough...it's not really relevant to the plot, Booth." She gave him a long look. "Too long."
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He moved the soda cup that sat between them and shifted closer, placing and arm around her shoulder and kissing her temple. She leaned against him and ran a hand down his thigh absently.
"Okay, Wonder Woman and Superman return to the Justice League...and he asks her to marry him?" prompted Booth.
"No, the plot is more complex than that, Booth. I have a reputation as a best-selling author to maintain," she said with a chuckle. "They have to return to Metropolis early...to save the World. Superman is recovering from his incident with the Ice Spider and he doesn't realise it but the spider follows him back to Metropolis and takes up residence in his apartment. Wonder Woman wants to tell Superman that she loves him, but...he is caught in the web of the spider. They still do their work at Justice League, but Wonder Woman begins to doubt the things that make her a super-hero. Her self-confidence, her sexuality, her ability to ever be a mother, whether she is worthy of her partnership with Superman."
"Geez, there's going to be a lot of angst along with whatever gruesome case you've cooked up for this book, Bones," he said with a heavy heart. Booth realised that this was her process, and that she knew that he knew what lay at the centre of this multifaceted analogy.
"The case involves the perfect murder. It's a thematic counterpoint to the chaos in the lives of the central protagonists," she said. "Despite Wonder Woman and Superman finally find their way back into each other's hearts, and beds; my Editor and I are still debating whether Kathy should ask Andy, or the other way around."
"What do you think?" he said, ignoring her slip from the Justice League analogy.
"I'm...conflicted," she admitted. "I've always maintained that marriage is an archaic institution which holds even less meaning today than it did when women were bonded into servitude with it. However, I have also come to appreciate that people with strong values systems see marriage as a logical evolution of the decision to take a mate...or a soul-mate. I never had any reason to consider it a worthwhile undertaking, even if offspring are involved. But now..."
"Wonder Woman has a reason..." finished Booth.
"She has several," said Brennan with a sultry smile. "The reasons are not just about Superman's..."
"Yeah, let's try and keep it PG, Bones," interjected Booth in a hissing whisper and looking around to see if anyone was in earshot. "We can talk about the sparky bits in private."
"Angela is usually around for that part," she said with a laugh.
"Yeah, you told me...bottle of wine, lots of sex talk. Not that she is in any condition to do either of those right now," he said.
"On the consumption of alcohol, I concur," she said. "But Angela likes to talk about sex, particularly as her repertoire is currently being limited by her gravid state."
"Let's just leave all talk of her 'gravid' limitations right there, okay?" said Booth looking a little queasy.
"Angela tells me that sex during pregnancy is extremely enjoyable. Would you have sex with me if I were heavily pregnant, Booth?" she asked bluntly, turning slightly to observe his reaction directly.
"Absolutely," he shot back, wanting to head that particular discussion off at the pass. "But we're getting off topic here. You were telling me that Kathy would be doing the proposing, but now you're in two minds. Why?"
"Wonder Woman, Booth...and Superman," she said insistently.
"Right...," he said, turning to face her. "So why the change of heart, and why does it matter?"
"Because, to Superman, the proposal has more meaning...it aligns more strongly with his personal, cultural and spiritual mores from an Anthropological perspective. It shouldn't matter who asks who, and my Editor favours Wonder Woman doing the asking...but she is a Lesbian, which biases her opinion - if she decided to get married, a woman would be always be proposing in her World view. Hence, my being conflicted."
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Booth took a sip of his soda and realised that it was some sort of ghastly iced-tea. He handed the cup to Brennan.
"Yecch! How can you drink that stuff?" he asked. "So let me get this straight, Bones. You're in two minds about Wonder Woman doing the proposing and you're backing away from the idea because your Editor would rather that Wonder Woman be asking Cat Woman to get hitched? That's all well and good...and I've gotta admit, probably a little too hot for a Justice League analogy."
"Correct," she said with a laugh. "I acknowledge that there is a significant cliché in the alpha-male proposal scenario. But in the absence of experiential anecdotes to support my decision; my inclination is weighed in favour of Anthropology."
"Then you should go with Anthropology," he said encouragingly.
"Booth..." she hesitated. "You've proposed marriage before...you've read my books...your personal influences are not dissimilar to those of Andy...I mean, Superman. We have to create a cover around this moment. What would you choose?"
He couldn't hide the flash of pain that crossed his face. "Alright, humour me here, Bones...because you know I've never gotten a 'Yes' whenever I asked." It was her turn to look uncomfortable. "If I were Superman...and I knew Wonder Woman was willing..." he paused and grabbed the foil wrapper from his lunch and began scrunching it up between his hands.
"What are you doing, Booth?" she asked, mildly entertained by his flash of inspiration.
"Method acting...it's all the rage," he said with a grin. "Re-enact the scene in your mind. I'm Superman. You're Wonder Woman. We're sat on the steps of the Justice League bickering about whether I should hop into your invisible airplane and go back to your place, or if I should just scoop you up and fly you back to my Metropolis apartment for the night."
"We should probably take my plane, because I wouldn't want you to hurt your back re-enacting a flight back to your place," she said earnestly.
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"Okay, skip that part," suggested Booth. "It's a gorgeous sunrise. We've been up catching bad guys all night, and we're still sat on the steps of the Justice League...but Wonder Woman is gazing wistfully at her left hand, the sun is reflecting of her Amazonian bracelets as she regrets not asking Superman to get married. Superman notices that she's hesitant and throws caution to the wind, because he loves Wonder Woman and wants them to be happy together. He's been burned by Lois Lane before, but she was a mere mortal...and Wonder Woman is a super-hero, and always wears costumes that show off her awesome boobs."
"I have a bust like Wonder Woman's," she said with a smile. "I love wearing the costume at Halloween!"
"I know," he said, trying not to look too openly at said cleavage in the green dress. "So Superman uses his super powers to attract particles of Amazonian from all over the planet, maybe even the entire Solar System and then he uses his vision and his super strength to make this..."
Booth held out his cupped hands, containing the misshapen foil from his lunch packaging.
"What is it?" she asked peering into his hands and resisting using her own hands to lift and examine the bizarre creation. "It's too big to be an engagement ring. You'll have to elaborate, Superman."
"Sheesh, Wonder Woman, give a superhero a break. It's a prototype...symbolic of his love for her...but you're right, it's not a ring," he said with a smile.
Brennan frowned, assuming her Wonder Woman persona. They probably needed to get some acting practice in before their stint undercover in any case. "If that is an Amazonian chastity belt, Superman, I'm going to jam it right up your Super..."
He placed a finger over her lips. "Let's get a little more evidence on the board before you get your star-spangled panties in a bunch, okay Wonder Woman?" She nodded mutely.
"So Superman gets down on one knee..." Booth slipped off the bench and assumed the pose, ignoring her raised eyebrows. "He says, Wonder Woman, Diana Prince...whatever your name is...You know I love you more than the yellow sun of this Solar System that gives me all my super powers. I know you have a kick-ass Amazon reputation to uphold, but I can't go another day without asking...will you do me the honour of being my super-hero wife and be the mother of our super-hero babies, by accepting these Amazonian knuckle dusters that I created for you?"
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Brennan gave a half-laugh, half-sob. "Our DNA may not be compatible Superman. I'm not sure if we could have children."
"Eh, I've got Super-sperm and we'll get some super-squint at the Justice League to get onto that...so what do you say, Wonder Woman?" he asked, proffering the foil knuckledusters. She took the scrunched up foil from his hand, trying not to laugh. Voices floated over from a small group of foreign tourists who had gathered, chattering away excitedly.
"Don't look now, Booth," she said in a stage whisper, behind her hand which was feigning wiping tears from her cheek. Demonstrating her own acting chops, her cheeks were realistically damp. "We've got an audience. You should consider amateur dramatics."
"Okay, Bones, let's give them a show. We're on you...action!" he whispered.
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Brennan placed a hand on his cheek and Booth took her other hand, still holding the crumpled foil, between his hands. A small encouraging cheer came from the tourists.
"Superman, if it were anyone other than you asking, I'd be throttling them with the Lasso of Truth right now," she said barely able to contain her impulse to collapse with laughter. "You're the only man that I will ever be satisfied by, regardless of whether I'm wearing my costume or not."
Booth gave a snort. "Not an issue, I've got X-Ray vision, baby!"
"I'd still be happy to throttle you with my Lasso..." she threatened."But I would be happy to be your super wife until the end of time, or until the planet is consumed by a black hole - because technically, we're immortal, Booth," she added in a very Brennan footnote.
"So, that's a yes?" he asked, putting the foil over the knuckles of her left hand.
She nodded, giving a thumbs and a wink to the small crowd, who clapped and cheered wildly. "Quick, kiss me!" she hissed.
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Booth complied until the cheering died down and their passionate clinch attracted a number of wolf whistles. One English speaker yelled at them to get a room.
They re-instated themselves on the bench, their hands joined loosely. Brennan looked at the back of her hand, and scrunched up her nose, showing her left hand to him. "I think some of your lunch particulates transferred onto my knuckledusters, Booth."
He took her hand and nibbled at the smudge of sauce. "Mmm! delicious."
"That was a great deal of fun, Booth," she said leaning against him. She tilted her head to look up into his face with a serious expression. "Next week, or whenever you're ready, you should know that knuckledusters...and chastity belts are probably unacceptable symbols to be used in a proposal of marriage."
"Ring, bunch of flowers, something traditional - check," he said kissing the tip if her nose. "But you don't get a Lasso, or star-spangled panties, okay?"
"Deal," she said with a grin.
A/N: Uh, yeah…this chapter ran away and did whatever it wanted – sorry about that! Next up...fun with everyone's favourite baby duck, Sweets!