Created April 2013 - I don't own these characters as made famous by the TV show, Bones. Love them anyway. All the rest that follows is my feeble attempt to keep time in between broadcasts and Razztaztic, Threesquares and Covalent Bond postings. (What a joy to get the gift of a Razztaztic posting today! Yay!)
06/06/2013 - A/N: While I'm more of a dove than hawk, I am also the aunt to a few young men who have enlisted to protect our country. With my pride and admiration of their service also comes my regard for those who have fought before them, especially those dwindling numbers of soldiers who fought on D-Day and in WWII in either the Pacific or European theaters.
Given the solemnity of today's anniversary, it feels a tad self-aggrandizing to remark about reviews, but I have to thank all of you who have commented on the story, your comments and feedback are unexpected and really nice to receive!
I must comment that my favorite from last chapter coming from SamJayandHolyMae who basically b-slapped me for where I stopped :) last chapter. That was hilarious! I must also thank maneu who totally got my point - Sweets is creepy (even the lovable can be creepy people; reflexively, the creepy can be lovable). Also to uscgal04 who posts the nicest reviews! And finally, much appreciation to Covalent Bond, whose POV has inspired what will be a Father's Day companion piece to" Ma Bone Day".
Like Mr. Hanson, Mr. Nathan & company - I came to the conclusion that their first time really should belong mostly to B&B. But that's not to say I won't examine their subsequent engagements.
Please enjoy this (relatively) short chapter while I'll edit (and re-edit and re-edit) the funeral / Inspector Pritchard chapters. - W
"Heya Wendell, do you mind if I eat with you guys?"
Wendell brightened at the request of Booth's Mini-me. The Mayfair-touring Jeffersonian team had decided to compromise their afternoon lunch plans and decided to grab sandwiches at a local shop in Mayfair. Ever the insatiable Americans, the team had not cancelled their lunch, but simply wanted to supplement whatever British meal that each was certain would not accommodate their voracious appetites with a bite from the neighborhood. The team had gathered a few tables together, and Wendell and Arastoo had claimed spots at the end of one of the tables.
Arastoo smiled politely as Wendell suggested the spot across beside Mr. Vaziri. While Arastoo had been enjoying getting to know Dr. Saroyan in a non-work related atmosphere, he also recognized how beneficial to his career it would be to spend some quality time with the young man who could at any time become his tempestuous mentor's stepson.
Parker's face lit up as Mr. Vaziri made space for him. "Hey LLPB!" Arastoo grinned at the nickname that Vincent had earned from his Jeffersonian colleagues, coined at its origin by Vincent.
Clark Edison stood in the checkout line, eyeing his seating options for his meal. While he enjoyed working with Dr. Saroyan and Dr. Hodgins tremendously, he saw this trip as an opportunity to get to connect with his fellow interns a bit more. After an odd – yet professional – conversation with Fisher, Clark had decided to eat "with the Boys."
Parker's legs flung back and forth under the table as he chewed thoughtfully on his pickle. His face knotted in a Brennan-like frown as he considered new data that he had recently gathered.
"Hey, do you guys think that my Dad will marry Dr. Bones?"
Wendell's eyebrows shot up his forehead as his buddy's kids' directness. Arastoo grinned politely, assuming Parker was reading into observations that they all had grown used to through the years. Arastoo responded. "Uh, Parker. I think that that's probably a conversation that you would want to have with your Dad. I'm sure he cares about Dr. Brennan, but who better than him to answer your question?"
Parker shook his head at Arastoo's suggestion, then aped his and Wendell's chin-up nods at Clark and Fisher as they sat down beside Wendell and Parker respectively. "Hey Little Man!" Clark greeted enthusiastically. "You and I got the same meal, huh?" Clark and Parker bumped fists as Fisher frowned at what he perceived to be his under heated Shepard's pie.
Meanwhile, Wendell winked at his Persian counterpart's appropriately neutral response at Parker. Still, knowing what he knew, he was curious. "Arastoo's right, ParkMan – you should really talk to your Pop about this. But, why do you ask?"
Parker grinned his father's grin as he recalled what he had seen earlier. Little did his father or Dr. Bones know that Dr. Hodgins had let Parker double-back to the apartment to get the digital camera. And what an eyeful he had seen of his dad and Dr. Bones.
"Well, because I know my Dad loves Dr. Bones." Parker stated matter-of-factly.
Clark shook his head in exasperation, wondering if any member of the Jeffersonian, FBI and/or any of their extended family could discuss anything other than Brennan and Booth's unavoidable coupling. At least Parker wasn't covering territory that they all had already agreed upon.
"AND – " he continued, leaning into the table of men with a conspiratorial grin " I just saw my Dad grabbing Dr. Bones' butt….."
Clark coughed. Choking a bit on his veggie sandwich.
"AND - her boobs" he stated, chuckling like only a ten year old snickers about boobs. "I saw her boobs!"
In what seemed like a simultaneous movement, Clark dropped his napkin and picked up his tray, heading to sit on the other side of Dr. Saroyan, mumbling "No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no…." away from any further awkward details.
Wendell & Fisher chuckled. Arastoo huffed, eyebrows raised in surprise at his counterparts' lack of surprise.
Parker looked a the table of Squinterns for some feeback. "Well?"
Buddhists.
Fucking Bones.
Literally, I was fucking Bones, and Fucking Bones had invaded my head with a comment that she had made to me at thousand years ago.
About Buddhists.
She had said "Buddhists believe that if you lose yourself in a moment, without distraction or desire, you experience the truth."
God, she was irritating, when she said shit like this. Shit that I couldn't forget. Shit I love to remember.
Shit that is so apropos right now.
I watched my naked, beautiful, partner - my best friend - writhe in ecstasy against me, encased by my arms. Watching me prove my love to her.
She was experiencing truth.
Her eyes were locked on me. There was no distraction.
The sensation of being inside her – filling her, her tight walls welcoming me. We were beyond desire.
This was truth.
"Bones, you make me so happy, Baby."
Jesus, she feels amazing. She is home.
I have never felt this way before. I knew, but I did not know this feeling, this incredible feeling, was possible.
"I'm yours, Bones. You're it for me, Baby. Just. Incredible."
With only one arm around me, I feel more secure at his grip than any gun's protection can make me feel.
He is everywhere around me right now. All of my senses are honed to Booth and his actions.
The delicious scent of him consumes me. The mix of his soap, his shaving products…him – common to me, but even more intoxicating mixed with our pheromones.
His voice in my ear, vibrating against my neck, my cheek. The assertions of his love for me, his ownership of me. My ownership of him. They are whispers, but yet they surround and reverberate through my whole body.
Oh God, the taste of him. Although our position allowed me only limited ability to taste him, each tease of my mouth to his was a sweet delight.
And the sight of him. I can't, I can't process this data quickly enough. He is making love to me.
Oh God.
His eyes have not left mine as he's rendered me unable to stand without his assistance. He has challenged me to not look away. And what I see – I have never felt so cornered, so unable to escape. He is willing his love into me with every incredible stroke.
He. Feels. So. Good.
He's holding me – his arms across my torso – so that I cannot run away – from his face, from his love, from my fear. This feeling – I have not experienced it before – makes me want to never leave this grip. I want him this close to me always, I want the look on his face on me forever.
I am terrified. And happy.
Oh God.
I am his. He is mine. We are one.
We are each other's halves to achieve a whole.
This – this feeling, this is not physical.
I can barely breathe.
Oh, he feels so good.
"Don't. Ever. Stop. Booth."
His stare. That love. My love.
"Oh my God, Booth. Yes!"
Yes.
Booth thundered into Brennan with a force comparable only to the uncontrollable hum of her own orgasm. Competitive to the end, they rode their orgasms out with the most erotic staring contest ever attempted, neither willing to play the role of the vanquished.
The intensity of the experience, the reckoning with this man's love almost broke Brennan. As she watched – and felt – and heard - Booth come inside her, her levels of disorientation had reached new peaks.
He watched her – so in love and so terrified that at any moment she could escape him again, sentencing him to even more time to not love her.
But she had faced her own truth. She was ready to accept his love.
It was Booth who broke first. The sight of her so loving, so free, so wanting of his affection was - unexpected. As her body withered from their explosive, mutual release, the rush of his relief, his love – hit him with the force of forty locomotives.
He gripped her, both of his hulking arms around her waist. Brennan reached back to grasp Booth to her and to remain standing. In the brief seconds that her eyes left his, tears began to rush from his face.
Brennan watched in the mirror as Seeley Booth began to cry. Her eyes widened in fear – had he realized that he had made a mistake? Did he regret their unprotected activity? Was their engagement not as he expected? Like quicksilver, scenarios ran through Brennan's mind. Yet for the first time in her entire love life, she prioritized the needs of her partner.
She spun towards him, relieved that he allowed her movements without objection. Brennan's always examining eyes peered at him, his sobs coming into control with one soothing word from her.
"Booth."
Booth allowed the softness of her Brennan's front to meld with his own. Brennan centered Booth's face in her hands as she searched for answers, for a different interpretation of the truth that she felt she had acquired.
But she saw none. What she saw was how happy her partner had welcomed her concern. How sweetly that his tearful gaze regarded her. Her eyes began to tear in realization of what they had just accomplished.
Love.
Requited.
After seven years of dancing.
Simultaneously, they laughed and cried at the high that they were experiencing.
"I love you" she stated affectionately. More affectionately than should be expected from the stoic anthropologist.
"Bones…" Booth hummed.
Her pert little nose sought comfort in contact with his own. Their lips met briefly, tenderly.
"I'm yours, Booth." she breathed against his lips. He parted her lips with his tongue, engaging Brennan in a hypnotic kiss. She easily received his mouth.
Challenging him to recall, she added "Do you love me?"
Automatically, Booth knew how he would respond, and immediately he replied "Yeah, do you want me to prove it to you?"
Brennan beamed at her partner's recall of a story that she was afraid to publish, let alone tell. Yet it was always there between them, wasn't it? His knowledge of her heart.
"If you're not too sleepy…" she completed.
Booth slipped his hand around to Brennan's bottom, lifting her up and fastening her legs around his body. Excitedly, she wrapped her arms and torso around him like a vine. Off he carried her to her bedroom for round two.
And round three...