A Very Bad Idea
By: dharmamonkey & Lesera128
Rated: M
Disclaimer: Ummm, nope, we still don't own anything. We have, however, apparently become squatters in the sandbox that we crashed... so, umm... yeah. There we go.
A/N: Well, well. Here we are. At the last chapter/part of another Very Bad Idea scenario. Lucky Number Seven, in this case. This one was another one of those not-just-about-the-unf VBIs. Hopefully, as we move into the last part, you'll find it nonetheless satisfying. We think you will. (We haven't let you folks down yet in that department, right?) Speaking of that, it's time for another silly...
Unf Alert: Think of this as the McDonald's "Careful - Contents May Be Hot" notice. As per usual, the really epic hotness is revealed in the last chapter of a VBI scenario. You, our friends, having arrived at said last chapter, are about to get to some very tingly unfness, which if you don't want to read about, you should save yourself and turn back now. For the rest of you, well, you know what you're here for, and it's not reading our pithy A/N's (though we have been told they are mildly amusing). So, fasten your seat belts, pull forward and have your payment ready at the window.
VII. Pyrite, Part IV
Pertinent Details on Scenario #7: Set sometime between the episode 5x22- "The Beginning in the End" and 6x8- "The Doctor in the Photo."
Booth couldn't help himself as he stared at Brennan in expectation, afraid he was going to say something that was wrong in what he knew was a very...well, delicate...situation. However, he couldn't help himself as he stared at her, leaned over, and cheerfully kissed her shoulder as he wondered why she was so put out over the idea of her acting on the obvious sexual attraction they'd always had for one another.
"Come on, Bones," he said playfully. "You say that like it's a bad thing."
"Booth!" she said, turning on him, obviously put off by his blithe reaction to her very personal confession. "It was!"
"Ummm," he murmured, a bit of blatant male confusion present on his face as he scratched his head, sending his already-chaotic hair in even more different directions. "You're gonna have to help me out here, Bones. Tell me again...what's the problem with you hitting on me—especially considering the fact that I like it and really want you to come on to me? So, why is this a bad thing again?"
"Because," she explained, trying not to feel too much frustration at what was a clear symptom of the obtuseness inherent in the male specimens of their species. "You...in the dream...you'd just rejected me." He still looked at her with a perplexed look on his face that didn't do a lot to soothe the flash of frustration Brennan was feeling at his inability to see why the situation in her dream—i.e., her blatantly coming onto him in such circumstances—was such a bad thing. "Booth...don't you understand? You'd just told me that your dumbass blonde girlfriend wasn't a consolation prize and implied that I was by default...and I couldn't handle that type of rejection so I came on to you, and you liked it, and even more disturbing, I liked it that you liked it!" Her words came in a half-choked gush that puzzled Booth as much as the words themselves.
"Hmmm," he said as he tried to take in what she'd said. "You know you're nobody's consolation prize, Bones." He kissed her shoulder again, letting his lips linger on her skin as he felt her tremble slightly. "Because after last night, you know that you've got nothing to worry about, right? The only woman I want has amazing auburn hair and brilliant gray eyes." He waggled his eyebrows, trying to elicit a smile from her. When he failed, he frowned slightly and then said, "But, uhh...okay, Bones. So...you came on to me after I kind of blew you off?"
"There was no 'kind of' about it," she told him. "You were quite clear and quite...adamant."
"Okay," he said. "Then...even after all of that, you still came on to me...and what? We both liked it?"
"Yes," Brennan nodded. "On some level, I'd have to say that we both did."
Trying to make sense of her confusing words, and starting to become a bit frustrated himself at not being able to grasp the point, Booth shook his head as he said, "Okay, Bones...I, uhh...maybe it's the hangover still, but I'm not sure I understand. If we both liked it, what was the big deal? I'm obviously missing something here."
"The 'big deal,' Booth," Brennan interjected, "is that, as you've so adroitly both phrased and summarized the situation, all of that happened with both of us knowing that you were in a committed relationship with another female who wasn't me. Do you understand now?"
"Wait a minute," he said. "I, that is...me...in your dream...do you mean I cheated on another woman with you?" he said, his brow furrowing as he waited expectantly for an answer to his question. Whoa, he thought. She...wait a sec—she had a dream about me cheating on someone else by getting together with her? Because, in that dream, I wasn't hers. I was someone else's. Wait, I mean—she doesn't actually think...is there some little voice inside of her telling her that she somehow doesn't have me? Or that she doesn't deserve to have me? Awwwww, damn. After last night? After yesterday? Booth took a breath and tried to conceal the flash of sadness that washed over him at the revelation. If yesterday was about anything, it was that I've always been hers. I could never move on. But, if she had that dream—oh, God.
"Errrr...yes," she said, helpless to meet his questioning gaze and unable to help herself as she let out a small breath of relief that he'd finally taking her meaning, but now uncertain what to do in response. "Yes..." her voice trailed off.
"Wait a sec," he said. He arched his brow and his forehead crinkled as he finally caught up with her train of thought. "So, if I cheated with you on this mystery other woman that means...did we actually have sex in this dream of yours?"
Again, the sight of her throwing Booth down on the hood of her car flashed in her mind's eye. She climbed on top of him, she remembered, and she'd cried out when she came. Recalling the orgasm she'd had made her flush even redder than she'd been in the moment of her dream.
When she was silent, and he noticed her turning red in embarrassment, Booth pressed her, "Bones?"
"Yes," she finally muttered.
"'Yes' what?" he asked.
Snapping up to meet his questioning gaze, Brennan nodded furiously as she spoke. "Yes," she finally confirmed. "Yes...we did have sex."
"That's not a bad thing, right?" he said with a grin, his voice dropping a little as he stroked his index finger over her sheet-covered thigh. His attempt at humor fell flat, and he frowned, his gut clenching as he sensed the deep angst and insecurity that had shaken her in the wake of this dream. He wanted to take her in his arms and show her that, no matter what had happened in her dream—and no matter what kind of doubts or insecurities her subconscious whispered in the ear of her mind—none of it was real. "You know I love you, Bones. You know that, right? I mean, especially after last night." He took a breath, realizing that, no matter how much he wanted to take the pain and uncertainty away from her, the only way she'd see her way to the other end of this was to have her explain what she'd dreamed and somehow unpack its significance.
"Last night," she began tentatively. "No, last night...it wasn't a bad thing. And, I know...after what happened yesterday that you do love me. But, in my dream, Booth—if you understand nothing else, you have to realize...what we were, our lives then...we weren't in the same place in my dream, okay? We were so far apart, and it didn't seem like we'd ever be in the same place and at the same time. So, when we had sex, it was...it was...in a different context, in my dream." She struggled to make him understand. "And, well, in my dream? Well, a bed...a bed wasn't exactly involved."
"Heh," he said, unable to suppress a snicker as he took the meaning of her words. "Well, at least we know where that part of the dream must've come from, right? Since, the same was true last night for us, right? At least," he grinned at her. "Well, at least the first time."
"Well, we didn't even eventually make it into a bed," she conceded. "But...at least, last night, we were able to maintain enough self-control so that we eventually did make it into my bed—which, for a number of reasons, not the least of which being my concern about your back, was a very good thing." She stopped and chewed her bottom lip as she added, "I suppose it's a good thing that the you and me in reality apparently have more self control than the you and me in my dream world do since last night we managed not to finally consummate our relationship in what was, technically, a public place."
"We had sex in a public place?" Booth's brow furrowed and then the light of realization flickered in his eyes. "I mean...wait...where were we...errrr, are you saying we actually had sex in the parking garage?"
"Yes," she said, blanching a bit at seeing his reaction to her telling him what was one of the more benign details of her dream. Sighing, she knew she couldn't be less than accurate as she was in all other things and so added, "Specifically, on the hood of my car."
"Seriously?" Booth coughed as he looked at her in disbelief. "Uhhh...that is...did we really...we actually had sex on the hood of your car?"
Okay, he thought. I know I can't say this to her right now...but that's so fucking hot, I can't stand it. Me fucking Bones on the hood of a car. Guh. He bit down on the inside of his lip. That's...that's just so totally and epically awesome. It's...I mean, I've thought about it before...I wonder if this means if she'd ever think about maybe going for it if she dreamed about it. God, how hot she'd be...even hotter than she already is, which is pretty fucking hot. But, man...what an idea. I mean, that's definitely somewhere on the list of Booth fantasies, somewhere in the low twenties, maybe—#21 or #22, maybe? I was always hoping it'd be on the hood of a '71 Chevelle SS or maybe a really screamin' supercharged jet black Dodge Viper, but...dude...maybe I'm the one that's dreaming now. That's it. I'm dreaming about her telling me about a dream in which she—
"I don't know if it makes a difference or not, but it was the Mercedes and not the Prius," she told him as she noticed how long it had been since he'd said anything. Not certain what else to say until he spoke again, she stared at him expectantly.
"Hmmm," he murmured dreamily, shifting his hips against the sweat-creased sheet beneath him as he felt a vague tingle in his lower back. Okay, so it's not a Viper or a Chevelle SS, but the Mercedes is pretty hot. That's a great fucking car, and—well, the idea of fucking on the hood of that fucking car? Holy hell, that's hot. "Well, the Prius is a partial zero emissions vehicle, and assuming we went all the way on the hood of said car, I'd say that this was not a partial zero emissions situation, so we were good, I think."
"We did," she said, confirmed vaguely. "That is...we did complete coitus. And, it...it was...God, we were both so angry, Booth." She stopped and then became lost in the recollection for a few moments before she said, "We just kept arguing, and somehow in the argument, things went from bad to worse and then...you sort of fell onto the hood of my car, and you kept taunting me...so I did the only thing I could think of to shut you up."
His eyes wide, Booth shook his head slightly. "Okay, I gotta ask, Bones—ummm...what was that?" He asked the question, but he had a pretty good feeling he knew what the answer was going to be, more or less, the moment the question left his mouth. He held the tip of his tongue between his lips as he waited for her reply. This is gonna be even hotter than I thought it was, he thought. Screwing on the hood of a car, in a parking garage, and she was in control. Damn.
"What was what?" she blinked at him, clearly not understanding his question.
"Umm, what did you do that shut me up?" he finally managed to croak. "What did, uhhh, what did you do, Bones?" Again, the moment the question fell from his lips, he had a good idea of what the answer would be, but he waited expectantly to hear the answer. He pressed his lips together firmly and tried to ignore the tittering sensation in his groin, hoping that if he ignored the fact that he was getting turned on, maybe she might not notice either.
"I stripped you, pushed you down on top of the car hood, and climbed on top of you," Brennan answered quickly. She then stopped as she realized that the speed with which she may have answered the question might implied that she had enjoyed the whole experience. And, maybe...even if there was a small, infinitesimal part of me that may have enjoyed it, there's no way that I'm ever telling him that. So, umm... "I think...that is, I'm certain you can infer what happened from there, correct?"
Booth's mouth broke into a crooked grin as he noticed her attempt to avoid giving him the very details that he craved.. "You, uhhhh, stripped me down?" he asked, attempting to coax her into a more open...and more giving mood. "So, uhhh...I guess the next thing that I've gotta ask, Bones, is...well, where was I during all this? 'Cause, you, ummm, make it seem like I was just kind of standing there while I let you do all this epically hot stuff to me." He waggled his eyebrows teasingly. "And since I think we both can say that we both know that I'm not, you know, a wilting wallflower when it comes to sex...uhhh, what gives?"
Brennan considered his words and then sighed. "Well, I suppose if I'm going to be specific, I should admit that you weren't standing there—"
"Awesome," he nodded, quite pleased with what she'd volunteered. "What was I doing?"
"In reality," she continued, "It would actually be more accurate to say that you were reclining. That's actually the most appropriate descriptor of the initial position that you'd assumed, as I remember it...and to address your second question, well...not to put too fine a point on the matter, but except for being as I normally am when you say I'm being 'mouthy'..." She hesitated for a moment as she tried to find the right words to explain the arrangement to her partner. "At least in my dream, you were rather...well, accommodating when it came to the sex," Brennan told him.
"Well," he snickered. "I mean, I'm an accommodating kind of guy, up to a point, but—"
"You were very accommodating," Brennan cutting him off again.
Why do you want to hear this, Booth? I mean, it was just a stupid dream. And, I'm not certain why you keep interrupting me if the whole point of this is a cathartic exercise that's supposed to make me feel better about the entire situation, she thought. If anything, it seems as if you have some more...base interest in me recounting the tale this way...and I'm not quite certain why, but if you want to hear it, so be it.
"In fact, the only way in which I might be able to say that you weren't as accommodating as I might've wished is that the more aggressive I became, the more and more you continued to verbally taunt me with what I might label as some rather...scathing insults."
So lemme get this right, Booth thought, absentmindedly stroking the sateen sheet with his finger. So I'm leaning back on the hood of her wickedly awesome silver Mercedes, and she pushes me down, climbs on top of me and rides me like—aww, fuck. God, that's hot. He pulled the sheet over his lap, not because he was cold but to try and conceal his growing hard-on. I probably shouldn't be getting this turned on, but holy hell. So far, this dream's as hot as any dream—or daydream—that I've ever had about her. Wow. Keep talking, baby. Don't stop. Please don't fucking stop.
Then, the gravity of her last words finally dawned on him. Wait. What did she just say?
"Wait—what?" he asked her as her words refocused his attention at last. "What do you mean 'scathing'? Aww, damn." He looked up at her and sighed. "What...what did I say, Bones?" he asked, his voice taking on a slightly worried tone. "Was I an asshole in your dream? I sure hope I wasn't a dick in your dream. 'Cause you know I'm not that kind of guy...right?"
"Of course, I know that, Booth. You're one of the most honorable and truest men I know." She smiled a small smile when she saw him grin at her compliment. "As to your other question, it really doesn't matter what you said," Brennan said dismissively. She then paused before she seized on some of his other words and added, "And, while it's true that you can be a dick when you want to be as the occasion arises—"
"Hey!" he blurted out, pursing his lips and pouting at her. "I don't do that—wait, really?" He blinked at her as he stared at her with wide, slow-blinking puppy-dog eyes. "I'm not...you aren't saying I can be a dick, are you?"
"Well, yes," Brennan told him. "But, you know that already, so it's not like it should be a surprise...correct?"
He suppressed a sheepish grin and shrugged weakly. "I guess so," he mumbled.
"I believe Angela once summarized it best that the cocky thing and the dickish thing are two sides of the same proverbial coin that you flip very, very expertly," Brennan said with a shrug.
"Jeez," he whined as he flashed her a mock hurt look. "You guys really talk that way about me behind my back?"
Immediately, Brennan's brow furrowed as she worried that she'd said something that wasn't right and had somehow caused him pain. "Oh, God, Booth. I'm sorry," she said, a bit of the earlier vulnerability returning to her demeanor. "I'm...I-I didn't, that is, I didn't mean to—"
"Don't worry about it, Bones," he said with a reassuring laugh, reaching his hand over and cupping her sheet-covered knee. Wow, he thought. She's really freaked out about this thing. She went from joking with me to guilty and apologetic in about 0.4 seconds there.
"I was just kidding there," he said brightly, then squeezed her knee gently. "So, anyway, I was a dick in your dream?"
"Yes," Brennan said, a look of uncertainty still clinging to her face as she questioned his response. "But, I know that whatever you said and did in my dream was a highly distorted representation of you filtered through the mesh of my subconscious and any insecurities I may feel. Subsequently, an such 'dickish' behavior—both figuratively and literally—wasn't a true reflection on the real you, Booth. I know that—I swear I do, but..."
Booth raised an eyebrow and leaned in a little closer to her. "But, what, Bones? What are you saying there, huh?" Seeing the uncertain look on her face, he said softened his voice as he reached out for one of her hands and clasped it reassuringly in his own, "You know you can tell me, you know that right? I won't judge you in any way...or hold it against you. You can always tell me anything, Bones. It was just a dream, and I know that. So...you can tell me, Bones...that is, if you want to."
She considered his words for a minute and then slowly nodded. "I do trust you, and I want to tell you since you want to know. It's just that...well, my dream, Booth?" She looked away briefly, nodded to herself and then brought her gaze up to meet his. "It was quite lewd," she suddenly confessed. "And, to be quite honest, since I'd always have such blatant honesty between us no matter what, well—I don't even know why I'm embarrassed about it now, since I've never felt shame when it comes to sex, but the dream...it was quite lewd. And, it bordered on obscene, Booth. In the dream...what was said, what was done...by both of us. It was so...lustful and profligate. I just— "
Booth laid down next to her and propped his head on his hand. Lustful and profligate? he thought. Sounds like the kind of dream that's so scorching that makes you want to avoid confession because it's at once so naughty and yet so delicious you don't want the buzzkill of telling the priest. Not that, well, that's ever happened to me, but, uhhh. He swallowed as he felt the raw, sharp tugging sensation behind his navel that signaled his increasing arousal. I really shouldn't feel this way, he thought. I should be helping her get through this, not getting off on it. He quietly cleared his throat. It is pretty fucking hot, though.
"Now you have to tell me," he said with a wicked twinkle in his eye.
"Why?" she responded instantly. "What's the big deal?"
"Awwww, come on, Bones," he said with a tempting smile and a slight pleading whine in his voice. "What's the big deal? You can really ask me that with a straight face? After a lead-in like that? Come on, baby...please. You've just gotta tell me what happened next. Please. I need details, Bones...and lots of 'em. So, please...have pity on me. Be nice, huh? Don't make me beg—because I will. Given how ever-loving hot this little ditty that your genius egghead brain of yours cooked up sounds, I gotta know more, so I'm not above begging. I'll do it. So, unless you want to see me begging, you've just gotta tell me. Please?"
"It was just sex, Booth," she sighed as she felt a strange flush of warmth in her chest at his obvious prurient interest in her dream. He's not...he's not becoming aroused by this for some strange reason...is he?. "As I said, we were naked..." He licked his lips as she spoke, and Brennan began to fall into the telling of her story as she remembered and corrected herself. "Okay, wait."
"What?" he asked breathlessly, his eyes widened in anticipation as she halted the story.
"I don't think...that is, I'm fairly certain that I wasn't completely naked by this point in the dream," she said.
"And, that's how you know it was a damn dream," Booth chuckled. "Because there's no way in hell I would've left a stitch of clothing on your epic body by that point if this had really happened—"
"Booth," Brennan said, narrowing her eyes at him.
He flushed sheepishly as he realized what he'd just said. "Oh, sorry," he muttered. "You were saying?"
"I was saying," Brennan continued as she shot him another look. "Anyway, I was saying that I think I'd left my bra on for some reason, although I don't remember why. But, that's not the important part. What's the important part is that we were pretty much naked and...naked, you were lying prone on the hood of my car, and after I...err, manipulated you to make certain that you were aroused enough for me to impale myself, I climbed on top of you and...we had sex. Simple. End of story."
Booth grunted at hearing the word impale. He squirmed against the mattress as his mind's eye was filled with a delicious image of his partner, poised over him, and riding him to the edge of oblivion. He reached down and pulled the comforter up from the foot of the bed in an attempt to cover his very obvious erection. I don't know if I'm gonna survive the rest of this story. He pulled the duvet over his groin and took a deep breath. Wait, he blinked. I need to turn off the little brain and turn on the big brain here. Get a grip, Booth. He took a deep breath and turned to face her again.
"Now, wait—wait a sec," he said, narrowing his eyes and looking at her critically. "Hang on there, Bones. You woke up crying, baby. So far, I'm not sure—other than this being a pretty hot dream with a pretty angsty beginning—why you'd wake up crying."
"It wasn't hot," she said suddenly as she shook her head. "It was...animalistic and driven out of feelings of raw instinct and the most base of emotions. You'd hurt me, as I said, so I wanted to hurt you. And I...I wanted to take what I could. I didn't care if it was right or moral or legitimate. I didn't care that you weren't mine to have. I didn't care that you'd told me not a half-hour before that you didn't want to hurt me, but that you were off metaphorical limits to me in that way because you were with someone else. None of that mattered to me, Booth. I just wanted to take, and...use you, I suppose. For just a little bit of time, I wanted to take what I could. And...so I did."
Her voice trailed off, and for a minute, Booth wasn't certain as to what she'd actually said in that moment since her final words had been spoken so faintly they were almost inaudible. Nevertheless, her confession caught him by surprise, and for a minute, Booth lay there in shocked silence.
Finally, he looked up at her and dared to ask, "So what are you trying to tell me, Bones? Did you...did you basically take advantage of me, or something, in this dream? I mean, was I a willing participant in this...or?"
"I wouldn't quite put it like that," she said as soon as she'd realized what he was asking. "That is...no, I didn't take advantage of you, and yes, you were a very willing participant. I mean...I warned you. I wanted you to go, and I warned you that something might happen if you stayed and still...you wouldn't leave."
She stopped as she shook away the memory of her dream and then added with an arched eyebrow, "In case you're wondering, it's not like I tied you up and violated you without your consent, Booth. As I said, you were quite accommodating...but it wasn't without a price. You...you let me fuck you, but it wasn't...it wasn't simple or without a cost."
Booth stared at her for a moment, and although he very much wanted to reach out to her, he resisted the urge. Instead, he kept his actions confined to words as he spoke with very carefully chosen words. "What do you mean, Bones?" he asked, his voice soft and even as he tried to make sure his tone was completely devoid of judgment. "I don't understand."
"That's the funny thing," she said, looking away from him. "It...after it happened? It...it wasn't like I expected. You—you said that you'd give me whatever I wanted, but that in the end it wouldn't matter. You...you said I could fuck you...or that I'd try to, but in the end, it wouldn't matter because..."
"Because why?" Booth asked hesitantly. What is it, Bones? he asked silently, pleading with his eyes that he might understand. Why wouldn't it matter? What did I say? It took every ounce of willpower he had not to reach out and take her into his arms, but he knew he needed to give her the space to reveal the most troubling aspects of her dream. You can tell me. Come on. Please tell me.
"Because, in the end I'd still be alone," she said grimly, "and I'd have to live with the knowledge that the reason I kept starting things with you but never finishing them was because you scared me. You said...for once... you said I was going to finish what I'd started for once in my life." She paused as she remembered the flash of indignant rage she'd felt as he'd continued and her subconscious had skewered her psyche and used a form that looked and sounded like Booth to do it. "You...you were were taunting me, and you kept saying that you'd given me everything you ever had or ever was, and that this time I was damn well going to take." She paused for breath and again looked away before she continued, "You told me that...I was going to have to try to deal with the fact that I wouldn't know how to be with a real man like you if my life depended on it because I was too scared...that I wouldn't know what to do with a real man's cock if it were stiff and inside me and all I had to do was move," the words tumbled out of her mouth.
"Oh, Jesus," Booth whispered. "Seriously, Bones? I-I...I did that...I-I said that to you? I mean, that is...dream-me did?"
"It got vicious then...the sex, I mean," she told him softly as she nodded in response to his question. "I-I...afterward, when we were done, you said that I was falling apart because I was scared of how I felt. You said that you scared me because of how I feel about you...how I feel when I'm with you...all of it. But, I love how I feel when you make me have those responses, and so that I wanted to be with you, but only on my terms...which basically entailed, metaphorically castrating you," she said. "There was some quip you had about my terms requiring me to cut off your balls and stick them up on a shelf in the lab..." Her voice trailed off again and for several moments she looked away in silence. "You said I could never really be with you unless I ruined you...unless I ruined the good man that you were by breaking you."
"No," he whispered, finally reaching for her again as he caressed her upper arm with the palm of his hand. He shook his head and looked at her warmly, his soft, brown eyes suddenly glistening as he heard the pain underlying her words. "No," he said again, his voice low and even. "It's not...look, Bones—you know that's not true, right?"
"How can you say that?" She suddenly looked up at him, her eyes watering once more. "How can you possibly say that when it's what happened, Booth. It happened...and not just in my dream."
"Bones," he murmured, saddened that she would think such a thing. "You didn't break me, Bones. We've hurt each other, and we were this close to leaving each other, but you didn't break me. I'm here, right? And I'm here as a willing, happy partner, not..."
"I crushed your metaphorical heart," she told him in a strangulated voice. "I know you remember it. I do. I can never forget it. That night...months ago? It's with me every day, Booth—every damn day. And, the reason why it's always with me...and probably will always stay with me is that you know exactly what I did to you that night, Booth. The way you looked when...you were so sad. And, I'm still not certain how but for some strangely persistent strand of stubbornness that's rampant in your demeanor how we ended up here, because...it's true, I think. That night...it happened maybe...maybe it's because I didn't know how else to control you."
"No," he said, rolling over and cupping his hand on her jaw. "No, no, no. Bones, that's not true."
"It is," she insisted. "You know it is."
"No," he repeated, his response growing firmer and more insistent as he sought out her eyes and refused to look away until she'd acknowledged him. "Look, that's not how—"
"You can't tell me I didn't hurt you that night," she interrupted him with a simplicity that tore at Booth's heart. I almost destroyed you that night, and I know that now. I know it. I just do...and I'll never forget it. "I know I did, Booth. I know I did."
"Bones—" God, Bones...what are you doing to torture yourself here? he thought sadly. And—more importantly—why?
"I did," she insisted, her voice scarcely more than a mutter but somehow stronger than it was just moments before. She sighed and added softly, "And, even more importantly, if I did it once before, I'll do it again, Booth. We both know that I will. I'll keep wearing you down until you're either broken or one day you'll just leave me...and on that day, I doubt I'll be able to hold any blame against you since I know I'll have driven you to it. I'll have only myself to blame."
"No," he said firmly as he shook his head furiously and sat up in the bed. You've got to let this thing go, Bones, he pleaded silently. It'll kill you otherwise. You have to let it go, and I'm going to help to you to do just that starting right now.
"No," he said. "Listen to me, Bones. Listen, alright? I'm here. Yesterday, we were at a crossroads, and we made a choice, each of us, not to leave. We made that choice, and I'm so thankful for it, I can't even tell you. We made that choice...together. And, now? Right now? I'm here because I want to be with you, and I think you're here because you want to be with me. Not because you castrated me, figuratively or otherwise."
"Wanting's never been the issue, Booth," she said with a sad shake of her head. "It's the consequences of the wanting...those consequences, or the price to be paid, if you prefer...I think that's—that's what's at the heart of the issue here."
"Okay, Bones...so what if it is?" he asked, his voice edged with a vague frustration. "Then what's the price?"
"For a man like you to be with a woman like me," she whispered. "You...that is...maybe you can't be who you really are if you're with a person like who I am..."
"Bones," he snapped in exasperation as he moved his hand to the back of his head and ran his fingers through his hair unconsciously.. "Stop. Just...take two seconds...and just stop, alright?" He took a another deep breath. "Look...you and I, we're singular people. We're not like other people. But if there's anything we've learned, or at the very least, something that we should've friggin' learned by now—over the last five years, that is—it's that you and I are better people when we're together than we are apart. You make me a better person, Bones. A better man, really. You always have...right from the very beginning. And I like to think my friendship and our partnership has helped you be a better person. And, so, that's how I know, okay? That's exactly the reason why I know this can work...it does work." He sighed. "You know that, don't you? I mean...what we have...it's good, isn't it?"
"Yes," she told him with a thickness continuing to choke her as she spoke. "But—"
"No!" he told her more forcefully as he felt another stab of frustration vent at her stubbornness. "No, Bones—there can't be any 'buts' on this one."
He stopped and then softened his tone and took a deep breath, then continued.
"Look...is it possible we'll hurt each other from time to time?" he asked. "Sure. Hell, yes...it's probably gonna definitely happen because of the type of people we are. And that's okay...it is...because will I frustrate the fuck out of you sometimes just like you drive me batty? Damn straight. That's a damn given, too. But in the end, Bones, when everything's said and done between us...you know it's okay, right? It'll be okay because I know in my heart that we'll always have a net positive. That's why...that's why I left that MEPS station yesterday morning and left those damn enlistment papers on the table. And that's why I asked you to stay. And that's why I took you out to celebrate and got drunk on champagne with you and why I'm so friggin' happy that we spent the night in one another's arms. Do you understand that? Do you? Please...God...please, Bones. Tell me you understand."
She struggled to listen to his words, but the insecurities continued to gnaw at her. Finally she breathed, "It's just...we can't—I'll hurt you, Booth. I know I will. I'll do something that will either change who you are or drive you away. It's almost a statistical certainty."
"Bones, there are no guarantees," he said with a bit of sadness in his voice as he spoke softly. "And, you know...just as well as I do that with the risks come the possibility of rewards. The best rewards, okay? The very best kind. Nothing worth having is without some cost, or risk—or both. I guess that's what I meant that night about being a gambler. That's a risk I'm willing to take. Take it with me, Bones. Let's make something together, you and me."
"Booth," she whispered. "I-I...what if we can't? What if we fail?" She looked over at him, her pale eyes brimmed with tears. "What if we don't make it?"
"We won't fail," he answered simply. "We will make it, Bones. I know it. I swear to God I know it."
"How can you know that?" she asked. "How? How...please tell me, and I promise I'll believe you. Tell me...how can you be so damn sure?"
"I know, Bones," Booth said as he smiled at her. "I just know because I have faith...faith enough for both of us if you're coming up short in that department." He leaned in and slowly traced his index finger along her collarbone. "Do you trust me?" he asked as he stared into her deep pale eyes.
She blinked, loosening a couple of tears that fell onto her cheeks as his words—or the words of his dreamspace doppelganger—echoed in her mind.
'Do you want to trust me?'
'Do you want to be with me?'
She nodded slowly. "Yes," she whispered. "I trust you, Booth. I'm scared, and I'm uncertain, but I trust you. More than anyone or anything else in my life, I trust you. I swear I do. I trust you. I trust us..."
"Good," he replied as he smiled at her. "Because you know what, Bones?" His pursed lips gave way to a toothy smile as he raised his hand to caress her jaw. "I trust you," he said. "I trust you more than I've ever trusted anyone." He moved his hand to brush a stray lock of hair away from her forehead. "I've never doubted you, Bones. Never. Not once."
He curled his fingers into a loose fist and gently caressed her temple with the flat of his knuckles before he leaned in and kissed her. At first, he only brushed his lips against hers, pausing as he felt her lips briefly tremble beneath his before she opened her mouth to his. He stroked his tongue along the slim edge of her lips, hesitating as he tasted the salt of her tears, then a low hum sounded in his throat as he felt her tongue dart out to meet his.
As she kissed him, she leaned her shoulder into his chest, and it took only him rolling onto his back as he gently nudged her hip and she took her place on top of him, straddling his thighs. He lay against the mattress and gazed into her pale eyes which seemed to him to glitter as she stared back at him. He watched her, his hands drifting to rest on her hips as she let her own fingers skate along the edge of his chest and over his biceps before she palmed the soft skin and firm muscle of his round, broad shoulders as a smile finally broke across her face once more.
"You have incredible shoulders," she said, her mouth falling open in a soft laugh as he grinned proudly.
"Heh," he chuckled as he squeezed her hips lightly. "I remember once you told me I had 'a perfect acromion.'"
"I remember," she murmured lazily. "That was the Santa bomber case. I was busy trying to collect evidence and all I could think about was wanting to touch you and how good it finally felt to have the opportunity to do so."
"Yeah," he snickered playfully at the recollection. "It felt pretty damn good to have you touching me finally, too. It was awesome, but you damn near drove me out of my skin. That whole reciting saints thing?" He scrunched up his nose with a grin. "It didn't really work." He paused and then said, "You know...I went home that night and Googled 'acromion' because I was so psyched and flattered that you thought I had a perfect anything that I just had to know..."
"Really?" she blinked at him in clear surprise. "I didn't know that."
"Well, now you do," he nodded at her, pleased with himself that he'd finally surprised her as she so often did for him.
Stroking her thumbs over the bony points that protruded slightly from the outer edge of his shoulder where the fanlike trapezius and his bulging deltoid muscles met, she smiled coyly and added, "Your shoulders were the first thing I noticed about you, that morning we first met." She kneaded his muscles with her thumbs and shrugged. "I've been admiring your shoulders for years, Booth."
"Thanks, Bones," he said, his voice suddenly a bit more hoarse than it had been in the moments before she'd started touching him. Oh, God, he thought. She's touching me and looking at me like that, and mother Mary, I don't think I'll ever get used to having her look at me that way when she's touching me. He twisted his hips against the bottom sheet as he felt himself getting hard again. Damn, woman, he thought. I can't believe we waited this long. But I don't wanna wait any longer—not this morning. "But, uhhhh, if you're really into it, how about we skip the admiring and go straight to worshipping since I've, uhhh, I've got some other parts that are in pretty sore need of your attention." He threw the sheets and covers off of him as he looked at her and saw her eyes darken in a matter of a few short moments.
His last words had barely dissolved into a snicker before Brennan leaned over and covered his mouth with her kiss. As their tongues twirled together in the space between them, glancing off one another as he moaned into her kiss, she felt a surge of want pulse through her before she reluctantly pulled her mouth from his. Brennan sat up and inched back until she was seated between Booth's knees, which fell apart to make room for her as he watched her move and realized what she was doing. She noted his lazy grin and arched a wicked eyebrow as she stroked her thumb over the underside of his growing arousal, smiling herself at the soft sigh that passed from his lips at the contact. She closed her fingers around him and pumped him, although such a thing was hardly necessary since he was already rock hard in her hand.
After a few strokes, she licked her lips and bent down, dragging her tongue around the underside of his tip before taking him into her mouth. A longer, louder sigh issued from him followed by a moan as she took him all the way in, her nose twitching a little at feeling the tickle of his crisp curls. She sucked him gently, wiggling the point of her tongue along the underside of him as she worked her mouth over him. Brennan felt his fingers of his right hand thread through her hair as she glanced out of the corner of her eye and saw him fist the sheets with his left, and though her mouth was more than occupied, her cheeks rose in a smile as she savored the knowledge of how she was affecting him.
"Ohhhhhh," he sighed. "Mmmmm..." He cupped his hand around the side of her head and tried to slow her movements as he felt the coiling sensation in his belly signal that he was already beginning to spend towards a release. "Bones," he whispered. "Baby...ohhh..." He released a slow breath through pursed lips as she continued to work him over with her mouth. "Oh my God, baby, that feels so good, but...ohhhhh, damn...if you don't...ahhhhh, fuck!" He stroked his fingertips along her scalp to encourage her to let him go, struggling more with every second to formulate an intelligent thought into a coherent utterance. "Bones, I...you've gotta...ohhh..." He rubbed his thumb over her temple and gently pushed her head away as she released him with a soft pop.
"Mmmmm," was all she said as she moved up to straddle him once more, hovering as she lined herself up over him.
Booth lolled his head to the side as he watched her slowly lower herself onto him. She sucked in a sharp breath between her teeth as she felt him fill her up, and for a minute just sat there, still, as she looked down at the broad, golden expanse of his chest. For his part, he leaned his head back into the pillow as he felt himself suddenly enveloped by her silky wet warmth, and he squeezed his eyes shut for the moment it took him to collect himself again.
"Fuck," he hissed as she leaned forward, bracing her hands on his forearms as he held onto her hips. She began to move, rolling her hips back and forth as she stroked herself over him, slowly retreating from him before swallowing him up again. She watched with a wicked grin as his face slackened each time he entered her, seemingly as if the brief moments her rocking movement caused him to withdraw pained him, and the pain was instantly eased by the soft, silky sensation of her body enveloping him once more.
"Ohhhh," Brennan moaned as she felt her release begin to coil ever more tightly in her belly each time she felt his hard, thick length fill her up. "Ohhhh, God, Booth..."
Booth squeezed her hips gently in his hands as he watched her forehead uncrease and her mouth hang open loosely as her sighs and moans became louder and more insistent. "God, Bones," he whispered. "Come on, baby..."
Brennan felt herself fall into a flat spin as she was overcome by a sense of weightlessness, and a wave of lightheadedness crashed over her. She gasped slightly and abruptly ceased her rocking motion as she looked down at him, her brow suddenly creased as a certain feeling of dark heaviness brought the freefall of her ecstasy to a halt.
It was almost as if as soon as she felt it—if such a thing were even possible, perhaps he felt it even a microsecond before she did—he, too, knew that something was wrong. Her rhythm stopped just for a split second as she tried half-heartedly to recover and the futility of her efforts made her sudden shift in behavior even more glaring. After a moment, she stopped moving all together, and her body tensed as she opened her eyes and looked away from him.
"What's wrong?" Booth whispered, kneading his thumbs into her fleshy hips, hoping that his efforts might coax her back from whatever place she had suddenly gone to without him.
"Nothing," she began to say before he sighed heavily.
"Liar," he said, hoping that the gentleness in his voice might soothe the sting of the single word that he'd uttered. "Come on, Bones—tell me what's wrong. You've never lied to me before, so why start now?" He watched her flushed cheeks blanch a half-shade as an emotion he could not read flickered behind her pale eyes. "Bones," he whispered, bringing his hands around to caress the silky skin of her lower back. "Please...talk to me."
"This wasn't how this was supposed to be," she finally managed to tell him, her voice strained to the point that Booth had to struggle to make out the faintness of the words she'd spoken. "It wasn't—us...I-I...I have to do better than I did before if I'm going to make this...us...if we're going to work. I have to do better."
"Better than you did before?" he asked, his brow knit in confusion as he struggled to follow the circuitous path of her thoughts. "What we're doing right now, Bones—talking, trusting, being open—that's how we'll make this work. We'll make this work..and it's going to be epic."
"I know," she said, cutting him off. "I know...and I feel so stupid because we just talked about this...but, it's—it's so hard to explain, Booth. Knowing what I need to do and actually doing it where emotions are concerned...I thought—I thought that if I made my peace with the fact that I loved you and told you, and we finally realized that we were in the same place at the same time and felt the same way about one another and there was nothing to stop us from being together, that I should be able to trust that...trust you...and I do. I do, and I want to...and I do. But, what I don't know if I can do is if I trust myself. And...and I know...I know that if I can't trust myself that none of this is going to work—but, I don't know what to do about that. I don't know what to do or how to fix it, but I know I need to, and I know I have to try harder than I did so that...so that we're together, and we can—"
"Stop," he whispered, suddenly cutting her off as he leaned towards her and pressed a kiss to her lips. When he pulled away, she opened her mouth to speak, but he shook his head to cut her off. "Bones, please...baby. Just for a moment, just—stop, okay? You're rambling, and I can't keep up with you sometimes on my best day, let alone when I'm hungover and inside you. So, just—please...I'm begging ya here...just...for me...just stop for a minute, okay?"
"If I stop," she began slowly, hesitation again causing her voice to waver. "If I stop...and I don't fix this, I'll break us, Booth. I'll screw up and break us and things...our chance. It'll be gone." She stopped and sighed before she finally raised her anxious gaze to meet his. "We were lucky enough to get a second opportunity after that night at the Hoover. We almost missed it, and but for you possessing more foresight and tenacity than me, we almost missed it again, Booth. Even...even if the universe contains infinite possibilities and outcomes, even I'm certain that no outcome between us would be lucky enough to manifest the possibility of occurring a third time when we've already had two chances to make things right and...and to make things work between us."
"We're not gonna miss anything, Bones," he said, his voice low and even as he spoke. "We're here, alright? We're not missing anything. We're gonna be fine. But you've gotta have faith, Bones. Faith in me, faith in youself, and faith in us—I know it's hard for you to let go of that runaway freight train of logic, but you've just gotta. Logic and reason aren't gonna get us there, babe. Faith and trust—that's the ticket on this ride, okay?"
"You've always had a stronger belief in things...even me...that I ever had." Brennan laughed softly at the irony of his words. "But, you...as much as you know me, Booth, I know myself pretty damn well, and unless I know how to fix me, then I will break this thing that's between us. And, if there's one thing that I know...one thing my dream taught me, it was how fragile it is...and how fragile I am if I lose it. So, I can't...I can't let that happen. I can't become the woman I was in that dream. She was anger and brittle and sad—so sad, and so lonely."
"You're not her," he said, the simplicity of his statement startling Brennan a bit as he looked at her. "You're not her. And there's nothin' to fix, Bones. You're not broken. You're not."
"You don't know that," she countered. "You can't know that."
"Yes, yes, I do," he volleyed back. "I do know it, Bones...just as sure as I know my own name or I know that—well, remember, Bones? Daisies, daffodils, jupiter? I know those things because I know you...maybe even better than you know you sometimes, and if there's one thing I know, baby, well I know this—you aren't her, and you never could be."
"How do you know that?" Brennan said, a bit of hope creeping into her voice. "How can you know that?"
"I just do," he said with a smile softening his handsome face. "Believe me, Bones—I just do."
"Booth," she said, her face tightening as some of the frustration she was feeling at his stubborn insistence crept through to furrow her brow. "This isn't something that I can just take at face value, here...I have to be careful—we have to be careful...so, so careful. Because...I can't take a gamble on this point. I can't risk it. I can't risk us. I can't take that risk and lose you. Not again. I just can't."
"Bones," he sighed. "Listen...this...us...how we feel about each other. Love, Bones? It's always a risk. Why do you think it's so fucking awesome? It's because the risk to lose everything is so great...the potential price is so high."
"But—"
"No," he said again, cutting her off. "No...you're not winning this point, Bones, so just deal with it. I'm right, and you're wrong, and if you say you trust me, trust us...then do it. You gotta do it, baby. I know you're scared, alright? And I know you're trying to figure out how to do what you need to do to make things work, but I swear, Bones—you're already doing it."
She stared at him for a moment and then furrowed her brow as she said, "Explain."
"It's simple," he smiled. "You're here...with me...now. That's all you need to do to make things work between us—"
"No," she said again, shaking her head in a way that caused Booth to sigh in exasperation at her stubbornness himself. "No—you're wrong, Booth. There's more to it than that..."
"Why?" he asked, his voice again sharp. "Why does there have to be more?"
"Because!" she suddenly snapped. "You didn't see what I did to you...in my dream. I used you...I just...that angry woman in that dream took the best things about you and used them up, and in the end, she wasn't even happy. She was scared and alone and lost, Booth. She...no, I ruined you for no serviceable purpose...and if that happened then, it can happen again. I'll hurt you. I'll take what I can from you, beat you down so I don't feel so scared around you anymore, and all in the name of controlling a situation that won't make either one of us really satisfied or happy in the end—at least, not really."
"But, Bones," he whispered, pressing his lips together firmly as he struggled to figure out how to explain himself. "It's not like that. You can't take anything from me that I'm not willing to give you." A soft smile broke across his face. "And, Bones—I can't take anything from you that you aren't ready to give to me. What happened in that dream...it wasn't real. It was...just a dream. But this..." He gently squeezed her hips with his fingertips. "This is real. This is us. Not that dream, baby. This." He swiveled his pelvis forward and thrust up into her, eliciting an involuntary moan from her. "This is real? Feel that? I know you do. I know you can feel me...so that's how you know—that's how you know what's real and what isn't."
"But...whether it's the dream or not," she finally groaned, still fighting him with everything she had although an insistent voice was growing louder and louder in her mind to just give in and enjoy what she could as he moved in her. "I'm still the constant, Booth. I'm real...and my insecurities are real...and my actions are real...and I don't know how to change to fix things."
"What if it's not a question of you changing yourself in order to make things the way you want them?" he asked, not sure in that moment what exactly he meant by his own words. "You've had your hands on the wheel all these years, Bones—hell, both of us have—and all that control and intent, all those plans and lines, look at where it's gotten us? What if the real answer is that we need to let it ride—you know, to just let things happen, and not to overthink it? Let things take their course, and...you know, let us see if we can let the things that happen change us, if we need changing, instead of trying to change ourselves to suit the things we want to happen." He paused, narrowing his eyes as he thought about what he'd said. "Give it a chance, Bones. Give us a chance. Don't worry about changing. Let's give ourselves a chance to enjoy where we are right now, huh?"
She paused for a minute as she studied him and then she realized that he was right. Booth's right, she thought. About this? He's always been right. "I do tend to get into trouble when I overthink things, don't I?" she said, a small smile tugging at the edge of her lips, and for the first time since she'd awakened, her voice seemed less heavy, and more carefree—at least as carefree as a woman like Brennan ever was.
"Heh," he chuckled. "We both have, Bones. I've done more than my share of that over the years. For a guy that leads with his gut in every other part of his life, I've out-thought myself more times than you can shake a stick at."
"Are you saying I get you to think more?" Brennan asked, arching an eyebrow at him, the light teasing in her voice becoming more and more pronounced with each word she spoke.
"Yeah," he laughed. "You do. And most of the time, that's a good thing. But sometimes there's a time for thinking, and sometimes I think there's a time for doing, Bones, and right now? Mmmmm. It's a time to be doing something, I think." Booth waggled his eyebrows as a smile broke across his face, and he shifted inside her again.
"Oh?" she asked, the lightness of her mood seeming to bolster her confidence as well when she felt him move inside her "Why's that again?"
"You know why," he murmured. "You want what I have to give you...and I sure as hell want what you have to give me. So, come on."
"Come, huh?" she quirked her eyebrow again at his words.
"Damn right," he said, punctuating his reply with a light upward thrust of his hips.
"Mmmm," she said. "I think...I think you might just have to show me," Brennan told him quietly. She stopped, and her gaze became serious for another moment as she said softly, "You're going to have to prove it, Booth."
"Hmmm?" he asked, half distracted once more by the feel of her. "Huh?"
"I said," she repeated. "That...you're going to have to prove it to me—prove to me that you're..." She gazed deeply into his brown eyes, which burned dark but glittered in the half-light like points of obsidian. "Prove to me that you're willing to take what I can give you."
"Yes," he answered, his voice low as he thrust up into her once more before rolling them over. "I want to," he said.
"Really?" she blinked in surprise.
"Oh, God, Bones," he groaned. "How can you even ask me that? Always, baby. Always."
"Ohhhhh," she moaned.
"How about you?" he grinned. "You all in?"
"Yes," she said, quietly, but firmly, as she let her hands roam from his bony hips and narrow waist, up the side of his chest to palm his pecs, then up and over his shoulders, her fingers cupping his round, firm deltoids again before letting her hands skate down the broad plane of his back to finally rest where his lower back met his muscular ass. "All in...I'm...I'm all in...Take it," she said. "Take me. Now. We're here. Let's do it. Take, Booth...take."
Booth's mouth fell open as he thought to reply, but at hearing her words, he knew no words were needed. They were, he knew, in a space beyond words, in a domain bounded only by touch, and sound, and movement.
And so he began to move.
He looked down at her, her cheeks apple-shaped once more as a smile curved the corners of her lips, and he felt himself drawn into the depths of her gray-green eyes, which seemed to have darkened to the color of the surf on a cold winter's day. Booth rolled his hips back, withdrawing a little before pressing into her, slowly but firmly as he felt her silky folds part for him and a low, breathy sigh pass from her lips. He looked down at where they were joined, where his dark, nearly black curls met her warm, red-tinged auburn ones as he anchored himself as deeply inside of her as he could. He drew his hips back and entered her, again and again, settling into a natural rhythm, his movements set by the cadence of her rising sighs and peaking moans, the gentle swaying of her breasts reminding him, for a brief instant, of a metronome. Soon, however, her breaths and moans became ragged as his rhythm became more irregular, a subtle signal that the threads of his self-control were beginning to unravel as he felt himself swallowed up in the feeling of her.
"You were wrong about one thing, Bones...just one. There's no taking here," he whispered as he stroked into her, a little surprised that the thought he'd formed in his mind had managed to make itself heard in an intelligible form. "Not between us. No taking—only giving...only giving..."
Her hands fell away from his round, muscular backside as she felt her release begin to slowly coil behind her navel, tightening and becoming more intense with each of his powerful strokes. She skimmed her fingers over his taut forearms, hesitating briefly as he drew back and jerked into her with a particularly hard, grunt-punctuated stroke.
"Ohhhhh, Booooth," she moaned, gasping as she felt him move his hands, one at a time, to pin hers to the mattress. "Ohhh, God..."
"No taking," Booth whispered again. "Just us..." he punctuated his words with another stroke. "You," he told her, his voice rough with want. "Me," he said, edging out of her. "Us," he continued, moving his hips forward as he pushed back into her. "Just us...giving, Bones. Only giving..."
He leaned forward, pressing her hands against the sheet as he moved in and out of her, each stroke slowly building in intensity and speed with each thrust me made, coming harder and following faster on the heels of the one that came before it. She saw his forehead crease as he intensified his focus, seemingly putting every ounce of mental and physical energy he possessed into possessing her and bringing them both to the brink of release.
Booth suddenly slowed his movements, briefly pausing as he looked down on her admiringly. "Bones," he whispered, his mouth hanging open for a moment as if he were going to say something else, then released her hands. "Balance," he said. "Equals...in everything. You...me...equals, remember?"
She nodded and smiled at his words. A thought occurred to her, and she used her free hands to her advantage. Snaking them around his waist, she let her palms caress the muscular swell of his ass. She pressed the palm of each hand into his muscles, and the movement obviously surprised him slightly as his slow movements almost stopped altogether. Brennan smiled evilly as she took advantage of his surprise and rolled them onto their sides.
After a minute of shifting and slight adjustments, she lifted her gaze to meet his and nodded. "Now."
"Huh?"
"Now," was all she could say, her impending orgasm coming closer and closer to her grasp.
"Oh—" he grunted. With a wink at her, he stroked the curve of her hip with one hand as he brushed an errant lock of sweat-damp hair from her forehead with the other. "Now?" he asked again, although such a question was hardly needed.
She merely nodded sharply once in response, but punctuated her response as she took her right hand and reached around to the exposed side of his body that she could touch. Raking her nails along his skin, she felt him shiver slightly at her efforts.
"Oh, God, Bones," he whispered, sucking a sharp breath between his teeth as he felt her gently scrape his skin. He drew his hips back slightly and pressed into her, closely watching her face as he re-established a rhythm, pulling her tightly against him each time he rocked into her. A long sigh escaped his lips as he felt himself begin to spend towards release. He couldn't help but smile as Brennan's leg, which had been loosely draped over the back of his thighs, curled more tightly around him, pulling them even closer as she met each of his strokes with one of her own.
"We get there together," she said quietly, her last word swallowed in a gasp as their bodies met in a soft, slow-rolling collision that sent a pulse of pleasure surging through her as Booth's hips ground against her with a just enough delicious pressure to return her to the very edge of release.
"Together," he mumbled in agreement, reaching his hand between them and, finding her swollen bud glistening with the moisture of her desire, began to make small, tight circles with his thumb as they continued to rock against one another. "Yeah, baby—together.
"Ohhhh," she moaned at feeling the twin sensations of him moving inside of her and his calloused thumb pleasuring her. "Ahhhh...ohhhh...ohh, my God...Booooothh..."
Booth rolled his hips back, sliding over Brennan's high thread-count sheet as he thrust hard into her. He heard her gasp a couple of times as he punctuated his thrusts with a last twirl of his thumb on her sensitive flesh. "That's it, baby," he whispered with a smile as she craned her head back against the pillow, exposing the long curve of her neck as he leaned in, pressing a wet, sucking kiss against her smooth, ivory skin as he felt her moan vibrate against his lips as he felt her body tighten and then shatter, quivering around him as she rode out her release. "God, I love you," he whispered into her neck as he, too, broke, thrusting into her one last time as his warm seed pulsed out of him. "I love you, Bones...so much...so much...so very much."
Slowly, looking up at him, as she felt his warmth course into her, Brennan couldn't help but smile as she nodded and said, "I know...and I do, too, Booth. I love you...and trust you...and I know...I think, that is, we'll be okay."
"Yeah?" he blinked at her happily. "And, how's that again?"
Nodding slowly, "Because...if we're together...than anything's possible...including me taking something this important on a little bit of faith."
Booth could only offer her a chuckle in response before he tightened his grip around her and pulled her close for another kiss.
Epilogue - Six Months Later
"Special Agent Booth," the reporter said, extending her hand with a smile. "It's good to see you again."
Booth arched his eyebrow and shook her hand.
"Ms. Finn," he said, suppressing a smirk as he recalled chastising her five years earlier about using the Federal Bureau of Investigations as a springboard for a Hollywood screenwriting career. "Welcome to the Jeffersonian."
"Please," she said with a flash of her thin, perfectly-waxed brown eyebrows. "We're old friends, aren't we? Call me Trisha."
"Okay," he laughed, stuffing his hand back in his pocket as he led her through the sliding glass door at the entrance to the Jeffersonian Medico-Legal Lab. "How long have you been with the Washington Post?" he asked as she followed him past the forensic platform and towards Brennan's office in the corner of the large room.
"Six months," she replied. "Since the last time we met, a lot's changed for me...some bad, but mostly good. I left the FBI three years ago and took a job at the crime desk at the Ventura County Star. After a year, I landed a spot with the L.A. Times. But, after I was there for about a year, I got kind of tired of L.A., and heard through a contact that the Post was looking for someone. A few phone calls were made, a few emails exchanged...a resume was submitted, and then...well, I got lucky and the rest is history."
"Mmmm," Booth said noncommittally as he gestured for her to walk into Brennan's office. Finn glanced around the warmly-lit space, arching an eyebrow at the tribal-looking furnishings and knick-knacks on the bookshelves. "Have a seat," he said, jerking his chin in the direction of the couch.
"Okay," she said with a faint smile, setting her purse down on the floor and pulling a spiral-bound notebook out as she crossed her legs. "So, you know the reason I'm here? My editor told me he told you that he thinks there's at least one good story in this case about the doctor you investigated...maybe a series, depending on how things go."
"A series?" Booth asked, clearly impressed. "Wow, really?"
"Yeah," Finn said with a firm nod. "Depending on how the first feature goes, it appears to be a fascinating story. So, what I figured is that we'd start with you just telling me whatever pops into your mind about this case…the Lauren Eames case." She flipped a couple of pages in her notebook as if checking her notes, then looked back up at Booth before slowly uncrossing and recrossing her legs with a slight shrug of her shoulders. "She was a doctor, correct?" she asked, sliding her pen along the cleft between her lips.
"Right," Booth said. Awwwww, crap, he thought, clearing his throat as he stood in front of Brennan's bookshelf, his hands in his pockets as he stared at an imaginary scuff mark on his newly-shined wingtips. She's not really gonna do this now, right? Not in here. Not now. Come on, Finn. Pretend to be a professional, even if only for a half-hour.
"Yes, she was regarded as the Beltway's best cardiac surgeon." He looked up at her and quirked his eyebrow as he watched her lips close around the top of her ballpoint pen. "Actually, she was one of the best heart surgeons on the whole East Coast. Very smart, really dedicated, extremely talented. She published all over the place, and as I've understood it was always at the top of her game, giving papers at conferences and making other public presentations as such...to say nothing of her charity work. She was...she was an incredible person on paper...and a hell of a cardiac surgeon, you know? She seems to have been much sought-out for consultations in tough cases and stuff like that."
Finn shifted her hips on the couch and turned towards him, letting her eyes survey him from head to toe, her gaze hesitating as it came to his waist and settled on his Cocky belt buckle. "Hmmm," she murmured as her eyes darted back to meet his. She reached up and tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear and licked her lips, then smiled at him and said, "So she was one of those all-work-and-no-play types? That's always a pity. I mean, you've gotta leave time to cut loose, let it all hang out, right? I mean, what's the point of working your fingers to the bone if you don't take the time to hit happy hour. Or, maybe, candlelit-dinners followed by a little dirty dancing, if you know what I mean. That kind of stuff when you go off the clock. You know what I mean?"
I would sooner cut off my own arm than dignify that little number with anything approaching a response, Booth thought. He glanced towards the office door and wondered where his partner was as his eyes then darted to the clock on Brennan's desk.
"Kind of sad, isn't it?" he told Finn, reaching up and running his left hand through his hair, unnerved by the prospect that Brennan would walk in, observe Finn's obvious flirting, and launch into some form of outer orbit. He resolved to steer the conversation back onto the road from which it threatened to veer. "It actually made the investigation more difficult, the fact that she was a bit isolated, socially. Usually, you can go and interview people's friends and family to find out more about how they lived, day-to-day, what they did in their spare time and so forth. This woman didn't really have many friends, and she worked all the time. She didn't actually, you know, have much of any spare time as far as we can tell. She lived a very...solitary life, it seems."
"Oh," she said, not breaking eye contact with him, and instantly both knew they were no longer talking about the case. "That is unfortunate." She smiled and sat back on the sofa, then crossed and uncrossed her legs in a way that demonstrated how perilously short a length her navy-blue skirt had been tailored to. "A real shame...or pity, even."
Suddenly, a shuffling outside Brennan's office caught their attention. Both sets of eyes turned towards the door, and Booth's head swiveled and his eyes lit up as he finally spotted his tardy partner. For her part, Brennan seemed nonplussed as she walked into the office, peeling off her latex gloves and tossing them into the wastebasket near the door as she approached Booth and stared at him in askance.
"Bones!" he blurted out as he watched her quickly unbutton her blue lab coat and hang it on the coat rack next to the bookshelf. Finn's eyes narrowed at the arrival of the famous forensic anthropologist, and she smirked as Brennan turned around to face her.
"Dr. Brennan," she said, standing up from the sofa and taking a couple of steps towards Brennan before extending her hand in greeting, retreating somewhat from her earlier casual manner she'd used with Booth.
"Yes," Brennan said with a brow firmly knit in confusion. She ignored Finn's extended hand and turned to Booth. "Who is she, and why is she in my office, Booth?"
Booth cocked his head as he walked over to her and, placing his hand on her hip, kissed her gently on the mouth. Her scowl softened as soon as her lips met hers and she returned his kiss, a quiet hum sounding in her throat before he pulled away.
"Come on, Bones," he said. "We talked about this—you know, how the Post was sending somebody over...a reporter—to interview us about the Lauren Eames case."
"We've met before, Dr. Brennan," Finn said, interjecting herself in their conversation, her voice edged with a sharpness that tottered between disappointment and annoyance. "Don't you remember?"
For a split second, Brennan studied Finn's face as if she expected to see some other blonde journalist in her place. Brennan's eyes quickly darted back to Booth as she gave him a blank. if not slightly panicked look.
It's not her, Brennan told herself as she tried to remain calm. It wasn't real...and I didn't lose him. It's not here...I'm not Lauren Eames...and whoever this woman is...she isn't Booth's girlfriend. I have trust...I have faith. So—
"No," Brennan said insistently with a shake of her head. "I'm quite sure I've never met you before, Miss Finn."
"It's been a few years," Finn said with a faint smirk, "but surely you recall when you and Agent Booth here came out to Los Angeles a few years ago when they found that call-girl buried in the sand at LAX? I worked that case with you. You really don't remember? I was the Special Agent assigned by the L.A. field office to work with you two for the duration of the investigation."
Suddenly, Finn's face clicked in Brennan's mind, and she gave the blonde woman a sharp nod. "Yes, of course," she said simply as she began to walk towards her desk. "I remember you now. You're the breathtakingly opportunistic agent that was always harping on about me taking a look at some screenplay or other such thing you'd been working on."
"Okay, wait," Booth said, rubbing the stubble on the bottom of his chin as he stepped into the space between them. He saw Finn's eyes widen a little and the rosiness drain quickly from her cheeks the moment she saw the slim white gold band on his left ring finger. "Let's start over, alright? Dr. Brennan, this is Ms. Finn of the Washington Post. Ms. Finn, this is Dr. Brennan of the Jeffersonian, whom I'm sure you remember is my partner."
Whatever color was left in Finn's cheeks completely faded as she heard Booth's introduction. Brennan noted how she blanched and stepped forward to extend her hand. Finn's eyes skated from the anthropologist's extended hand to a framed photo on her bookshelf—showing Booth and Brennan, each dressed in khaki shorts, T-shirts, sunglasses, and hiking boots, with her seated on a boulder between Booth's legs, his arms wrapped tight around her waist, and his lips pressed against the side of her forehead—and back again to Brennan.
"Very well," Brennan said as she smirked at Booth and then turned to the reporter. I'll deal with you later, she thought evilly as she shot her husband a look of warning that made it clear he'd pay later when they were alone. "It's very nice to see you again, Ms. Finn," Brennan said with a crooked smile. "So, you're here to talk about the Eames case? How may I be of assistance to you?"
~The End~ (for scenario #7)
-TBC- (for the series)
A/N: Hmmmm. So, like Jack Nicholson said in Chinatown, "How 'bout them apples?"
Did you like that one? We hope you did.
However, because—despite the outwardly cocky tendencies that the noisier member of Dharmasera seems to have *Lesera128 smacks dharmamonkey in the back of the head*—we really do want feedback. *dharmamonkey rubs the back of her head and mutters under her breath about Lesera128 being the shameless one*
What did you think of this one?
We've got another VBI written. "He Said, She Said" is a genuine Dharmasera first—a 100% first person narrative, written in alternative Booth/Brennan points of view. It's sexy and, in our opinion, friggin' hilarious. Episode tag "Harbingers in the Fountain." Basic concept is that B&B go out for drinks to celebrate his return to FBI active status. They wake up the next morning in his bed, both of them half-clothed, neither of them remembering a thing about what happened the night before. The first part of "He Said, She Said" is basically ready to post. If, you know, people are interested. Which interest only really registers on the writers' radars when we hear from our readers. ("Blackmail your readers?" ... "Yes." ... "We don't like it." ... "We're fairly certain you're not supposed to.") *snort*
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