Booth surfaced to a sleepy consciousness when Brennan slipped out of bed the next morning. He lay there for a few minutes longer, eyes closed against the pale light seeping through the windows, vaguely aware of activity from the bathroom – the toilet flushing, water running in the sink, cabinets and drawers opening and closing – and finally sat up, yawning and swinging his feet to the floor when a much louder sound of water heralded the start of the shower. He scratched his head, and rubbed at the heavy scrape of beard darkening his jawline, then raised his arms toward the ceiling and stretched until his back crackled. Then he looked at the bed behind him, at the sheets tangled and twisted into knots, and at the pillows lying so close together that one was half on top of the other.
And he smiled. She was his, and he was hers. Finally.
Let no man put asunder . . .
The words of the biblical wedding ceremony rang as clearly as if someone in the room had spoken them out loud. Oh, he knew that it was much too soon to bring up marriage. He also knew that given Brennan's oft-stated opinions on the subject, he would have to bring her around to the idea slowly. Probably very slowly. He shrugged inwardly. She was his, and he was hers. That's all that mattered. Maybe she'd be ready to talk about a wedding by the time Parker was bringing grandkids to visit . . .
Parker.
The thought of being separated from his son by miles of land and ocean throbbed with renewed pain. A litany of solutions - none of them good - ran through his mind before he shoved them aside. Dwelling on it wouldn't change Rebecca's mind. He stood up, wincing as his battered feet readjusted to the weight of his body after an evening's rest. With the trace of a limp in his stride, he headed to the extra bathroom down the hall.
A few minutes later, he was in Brennan's bathroom, opening the steamy glass door of her shower. There was plenty of room for the two of them, and an oversized rectangular shower-plate that distributed enough water to cover them both but Booth still crowded into her, holding her wet body close with one arm wrapped around her waist while he bent his head under the hot spray, then tipped it back to fill his open mouth. He swished the water around for a few seconds, then spat into the drain at their feet. When he looked up, Brennan was studying him with avid curiosity.
"Morning breath," he explained, adding a crooked smile that made her eyes gleam for a completely different reason. "Remind me to bring a toothbrush over."
"I keep a supply in the guest bathroom."
"I'll remember that next time." The words filled him with a bone-deep satisfaction. Next time. Because there would be a next time. Because she was his, and he was hers.
A similar feeling of satisfaction rose at the obvious signs of Brennan's desire for him. Heavy-lidded, Booth watched her gaze trace the path of a rivulet of water as it slid over one muscled shoulder and down his chest. Air turned to fire in his lungs when she leaned forward to follow the same trail with her tongue.
He was just as entranced by his own view. Framed by a waterfall of dark, silky hair, her eyes were brighter than ever, shining and blue within the spikes of her damp lashes, and the body under his hands, the curves he now had intimate knowledge of, was wet and slick.
He watched a bead of moisture gather at the pebbled tip of one breast; when his head bent to lap up the drop before it fell, she purred with sensual enjoyment and cupped the back of his head with her hand as he sucked the nipple into his mouth.
"If you continue in such a fashion, we're going to be late."
"So?"
He spun her away from him. Braced with her palms flat on the shower wall, she leaned forward and arched her back, offering herself to the rigid length pressed against her. Booth laid one hand over hers against the glass, and used the other to position himself at the entrance to her body. When he was ready, he fastened his mouth against the side of her neck and with one hard thrust, filled her completely. Their earthy moans almost harmonized. Eyes closed, Brennan gave herself up to the pleasure of their lovemaking.
"My sentiments exactly."
.
.
.
She wasn't late, at least not by any standards other than her own usual early-morning routine. By the time Angela found her shortly after 9:00 am, Brennan had a set of partial remains from Limbo laid out on an examining table, and was on her third phone call with a family law specialist from a list provided by her own team of attorneys. Despite Booth's dismissal of the idea the night before, she was determined to find out for him what options he had.
Angela being Angela, she eavesdropped shamelessly on Brennan's side of the call. By the time it ended, she was frowning.
"What's going on? Is something wrong with Baby Booth?"
Brennan dropped the phone into the pocket of her labcoat. "Not physically, no. Rebecca has decided to take a position with a firm in London. She's moving in July, and taking Parker with her."
Angela's reaction was much as Brennan's had been. "Can she do that? Doesn't Booth get a say in where Parker lives?"
"His rights are unclear. They don't have a formal custody agreement."
Angela winced in sympathy. "Poor Booth. He adores that kid."
Brennan hesitated. Toying idly with the damaged femur of the remains laid out beside her, she peeked at Angela from beneath her lashes.
"He came to see me last night, after she gave him the news. He . . . stayed. He spent the night."
Angela's keen gaze sharpened. One eyebrow arched high. "He spent the night or . . ." She paused deliberately. " . . . he spent the night?"
Brennan's nonverbal response was an answer all by itself. Pink blossomed under her cheeks and a smile, faintly smug and definitely sexual, curved her lips. Angela gaped at her with her mouth hanging open in shock.
"You had sex with Booth?" She gasped as the truth set in. "YOU DID! Oh my God! You had sex with Booth!" Too excited to stand still, she practically bounced on her toes. "Tell me everything! And I mean everything! Come on," she waved frantically. "Details! Now!"
Brennan hesitated. "I'm not sure that's appropriate," she demurred. "Booth might prefer that I be discreet . . ."
Angela was having none of that. She, too, had waited over six years for this moment. She slapped one palm down on the examining table with enough force to set a few of the smaller bones rattling. "My sex life is scattered all over your books, Brennan! You owe me!" A sharp nod added an exclamation point to the reminder. Her hands fluttered again, coaxing the secrets to spill. "So, how was it? It was good, right? I mean, obviously. Of course it was . . ." She stopped, suddenly apprehensive. "It was, right? Good? It was good? Tell me it was good."
Brennan considered her answer for a moment. "Well, actually the first time was rather quick."
Angela's mouth snapped shut. She blinked rapidly. "Fir . . . fir . . . first time?" After a little cough to clear her throat, she pasted a patently false look of casual interest on her face. "How . . . how . . . how many . . . how many times were there?"
Brennan once again took her time answering. "Using the male orgasm as a unit of measurement?"
Angela bit the inside of her cheek hard enough to taste blood, and still had to cover her mouth to rein in an almost hysterical impulse to laugh. "Sure," she managed, the words high-pitched and strangled. "Why not?"
Breathing a sigh of relief, Brennan smiled. "Good, because I lost count of my own." Before Angela could process that interesting tidbit, she added, "Three. And of course, this morning . . . in the shower."
The temptation to share the salacious detail was too much to resist. Brennan had never had a friend like Angela before, never been free to indulge in the guilty pleasure of girl-talk over sexual conquests. The reaction was everything she hoped for. Giggling, Angela jumped and squealed, and leaned forward to slap her arm.
"In the shower? You bad girl! You bad, bad girl!"
Now thoroughly enjoying herself, Brennan dropped her voice to a confiding whisper. "He has excellent stamina. And his oral sex skills are - -"
In a moment of disastrously unfortunate timing, Hodgins wandered into the room just at that moment, frowning at the papers he held in one hand.
"Angie, I think your numbers are off on this - -"
Angela pivoted on one foot with more grace than might normally be seen from a woman entering her 36th week of pregnancy, and pointed straight at the doorway through which he'd just entered. "Get out," she ordered.
Taken aback by the peremptory command, Hodgins stopped in his tracks. "I just wanted to ask - -"
Angela rudely cut him off again. "I don't care. I love you, Jack, but get out."
"But - -"
"GET OUT!" She stomped one foot in a fit of temper. "GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT!"
Hodgins began to back out of the room. With no clue as to what was going on, he moved at a snail's speed and spoke even more slowly, as if he were dealing with something that might explode at any moment - or with someone deranged.
"Okay. Honey. My love. I get it. This is one of those hormone things, right? I just want you to know that you're beautiful. And I love you. And you're going to be a great mom. And you're beautiful."
A glimmer of a smile played around her lips but Angela only pointed again toward the door. "Out. Right now."
When he finally disappeared from view, still creeping slowly backward, she turned back to Brennan as if nothing had happened.
"Okay, now about Booth's oral sex skills . . ."
Alas, it was not to be.
"What is going on? What was all that yelling about?"
Cam's appearance was too much for Angela to take. She threw her hands up in frustration. "Can't we get two minutes alone? What is it with you people?"
Cam reacted as if she'd been stung. "You people? As in, YOUR BOSS?"
It was the last straw for Angela, who saw all her hopes of hearing the juicy details of Brennan's night with Booth swirling down the drain. She stuck her nose in the air and sniffed with icy hauteur.
"Okay, fine. You know what, I quit." She grabbed Brennan's hand and dragged her past a sputtering Cam. "And Brennan quits, too."
"What? No . . ." Alarmed, Brennan tugged at her hand and shook her head when Cam looked at her with shock. "Angela, I didn't . . . Dr. Saroyan, I'm not . . ."
"Alright, alright, we don't quit." Angela kept moving, pulling Brennan along with her. "We're going to lunch," she said instead, tossing the remark over her shoulder to a now absolutely bewildered Cam. "We'll be back later."
"It's barely 9:30!"
"I'm pregnant, okay? Everything's lunch!"
.
.
.
It was almost genuinely time for lunch when Angela had wrung every detail she was going to get out of Brennan about the night before and although she didn't share those little nuggets with anyone else, her behavior made it obvious to everyone that something of importance had happened. She hugged Brennan randomly, sometimes adding a squeal of happiness, and sometimes just patting her cheeks and smiling like a kid meeting the real Santa Claus. And she came back with questions so frequently that at the end of the day, when Brennan registered movement outside her office once more, she assumed it was Angela again.
It wasn't. It was Booth, carrying a huge cellophane wrapped bouquet of flowers. Surprised but happy, Brennan pushed back from her desk and crossed the room to meet him.
"I thought you were going to be in Virginia again today."
"I got back a couple of hours ago." He hesitated, an oddly shy moment that endeared him all the more to her, and offered the flowers. "These are for you."
"Thank you. They're beautiful." She took a moment to admire them. The colorful bouquet seemed to have no theme, rather it was as if Booth had simply walked into a florist's shop and chosen one of everything. Mischief twinkled in her eyes when she looked up again. "Are you going to bring me flowers every time we have intercourse?"
He laughed, as handsome as ever in the crisp dark suit. "That might get expensive."
"That's true," she agreed. Her gaze dropped to his lips. "I anticipate making love with you quite frequently."
The blatant invitation was one he was happy to accept. Careful not to crush the flowers she held, he drew her into his arms and tilted her face up to meet his. "With that kind of sweet talk, baby, you just might be right."
They'd shared dozens of kisses . . . hundreds of kisses . . . in the past few months but with the memories of the previous night behind them, the kiss they shared now felt different, fresh somehow, and weighted by a new intimacy. They reveled in the heady discovery, letting the kiss linger sweetly, savoring the moment. When Booth's head rose, his fingers trailed down her cheek.
"The flowers are because. . ." A self-deprecating grin appeared briefly. "Well, last night wasn't exactly how I pictured everything happening for us. You know, what with me crying on your shoulder and everything. I thought maybe I could make it up to you tonight. Maybe dinner?"
Brennan chastised him with a gentle look. "I will allow you to take me to dinner but you have nothing to make up for, especially not for coming to me in a moment of distress. I love you," she said, smiling when Booth did at the words that still sent a thrill through them both. "And I love Parker. I've spoken with several attorneys today. You do have options, if you'd like to hear them."
He showed no surprise that she'd taken matters into her own hands, despite his words the night before. "Yea, thanks. I would like to hear them." When she slipped out of his arms and went in search of a vase for the flowers, he stuck his hands in his pockets. After watching her for a few minutes, he cleared his throat and spoke up somewhat sheepishly. "Speaking of last night . . . I, uh, I bought a box of condoms. I wasn't really thinking clearly, not about . . . well, protection or being careful or much of anything, really. Sorry about that."
Brennan shrugged as she dropped the flowers into a tall column of cut glass and shuffled them into an artful display. "I was likewise carried away by the moment last night. I purchased a supply of condoms today, too. When was your last HIV test?"
He was expecting the blunt question. It was Brennan, after all.
"At my annual physical in November," he answered. "Full blood work, Bureau policy. And since then I've only been with Hannah."
She stepped back to admire the flowers, now sitting on the corner of her desk. "It's been almost three years since I was sexually active. I'll have a complete set of tests done when I see my gynecologist for a new prescription for birth control."
"Should we be worried . . ."
When his eyes dropped to her abdomen, Brennan shook her head. "About pregnancy? No, the risk is minimal at best. My ovulation phase doesn't begin for a few days."
"Well, just in case . . ." Grabbing her around the waist, he pulled her in close and nuzzled at her neck. "I got the jumbo size box."
Breathy amusement turned into a sensual hum when his teeth grazed a sensitive spot. "I bought two of them."
Laughter rumbled against her skin before Booth's mouth fastened on hers, open and hungry. Her hands slipped beneath his suit coat and across his back, separated from the warmth of his skin only by a thin layer of fine cotton. When her fingers dug in, he groaned, and pulled her flush against him.
Brennan nipped at the lobe of one ear. "Instead of going out, we could pick up something at Sid's and go straight home."
He was more than willing to change plans. One hand slipped low on the curve of her buttocks. "You talked me into it. If you'll pick up the food, I'll stop by my place and get a clean shirt for tomorrow."
Her tongue traced the outline of his ear. "Perhaps you should get several, and leave them at my apartment."
On fire with need, Booth held her face in his hands and rained hungry kisses on her lips. "See, this is why I love you. You're a genius."
A few minutes later, they walked through the lab, arm in arm and focused solely on each other. They were especially oblivious to the small group that gathered at the foot of the platform and watched as the couple strode through the double doors, kissing without once breaking stride.
Clark Edison was almost as surprised as Angela had been earlier. He looked from Angela to Hodgins to Cam, stammering. "Did you see . . . Does that mean . . . Are they . . ."
"Hallelujah!" Angela lowered her arms when three pairs of shocked eyes turned in her direction. "Sorry," she grinned, obviously not sorry at all. "I've been wanting to do that all day." Without warning, she held out her hand to Hodgins. "Wanna have sex?"
Surprised or not, he was game. "Always."
Cam spun around as they hurried off. "Go home first!"
They gave no sign that they'd heard her.
.
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I gotta say, these chapters are a lot more fun to write than those first few were. :-)
Thanks for reading!
