Created April 2013 - I don't own these characters or the words 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; Razztaztic, Threesquares, and Covalent Bond posts.
A/N 9/06/2015 – Happy Labor Day Weekend to the Yanks among you!
"Mmmmmph! Ooof! Sigh!"
"You okay?"
"Yes!" I snap. "I'm fine!"
"Are you sure you don't want me to…?"
"No. I'm good from here. I'll call you when I'm ready to be picked up. Or I'll have Bren bring me home."
"Okay, no problem."
For the first time since he helps me out of the car, I look into Hodgins' eyes. He really has got the most amazing eyes: soulful, thoughtful, warm, comforting, brilliant. Completely incapable of an insincere thought. There is so much going on behind those eyes, so much so that I'll never be able to fully capture on canvas all of the incredible, fantastic elements in my husband's eyes. It's just not possible.
At this moment, his eyes are round and bright and his expression offers nothing but admiration, support and love.
This man adores me.
"I love you Angie. You guys have fun!"
His hand cups my face as he pecks the side of my cheek. He grins in amusement.
Hodgins told me the other day that the "side approach kiss" will have to do, now that it's impossible to kiss me straight on. I know that's exactly what he's thinking about because – though it's really soft - I can hear that adorable chuckle that he does.
"Love you too, Babe."
I smile back as I head towards the main entrance of Bren's apartment. It's a short walk from the street, but I know that Hodgins will be watching me all the way to the front door. Probably with arms akimbo and a big goofy grin that his wife is Texas-wide full of his baby.
I stop to catch my breath at the front entrance. I turn, and yup, he's still there. With that grin.
I fucking hate him.
Don't get me wrong – I love my husband. I am a lucky girl to be with him, and I adore the Hell out of him, but if he isn't The Most Annoying Expectant Father Ever, then I don't know who is!
He's just so…proud of me! Proud of me for successfully walking along a sidewalk while pregnant.
A fucking sidewalk!
I've had my art featured in galleries and homes across the globe. My work at the Jeffersonian has helped to identify the forgotten, catch murderers, and earn me citations and recognition for the forensic advancements that I've introduced. I hold patents, for Christ's sake! But yet, this fifteen foot stroll earns me that look.
Ugh.
Nine times out of ten, a man standing there like that, with a big smug fucking grin watching a woman walk down a street is called 'leering', and it's offensive. In those cases, a woman is absolutely within her right to turn back around and slug the guy. I think the same should apply to husbands admiring their seed planting skills.
Oh, to slug Hodgins right now!
"Byeeeee!" I grin and wave to him before I enter the building.
You see, it's not that I dislike being pregnant, it's just…
Damn.
There's a couple of pregnancy zealots coming my way. You know, the ones who come at your belly with the singy 'oooooohs' and 'ohhhhs' and only marginally recognize you has the sentient human being attached to the belly...nutters.
Sigh!
So for the eighth-hundredth time since I began to show, so begins "the spiel":
…
"Yes, it's almost time!"
…
"No, I don't know the sex of the baby."
…
"Yes, I too agree that it's good to have surprises."
…
"No, I don't mind if you touch my belly."
Sigh!
I look at the two women now crouching over the flesh covered kickball that is my belly. One of them is the super-hot dog walker. The redhead that both Booth and I would love to take a crack at. Totally, top five fuckable.
Still with her hand on my belly, her partner straightens up and now is blathering on and on about how they've started looking into sperm donors, and that they're trying to decide which of them is going carry for their first pregnancy together.
I can feel Little Hodgins moving around in response to her touch.
Super-Hot gasps. "It's simply amazing," she says as she straightens up. Her eyes are plump with tears.
Super-Hot, your ass is amazing. Do you mind if I grab onto that for the next twenty-five seconds?
"Thank you so much for that." Super-Hot gushes.
"It was mostly the little one doing all the kicking, but you're welcome." I say. "Good luck to you both!" I walk away towards the elevator. OK fine, I'm waddling. While waiting for the elevator, I turn around to watch them walk hand-in-hand out the door.
I really hope that Super-Hot's partner carries first. It would be a shame to mess with that perfect ass.
Now that I think about it, I really do have a thing for asses!
I love, love, love my husband's tush. Super-Hot's obviously gets my engine going. Grayson's was delicious, Wendell's was quite lovely. Roxy's ass was the only squeezable meat that she had on her. Come to think about it, Cam's built that way, too. Bren is absolutely gorgeous and has many sweet curves, but above all else, her ass is exquisite. I have to admit, there have been more than a few times that I've let my hands bottom-linger while helping her get ready for dates over the years.
My bestie with the perfect bottom!
I am so proud of her for letting Booth finally get some action. They've got a lot of years to make up for, that big dumb genius and the man who's always been her man.
Booth's got a cute butt, too. A little white boy for my tastes, but respectable. Nothing like…
….Clark's!
Now there is a derriere for a statute. What a delectable rear he has!
Mm-mmmmm-mmph! Clark naked on a plate! Slap some melted butter on that thing, I'd tear into that butt like it was a juicy cob of summer corn. Nom, nom, nom, indeed!
I wonder if he'll let me sculpt him. His uptight-scientist bullshit persona needs a vacation. Maybe I'll reach out to Dr. Woodhouse to convince him.
Dr. Woodhouse. Yet another hot piece of ass…
God, I'm horny!
I thought that when I reached the third trimester, my libido would die back down, but no! Poor Hodgie, for every minute that I don't want to rip his head off, all I want is for him to mount me. And he always obliges. And so very well!
Sigh! I love Jack Stanley Hodgins so much!
He is so good to me. Our little baby is so lucky to have him as a Daddy. He really brings out the best parts of me. I am very lucky, indeed.
Hodgins needs this break, too. It's got to be exhausting to be around me now. Sex or bitching, that's all he's gotten from me since coming home from London.
Poor Vincent.
I miss the quirky little guy! Not as much as Hodgins. Hodgins really liked Vincent. Gilligan to his Skipper. Just like Zack, Vincent was cute and quirky and sweet.
It's about time I paid Zack a visit.
Wow, I'm not even sure that he knows about all that's happened with Vincent. He definitely doesn't know about Booth and Bren.
Hmmm, actually that may bug him a little bit. I've always thought that Booth's distraction of Bren from "pure science" was a trigger for Zack's problems. None of us truly noticed how much he needed Bren's approval and attention.
For some reason, Sweets keeps asking to come to my visits with Zack. He's got this cockamamie idea that it will be of value to Zack to see Sweets accompanied by someone he trusts implicitly. Something about Zack being more willing to face certain truths about his own psychosis.
Nice kid, but Sweets is a pain. A pushy, assless, Buttinski. If Zack wants Sweets to come with me, he'll tell me hims-…
What the Hell?
There's a backpack and duffel bag on the floor in Bren's living room.
Booth's back already?
I thought he was due back tonight.
Holy shit! Are they here now, together?
Wait…are they here? Now? Together?
Oh Hell yeah! B & B boot-knocking!
Where are you two crazy kids?
As I go looking for them, I wonder, if I offer to get Jack to pick up Parker's tab for college, will Booth let me watch them? If it wasn't for my sizable bundle here, I would totally stand and door watch the action, but at this point, I really would need a comfy chair. And some popcorn. With habanera sauce on it. Ooooooh! And caramel drizzled on top.
Yum!
Voyeur sex and snacks! None of the effort…and snacks!
I could totally park my baby load in Bren's chaise, bowl on my belly and just watch them go at it. I mean, I have constructed the image of the two of them going at it so many times and in so many different ways, they owe me.
Booth's Catholic, right? They only fool around in the backseat of a car or in the bedroom. Towards Bren's bedroom, I go. With mega steamy images of big, hunky Booth in motion flashing through my head, I can't help myself. As quietly as possible, I sneak back as much as I'm able, giddy at what naughtiness I'm about to discover.
Huh.
I know he's a good Catholic boy and all, but seriously, no noise? But wait, Bren's a big-time moaner… are they even in here?
Huh.
Nobody here.
Hmmm, it's just a few minutes past eleven. Maybe they went to the diner.
Shit! Maybe they went to the diner! Hodgins is at the diner. That would be bad…
OK, so maybe I lied to Jack when I told him that Bren was expecting me for brunch today. But I needed to get away from him and his annoying cheerfulness and his smiley grinniness and his ugh! Wonderful, supportive hubbiness.
Is that wrong?
Well, yeah I guess it is, because I really don't want to hurt his feelings. Hodgins has been great. Really great. It's just me and my fat bloated crankiness.
Well, hold on there, Montenegro. Don't be that woman.
Yeah, so I don't think of myself as "fat". In fact, it is so annoying to me – otherwise Twig-like women who complain that they're "so fat" when they're pregnant. No, Bitch, you're a fortunate vessel, supplying a safe nest and nutrients to the new life you're bringing into the world, you selfish cow. And when I say "cow", I speak of the despicable attitude of the alleged "fat mommy", not the person's size. I'm not "fat". I'm nesting. And I couldn't be more proud.
I just miss my ankles.
My Dad's new wife sent me pictures of a former friend of hers who had "glamour shots" done of herself holding her newborn twins two hours after they were born.
Glamour shots. What the Hell is wrong with people?
I really like Dad's new wife – she really seems to love my Dad, and she sure had enough sense to make that sociopath of a new mom a "former" friend. Any woman who just releases two new life forms out of her body better take pictures of themselves weathered, worn down an exhausted. That's worth at least nine months of free you-did-this-to-me favors owed back by your partner, and solid evidence to use against your kids when they become out-of-control teenagers.
Not that it worked on me heh!
So…
In review of the evidence strewn about Bren's apartment, I have concluded that Booth definitely came back early. Jury's out on the nookie, tho – Bren's a notoriously restless sleeper, the bed's in that condition always, and - although I'm married to someone who would totally do it - I ain't doing any touch or sniff tests. Given the stuff pulled out on the kitchen counter, they have not gone to the diner, but plan to come back to eat. Bren's iPad mini's not in the dock, and her running kicks are missing, so I'm guessing they may have gone out for a run.
Hmph! Why go for a jog when you can get nice and sweaty up against any surface with Seeley Booth?
Well, maybe she's being sensible, I-Need-Distance Bren, and/or worse yet, maybe Booth's being I'm-Honoring-Your-Dumbass-Need-For-Distance Booth.
Seven years.
Seven, fucking years that I've waited for this! They better not screw this up. I'm about to bring a new human into this world, I won't have time to chaperon their every move like Bren really needs me to. She's nuts - being freaked out at the thought that neither of them is ready to be together! Well, it's a little to late to be worrying about Booth wanting to sow his oats now, Sweetie!
Sweets better step up for me on this. I hope she talked to him like I told her to. He'll be more than giddy to "help out."
No-Butt Buttinski. Heh heh.
For now, I'll just grab a glass of mango juice from the fridge and chill out on the balcony until my OTP returns. The prospect of their sweaty hot bodies groping each other as they stumble through the door towards the shower is too overwhelming. I'll just angle the chaise this way, so I have a good angle if said action comes to pass.
Aaaaaaahhhh! This is perfect! Nice weather, a cold drink in an annoying-hubby-free zone. Just as I-
Shit.
Junior's kicking up on my bladder again.
Ugh! This chair's impossible!
Not sure I'm in a good angle to stand on my own. Dammit!
Sigh! Where is Hodgins when I need him?
Wait, I got this. Do I? Oh yeah!
Phew!
I'm such an idiot. OK, hiding out from Hodgins may not have been the best plan of action at this stage of my pregnancy.
Okay. Bathroom.
Wait, I see them, about three blocks away. I can recognize Bren's Phoebe-from-Friends-running-gait-but-without-the-arm-action anywhere. And there's her man, behind her, watching that superb ass in motion.
Hmm, Booth looks leaner.
Perhaps it's all the fucking.
She better feed that man more than the rabbit food she eats.
Bathroom, Montenegro. Bathroom.
He needs a haircut, too. As soon as they get the girl, they think they can let themselves go. Poor Hodgins has no idea that I trim his hair when he's asleep, ha!
Wait a sec…
Oh my fucking God!
Phone. Phone. Phone.
"Cam? It's Angela. Can you get over to Bren's as soon as possible? We have to kill her."
"How you holding up, Chere?"
"Oh, hello Miss Julian – "
"Caroline. It's Saturday after all. I can allow one day a week for you to address me informally."
"Uh, okay, Caroline. I'm doing okay. Just catching up on some patient notes."
Caroline strode further into his office. "I hear that you did an evaluation on Broadsky yesterday. You sure that's a good idea?"
Sweets frowned in confusion. "What do you mean? It's my job to conduct psych evals on suspects."
Caroline regarded the young psychologist with tempered irritation. "Yes, but it's not every day that you're meeting with a killer that ruined one of your nice suits by splattering it up with serial killer blood, guts and gore. Ruined my outfit too, if you'll recall." She reminded him.
Sweets nodded in silent solidarity at their shared secret. "Well, uh yeah. I suppose that makes things more unusual than most cases, but I'm a professional, Caroline."
Caroline smirked. "It's cute when you say naïve things like that, Sweet Pea. Look, any defense attorney worth her salt is going to call into question any testimony from a psychologist who not only knew one of the victims socially, but who was also less than two feet away from another one of the victims killed. Your services are not needed Dr. Sweets. You need to head to the locker room on this one, I'm going to use one of the shrinks from the bullpen."
Sweets' face anguished in surprised offense. "Well, how effective are Booth and Dr. Brennan going to be on the case, then? The same applies!"
Still standing, Caroline shifted weight from one foot to the other. Sweets noted that she never wanted to sit in his office. "There's still much to put together on this case. Evidence suggests that Broadsky may have had an accomplice – some type of computer expert helping him falsify documents and coordinate bank accounts with the people who paid him for killing his targets, and all sorts of other dastardly computery things. The accomplice is probably a slippery one, too, so I'm keeping sole focus on the Broadsky aspect of the case. What that means is, I plan to only call Dr. Brennan in as a witness to Mr. Nigel Murray's death, not as an expert. The forensic testimony will come from Drs. Saroyan and Hodgins and some of the FBI squints. And right now, Seeley Booth is sitting on top of my dream witness list. That boy had enough sense not to kill Jake Broadsky, but to bring him into custody instead. That will go a long way in the jury's eyes, considering that Broadsky was trying to kill him."
Sweets nodded. "That was an impressively smart move."
Caroline scoffed. "Don't let Seeley Booth fool, you. Dr. Sweets! You may think he's all broody and short-tempered, but when it comes to the law and prosecution? He gets it, better than any agent I've ever worked with. And he's easy on the eyes. Dr. Brennan better watch out. If that Fool Girl doesn't get her act together soon and sweep that boy off his feet, I'm gonna keep him for myself."
As she winked at Sweets, Caroline realized that his grin was a little too goofy/giddy to just be about her standard-issue sass.
"….Or has she gotten her act together?" she sang.
Panicked, Sweets attempted to reset his face.
Putting her hands on her hips, she set her expression to Intimidate. "Spill it."
Like at the diner with Max, Sweets again found himself trying to figure a way out of revealing anything about the status change to Booth and Brennan's relationship. But this was Caroline. And Sweets feared Caroline even more than Booth and Max.
He smiled. "There have been some new developments in Dr. Brennan and Agent Booth's partnership-slash-relationship."
A broad smile of satisfaction broke out across the stony prosecutor's face. "Is that right? Well!" she chuckled. "It's about damn time. I give it no more than three months before he knocks her up." With another wink, she turned to leave.
Sweets was shocked by her prediction. Coming from around his desk, he protested, "Naw! It's Dr. Brennan. She's the most deliberate person in the world! She doesn't do anything without thinking."
Turning back around at the office entrance, Caroline shook her head. "Oh Chere! When a woman like Dr. Brennan finally, after all these years, gives in to the crazy love she's been harboring for a man like Seeley Booth? Reason doesn't stand a chance. You are going to see a flood of non-Dr. Brennan-like behavior for a while. Mark my words!"
Sweets sat on the front of his desk chuckling at Miss Julian's prediction, his laughter fueled by the knowledge that his tempestuous colleague had, in fact, sought out his advice about her relationship with Booth.
Caroline's gaze turned from whimsical to concerned. "You'd tell me if you weren't doing, okay? Right Sweet Pea?"
Surprised by yet another one of her questions, he was slow to reply. "Uh yeah, of course, Miss…Caroline. Why-?"
Caroline sighed. "One of the problems of being the one who everybody comes to with their problems is that you diminish your own problems."
"I don't-"
"You don't what? Have problems? Nice try. I know there's a lot more on your shoulders that you let on. But I see you, Lance Sweets – so eager to jump in and help with everyone else's life just to avoid paying attention to the things that keep you up at night. A colleague of yours and your lady friend's dear friend was just killed. Death, new babies, and new romance has broken out among the team you're embedded with in addition to your day job! Don't burn yourself out, okay?"
Bashfully, he smiled. "That's very sound advice, Caroline. You're right. And thank you. I promise, I'll take care of myself."
She huffed. "Yes, you had better!" With a flourish, she turned and walked out of his office toward the outer exit. "Stop by for brunch tomorrow. I'm making beignets. Bring that girl of yours." She said, the echoes of her words booming through the empty office.
Shoving his hands in his chinos, Sweets stood up from his desktop, and walked back to his chair to return to his reports, grinning because he knew Caroline's invitation was an order, not an invitation. And also because he realized that this was the ninth week in a row that she had stopped in to check on him since Heather Taffet's murder.
"Hello?"
"We're in the living room." Brennan called out.
We? Booth asked himself, slowly walking into his apartment, a feeling of déjà vu overcame him as Angela and Cam sitting came into his sight. For a brief minute, he was afraid he'd see Hannah too. Thankfully, the only other presence was Brennan, who was standing over by the window.
Completely disregarding the presence of their colleagues and best friends, Booth and Brennan stared at each other with relieved appreciation of being reunited. It had may have only been four days, but seeing each other again – live – it was obvious that being alone was on both of their minds.
"Hey Bones." He grinned.
"Welcome back." She smiled apprehensively and sighed. He could tell she was agitated about something.
Bootha scratched his stubbly chin. "Uh, so what are all you ladies doing here? Not that I'm complaining about coming home to a house full of gorgeous women…"
"Oh, don't say that!" Angela mumbled. Brennan's smile turned to a glare at Angela. "What you didn't tell him about the dream?"
Booth was utterly confused. Turning to Cam, he whispered "did I do something wrong?"
"Uh, I don't know anything about a dream," Cam said slowly, her words rounding out into a Cheshire grin. "As far as I know, Dr. Brennan's the heavy. We're here to tell on her and then defend her for not knowing any better. Angela's idea."
Alarmed, Booth looked up at Brennan, who was now scowling at both her boss and her best friend while she paced, arms crossed behind the sofa.
"Oooooookay." Booth placed his backpack and duffel bag on the floor. He took off his leather jacket, and placed his hands in the back pockets of his jeans. All three women watched his form in motion. "What happened? Bones, what's going on?"
Brennan's jaw flexed as she chewed on the words that she wanted to say, obviously annoyed by being forced into this situation, and taking way too much time for Angela and her bladder. Angela let out a loud groan. "Ugh! Sully's been at Bren's for the past two days. Help me up Cam?"
Booth's face dropped. "What?"
Sighing, Cam walked over to help Angela off the sofa and toward Booth's bathroom. With her well-used nudging tone to her delegate, she offered "Dr. Brennan…?"
Brennan sighed. "Sully's in town to check on the progress of the new stores being built in Vernon Square and Yards Park. I…spoke with him over the weekend and told him he could stay at my apartment when I was making arrangements for us to go to Colonial Williamsburg. When…I suggested that Rebecca go instead of me, I didn't tell him to find an alternate place to stay, and I didn't tell you that he was staying at all…which according to Angela and Cam…" she gritted her teeth. "Sigh! According to Angela and Cam, not telling you is – 'shady' and 'inappropriate' given the recent change in our partnership."
"Yes! And he recently broke up with his girlfriend and I totally caught him checking Bren out this morning!"
"Angela!" Cam shushed.
Looking between his guilty puppy partner, her tattling friend and their hapless boss-slash-trainer, Booth failed at restraining a soft chuckle, especially due to the petulant pout planted on his partner's face. "I see." Walking towards Brennan, he calmly asked. "How long is he in town for?"
Brennan fidgeted as he approached, unsettled by Booth's poker face. She had seen him deploy this expression in the interrogation room. Like the suspects, she often sat completely unaware of what to expect from him next. She turned first to Cam, then to Angela, who had stopped en route to the bathroom to witness what played out – they, too were transfixed. "Uh, Monday. Monday afternoon."
"And he was in your apartment last night, when you and me were Skyping?"
"Yes." Her confirmation was uttered with more confidence than she really had. Nervously, she added "Angela told me that I have to stay with you until he leaves."
"With me?" He crossed his arms, stopping directly in front of her.
"Or…um, I can stay with her and Hodgins. Depending upon what you want me to do." She mumbled. "I was told that I should plan to grovel."
Booth held back a smirk.
"Which shower is he using?"
"What?" she asked, caught off-guard by the question.
Cam and Angela exchanged looks of confused worry.
"Which. Shower. Is he using?" he repeated.
"Oh!" Brennan finally realized the point of his question. Her frame visibly relaxed before responding "the guest shower."
Booth moved his hands to his hips. "The guest shower."
Brennan stepped toward him. "Of course, Booth."
Booth's eyes twinkled as he reached out to slip his hand around her waist. "Okay!"
Brennan beamed, her eyes and mouth wide as he pulled her to him. "Okay?" she giggled nervously.
"Uh huh." He grinned before planting his lips on hers.
Shocked, amused and feeling slightly stupid about their concern, Angela and Cam smiled and shrugged at each other before Angela headed off to the bathroom. Cam awkwardly regarded the intense snogging between the partners for a few moments before announcing to no listening audience that she was heading to the kitchen for more wine.
Brennan hummed at the feel of Booth's mouth and hands roaming over her naked frame.
"So," he murmured against the dip in her back as he traveled back up. "You gonna tell me about this dream that Angela kept going on and on about?"
Brennan's body vibrated with laughter. "Absolutely not. Dream interpretation is highly subjective. I wouldn't want you to misinterpret anything." She pulled her hair away from her neck, encouraging his next stop from her shoulder be to there. It was.
He turned, pulling her back to his chest they spooned. He peppered soft slow kisses to her neck. "Hmm, no good, Dr. Brennan! Another secret? First, you're keeping a former lover in your apartment and now this? I am so winning at this relationship!"
"So we are competing?" Brennan challenged, as she turned into his arms.
"Well," Booth grinned, brushing away her bangs to kiss her forehead. "This is one of those things that I most likely going to be better at than you. I mean, so far, you've posted pornographic images and videos to a government-issued phone, shipped me away on an overnight with the hot mother of my son…"
"Hot?" she frowned, playfully pinching his tricep.
"I knew it would bug you." He winked. "Let's see, where was I? Ah, yes! I was saying how I'm winning at this relationship! What else? Oh yes, there's the shacking up with the ex who apparently still wants you…."
"We are just partnering on a business venture. It's a sound investment." She protested. "Sully finally has a business plan that I believe is reasonable."
"Partnering?" Booth poked. "As long as there's no partnering the way we've been partnering the past week, I'm fine."
"Well," Brennan pushed herself on top of Booth with a mischievous arch to her eyebrow and mouth. "The way I see it, I finally am partnering with you the way I used to couple with Sully. With similar vigor, in fact-"
"Noooooooooooo! No! No! La la la la la la la la la la la la!" Booth howled, plugging his ears. "Never, never, never, never again do I want you to talk about other guys when we're in bed together."
"Well why not? We have before, and I find you to be the most satisfying, Booth!" she teased, pushing up to sit on his lap.
"I aim to please." Booth snickered, crossing his arms behind his head. Admiringly, he watched her settle on top of him. Even in their short time together, he had learned that she assumed this position when she wanted to talk. He stroked her arm, waiting for her to speak.
"Angela's right. I should have told you that Sully was going to be at my place."
"Well, while that's true, I don't like Angela trying to pull the strings in our relationship."
"She is very supportive of us Booth. She always has been."
"Oh, I know Bones, which is great! But, this is ours, not hers. She's worse than Sweets, bringing Cam in on her crazy! She's gonna need to learn to butt out."
"Easier said then done." Brennan smiled apologetically, wanting to change the subject. "I find that I'm embarrassed by my dream, Booth."
"Why? He asked softly. "Bones, it's me."
She offered him a fragile smile. "Exactly. The dream was very vivid, and when I woke up, I was very angry with Angela and you, and Cam, and Rebecca, and Hann-."
"Angry?"
"Well, jealous."
"Bones, whatever it was, it was just a dream. You and me? We're real." Booth watched as Brennan offered a small nod of agreement. "I trust you with my life, that includes my heart, you know." He pulled her back down on top of him. "And I want you to know that you can always trust me."
"I know. I do." She mumbled against his lips, her anxiety quickly dissipating as Booth guided them into another round of proving it to each other.
Brennan turned to curl into Booth upon his return from a 3:30 AM bio break. He freely welcomed her snuggle, sighing at the petal soft puffs as she breathed against his clavicle.
"Bones, we'll take Sully out to dinner tomorrow night, m'kay?"
"Mmmhmm." She hummed. "That'll be nice. I love you Booth."
"Love you, too."
Their breathing slowly synced to the edge of nod. Booth was convinced that right now, she'd be most compliant. Cocking open one eye to sneak a peek at her slumber, softly he whispered. "This dream you don't wanna talk about - was it a sex dream, Bones?"
"Mmmhmm."
"Me with a bunch of women?"
"Mmm. Hmmm."
"And you were jealous?"
"Mmmhmm."
Booth grinned. "Were you one of the women?"
"Nuh-uh."
"Hmmm." He kissed her forehead. "You weren't in it? It wasn't much of a dream at all."
A/N #2: About the title – while I have no quantifiable evidence, I'm personally convinced that never in the history of non-fetishistic fic have butts and bathrooms been referenced so frequently, not only in this chapter, but in the entire story. I don't know what to do with this information, I'm just a finder of the pattern.
