I AM SORRY. MA dissertation has taken up all of my time so I've written you a nice long one as an apology. Enjoy!
Booth woke up alone.
Still half asleep, he fumbled around looking for Bones when he finally clocked that she must have got up. He tumbled out of bed, looking for the pyjama bottoms he'd thrown down last night before padding into the kitchen. The wooden floor outside of the bedroom was pleasantly cool. He saw her at the table, hands clasping a mug of hot tea, peering down at a book with a blank expression. Something struck him as odd. She looked more tired than when they'd gone to bed, and her eyes weren't moving. She wasn't reading. She was just staring at the pages. His brow creased, and he made himself known.
"Hey, baby," he said gently.
Brennan snapped back into the present, her eyes flashing towards Booth who stood a few steps away. She was not used to him calling her baby and part of her thought it was a strange term for one's lover, but it also made her happier than she could explain. Had he called her baby before? She felt like he had. The shock of him standing there shirtless with his hands in the pockets of his pyjama trousers, hair tousled, looking at her with those dark, probing eyes meant that Brennan couldn't respond immediately. She was enjoying the moment in a bittersweet silence, noting how much her mornings had changed.
"Hello," she finally replied, entreating him to come closer.
Booth obliged, kissing the top of her head before sitting down next to her. A gentle sigh at the contact, and Brennan leant towards him. She placed her tea down in front of her, and sought his hands with hers. Booth linked their fingers together, the other hand sweeping up her forearm to cup her elbow. Their knees bumped together. "How long have you been up?" Booth asked.
She shrugged, "roughly three hours. I'm on my fourth cup of tea."
"Did you get any sleep?"
Her eyes dropped, avoiding, "some."
Booth brushed his thumb over the soft spot in the crook of her elbow, knowing nightmares had kept her awake. He swallowed noisily.
"You should've woken me, Bones."
"You needed to sleep. You're still recovering."
"I don't care. Don't suffer all night long by yourself. I'll stay up with you next time."
Brennan wet her lips with her tongue, not wanting to explain why she had opted to spend the night alone. How did she explain that every nightmare was about him? Every time she managed to find sleep, the darkness revealed his blood, his corpse; she watched him drown, she watched him be buried alive, choking on dust and earth, and heard him call out for her all in vain. She felt trapped in her body, like her brain now belonged to someone else. She shivered.
"I would not have been much company, Booth."
He drew her in then, cupping the back of her head with his hand, and kissed her firmly. Brennan latched on to him, holding his wrist near to her face. Four kisses in total, reassurances without words. He pulled away only slightly, foreheads together and the bridge of his nose aligned with hers.
"You can rely on me, Bones," his voice was steady, certain, "remember that. I'd do anything for you."
"I know," she responded. "I know."
Brennan felt the warmth of his body in her hands, and it didn't matter that she'd had no sleep. She kissed him again, suddenly feeling like she needed him now, right now. In the brief seconds they parted for air, Booth saw Brennan's eyes and knew there was such a thing as azure flames. He let her pull him out of his seat, only to feel her hands on his shoulders, pushing him down onto the wooden floor. It was a controlled fall, one they achieved together. Booth gasped as the wooden panels stung icily against his back, contrasted by the searing heat of Brennan's mouth on his. She grabbed roughly at the waistband of his trousers, helping him to wriggle them off. A fleeting thought of sympathy for the pyjamas he'd only just put on, one that nearly made him laugh. Bones clearly couldn't stand him wearing them for long. Last night had been about having all the time in the world, but now Brennan couldn't wait and neither could Booth. Thankfully, she was only wearing flannel shorts, flimsy things that barely counted as clothes, ones that could be moved to one side. Brennan's hand closed around him, and Booth felt her in the next moment, sliding inside of her in one smooth motion. A sound fell from her lips that Booth had never heard, and he kissed her to try and taste it. She rose up momentarily, removing her top. Booth gazed up at her, his hands finding her hips, supporting her as she moved steadily. She traced a line down his throat, down his sternum, dancing over his abdomen, feeling his pulse and the contraction of his muscles as he met her movements with thrusts. Minutes passed, and then she needed to be closer. One hand held her weight, positioned next to his cheek, and he kissed and licked the sensitive skin of her wrist as she hovered above.
Another forceful kiss as Brennan burned up against him, leaning forward onto her elbows, forcing Booth to raise his hips with every thrust. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her against his chest and pressing his lips against hers as their breaths and smiles mingled. Brennan marvelled at the human body, at Booth, that he could make her feel like she could scorch the ground beneath her fingertips. Their pace was relentless, and the angle of Booth's thrusts was forcing Brennan to the precipice in a matter of minutes. She could see the longing in Booth's eyes, to watch her, to make her feel good. She nestled into the crook of his neck, breathing deeply, and didn't hold back as she came, letting every wave fall from her mouth unreservedly. Booth felt his own peak rising as Brennan writhed on top of him, making her pleasure last for as long as possible. Then, she quieted and nibbled on his ear lobe, her breath raising goosebumps down his neck. Booth swore he felt his pupils dilate, and then he was gone, digging his nails into her shoulder blades and rasping into her hair.
Afterwards, silence but for the sound of ragged breathing. Booth felt like he had whiplash, staring straight up at the ceiling and breathing in time with Bones who lay splayed on his chest.
"I love you," Brennan croaked, out of breath.
Booth made a noise of contentment, tilting her chin up so he could look at her. He thought his chest might burst. She really was more beautiful than he could ever put into words...and a complete hellcat in the bedroom, and the shower, and now the goddamn kitchen floor. He kissed her, feeling the thrum of her heartbeat in her lips.
"I love you too, Bones." Another kiss, "that was...amazing."
She nodded with a small smile, "I find that making love with you leaves me feeling very satisfied, physically and emotionally."
He resisted the urge to roll his eyes a little at her turn of phrase but his heart could've lit up the darkest night with how much it was glowing.
"Glad it's not just me, then." He smirked, playing with a strand of her hair.
That crooked smile appeared again, the one that had grabbed Booth by the throat the moment he had first seen it; the right side of her mouth rising a fraction higher than her left, revealing more of her pearly white teeth on one side. He felt that same tightness, that same delicious, addictive pain looking at her now. He stopped playing with her hair, and smoothed it down the back of her head.
"Will you tell me about your nightmares later?"
She stiffened, and worry flickered across her face.
"Booth, I don't know-"
"Bones, you've gotta talk about this stuff. It loses its power when you speak it out loud."
Her hand curled into a fist on his chest. Booth pried it open with his fingers.
"I'm speaking from experience. It doesn't have to be today, or tomorrow, or even this week but please, can we agree to talk about it soon?" Booth asked, voice soft and concerned, "you need your sleep."
Brennan inhaled sharply. She held on to it for three seconds, and then in her exhale, she agreed.
"Okay."
She never wanted to talk about it. She never wanted to speak those dreams aloud. To Brennan, voicing them would make them real. Booth said they would lose their power, but she couldn't believe him. It felt like they would materialise the moment she opened her mouth. It was a recurring thought that was highly superstitious and not at all rational, and the fact that it was all Brennan could think about was rattling her. The lab, usually a safe haven, felt unfriendly and alien to her.
Walking through the atrium, her footsteps echoed up to the apex of the roof. The shattered glass from four days ago had been replaced, and it was like it had never happened. Mr Nigel Murray had not bled to death on the platform while everyone watched, helpless and hopeless. Nothing had changed.
Except it had.
Everything was different. People had returned to work, but they scuttled like insects, tentative and worried to be out in the open where another stray bullet might hit them. They didn't want to bleed out at the Jeffersonian. It wasn't part of the job description, to die whilst surrounded by remnants of the dead. Their work was supposed to bring people back, to make them alive again in some way, not add to the list of corpses. She had not seen Cam since they had sent Vincent's casket home to the UK. Angela and Dr Hodgins were at home, waiting for her not to be pregnant any more. Brennan wasn't even sure if there were any other interns in today. She had lost her grip on reality.
She sat at her desk, opened up her laptop. She needed to write, needed to make progress on her next book or her publisher might stop sending her Rolex watches and cars and generally lovely gift baskets with things she didn't realise she needed. The blank page glared at her. Brennan fought the urge to tip it off her desk, smash it on the floor. Maybe her next villain could be a rogue sniper. Maybe everything would not be so grey and dark and terrifying if she could make something positive out of this. Sweets would call it catharsis, but Brennan didn't want to do anything that he would approve of because she knew he'd be smug about it. Plus, it was too soon. She didn't want to construct a man like Broadsky in her mind when she hated the sound of his name in her head. To write a man like Broadsky, she'd have to understand him and that was something she never wanted to do.
She thought back to Booth and his face as she'd pushed him down onto the floor, unable to stop, needing the intimacy that only he could give. A sharp pang struck her in the abdomen, memories removing her from her office for a brief moment. She breathed deeply, wishing she didn't need him so much. She felt uncomfortable relying on someone like she relied on Booth, even though it was something she wanted. When she wasn't chewing on that thought to try and understand every nuance of its flavour, she was profoundly happy and relieved to finally tell Booth she loved him and to see how he loved her, so vividly, in every look. The months before Broadsky, watching Booth with Hannah, and coming to the awful realisation that she had ruined everything had been agony. Far from him, from the familiar path of her life where Booth was always beside her, she had never felt so alone. And now, they were together. Though labels seemed difficult to pin down for Brennan. She loved him, was in love with him, felt inextricably connected to him in every part of her life. Where she was, so was he. She had never thought it was possible for herself, before Booth.
An hour passed, the only sound was Brennan's fingers against the keys of her laptop. She'd made a start. It was better than nothing, and then she stood to don her lab coat and return to the bones.
An ear-splitting, shattering of metal and glass. She went cold, and ran.
On the forensic platform, a young technician she didn't recognise stood with feet either side of a dropped tray. A glass beaker lay in pieces, the fragments glittering. Metal scalpels and other hand-held tools lay in similar disarray on the floor. Brennan swiped her access card and ascended the steps.
"What is going on?" Brennan demanded, heart pounding, stiff with panic.
The intern was terrified to see Dr Brennan in front of him, her face stony and unforgiving. She was like a grenade waiting for someone to pull its pin. He swallowed with a churning stomach.
"I'm sorry, Dr Brennan, it slipped. I'll clean it up now."
She bristled, enmity rising, "what is your position here?"
She watched him stutter, "I, uh, I'm a lab t-technician."
Brennan gestured to the mess at his feet, her shaking hand making her more irate. She met the lab tech's eyes and spoke with razor-like fury, "I hope you are not so careless when handling human remains."
He dropped his gaze to the floor, "No, Dr Brennan."
Brennan turned and left him alone, stalking down the steps, tears in her eyes. She didn't return to her office, but down the steps into the storage archives. Her vision blurred, chest tightening. Tears trickled down her face, which she swiped at furiously. She couldn't risk being seen like this, and so retreated further and further into the archives until she could barely hear the din of the atrium. Piled high with file boxes, it was quiet and dark in the corner she found herself. She latched onto the surrounding stillness, breathing it in as she sat on the floor, knowing she was heading for a panic attack and not sure how to slow it down. With hands over her eyes, Brennan rested her forehead against her knees and sucked in deep breaths, holding for several seconds, and releasing as slowly as she could manage. For a long time, she sat in the dark, focusing on her breathing and trying to calm her speeding heart. She felt the sting of shame and embarrassment. She had acted poorly, she knew it. Lashing out in fear was not acceptable. It was not that young technician's fault that the sound of that tray hitting the ground sounded just like...
"Dr Brennan?"
Brennan started, peering up at Cam. She had been so focused on her breathing that she hadn't noticed her approach. Brennan began to stand but was put off by a gesture, and a gentle shake of a head.
"There's no need to get up," Cam said. She glanced around. "There's no one here but us, so..."
She joined Brennan on the floor. It was an odd sight. Cam, in a long fitted dress, was somehow able to crouch down gracefully and take a comfortable position beside Brennan. Brennan wiped beneath her eyes and smoothed her hair, sheepish. It was an emotion she was not used to experiencing.
A small silence. Then Cam spoke.
"I haven't seen you since..."
"Yes, since we sent Vincent's casket back to the UK."
Another silence.
"How are you, Dr Brennan?" Cam asked. It was too simple a question for what she knew would be a complex answer. She was genuinely concerned about her, she was prone to outbursts, but the one she had witnessed from the atrium above the forensics platform reeked of fear and grief. The crash had shocked Cam too, for a fleeting moment she had been transported back to that day, but Dr Brennan had seen more than she had. Cam hadn't been holding Vincent as he died.
"I am aware that I overreacted and will apologise to the technician," Brennan said, irritated with herself, irritated that she had been observed acting so unprofessionally. "It was not fair of me."
Cam raised her eyebrows, "I think that would be a good idea and I appreciate that. Thank you." She paused, "but are you alright?"
Brennan sighed, wiped a stray tear from her cheek that had escaped her eye, "I'm alive, which is more than can be said for Mr Nigel Murray."
She didn't know how to respond. It was true. They should all be happy that they were alive, thankful that they had another sunrise to wake up to...but it seemed like everything was grey. Grey mornings, noons and nights as shock and grief stole the colour from their lives.
"I'm finding it difficult to sleep," Cam admitted. Maybe this wasn't entirely appropriate, she was Dr Brennan's boss, but the usual parameters didn't seem to matter as much now in the dark, with storage boxes as walls. "I try, but I keep thinking about everything. It doesn't stop."
Images of Booth flashed through Brennan's mind. Images she didn't want to remember, "you are not the only one. Booth says-"
Brennan stopped. Saying his name, admitting they were spending time together, seemed like it should be a secret now.
"Booth says?" Cam asked innocently.
Brennan cleared her throat, "he says that if you talk about nightmares, they lose their power." It was a question, an entreaty to make sense of something she didn't understand.
"He's right," Cam answered immediately, nodding. "They don't have the same hold when you share them with someone."
Her expression spoke volumes. You should share them with Booth.
Brennan didn't reply, staring at her knees.
"Seeley is a very good listener, if you let him, Dr Brennan. He always has been," Cam said.
Brennan saw a flicker of something cross Cam's face, and the realisation that she knew more than she was telling was a surprising relief Brennan didn't expect. She found herself glad that someone knew, happy that it was less of a secret than it had been.
"Did Booth tell you about us?" Brennan asked.
Cam chuckled, surprised that Brennan had caught on. She didn't think Booth had noticed. "No, but I saw you together and realised something had changed."
"Oh," Brennan said. She wasn't sure how that made her feel, "is it...obvious?"
Cam's legs were starting to ache against the floor, and she shuffled to a more comfortable position, "it isn't, no. I just happened to catch you looking at him, and I knew."
"What does that mean?" Brennan asked immediately. Cam was momentarily caught off guard by just how shockingly blue her eyes were. It was disconcerting to have them fixed on her face.
"I just...saw it in your face," Cam answered evenly. "You looked at Seeley and there was something between you that was, well, just yours."
She watched Dr Brennan process her words.
"You and Booth both seem able to do that. You know things just by looking at people. I find it very confusing," Brennan crossed her legs. She didn't like that she was so easily read by others. It felt invasive, like someone had opened a door into her mind.
"I can't do it with everyone, but I do know you, Dr Brennan. We've worked together for a long time." Cam bartered quietly, "and I've known Seeley for years. I know when he's had good news and things are going well for him."
Brennan found herself stuck on those words, and she needed the clarification.
"I'm good news?" she asked, just as quietly, like she didn't believe.
Cam felt oddly emotional looking at Dr Brennan. This obstinate, frustrating, brilliant woman both knew her worth, and yet had also never understood it. Especially with Booth. She smiled warmly.
"The best, I can assure you."
Brennan took another moment, ascertained that Cam was telling the truth and nodded, her teeth snagging her bottom lip.
"We should get back," Cam broke the silence, rising to her feet. Brennan didn't move.
"I'll find the lab technician and apologise."
"His name is Mr Warren. Using his name when you apologise to him might help."
"Yes, I imagine it will," Brennan agreed. She looked up at Cam, "thank you. I'm sorry for being unprofessional. It won't happen again."
Cam shook her head softly, "I understand, but if you need to go home, then go home, Dr Brennan. The lab can wait."
"Of course."
Cam considered the conversation closed and turned. After a few steps, she heard Brennan's voice.
"Please don't tell Booth."
She looked back at Dr Brennan who was still sat on the floor. She was not used to seeing her look so small.
"I won't," she acquiesced. "But you should."
And then Dr Brennan was alone in the dark.
Booth drummed his fingers against his desk, watching the clock. The day was dragging by him malevolently, jeering and taunting that he had to stay in the office. He felt like he was sixteen again, counting down the seconds until he could see his girl and almost felt like he should be embarrassed. He'd been in love before but never like this. He had loved Hannah but it was like putting a plaster over a burning crater of a wound that needed stitches and hoping it would heal. It didn't stick. No matter who he'd dated or had casual flings with over the years, no matter which country he fled to, he couldn't shake Temperance Brennan's grip on his heart.
But why shouldn't he be happy? Something he'd wanted for so long was finally a reality and it had been her who had started it up, even though so recently, he'd broken her heart. Booth didn't think he would ever be able to forget that car journey, both of them soaked through from the rain, tasting the copper in the air and Bones, eyes locked on him, finally admitting that she loved him, that she didn't want to have any regrets. He flinched, and shifted in his desk chair to dispel some of his discomfort. It should have been the perfect moment. He should've been able to stop the car, to unbuckle his seatbelt, reach over and kiss her. To show her, immediately, that he felt that same, and that it was safe for her to open her heart to him. But, of course, he didn't, he couldn't. It wouldn't have been fair to Hannah, and he was not unfaithful. But it had killed him inside to see Bones break down so quickly, to know that he was lying. He was lying again and again by turning her away.
He sighed deeply, wondering how to fill the remaining hours before he could clock out. He supposed that it was a testament to his management skills that all of the agents in his care were doing well with their caseloads, and needed little intervention but it also meant that he was bored beyond belief. Sure, his superiors were very pleased with him but sitting around was not his idea of fun; though at the moment, he probably needed it. He rolled his shoulder, assessing the damage. The extent of the bruising had set in and it was tender to the touch. He wanted another shower at Bones' with that, frankly, magical shower head with the massage setting. Hopefully they could stay there tonight. His thoughts were interrupted by two hard raps on the glass door of his office.
Sweets lingered in the doorway, "Agent Booth, can I come in?"
"What do you need, Sweets?"
"Nothing," he rebutted lightly, moving closer by a few paces, "I'm just checking in to see how you're doing."
Booth leaned backwards, rolling his eyes, "Hacker sent you to check if I'm going crazy, right?"
Sweets sat down in one of the chairs opposite Booth's desk, which was never a good sign, "I've been asked to enquire about your well-being after a sustained incident with a dangerous suspect who you knew personally, and who was trying to kill you." He interlocked his fingers, "and I object to your use of 'crazy'."
Booth took a deep breath, "I'm sorry for using 'crazy'. But I'm fine, Sweets. Completely fine. You're wasting your breath."
"I disagree," he said. Booth hated his voice sometimes. He felt unusually irritated with Sweets, and wasn't immediately sure why. "Any person, even someone with extensive combat experience such as yourself, would have found the events of the last week extremely difficult to manage. So I'll ask you again, Agent Booth, how are you?"
A brittle silence. Two stags with their antlers raised, aiming at the other. One withdrew.
"What do you want me to say, Sweets?" Booth griped, raising his hand in a gesture of defiance, "I'm coping as well as I can. I'm glad I got Broadsky without killing him because he deserves real punishment and that punishment is being locked up for the rest of his natural life. I'm relieved that other innocent people won't get hurt, but I'm pissed that Vincent died in front of Bones, when it was meant to be me."
Sweets listened carefully, pausing to let Booth's words sink in, "and so, you think it would have been better if it were you who had died in front of Dr Brennan."
"No!" He snapped, "Sweets, come on. Don't do that."
"What do you think I'm doing?"
"That! Scrounging around for information. No, I don't think that it would have been better if it was me who died in Bones' arms – of course that's not what I think. No one should have died and that's the point but in the end, I know that Broadsky intended for me to answer that call. He fired at whoever was holding the phone and I told Vincent to answer it."
"I understand that you might feel guilt about that, but you should also remember that anyone could have answered that call. It could just have easily been Dr Brennan who died that day."
"That's enough," Booth's tone cut Sweets like a blade. He had never looked so furious, so foreboding, "Don't say a thing like that as if it doesn't matter."
"You're an agent with the FBI, Booth. Dr Brennan is exposed to countless threats through your work together." Sweets pressed him, "Has it not occurred to you that she might die in the field?"
"Sweets. I swear to God. Stop and get out."
"Agent Booth-"
"Why did you come in here? Just to get a rise out of me?" Booth stood and stepped away from his desk, brimming with tension, "what are you trying to prove?"
Sweets didn't move, just stayed in his chair and casually rested his arm on the arm rest. "I'm assessing your well-being, Agent Booth, just as I said."
"How is this assessing my well-being?" He spat. His hands itched to throttle him, but letting him know that would probably bring more questions he didn't want to answer. How dare he bring up Bones as if she was...he couldn't even finish the thought. The reality of it was too awful to contemplate.
"If you were, as you said initially, 'completely fine' then that would be an issue I'd have to report to your superiors," Sweets said, appeasing, less combative, "but I can see that you are having a healthy emotional response to your recent trauma."
"Oh, can you?" Booth couldn't hide the biting sarcasm.
Sweets was unfazed, "would you have told me any of this, if I hadn't pushed you?"
"That's beside the point. What you said about Bones is completely out of line."
"Right now, I am here in a professional capacity and that means doing and saying things I wouldn't necessarily do or say if I were speaking to you as your friend. It is my job to ensure you are well and fit for duty. If you've got a problem with that, speak to Hacker," Sweets stated. Booth had to hand it to him – he kept his nerve. He was still furious, like his blood was about to start spurting from his ears and nose, but he knew that he was right. He didn't agree with it, but he also knew that Sweets was just doing his job.
He blew out a noisy breath, his limbs jittery, "I think your job description is full of crap."
Sweets rolled his eyes this time, "yep, you've made that pretty clear over the years. Again, speak to Hacker." He stood, smoothed down his tie, "I'm sorry for upsetting you and I'm sorry for the difficult questions. I know that you always protect Dr Brennan out in the field, and I didn't mean to insinuate you didn't."
God, Booth hated it when Sweets was right and decent. It made being angry at him so much harder. "It's okay. I'm...sorry I blew my top."
The left side of his mouth twitched, "I understand. I'll leave you to it."
Sweets was nearly out of the door when Booth's voice caught his attention.
"Bones and I know how we close we got, Sweets. We know it could have been either one of us."
Something in the tone of his voice made Sweets falter, his intuition telling him that maybe...just maybe...
"It's a trope, but life is very short. There's no time to waste," Sweets patted the door frame and left before Booth could reply.
Booth sat down again, and put his head in his hands, exhausted by the sudden rage. It had sapped all the energy from his bones, and he spent a couple of seconds with his eyes closed, trying to draw some strength back from the well of silence around him. Another knock at the door and he groaned internally.
"Sweets, I can't-"
He looked up. Bones stood with her hand against the door, windswept and pale. Booth's stomach lurched in the best possible way.
"I'm not Sweets."
He grinned, "and thank God for that. Are you okay?"
Bones dithered, hand clenching, lip going back between her teeth, "can we go somewhere?"
"Sure," he went towards her, grabbing his jacket, "coffee?"
"No, just us."
Booth's brow furrowed, and fought the urge to grab her hand. The FBI didn't know they were dating, and he didn't want to disclose it yet. He racked his brain thinking for a place they could go now where no one would interrupt, when he had a spike of inspiration.
"18th floor has empty offices. The Fraud team have moved, we can go there."
They hopped onto the lift in silence, standing shoulder to shoulder as people came and went. With the utmost care, Booth hooked his pinky finger around hers and saw her look down, eyes closed for the briefest moment. Finally, alone, the 18th floor unveiled in front of them and Booth led the way to an empty office at the end of the corridor. A new team was moving in next week, Booth didn't know which, but the janitorial team had finished their cleaning which meant they wouldn't be disturbed. He shut the door when they were inside one of the smaller offices. It was like the bullpen outside Booth's office, the same colours and equipment, but home to only 3 desks. He locked the door, just to be safe.
Booth moved them backwards, out of view of the door which had a small glass panel on one side, "what's going on?"
She looked like she was wound up, her mouth in a thin line, trying to hold something back. There was a slight redness beneath her eyes, and she could barely look at him. If he hadn't known her so well, he would've thought she was annoyed at him in some way, but her hands had found their way under his jacket to his hips. Their warmth seeped through his shirt. Booth held her by the shoulders, dipping his head to try and see her eyes.
"Hey, talk to me."
"I just wanted to see you," she replied, nestling against him. Her arms wrapped around him, and Booth reciprocated, rubbing his hand gently up and down her back. Brennan held on tightly. Booth pressed his cheek against the side of her head.
"I missed you," he murmured, closing his eyes. He hoped he could snatch a few moments of rest.
"I missed you too," Brennan mumbled into his shoulder, "which isn't logical because we saw each other this morning."
"Maybe it's because of this morning that you miss me," Booth flirted, half smiling.
Brennan pulled away so they were face to face, "are you referring to the fact that we had intercourse before work?"
Booth couldn't be bothered to argue with her about calling it intercourse and decided to play along. He slipped his arms round her waist and pulled her against him, finding it sort of exciting that they were doing this in his workplace, "yes, that is to what I am referring."
Brennan felt the ghost of a smile on her lips, "you're teasing me."
"Yes."
Their lips met, briefly, confirmation that it was still allowed. Booth still had to check himself every morning since he and Bones had first slept together, reminding himself that it was different now and that if he wanted to kiss her, he could. It wouldn't be absurd or crazy or life shattering to try. Brennan pulled him back in shortly afterwards, shorter kisses interspersed amongst longer, languid ones. He groaned appreciatively, cupping her cheek, running his hand through her hair. Finally they paused, and Brennan snuggled back into his arms, breathing deeply.
"I shouted at a lab technician today."
"Why did you do that?"
Brennan struggled to find the words to explain. The shattering glass. The feeling that she was back there and it was happening again.
"He dropped a tray and the noise...frightened me. I ended up in the archive," she realised she was whispering, but couldn't make herself any louder.
Booth understood. On his stints back in the U.S., he'd heard gunfire in the sound of children's shoes on the pavement as they ran. He had spent several long nights hiding from the sound of rain against his bedroom window, convinced it was bullets popping from enemy artillery. He hugged her close.
"I'm sorry, Bones. I'm so sorry."
She shrugged, "it isn't your fault."
He kissed gently down the side of her face until he reached the corner of her mouth, when she turned her head to meet his lips. She manoeuvred him round so he was pressed against the wall, rising up on her tiptoes so she could feel every part of him against her body. She needed more. Her hands slid around his neck, feeling his hips pushing against hers. He gasped raggedly against her mouth.
"Bones, we need to stop," he chuckled in between kisses, "I don't know how to explain this to my supervisor."
"You can just say," she breathed, eyes brighter, dropping words when she could, "our partnership is very successful."
And they laughed until tears streamed down their cheeks.
A fun recommendation for you! Check out the podcast "The Bones Booth". It goes through every episode of Bones and is so much fun. Gets me laughing every time! Also, pop me a little review ;)