TITLE: Nothing Personal
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Thanks, as always, to those that leave such warm reviews, to those that enjoy the story as-is. I'm just following where the muse takes me and hoping it's comprehensible. And apologies to those that were hoping for some more BB lovin' in this one. I decided to go the angsty route instead. Hope it's still enjoyable ;)
"Booth, let go of me." Tempe struggled to pry his arm from around her waist, but he held tight.
"No-can-do, Bones, I'm sorry," he replied as he buried his face further into her hair, peppering kisses on the back of her neck while he inhaled the fresh, soapy scent of her skin.
She smiled and squirmed, and somehow managed to thrash herself free. "Come on! I have to call Angela, and boot up the laptop..." she sat up and began running her fingers through her tangled, still-damp hair, "and we should probably discuss whether or not to investigate at that cabin anymore."
Booth sighed heavily and stuffed his face into the pillow, damning himself all over again for falling prey to the allure of Temperance Brennan. "Work, work, work. Is that all you ever do?"
"No," she shrugged nonchalantly. "I believe I've been allowing ample time for play lately."
He opened one eye and peeked at her, finding that her eyes were currently branding him through her lashes. He propped himself up on one elbow while he held her gaze... then swiftly sat up and cupped the back of her neck, pulling her in for a kiss.
Tempe sunk into the searing, sweet kiss, wanting more than anything to just wrap her arms around Booth and never let go. Her eyes popped open at the thought -- where had that come from? -- and she broke away shaking her head. "No. Stop, Booth."
Booth complied, but leaned his forehead on hers, sighing. "Okay." He pulled back slightly and searched her eyes, wanting to ask -- needing to ask -- but not knowing where the hell he would even begin. "Bones, do you ever think about..."
When he trailed off, she furrowed her brows. "What? Think about what?"
Us? he thought. Us, as more than work partners, as more than sex partners... us being everything to each other? "Uh... nevermind, sorry." He jerked his head in the direction of the door. "Go on and call Angela. Work's waiting."
Tempe eyed him warily, but nodded her agreement. "Okay..." She then rose to her feet and impulsively grabbed the tee shirt Booth had discarded before his shower, pulling it on and padding out toward the small living room.
Booth, meanwhile, angrily threw the covers off himself and dressed haphazardly, shaking his head at the empty room. Control. Where she was concerned, he had none, and that had never happened to him before. He had to regain control.
"Sorry to call so late, Angela, but I really need anything you've got." Tempe smoothed her hair back unconsciously, hoping her friend couldn't tell how disheveled she was from the other end of the video phone.
"It's no problem, Brenn, I'm at always at your service." Angela smiled. "And I mean that in a work-related, non-lesbian way, of course."
"Of course."
"I'm beaming you scans of the sketches I worked up for each victim... except for the one that was already identified. I assume that's what you and your lusty secret agent man ran off to investigate. And what is that you're wearing?"
Tempe closed her eyes and sighed, adjusting the laptop to make sure Angela couldn't see her bare legs. "It's a nightshirt," she lied.
At that precise moment, Booth yelled out from his room, "Bones, gimme my shirt back! My other one's dirty!" And when he stepped out, in view of thevideo phone in nothing more than his pressed dress pants, Angela began to laugh.
Tempe glared accusingly over her shoulder at Booth, and he raised his hands in supplication while the laughter continued on the other end. "How was I supposed to know that you meant you were going to call her right now?"
"I see what this little getaway was for, now," Angela chuckled.
Tempe gave thecamera a look. "Ange, it's not what it looks like."
"Oh yes it is, Sweetie. I'm not stupid. I won't even remind you of the tie I found this morning."
Booth sighed and began pulling on his button-down shirt. "Alright, I'm going to go flush myself down the toilet now."
"I'll be there in a minute to help you," Tempe glared.
"I knew it would happen eventually, don't get so bent out of shape about it. Besides, I'm sure Booth got you to bend in plenty of interesting ways, and I'm still waiting for all the tawdry details--"
"Ange! The sketches?"
"So are you two, like, a couple now?"
"No, we're not," Tempe replied curtly, "and we never will be."
She jumped when she heard the refrigerator door slam, and turned to see Booth clenching his jaw. She completely missed Angela's slow warning, "Uh... Sweetie..."
Her eyes were still focused on Booth as he deposited his bottle of water on the counter, a bit forcefully, and went over to put on his shoes... again, a bit forcefully. When he pulled his suit jacket on, she enquired, "Where are you going?"
"Outside."
"Well, don't you wanna hear about--"
"I've heard enough," he snapped, and was out the door in seconds, slamming it behind him.
"What's his problem?" Tempe muttered under her breath, and turned back to the video phone just in time to see Angela roll her eyes. "What?"
"You, Honey. You're his problem. I can't believe you said that right in front of him!"
"I didn't know he was standing there, and what is the big deal?"
"The big deal is what's happening between you two."
"It's just been a couple -- maybe three or four -- isolated sexual incidents."
"Yeah, to you."
"What does that mean?" Tempe folded her arms across her chest defiantly and furrowed her brows at Angela.
"It means that, while you may be comfortable with this new little 'fuck-and-run' relationship you've established with Booth... he might not be comfortable with it."
She shrugged. "I haven't heard any complaints."
"Right, because what guy would complain about no-strings-attached sex? Just because you haven't heard anything doesn't mean he hasn't been trying to tell you anything."
"Alright, as usual, you're not making any sense. And when will you be beaming me those sketches?"
"Dammit, Brenn!" Angela finally snapped. "You know what? I love you, honey, so much... which is why what I'm about to tell you is said with love: you need to drag your nose away from the bones and the cases for two seconds and just look at what's happening right in front of you! I'm so tired of having to spell everything out for you when it comes to you and Booth. It's ridiculous. You're the smartest person I know, but when it comes to him, you're an idiot!"
"Hey!" she exclaimed, indignant.
"I'm sorry, but it's true. You know virtually everything except how to handle yourself when a real relationship presents itself."
"This is not a relationship."
"Pull you head out of the sand, Sweetie! You and Booth have been in a relationship since day one! Just... the parameters keep changing."
"I don't know what that means."
Angela raised her eyebrows. "Well, then figure out what it means. Booth's not gonna wait around forever for you to get a clue. Now, as you asked... those sketches..."
Booth sighed, his breath coming out as a cloud against the chilly midnight air. He stuffed his hands through his hair savagely, almost wishing he was a smoker. He'd have killed for a cigarette in that moment. They'd never be a couple. How could she just dismiss the idea so quickly?
He had to show her; he had to show her how much potential there was between them... how much potential he saw between them. Whereas she seduced him with the 'nothing personal' sexual relationship, he would have to seduce her with something she never considered -- falling in love.
His cell phone vibrating in his pocket distracted him, and as he pulled it out, he glanced down at the viewing screen. His brow furrowed at the unfamiliar number and area code that popped up, but brought the phone to his ear nonetheless. "Booth."
"Agent Booth, I've got some information on a case you're investigating," came a male voice from the other end.
"And who am I speaking to?"
"You're investigating the death of Jamie Michaels, aren't you? You and that anthropologist lady I've seen on the news."
"Yes. Can I ask who I'm speaking to? And why are you calling me at this hour?"
"I was a friend of Jamie's. I'd like for you to meet me at her cabin, if you could. I have some information you need to hear. And I'm sorry about the late hour, Agent Booth, but this can't wait any longer."
"I'll be right there." He turned his phone off and slipped it back into his pocket, glancing into the living room from the picture window. His heart ached at the sight of Bones, her form dwarfed by his tee shirt, and he sighed. "Bones..." He poked his head through the front door, and averted his eyes when she looked up at him, "We gotta go back to that cabin."
She nodded, "let me just go change," before she ended her call with Angela and disappeared into the bedroom.
The car ride was silent, tension-riddled just as their last few car trips had been; though this time, neither were fuming. Booth was silently contemplating the case while trying not to grow depressed at his partner's hurtful words ... and Tempe was silently contemplating the case while trying not to be bothered by her conflicting feelings.
She finally couldn't take it anymore. She had to break the silence. "So Angela completed those sketches of the other three victims... and Zack was able to match dental records. Apparently, all four victims, including Jamie, were from here, originally. And according to their birthdates, they all would have graduated high school in the same year. It's probably a safe bet that they were all friends."
"Which means our killer could be from this same area."
"And possibly from the very same graduating class. A bitter classmate, maybe? Or an ex-boyfriend of one, or all, of them."
"Quit being like me for a little bit, Bones, and don't jump to conclusions." He pulled up in front of the large cabin, cutting the engine and turning to face her. "I want you to stay here."
"But--"
"Don't argue, for once." He shook his head in amazement and chuckled grimly. "Do you ever get tired of fighting, Bones? Don't you ever just want to... give up the fight? Give in and accept what someone says? What someone offers? Just accept what's in front of you for what it is?"
Tempe eyed him. "Why do I get the feeling we're not talking about the case?"
Booth sighed. "Forget it," and he jumped out of the car. Before he shut the door, he held up a finger to her sternly. "Stay here, Bones. I mean it. We have no idea who this anonymous caller is, so we have no idea if he's a potential threat or not."
"Well, just let me borrow one of your guns, and--"
"No, Temperance. I won't risk it." He held her gaze. "Not your life. Never your life."
Before she could say another word, he had shut the door, turned on his heel, and started toward the house... which was suddenly, to Temperance, looking very ominous. She swallowed hard, digesting what Angela had said to her -- what Booth had said to her -- and whispered to the empty car, "Be careful, Booth..."
TBC
More to come ASAP, I promise! I'll bring the muse out again after work ;)