Title: Slow hands
Author: wanderingsmith
Disclaimer: I ain't got no money, and nobody'd be daft enough to
pay me for this.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Who's playing that
music? And who's going to tango...
Warning: BB
my chapter 7 is NC-17. you can skip it and just read this (chapter 8) without losing anything of the story!
to read Chapter 7, you can go to wanderingsmith dot livejournal dot com
Chapter eight
Just as he came out of the shower, Booth heard his cell ringing and hurried to the next room. "Booth." "Hawaii? Why are we being called in?"
Cullen replied, "They don't have any particular wish for you, Booth, they want your lady scientist. But since no one in the FBI willingly deals with her except you, you get to join the fun. In any case, are you complaining about being sent somewhere sunny and warm?"
Booth groaned, his palm against his closed eyes, "I'm not, but Doctor Brennan is going to have some choice words on the matter."
"That's what we pay you for, Booth."
After hanging up, Booth stood looking at his rumpled bed and the blouse left on a chairback.
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"Hey Booth, like the new you!"
Booth rolled his eyes at Angela's playful leer. Hoping she'd give up, he kept walking toward Goodman's office.
"I thought the FBI had rules about the whole clean-shaven, pressed-suit thing?"
No such luck. "They do. I'm not officially on duty yet." He crossed his fingers at what was pretty much a lie.
"Reeeeeally."
He knocked on Goodman's door as he heard her walk away.
"Come in." Dr. Goodman raised his brows in surprise at the man walking in. The only time he'd seen the agent unshaven, they'd all been stuck in quarantine. And even then, he had not been nearly as dishevelled looking as he currently was. "What in the world happened to you Mr. Booth? You look like you are coming in off a bender, save that you neither look nor smell hung over."
Booth shook his head without replying. "The FBI is requesting Dr.Brennan's help for a case, sir."
"Indeed. Well, thank you for letting me know, of course."
"That's not all, sir. The scene is on the island of Maui."
"Maui?" the older man laughed briefly, "well, I'll be here for several hours Mr. Booth. And I'll marshal my arguments for the good doctor." His grin at the unusually grim-faced agent saying without words that he anticipated his anthropologist giving the man trouble.
"Thank you, sir." Booth walked back out, hoping not to meet anyone else on his way to Bones. He could do without further teasing.
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Temperance was glad to be back on track. She had the built-up work prioritized, her files ready and organized. Her mind was clear and fenergized. All she had to do was pick up each box of bones, inspect the remains, and fill out the forms.
"Hey Bones! Guess what!"
She stood without picking up the box, "Booooooth! I have 3 weeks of work to catch up on! I don't have..." she turned as she continued ranting and stopped when she saw him leaning on the doorframe. Dark hair mussed, jaw still wearing the night's growth of whiskers, white shirt wrinkled, half undone and half untucked, black jeans, old, ripped, and ridding low, trench coat open. After a few blinks of appreciation, her eyes narrowed in suspicion and she stared at the man trying to give her innocent puppy-dog eyes, "We both know I wouldn't actually refuse to help you with a case. I know the FBI frowns on anything but perfect grooming.It's not Sunday. What aren't you telling me?"
"Never gave me a chance Bones." He strolled up to her, slipping his arms around her waist, "You, are needed on Maui."
Temperance continued to glare, though her hands snuck up to his shoulders without her conscious permission. As much as she hated falling for his ploy, she also knew by now that Dr. Goodman would already have approved this. And anyway, oh so familiar hands were running up and down her rib cage, and it was very hard to maintain a glare against that shadowed grin; and remember his voice 'I want you, need you.' She was going to regret this; she really was.
Booth watched as she closed her eyes on a huffy sigh and shook her head, "Fine, when are we leaving? I have to let Zack know what to do."
Not showing his surprise at just how easy that had been, he leaned in and gave her a brief but hard kiss, wishing they had time to go home for more than packing. He prayed that this Heaven they'd found could survive alongside their partnership. "I've got my bag with me and I brought your overnight. Or I can follow you home if you need to pack more, our plane leaves at fourteen hundred."
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Angela watched Booth walk from Goodman's office to Bren's, correctly assuming they had a new case. But why wasn't he his usual spit and polish self? Her curiosity getting the better of her manners, she casually walked up to the wall outside Bren's office and opened the folder in her hand to pretend she was busy, her eyes fixed sideways into her friend's sanctum.
'Well, well, well. Speechless Brennan. Well done Booth.' Then her eyes widened as he casually took her in his arms. 'Oh my.' Scruffy Booth and Brennan's whisker-burned cheeks from the day before suddenly added up to a very interesting picture. And what looked like a shockingly fast surrender from her friend made the agent's choice of dress for the morning an obviously winning tactic.
She walked away smiling hugely. Brennan had finally found someone to kiss her in her office. She was soooo going to tease those two!
AN: I will continue this story, but more slowly (yes, I know, I'm already slow), I want to get a few other ideas polished up and sent out