Title: This is Life
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Rating: For reasons you will soon learn, this chapter is rated M.
A/N: I love The X-Files. But over here in the Bones archive, we're really putting the X-Files archive to shame! No one reviews over there! Not that I've posted anything, but there is this really cool story, for all X-Philes, by Michelle Dessler. Check it out if you're into it, and review! The girl is an excellent writer. Really, for having over 5000 stories, you'd think people would bother their arses! Anyway, before you do that, don't forget to read and review this!
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Her hands slid over her thighs and she rocked her hips, swaying with rhythm to the sultry drum beat, the tinny sitar, her spine moving like a wriggling snake. Her back was bare, aside from her sports bra, and he watched the muscles tense and ease as she danced to the Hindi beat.
"Whatever that is, please don't stop," he said, dropping his keys to the coffee table. She started, spinning on the balls of her feet. Her eyes were wide, her cheeks flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and genuine exercise. He saw a bead of sweat as it ran from her clavicle over her sternum and between her breasts.
"It's Bollywood dancing… kind of like belly-dancing only…" she paused, dropping her eyes to the floor. "What are you doing here?" Booth held up two paper bags, and grinned.
"I was going to make dinner. But now I'm going to watch you dancing half naked while my crotch continues to harden at a painful rate." He set the bags on the floor, crossing his arms over his chest. When she merely glared, he grinned. "Please continue. The more agile you muscles, the better for me." Her glare weakened while she contemplated.
"I thought you like my muscles tight. At least… that's what you always say just whenever you're in-"
"Okay… enough," he dropped his arms, defeated. "Dinner." Brennan reached for her water bottle, emptied half of it in three long gulps and he watched as her chest heaved as she did. Her nipples pressed against the white cotton and he felt his heart pound erratically at the sight. Damn… she was killing him. Or at least she would, soon. "I'm making… spiced chicken and… Bones… what are you doing?"
She slipped out of her bra, her naked breasts swaying as she began to move towards the bathroom. "I'm going for a shower… what did you say you were making?" He swallowed, moving after her. He heard the water come on, and listened to her as she began arranging shower gel and shampoo inside the stall.
When he stepped into the bathroom, she was naked, unabashed by her nudity. "I'm going to have a shower," she repeated, pulling the glass door back and thrusting her hand under the spray. Satisfied it was warm, she stepped inside, and a soft moan escaped her lips. He watched her for a long moment, her naked body writhing beneath the steamed glass.
Brennan lathered coconut and vanilla shampoo into her hair, the Asian beats pumping inside her veins. Even without the music, the sexy rhythm stayed with her. She let it, humming to a tune only she could hear. Her hips still swayed, her fingers massaging her scalp as she worked the shampoo into her hair.
Her hands stilled when she felt his fingertips on her hips, his arm slipping around her waist. "I'm trying to shower…" she complained feebly, dropping her arms. She felt his lips, hot and wet, against the base of her neck. When her body jerked, she realised he was as naked as she was and irreversibly aroused.
"I know…" he sighed, their bodies slick with foamy shampoo. "But it's really your own fault. Who dances Bollywood in a sports bra, I ask you?" She smiled into the spray, his hands moving across her breasts, his fingertips tweaking at her nipples.
"I was supposed to be alone. You rudely interrupted…" His tongue touched the edge of her jaw, and her hand fell against the wall, trying to regain her balance. Her head felt light and the steam curled around her.
"Oh don't tell me you don't like being interrupted," Booth said, his hand moving deftly between her thighs. She moaned, her fingers clawing at the white ceramic. "I didn't think so…" he chuckled, rubbing her. "You did it to entice me, you naughty… naughty…" she breathed in, her body melting against him.
"How was I to know you were going to turn up? When did I give you a key?" He smiled against her shoulder before taking her earlobe between his lips. "Booth… you should be…"
"In you," he finished. "Now." Soapy bubbles passed over her back, over her breasts and over her belly. He followed their uneven path, setting her skin on fire with each touch. Despite the logical refusal that formed on her lips, thanks to her rational mind telling her it was dangerous to have sex in the shower, she didn't speak.
She turned in his embrace, a groan of discomfort passing her lips as he pressed her against the wall and hooked her thighs, wrapping endlessly long, slim legs around his waist. He felt himself harden further, as their breath merged and his lips touched hers. All doubts died where they stood, as he held her beneath the steamy cascade of water, one hand holding her secure, the other roaming through her soapy hair.
"You know I am hung over… right?" She mumbled against his lips, and Booth shrugged easily.
"I didn't get you drunk, Bones. You got yourself drunk." He eased inside her, and instead of retorting, she groaned. "And apparently you're not opposed to this. Not really." She half conceded, tightening her thighs around him. "Bones… you feel so good. I take back what I said. Tight muscles are best." She smiled against his shoulder, rocking against his hips, their mutual moans blotted only by the falling water and the pipes.
He held her, thrusting upward until she trembled around him, her voice crying out until even the water didn't soothe away the noise. "Um… love… um… yeah.. you…" he listened to her, proclaiming love, and came within her, his body tightening, welcoming the relief that left his muscles weak and tired. "Booth?" He wondered if maybe they were going to apologise to each other again. He froze, easing only when her hand fell upon his arm in a tender caress.
"Yeah?" He said, cranking the shower off.
"I feel really… really happy today." He didn't entirely understand where her statement had come from, or why she felt the need to tell him. Nor could he explain why his chest seized at the words. But it was almost as though Temperance Brennan were offering him the world. Happiness, he knew, was scarce in reality. So few people were truly happy. Most of the time, they just persevered with what they had and resigned themselves because, what else was there? Happiness came only occasionally and only if one was very lucky.
"Me too," he said, meaning it entirely.
It didn't exactly matter how long it lasted for, or even if it lasted at all. Joy had a grip. He was oblivious to everything except how ever fibre in his body felt complete. "So…" she said, stepping out of the shower and wrapping a towel around herself.
"So," Booth said, "I hope I'll get the chance to see more of those Hindi moves…" she grinned wickedly, her saturated hair clinging to her neck and shoulders.
"Oh," she replied, slipping her arms around him. "I'm pretty sure it can be arranged."
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