Gravity
Disclaimer: Booth and Bones are the property of Fox and/or Kathy Reichs. I make no profit and no copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: This is a little unconventional, even for me, but I rather like it. Please let me know what you think!
B
Gravity
Temperance Brennan is as completely graceless on the dance floor as she is poised and fluid in the laboratory. She dances like she's forgotten everything: who and where she is and why her mind is buzzing like he knows it must be: he's watched her drink, watched her celebrate, watched her muscles loosen and glide. Watched her for years, but he's never seen her this completely unselfconscious. It's breathtaking.
One million copies – even Bones felt like celebrating. She was supposed to go out with her editor tonight, but according to Angela her flight was delayed at the last minute, and not one to miss an opportunity he showed up at her apartment in his dancing clothes and practically dragged her away. It isn't like him to dance and it isn't like her to allow him to take her but there must be something in the air tonight, because here they are.
Booth slinks off into the crowd knowing just what he's looking for, just manages to keep her in sight as he does so. He pays the DJ an exorbitant sum to play 'Hot Blooded,' just to tease her, just to remind her that he's there. When the music starts she looks up and finds his eyes and laughs, grabs him by the front of his shirt and pulls him so close he can't look at her without his eyes crossing, so he closes them and lets himself go as she has, and that was the best hundred bucks he ever spent. He knows he can't dance, not like this, but it's worth every iota of embarrassment because he loves to see her like this, alive and wild – it's reassuring, the certain knowledge that this side of her does exist. He almost lets himself wonder if she'd be like this in bed (knows she would but doesn't quite acknowledge it for his own sanity's sake), but puts it aside; he knows it's not for tonight.
When he drags her out of the club she looks, sounds, feels like some long-ago temptress in the garden, smooth-voiced and soft-skinned and bathed in her own glow, but when she turns around to tease him he realizes his mistake: she's not Eve, she's the apple. He's so struck by that for a moment he has no idea what she's said or how to respond, or even if he's expected to, so he's quiet until she laughs at him again, red-cheeked and shining and he just can't help himself any more. She shoves him playfully and he grabs her hand, laughing along with her until her ear slides up against his mouth, and his secret spills out in a low whisper:
He could spend the rest of his life confessing but when his lips touch her flesh, he knows she's one sin he'll never repent.