Thank you to all my lovely reviewers...I'm still uncertain about where this is going...just have to wait and see, I guess. This one makes reference to an earlier one about pancake making. Just mentioning to hopefully avoid any confusion.
Bones isn't mine. I'm reduced to bribery.
"Ok, this is going to be done quickly and quietly. You go to the left and I'll veer to the right. We meet back just inside the front door in exactly three minutes and…"
Brennan gave a disgusted grunt.
"It's not a military operation, Booth."
"Ok, did you hear Angela on the phone? She was talking about taking no prisoners and how there's no casualties in this sort of thing, only winners and losers."
"And you believed her? Booth, she was just saying all that stuff to try and get me all riled up. Although, apparently, the little female empowerment speech worked more on you than me."
Booth's ears went crimson and he started muttering to his chest about how he was only trying to help and how certain people should stop trying to infringe upon his masculinity.
"There has to be some masculinity present in the first place for me to infringe upon it."
Booth drew himself up to his full height.
"Excuse you, I'll have you know I'm very masculine."
A passing crowd of teenage girls apparently agreed with him: a number of them wolf whistled and there were a couple of shouts of "Yeah ya are!" at his comment.
Booth stuck his thumbs into the loops for his belt on his trousers and proudly surveyed his admirers. Two seconds later he was hurriedly tugging on Brennan's sleeve.
"Oh my God, Bones, can we get moving? Those girls look like they want meat."
Raising her eyebrows in disdain at the fearful tone in Booth's voice, Brennan cast a leisurely glance over at the group of girls. Upon seeing the extremely predatory look on the majority of the salivating teens' faces, she hurriedly rushed Booth to safety.
Once they were inside, Booth immediately hunched his shoulders. He drew his elbows in close to his body and his eyes darted from side to side.
"Booth, have you gone into stealth mode?"
"What? No! I was just…yeah, maybe."
Brennan surveyed the scene before her in disbelief.
"Booth, it's just a clothes shop."
"Yeah, but…but that's not the point and…and it's a women's clothes shop!"
She stared at him.
"You think women are scarier than men?"
"Definitely!"
She paused a moment.
"Do I scare you?"
Booth suddenly overcame his paralysis and barrelled off into the shop, shouting loudly over his shoulder about how there was no possible way she could ever scare him. Not in a million years. Brennan smiled secretly to herself as she went to inspect some dresses over to her right. Little did he realise that he had just answered in the affirmative by bounding off in such a manner.
Booth had been in the process of driving Brennan home after interviewing a suspect when Angela had called. She had hysterically reminded Brennan that the annual dinner for the Jeffersonian was tonight.
Poor Angela was all in a flap when, after relaying her outfit for the twentieth time in her head to herself, and for the sixteenth aloud to a quickly-losing-his-patience Hodgins, she realised that she hadn't heard Brennan mention anything about an outfit. Not once.
Brennan decided, somewhat diplomatically, not to inform her that she had planned on "forgetting" about the whole event until the last minute, therefore leaving her with no time to shop. No dress equalled no dinner. Unfortunately, her friend's brain had switched on before crunch time. This case must have pushed it all from Angela's mind…that and the five hundred dollar shoes Hodgins had surprised her with to complete the ensemble.
So, on loudspeaker, she had proceeded to cajole and bribe Brennan into going and finding an appropriate evening gown for the occasion. Once she remembered Booth was in the car too, she roped him in as well. Although, her impassioned speech about the pride and integrity to be found in triumphing over other half-crazed women in the successful completion of their quest had something of a negative effect on poor Booth. The man was rather pale after the connection was severed and had to lean on the side of the car for a few minutes after they'd exited before he could persuade his wobbly legs to wobble forward.
Two minutes later, Brennan had three dresses draped over her right arm. Her left was being used to examine other potential eveningwear. Suddenly, behind her, there was a low "Psst." Brennan spun around and nearly fell over Booth, who was crouching down at waist level. He had a finger raised conspiratorially against his lips. More than a little annoyed that he had managed to startle her so much, Brennan reached down with her free hand and yanked him into a standing position by his ear.
"Booth, you're being ridiculous!"
"But Angela said…"
With a growl, Brennan unceremoniously flung the gowns into Booth's hands.
"Here, hold these."
Obediently, more than a little fearful of the manic glint in Brennan's eyes, Booth followed her around for a further three minutes. Thankfully he was unaware of the approving glances thrown Brennan's way over how well she had trained her boyfriend.
Finally, Brennan decided that she already had in her possession all of the dresses she could ever possibly consider wearing, and made a beeline for the changing rooms. Booth trotted after her.
Brennan strode in through the doorframe underneath the words "Fitting Rooms" without so much as a backwards glance. Booth hopped nervously from one foot to the other before finally plucking up all of his courage and poked his head inside. He couldn't see Brennan so, to the sound of an undertone running pep talk, he fell in through the entrance himself.
Brennan was standing in the middle of what looked like an endless corridor of cubicles, all of which had their curtains pulled open.
"There's nobody here."
"Well thanks for that, Sherlock. Next we can solve the mystery of whatever happened to Mother Hubbard's cupboard."
"No, I meant, none of the employees are here."
Booth had a quick glance around.
"Ok. Right. Well, just get it there and try these on anyway. You don't need someone here to do that."
"Do you think I should?"
"Now who's the scared one?"
Brennan scowled at him and wrenched the fabric out of his rather strong grasp.
"Ok, but would you just sit over there" she indicated the little stool in the cubicle opposite the one she was currently entering "and tell me what you think?"
A rather superior smile blossomed on Booth's face. He strutted over to the seat and settled himself down on it slowly before replying, "Are you saying my opinion matters to you?"
Brennan, about to pull the curtain closed, paused, looking somewhat flustered.
"I…well, not exactly…it's just there's no one else here, so, I just thought…"
Booth made a waving motion with his hand to indicate that she should just shut the curtain and get started.
About two minutes later, after a lot of rustling and a number of muffled curses, the curtain was pulled back once more.
She was a vision. She had hastily tied her hair up into a loose messy bun to keep it out of her face. The dark green of the material contrasted perfectly with her pale skin and highlighted the lighter sections of her hair. She looked up at him through her eyelashes, face slightly flushed.
Brennan wasn't sure why she was so nervous. Booth had obviously seen her dressed up before…but there was something that seemed so much more intimate about seeing her wearing potential dresses. Possibly because, when he'd seen her before, it had been wearing something she'd previously chosen and was comfortable in. Trying clothes on for the first time always housed the possibility for disaster. And there he was, wide eyes witness to her potential disaster.
"You look…that is…it's stunning, Bones. It's just stunning."
She ducked her head slightly in embarrassment.
"You really think so?"
He held her gaze.
"Absolutely."
She hastily fought her way back around the curtain to slip into the next possibility and give her blood time to return to normal speed. She felt as though her pulse should be visible pounding through her veins. One smouldering look from that man and…no. No time for that now.
The next dress was nice…it just didn't suit her as well as the first for some reason. Neither could put a finger on the cause for this…but they both unanimously agreed that this was the case.
Brennan slid back behind the material barrier to try the final dress. She took longer than she had the previous two times and Booth was getting quite antsy by the time she finally pulled back the curtain.
She looked incredible. Some strands of hair had come free of the hairstyle and were now floating softly around her face. Her eyes were wide and sparkling, desperate, but afraid to ask outright, for approval. The dress was a deep red, almost wine colour. The thinnest spaghetti straps circled her creamy shoulders, giving way to an expanse of material that synched in tightly at her waist and then flowed freely to the floor. Delicate diamante jewels adorned the top section of the gown. The sumptuousness of the shade brought out the intense colour of her lips and the gleam in her gaze.
"I…"
Unable to form a coherent sentence, Booth managed to pull himself from his sitting position and move across the floor until he was standing in front of his partner.
"That is…I always knew you were the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. Now you've just proven it, without a doubt."
Instinctively, Brennan stepped back from the closeness of his person. She was more than a little confused at the fire she could clearly see dancing in his eyes.
"I should go get changed…I guess I've found my dress…"
Booth nodded vehemently. He made his way mutely back to his little seat. He glanced back up at Brennan once he'd settled himself down.
She gave him a little grin.
"You're gonna have to close your mouth sometime, Booth."
She closed the curtain with a flourish.
She was making fun of him! She was actually ridiculing the fact that he appreciated the way she looked…after all he'd done for her today…hadn't given out about the way she'd bossed him around…he'd been humiliated. The memory of her embarrassing him after their little pancake making incident came flooding back. Finally, a perfect opportunity for revenge.
He crept silently over to her cubicle, only just resisting the urge to hum the James Bond theme tune as he did so. He turned an ear to face the curtain. He heard a little sigh…a small bump…and finally the rustle as the material hit the floor.
Not waiting a millisecond, lest she grab some item of clothing with which she could use to cover herself, he pulled back the curtain rather forcefully.
There she stood. Clad in only a little black bra and matching panties. A delicate floral design stitched in pink followed the underwear's edge, which he allowed his eyes to appreciatively follow. The reflection in the mirror informed him that the back of the bra consisted of an almost lacy design incorporating the same pink stitching.
Startled, Brennan jumped backwards with a scream. She tripped up over the pooled material on the floor. Booth's arm shot out and grabbed hold of her wrist.
"What on earth do you think…?"
Booth barely had time to explain about the rebuttal for the towel taking fiasco when a rather scandalised voice interrupted him.
"What are you doing?"
Booth hastily turned to face a blonde twenty-something year old looking at him expectantly. Her nametag identified her as Kelly, a store employee.
"I was just…em…see, this" he indicated over to Brennan, who was holding the chosen dress up against her, "is my girlfriend and…well, we don't use curtains at home…nothing I haven't seen before..."
At the girl's glare, he added, "Sorry for coming in here in the first place, but we just figured, seeing as nobody else was here…"
The girl's face softened and she nodded.
Booth flashed Brennan a smile.
"See, honey, no harm done."
Then, simply because he knew another opportunity like this mightn't arise for quite some time, he bridged the gap between them and captured her lips with his own. To his intense surprise, after a second or two of sheer astonishment, she responded. Her soft, warm lips pushed gently against his own. Her hands moved to grip his forearms. His body was now holding the dress firmly to her. He could feel her eyelashes fluttering. She let out a soft, breathy sigh, sending tingles racing across his lips.
A small throat clearing from behind them sent the two springing apart. Mouths slightly open, cheeks healthily flushed, they both shot the girl sheepish grins, Brennan quickly pulling the material against herself once more.
"Sorry."
She simply shook her head, smiling, and walked away from the pair.
"I better go wait outside."
Brennan nodded mutely. Suddenly, her face became stern.
"Booth, you shouldn't have done that. You know how I feel about lying…"
Before she had time to blink, Booth's face was inches from hers. Mischief glinted in his eyes and a smile tugged irresistibly on his lips as he dropped his gaze lingeringly towards her own, slightly parted, lips. She shivered.
He pulled back and began walking towards the exit, throwing over his shoulder as he did, "And now I know how you feel about kissing me."