Disclaimer: According to Brian McKnight, "When the eagles forget how to fly, and it's 20 below in July, and when violets turn red and roses turn blue" I'll own Bones.
So this one isn't really funny, but I didn't want to make another story. But guess what? This ain't mild smut, or slightly mild smut, this is ALL OUT SMUT. So kiddies, run away now.
"Phillipa Sanders is just as guilty as Delilah Chang isn't she? Even though she did not actually chop Peter Morris with the axe, she stood there and watched Delilah do it. She handed her the murder weapon; her prints are on it. That therefore means she is responsible partly for his death. She could have refused to hand Delilah the axe, but she didn't. She could have also untied him. But she refused to do that also. She is definitely going to jail."
"Bones, you need to be quiet," said Booth, whispering so that the men further down the alley did not hear him. They were following Bert Hammond, a hit man, as he walked by the club near his house. He was going up the stairs to his house, where Booth had witnessed a young woman going up a minute ago. Booth thought maybe it was his sister, but remembering the man's file, he recalled he had no immediate family. The other possibility lay in the fact that she could be his girlfriend. But the girl didn't even look eighteen, and Bert was pushing forty. He cringed.
"Is there any possibility that she might be able to get off. She is claustrophobic and I can bet that she would feel very uncomfortable in a cell. Do you remember how she screamed when you brought her into the interrogation room, Booth?"
Bert stopped, turned around as if he had heard the name. He and Booth did not have a very good relationship, him having a penchant for burying his victims in shallow graves and Booth having been at the business end of his M-16. Booth squeezed his eyes shut, as if it would will him to disappear when Bert turned around.
"Shut up, Bones," he turned and whispered low in her ear.
"But honestly Booth, that poor girl cannot be incarcerated in her condition, can she? I can imagine that a judge my not see it my way, but…"
"BONES!"
The last was hissed, as Booth saw Bert turn around and head back up the alley to where he and Bones were standing. Then he started walking.
Crap! He was coming right at them, and even though he couldn't see them in the shadow, just a few steps more and he would come right upon them.
It was too late to run.
"Booth. Booth, he's…"
He cut her off. With his mouth. He had spun around, panicked and remembered the first few scenes of Mission: Impossible. Two people making out at the side of an alley didn't scream stakeout. So he did it, he pressed his partner up against the wall and kissed her.
What he didn't count on was her sigh of surprise.
Knowing that Bert could easily identify him by his favourite jacket, Booth quickly stripped it off and flung it on the ground beside them. Why he also pressed his partner up against the wall with his hips was anybody's guess.
She moaned, and he panicked for three seconds thinking that Bert would suspect something. But then again, moaning was what people did while making out in the alley beside a club.
The footsteps stopped. He could almost feel Bert's eyes on them a little before his footsteps became fainter and fainter as he walked back to his apartment.
Booth waited until they were gone before breaking the kiss, "You see Bones, next time we're on a stakeout and I tell you to shut up, just shut up!"
"Yeah. Whatever. Come here."
Bones pulled him to her again, hanging on to his belt buckle this time. He gasped as her hands undid the belt and the fly of his pants.
"Bones! What are you…?"
"And you're the one that complained about me wearing a skirt," she commented as she plunged a hand into his under wear, sending his nerve endings into orbit at her touch.
"Bones! We- we can't- we can't do this here."
"You started it," she said childishly, pulling his pants down a little and bracing her back on the wall as she climbed up on him. She wrapped her legs around his waist, guiding him into her and kissing away his moan of pleasure.
"Oh my God!" was all he could think to say when she allowed him to come up for air.
"Oh, Booth!" she screamed. He was sure that could probably be heard all the way down the alley where Bert's house was, but at the moment he didn't care as he rocked back and forth, pulling in and out of his partner.
They were pumping against each other, cutting off one another's air supply as their mouths fused together. He could feel her orgasm on the horizon, and though in any other circumstance, he would have delayed it as long as possible, the urge to just let loose inside of her was too overwhelming. He rocked harder, faster, until he felt her seize around him. He exploded right before her, and as her mouth came back over his, he felt a satisfaction that he never even knew he wanted.
"So just shut up next time okay?" he said unnecessarily. He felt her head nod on his shoulder.
"We should go," she slid down the wall and started fixing her clothes and he followed, taking his shirt off the dirty alley floor.
"Yeah. We've done our jobs. Two FBI guys are coming to watch the house till morning."
They walked toward the SUV together, though a little apart. His instinctual urge to touch her made him place a hand on the small of her back.
She stopped walking and looked at him. In her eyes was an unanswered question. He shrugged and pulled his hand away guiltily, but she caught it and held it firmly.
"How late is it? Do you think the diner's still open?" she asked, swinging his hand a little.
Booth ignored his heart exploding in his chest a moment, "Maybe not. I could eat some pie."
Now where the heck did that come from? I was here reading some Scenes from a Hat stories that I like, when I just suddenly decided to take Hannah's advice (Hannah that she gave me for another story (Thanks BTW, honey). So review now. I'm dying to hear what you think.