Okay, here's a little fluffy goodness. Sorry for the big delay in getting this out. There will be more case stuff in the next chapter. And of course, a big thank you to FauxMaven for helping me with this chapter.
Disclaimer: Sometimes I get sick of trying to come up with funny new ways of saying that I don't own Bones. Can we just pretend that I've said something hilarious here, and get on with the story?
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Temperance Brennan jogged down the hallway toward the waiting room. When she entered the room, she immediately picked up the phone on the little table and dialed Angela's number. As she waited for Angela to pick up, she chuckled quietly to herself. She hadn't planned on kissing him; the idea had just come to her. By the look on his face when she pulled away, it might have done the job of convincing him. At least, she hoped it had.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Ange. You haven't gotten that far, have you?"
"Nope, I stopped for coffee so I'm only about 15 minutes away. Need a ride?"
"Please. I'll meet you out front."
The hour drive back to the city went surprisingly fast. She ended up telling Angela about her conversation with Booth and Angela laughed when Brennan described the kiss. They avoided talking about the ordeal in the woods—Angela seemed to understand that Brennan had repeated the story often enough in the last few hours and didn't want to do so again. Angela stopped the car in front of Brennan's apartment after refusing to bring her to work. Brennan gave her friend a quick hug in gratitude and promised to get some sleep. She waved as the car pulled away from the curb and headed inside.
Despite her overwhelming need for sleep, Brennan decided a shower was more important than bed. As steam filled the bathroom, she pulled off her clothes and checked the bandages on her abdomen. She stepped into the shower and let the hot water course over her body, easing the soreness and stiffness that had built up in her muscles over the past two days. She remembered the awkwardness in the car with Booth as they drove up to the trail head in Maryland, amazed that it had been less than forty-eight hours ago. As she massaged shampoo into her hair she tried to imagine what Booth would do when he saw her next. She didn't think he would be out of the hospital until tomorrow at least, which meant she'd be able to visit him that evening after she'd had time to nap. She wondered whether he would have an answer for her or whether he would still need time to think about it.
After rinsing the shampoo from her hair, she lathered her skin with citrus and ginger root soap. The aroma filled the bathroom and she breathed in the humid air, thick with the scent of oranges. She knew that Booth would eventually get over his worries—their attraction was too strong to resist forever. Smiling in anticipation of being able to touch Booth in more than just her dreams and fantasies, she turned the water off and stepped out of the tub.
She dried herself off quickly, only sparing a glance in the mirror, disheartened at the sight of her weary expression. She pulled her hair up off her neck and into a bun. After spending several minutes brushing her teeth, she opened the door and padded naked into the bedroom. She opened her top drawer, pulled out a thin camisole and a pair of tiny shorts, and slipped them on. The encumbrance of her pack and hiking clothes and then a confining sleeping bag left her with a claustrophobic feeling. She lay down on her bed, on top of the blankets, and closed her eyes. Within minutes she was asleep.
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She had been dreaming of Booth before she awoke. Her limbs felt heavy with sleep but she felt another kind of heaviness in her belly, for the dream had been a particularly good one. She lay still on the cool blanket, the pillow under her head damp from her hair, wondering what had awakenedher. Then she heard the knock at her door.
Rising from her bed and moving quietly down the hallway, her head felt foggy from being awakenedbefore she was ready. She peered through the peephole and was shocked to see Booth. She pulled the door open quickly.
"Booth!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"
"Hey, uh..." he hesitated, and she noticed his gaze traveling over her body. She glanced down and realized she was still in the camisole and shorts. She sighed, dismayed, before realizing that perhaps if the kiss hadn't worked, that this might.
"Yeah, hey, Bones," he finished a little lamely.
She took his hand and pulled him inside, shutting the door behind him. She turned on him, her hands on her hips.
"How did you get out of the hospital? You should be in bed. Please tell me you didn't drive," she said.
"Um, I didn't drive."
Brennan arched an eyebrow at him, waiting.
"Okay, I drove. They were going to let me go home in the morning, so I decided I might as well leave tonight." He shrugged his shoulders and she watched his eyes flick from her eyes to her lips, down to her breasts, and back up again.
"That's really quite unwise. What if you—"
"Temperance," he interrupted. "I needed to come and see you."
She hesitated at his admission. Unable to quite tell whether this was a good sign or a bad sign, she waited for him to elaborate. He took a step closer to her and his hand drifted up to rest on her arm.
"I couldn't stand the idea of you spending all night thinking that maybe I don't want you, Temperance, because I do." He focused on her face now, his eyes dark. "Believe me, I do."
Brennan swallowed and nodded at him. "So, does this mean..." she trailed off, her voice quiet.
For a moment he just stared at her and she was afraid he would say that he still didn't want to be with her. She felt a weight drop into her stomach and her muscles tensed, ready for flight. But then his lips were on hers, warm and rough, forceful, and his hands were on her back, pulling her tight against his body. She opened her mouth to him and felt his tongue dance across hers. She drew his lower lip into her mouth and sucked lightly.
Pulling back from her mouth, Booth kissed along her jaw, his tongue darting out here and there to taste her skin. He moved down her neck, pressing his mouth to her throat to feel her pulse, then down to her shoulder where he dragged his teeth along the ridge of her clavicle. She leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder, gasping when she felt his teeth or his tongue.
When she felt his hands move to her sides and inch up towards her breasts, she stepped back and smiled at him. He raised his eyebrows at her.
"Aren't you tired?" she asked.
His shoulders slumped a little, but he grinned at her. "Incredibly."
Taking him by the hand, she led him over to her couch where he gratefully sat down and motioned for her to join him. She sat next to him and he slipped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close against him. He tilted his head back to rest on the pillows and she turned, wrapping her arms around him and placed her head on his chest. She could feel his heart thumping and couldn't help counting the beats, making sure the tachycardia had resolved.
This quiet comfort, this sense of security in his arms, the rightness of her pressed against his body—it was all new to Brennan and she kept still for a long time, reveling in his warmth. After a while she noticed his breathing become regular and realized he had fallen asleep. She cringed, feeling guilty for not insisting he lie down in bed.
When she was sure he was deeply asleep, she eased herself out of his embrace and spent a moment considering him. Even with the unusual paleness to his skin and the circles under his eyes, he still looked enticing. She stifled the urge to straddle his lap and instead bent to untie his shoes, then pulled them off carefully. She lifted his legs onto the couch and coaxed him into a prone position, slipping one of her throw pillows under his head. Mumbling something in his sleep, Booth rolled onto his side, though his eyes never opened.
Brennan moved quietly into the kitchen. It was still early in the evening, early enough that she really should go into the lab and work on the case. She stood at the counter, wondering whether she should leave Booth here or take the rest of the evening off. Making up her mind, she grabbed her cellphone from the counter and tiptoed into her bedroom. She dialed Angela's office.
"Angela Montenegro."
"Hey, Ange," Brennan said, trying to keep her voice low. "I'm not going to come in for the rest of the evening, if that's okay with Cam."
"Oh, I don't think she was expecting you. She figured you'd go back up to see Booth in the hospital."
"Actually, Booth checked himself out of the hospital and is asleep on my couch."
There was a brief pause on Angela's end. "Really? They let him out already?"
"Not exactly."
Angela sighed. "What is it with these guys leaving hospitals against medical advice? First Booth, then Hodgins, now Booth again."
"I know, it doesn't make any sense."
"So, why did he leave? Was it workaholic Booth or crazy-in-love-with-you Booth?"
"There's only one Booth, Ange," Brennan said, puzzled.
"You didn't answer my question."
Brennan flushed lightly. "He said he needed to see me. That he couldn't bear the idea of me thinking he didn't want me."
"That is sickeningly cute, sweetie. So it's settled between you two then?"
"I guess."
"Well, good. Just give it a day or two before you jump in bed with him, make sure you're both rested and all," Angela chuckled.
"Right. So how's work going on the case?" Brennan queried.
"Zack found a shovel/pick thingy in the pack that was definitely used to kill the victims. It has traces of blood on it, too. We'll test it for DNA."
"Okay, great. Anything else? Was there a license or anything, any ID?"
"No, nothing like that."
"Alright," Brennan sighed. "If anything comes up, I can come in if needed. Just let me know. Otherwise I'll be there in the morning."
"Okay. Tell Booth we all say Hi."
She put down her phone and looked at herself in the mirror. She thought she should probably change, especially if she didn't want to tempt Booth too much. She put on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt but decided, after a moment of thought, to forgo a bra. Pulling her hair out of the elastic, she ran her fingers through it but left it looking a little tousled.
Back in the kitchen, Brennan contemplated dinner. She thought that Booth would appreciate a home-cooked meal after two days of trail food and then hospital food. Luckily, she had a few options for things she could make. Trying to move as quietly as possible, she opened the refrigerator and pulled out a package of ground beef, a container of milk, and an egg. After putting the beef in a mixing bowl, she cracked the egg into it as well, wincing at the clink of shell against metal. In a separate bowl, she shredded a few slices of bread and soaked them in milk. While the bread absorbed the milk, she added to the beef some Worcestershire sauce, parsley, basil, and garlic. After wringing out the chilled, gooey bread, she put it in the bowl with the meat and began mixing it with her hands. The mixture was cold as it squished between her fingers, yellow egg yolk flowing into the crevices of the ground beef.
When the ingredients were properly mixed, she began rolling the mixture into balls, placing each one into a pan on the oven. She let her mind drift as she worked, finding comfort in the repetitive task. Before long her hands were rinsed and the meatballs were quietly sizzling in their pan. She put a pot of water on the stove, adding spaghetti when the water boiled. When the meatballs were cooked through, she added them to another pot into which she had poured a jar of sun dried tomato and garlic sauce. Her stomach rumbled as the warm scents of tomato and garlic filled the kitchen. She cleaned up while the food cooked, pleased that she had been able to cook a meal without waking Booth.
After setting her table and plating the food, she returned to the couch and knelt on the floor next to Booth. She hated to wake him but she knew if he slept much longer he'd be awake all night. Resting her hand on his thigh, she rubbed his leg gently, feeling his firm muscles through his jeans. His eyes flickered open and he smiled sleepily, reaching out to her. He pulled her against him, wrapping his arms tightly around her and burying his face in her hair as he mumbled his gratitude for the nap.
When he lifted his head, he frowned at her, though his eyes showed his amusement. "You changed your clothes."
She chuckled as she extricated herself from his grasp. "Come on, dinner's ready. Let's get up."
"You cooked? Bones, you shouldn't have," he grinned at her as he sat up and stretched.
She returned the grin. "Well, you're such a pleasure to cook for."
Brennan couldn't help blushing as they sat down at the table. She had set out her nicest dishes and even lit candles, but what had seemed a good idea earlier now felt a little contrived. Booth smiled at her, though, and the appreciative moan he gave as he sampled his meal helped put her worries at ease. They ate quietly at first, both focusing on sating their hunger. With her plate half empty, she set down her fork and turned to Booth.
"Why were you so hesitant with me before?" She always thought directness was best, and especially after such a trying few days, had no patience for subtlety.
Booth took a moment to finish chewing, then set down his fork as well.
"Well, I know this will probably surprise you, being that I'm so, you know, manly and all," he winked at her. "But I was scared. Well, I still am, really."
"What are you scared about?" she asked.
He shrugged. "Everything. About us taking unnecessary risks, about impairing our judgment, about us," he gestured back and forth between them, "not being as good as the, uh, tension would suggest." He grinned sheepishly. "You know, pretty much everything."
"I know," she nodded. "I'm worried about all of that as well."
They were silent for a moment before Brennan spoke again.
"What changed your mind?"
"Well, my therapist helped a little. But seeing that couple in the woods, you know, the first night? Well, I thought about how nice it would be to have that sort of thing with you, to be able to touch you and kiss you whenever I wanted, to call you goofy names—"
"You already call me goofy names," she interjected.
He waved a hand dismissively. "Yeah, yeah. Well, anyway, I decided that might be worth a little risk-taking and lack of judgment."
Brennan chuckled, thinking of what she did when Gallagher kidnapped Booth. "Yeah, because we never take risks or exercise poor judgment."
He grinned at her. "That's what Gordon Gordon said."
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With dinner finished, Booth and Brennan reclined on her couch. Brennan thought dinner had gone well; in addition to getting an explanation from him, Booth had certainly expressed his enthusiasm for her cooking. By unspoken agreement, they had not talked of the case while they ate, but now here in the living room, Brennan brought Booth up to date on everything that her team had discovered. Likewise, he had already called his office and told her that the FBI agents who had come along with the rescue group hadn't been able to get much useful information from the hikers at the shelter. As Booth spoke of the trail and the rescue, his mood darkened noticeably. Brennan placed her hand on his arm.
"I don't really know what that was like for you on the trail, but I'm sorry that you had to go through it," she said.
Booth snorted. "It wasn't that it was too painful or anything," he scoffed. "It's just, you know, that I should have been better able to handle it."
"Handle what, exactly?"
"Well, the drug. I mean, we were trained for that sort of stuff in the military."
Brennan rolled her eyes at him. "Come on, Booth. You clearly got a lot more of the drug than was intended. Remember how fast you drank your water?"
"I guess," he shrugged. "I just, well, I know I said some not so nice things to you. Then there was the whole vomiting all over you thing." A light pink tinge crept across his face as he spoke.
She chuckled and squeezed his forearm. "When you're feeling better, I'll let you make it up to me. How does that sound?"
"What did you have in mind?" he grinned.
Brennan shrugged and winked at him. "Surprise me."
"You're trouble, aren't you?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," she smirked at him.
Booth stretched and yawned, hastily covering his mouth. "Sorry, speaking of not feeling one hundred percent. I should probably get home." He yawned again.
"Oh, right," she said and looked down at her hands. "Maybe you should stay here tonight." At Booth's startled cough, she glanced up at him, cheeks aflame.
"Sure, I can, you know, sleep in the guest room or something," he nodded.
"Well, right, if that's what you want," she mumbled.
"Bones," he said, grinning. "I don't think I have the energy to, uh, do anything other than sleep."
"No, I understand. I didn't think that, I just thought for the company, or something..." she trailed off, cringing inwardly at her babbling.
Abruptly he stood and took her hands in his, helping her to her feet. He pulled her hands to his lips, softly kissing her fingers. She kept her eyes downcast, embarrassed at her need to have him close. Booth slipped a finger under her chin and tilted her head up so that she was forced to meet his eyes. He leaned forward and gently brushed his lips across hers.
"Come on," he said, and led her to her bedroom.