The room was shadowed and gray when he woke again, and the first sight that met his slitted eyes was Brennan's bare back sitting in front of him. He traced her spine with the tip of a finger, watching with pleasure as she arched in response.
"Morning."
"It's raining," she responded, staring through the bed hangings toward the balcony door.
He peered around her and sure enough, just visible through the haze of silk he saw water falling in thick, heavy raindrops onto the surface of the small table.
"mmm." Eyes closed, Booth let his head fall back to the pillow.
"Why is it raining?" Her disgruntled tone made the change in weather sound like a personal insult.
He yawned widely and ruffled his hair with one hand.
"Water evaporates . . . makes a cloud . . ."
Brennan slapped at the leg closest to her. "I understand the mechanics of precipitation, Booth. But . . . it's raining," she said again. "Our plans for today don't include rain. What are we going to do now?" She frowned at the doorway as if the rain were falling deliberately.
A long arm snaked out to encircle her waist.
He pulled her down beside him, then covered her body with his.
"We'll think of something."
.
.
I gave you 5000 words in Chapter 4. No complaining that Booth and Brennan are too busy *hem hem* to talk to me right now. :-)
Thanks for reading!