Yes. I know. I shouldn't start a new fic before I've started an old one, and I've got a lot in progress and to finish. But... the muse calls when it does. Sorry. And I don't want to deprive you of smut and making love stories in the meantime. Forgive me?

Two Bodies in the Lab

She's standing there in that black dress with that bandage over that goose egg that fucking traitorous bastard, I should have shot him right in the heart, left on her head when he fucking pistol whipped her, pistol whipped her for Christ's sake, having just come back after she stepped out in the hall to take a call from that stupid douche David who she's supposed to be going out on a goddamned date with-- but instead of saying goodbye, she tosses her stuff on the chair just inside the door and sits down next to me. "I've got a headache anyway," she says, but I wonder. She still doesn't look quite like her usually snotty "I'm fine" self, and frankly, I'd just as soon she not go anywhere until that knot that formed in my gut as soon as I realized what Kenton did goes away. Seeing that murderous sonofabitch practically crack her head open didn't do that knot any good either. I'm only starting to feel like I'm not in the middle of a goddamned fucking coronary. If she stays put for a bit so I can just keep checking to make sure she's breathing, I should be just peachy real soon.

So we watch Grapes of Wrath, which she's actually seen before, and then another classic movie after the nurse comes in and checks me out and gives Bones a bit of a look, but which Bones gives back a thousand times worse-- so the nurse leaves and they mostly leave us alone after that. She's leaning against the side of the bed, half curled up in her chair. She kicked her heels off a while ago, and curled those white legs of hers up under her skirt, and all I can see is the back of her head as she leans on her hand, watching the movie. Eventually, though, her head starts to droop, and before I know it, she's fallen asleep, her head lolling against my leg under the blanket. I'm not sure whether to wake her up or not-- they wouldn't have let her go from the E.R. if she had a concussion, but still. At the same time, though, there's no way I want to wake her up. As long as she's asleep right here where I can see her, then I don't have to rip any more IVs out today, which fucking hurt, by the way.

Of course, I can't sleep because every time I close my eyes all I can see is him getting ready to kill her while he's got her strung up like a side of beef, and then how completely terrified she was until I got her down off that hook. I've never seen her cry before, and I know her by now. It may well be years before she lets me see that again. At least the fact that I won't be walking straight for a week gave her something to focus on besides being terrified, so she could get it together around Hodgins and the rest of the tac team. I'd still be bawling from such a close call if my goddamned ribs didn't hurt so much. She's a tough cookie, Bones is.

Somehow, her head resting on my leg is right in reach of my fingers, and without even thinking about it I'm combing some of the strands out over the covers. Soft-- silky, and hey, I'm just a red-blooded guy who nearly let his incredibly brilliant and stubborn and sexy partner get murdered, it's only normal I'd want to make sure she was breathing and have more than a bit of a hardon from being so close to her after all that adrenaline. Only natural. There's nothing more to it than that.

Her hair's so soft, though, and damn if I don't just want to... okay. Stop it. I am not, repeat not, going to molest my sleeping partner with a goose egg on her head that I, stupid asshole that I am, failed to protect her from getting because I'm so stupid that I didn't put two and two together about who would have known where she was going and thus had a chance to take a shot at her, much less plant a bomb in her fridge, even though said hardon keeps reminding me that she's gorgeous and smells amazing and has already said once tonight that I didn't let her down when I did, goddamnit, whether she wants to believe or not. It is not cool to be thinking about what it might feel like to run my fingers through her hair and pull her head back while I lick the front of her...

Stop it. Just stop it. Think of something that makes that ragingly painful hardon crash like a bunch of kids after too much cake at a birthday party. I'm just going to close my eyes and think of something disgusting that will convince my stupid adrenaline-charged dick to calm the fuck down. Except nothing's coming to mind, stupid painkillers working all too well and yet not nearly well enough. I'm not going to think about how nice her hair feels or how nice she always smells or how I don't know what the hell I would have done if I'd gotten there five seconds too late after I'd killed Kenton with my bare hands and I'm not going to get sprung all over again about how relieved she seemed to see me. I'm especially not going to think about how my imagination is definitely getting the best of me because now I'm fantasizing about how she's stroking the inside of my thigh through the blanket. Wait.

I crack an eye, and yep, I'm not imagining it. She's drawing circles on the inside of my thigh as I keep combing my fingers through her hair, and as I shift to sit up a little and look at her, she turns to look at me, a serious expression on her face as she shifts and rests her head, looking me and my enormously painful erection right in the face. The look on her face seems to say the same thing mine probably does.

I want you. Now.

"Stay put," she says, getting up to shut the door, lower the blinds and turn most of the lights off, then comes back and strokes me through the blanket, her expression hungry and something else. She pushes the blanket back as she sits on the side of the bed, and takes in my not-so-little-soldier standing at full attention through my pjs. She looks up at me then, and says just, "push yourself up on your arms." I do, and she pulls my pants down quickly but without making me flinch, and the next thing I know she's somehow settled herself on the bed and her head's in my lap and oh, holy shit.

Wow. Usually those lips are formed around some sarcastic crack or some squint babble I'm only just starting to get the hang of but right now they're wrapped around me. So hot, so wet, and her hand's holding me steady when she lets me go to lick me all over. Her firm velvet tongue's stroking over me like I'm an ice cream cone on a hot summer day and she's got to lick me up before I melt.

"Bones," I hear myself groan, and her breath's hot on me as she says huskily "Just lie back and enjoy it," then takes me into her mouth again.

I try, really I do, and I'm really enjoying it, more than I've ever enjoyed one before, because she's brilliant at this like she's brilliant at everything else, and she's sucking me so slow and hard while she plays with my balls that I can't help but jerk upwards a bit despite my best efforts not to ram down her throat. Any other time than right now slow would be good-- forever would be good-- but I need her now, and I need to see her face, and I need her to not look so scared, so not Bones anymore, and I just need her now. She's already started sucking me faster and if I don't stop her now...

"Oh, God, Bones, stop," I manage to gasp, and she just turns her head and looks up at me with that still-hungry but still scared look in her eye and my desperate cock buried under her silky hair.

"Come here," I say, tugging the back of her head until she sits up most of the way, looking me straight in the face. "I want you to ride me," I say. Now's not the time for romantic speeches, I just need to break through the ice still clenching my heart in my chest and pound that scared look off her face.

"You're too hurt," she says, "just let me do this for you." Oh, God. Any other time but right now, honestly. This is going to seriously hurt, but I don't fucking care.

"Bones, I want you to ride me so hard you forget what your name is," I say gruffly, and she looks a little shocked, but doesn't resist when I tug at her arm.

She kneels up and straddles my lap, the silky fabric of her skirt puddling over my stomach and knees as she grabs the bedframe over my shoulders. I'm running my hands up under her skirt and along the insides of her thighs, her dear God in Heaven toned silky thighs, and she's soaked right through her panties. I shove the fabric aside and she's dripping wet as I drag my fingers over her, and she hisses a breath in, her eyes closed as I look up at her.

I line us up and hold on to my cock as I pull her down toward me, and when my tip's just at her entrance, I pull her down hard, slamming her hips into mine. She grunts when I bang up into her, and I can't help my own "Fuck" when she takes me all the way in.

"Fuck, you feel good," I groan, grabbing her waist as I push her back up only to slam her back down again. She catches the rhythm fast, and her arms are flexing as she hangs on to the bed and rides me harder than I've ever been ridden before. I know I could seriously fuck up my ribs, but I don't give a damn, I just need to feel her alive and screaming around me.

She'd give a thoroughbred jockey a run for his money, and it's the best goddamn thing I've ever seen, how hard she's concentrating and the way her brow wrinkles up every time I slam her down onto me. She's just getting wetter, too, and I'm panting as I grind out, "you scared me so much today, Bones," and she slams even harder onto me, grinding her hips into mine and squeezing me from the inside until I gasp.

"You think... that fridge... didn't scare the life out of me?" she pants, her eyes boring into mine as the sweat beads on her forehead.

"Don't you do that again," she orders, grinding down hard again onto me, but then cries out I when push her up fast and bring her down again. Her head falls forward, and she loses the rhythm, but that's okay because she's not heavy at all and she moves under my hands like putty. She cries out loudly again and I slam her back onto me, then brings one of the arms bracing herself up to her mouth, then bites down as I speed it up even faster.

It hurts like a bitch between the ribs and the collarbone both getting ground around as I pant and use my arms so much to keep pulling her to me, but that's all background to the feel of her walls gripping me and those whimpers she's making as she tries to bite down on her screams so some nurse doesn't come along while I'm pounding the fear out of both of us.

Eventually she's making these little whimpers instead of the fuck-me cries she was making, so I say "lean forward and hold on again" as I give her a little jerk toward me and down. She whimpers again and almost flops forward as she braces her arms behind me again, and as I reach between us to rub her clit as I grit my teeth and start to pump her a little myself, her forehead rests against mine in an echo from earlier-- and she's panting in my face again, too, except this time she just looks dazed and thoroughly fucked and not afraid for her life. That ice cracks and I start to come inside her just as I pinch her between my fingers-- she clamps me so hard that it rips the rest of it out of me and I have to bite her in the arm so I don't roar and make all the nurses come running. She clamps around me again when I sink my teeth into her, and makes this high pitched squealing noise that I'm sure means we're going to get caught as we both pant and moan. But it doesn't seem to be happening, not right now, and she looks at me, sweaty and panting and so alive and says "again." I'm not sure I can keep it up with my cock, I'm really hurting again, but God gave me two hands for a reason. I push her up until I slide out of her, then let my hand trace up her thigh, right before I...

"What!"

What the hell is that noise and who the hell's touching me and where the fuck am I? The nurse jumps two feet in the air, squeaking and dropping the blood pressure cuff she's adjusting.

"I... I'm so sorry, Agent Booth, I didn't mean to wake you..." she half-whispers, and it's all I can do to not growl at her.

"What time is it?" I manage.

"Two-thirty in the morning."

I look around, and of course it's just me in the hospital room. "When did Dr. Brennan leave?"

The nurse looked rather disgusted. "Oh, just an hour ago. She overstayed visiting hours, she actually fell asleep and was leaning rather too close to your ribs for your safety. I made her leave. She seemed rather confused, but visitors simply can't be allowed to endanger patients' health."

She's lucky I don't have my gun. I settle for the dirtiest look of my life when I say something I'd never have the guts to say if Bones was actually here.

"I'd feel a lot better with her here."

I hurt too much to even do anything about the raging boner I've got under the covers after the nurse leaves, and just sigh. It's going to be a long time before I fall back asleep.