Title: Hang Overs and Love Letters
Author: Digital Dork
A/N: Thank you reviewers for all your encouraging words for chapter one. For all of you who wanted me to continue, here it is. I started out thinking this would be only a one or two chapter thing … but my muse is telling me otherwise. Who knows! Anywho, enjoy!!!
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Temperance Brennan glanced at the clock on her computer before rereading her short e-mail to the Forhistorik Museum.
Dear Dr. Schleswig:
The skull is perfectly preserved and I intend to have Angela Montenegro, our specialist in forensic facial reconstruction here at the Jeffersonian, begin on the reconstruction first thing tomorrow morning. I don't want to assume, but we should have a face drawn and accurate by tomorrow evening.
I should also have an accurate cause of death by tomorrow evening as well.
Thank you again for the honor and opportunity,
Temperance Brennan.
It was 8:47pm. She figured she could stay for another two-hours or so before she'd make herself go home and catch up on sleep and laundry.
Suddenly, her phone began to vibrate across t he table. It always interested her that she could hear her phone vibrate before she could feel her phone vibrate. Picking up the phone, she realized that Booth had sent her a text message.
From: Seeley Booth
Im coming 2 the lab. I no ur there. Creeeeepy, huh? ;)
Received:
Thur, 8:49 pm
She smiled at his text. She didn't think it was creepy that Booth knew she would still be at the lab, but she did know that the lab was where her friends knew she would be around this time at night. Was that a good thing?
Thirteen minutes later her heard the familiar beeping of the security entrance and footsteps in the direction of her office.
Brennan's smile greeted him as he walked in and tossed his coat onto the coat rack.
"Stalking me, Booth?"
"Let me take you out tonight." It was stated so simply and honestly, Brennan didn't know what to say.
It wasn't the normal "Lets get pie." "Wanna head over to Wong-Fu's?" God, it wasn't even a "Hey, Bones. How are you?"
It was a simple 'Let me take you out tonight.'
This was defiantly more than just getting coffee.
This was defiantly more than just 'Hi. How are you?'
She broke eye contact and shuffled through the piles of papers on her desk, hoping it would create more of an emphasis, "I'm really busy, here. I have to identify this 7,000-year 'bog mummy' from Denmark. The Forhistorisk Museum has been extremely patient with me for the las --"
"--he's been dead for 7,000 years, Bones. One more night isn't gonna kill him." He interrupted her before she continued to find more excuses to not leave the lab.
"That's because he's already dead, Booth," she bluntly stated the obvious. Brennan was becoming irritated with him and his puns. Obligations were obligations. They were priorities. Getting dinner with Booth at that moment was not a priority.
To any other woman, getting dinner with Booth would defiantly be a priority. Especially if he stated it the way that he had to her.
"Alright. Fine. I'm leaving." Booth was trying so hard to not mention her confession to his last week about how much she wanted a connection with other people. At least he could honestly say that he had tried to get her to go out.
Maybe she just didn't want to have a connection with him. Maybe that's why she hadn't picked up on the subtlety of his innuendo at their therapy session earlier this week, either. She didn't want to be anything more than work partners. Either way, they were still friends and friends go out to dinner together. Normally.
He also knew that he had given her no notice before barging into the lab, and Bones didn't work that way. He couldn't just waltz into her office and expect her to let him sweep her off her feet, away from her passion, and romance her with food.
He could have hit her over the head with a club and dragged her to dinner by her hair. She'd be pissed, but she'd have to at least give him brownie points for approaching her from an anthropological standpoint.
"We could just order in? Thai?" She looked up at him with an expectant smile. Truth was, she did need to identify the bog man, but she didn't want Booth to leave quite yet. How'd Ange put it? "Have your Danish and eat it, too?"
Booth shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he thought about the option. After a short moment he answered, "No."
"No?" She repeated.
"No. I want to get you out of this lab. Not watch you slurp chicken panang and mess around with some dead guy's stomach contents."
Feeling offended, she instantly objected. "First of all, I do not slurp. Secondly, he doesn't have stomach contents. Mummified bodies are often so dehydrated that stomach contents normally don't—"
"I don't care, Bones! Right now I care about getting you out of this lab and maybe spend some time with me outside of work. So forget it, I'll order you Thai to be delivered and I'll see you tomorrow." He grabbed his jacket from the coat rack in her office, and began to put it on.
She looked at him stunned. He wanted to spend time with me? Outside of work?
So this was more than just coffee? Dinner was more than coffee, right?
Her eyes darted to the unsent email and back to Booth putting on his jacket.
"Booth, wait. Let me edit this email and we'll go."
He pivoted around in the doorway. "You're leaving your bogman? For little ol' me?" He smiled at her and winked before reaching for her jacket and purse.
She playfully glared at him before looking back to her email. "Don't get used to this, Booth. You're just lucky you caught me when I was getting hungry."
"Riiiiiiiight, Bones."
Brennan hit the send button and walked around the desk to meet him by the office door. Booth placed the jacket over her shoulders and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
"See, Bones? This is what the living world calls fun. It's called 'having a life'."
Her brow wrinkled with confusion for a moment. "I'm living, therefore, I have a life, Booth."
He let out a light laugh before guiding her to the lab's exit. "Forget it, Bones. Now. Where do you want to go for fooding?"
"Anywhere 'fun'." She answered honestly. "Anywhere with you."
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That night, Dr. Schleswig checked his email, anticipating a letter from Dr. Brennan.
Dear Dr. Schleswig:
The skull is perfectly preserved and I intend to have Angela Montenegro, our specialist in forensic facial reconstruction here at the Jeffersonian, begin on the reconstruction first thing tomorrow morning. I don't want to assume, but we should have a face drawn and accurate by tomorrow evening.
I should also have an accurate cause of death by early this weekend. It's getting late here, and I have dinner plans tonight.
I apologize for the delay.
Thank you again for the honor and opportunity,
Temperance Brennan.
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Oooooooo, what'd ya think? If you think I should continue it, let me know.
Maybe the next chapter will be their dinner date? Is it a date?? XD
Digital Dork