Slow
hands (PG)
Author: wanderingsmith
March 2006
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Who's playing that music? And who's going to tango....
Warning: B/B
Disclaimer: I ain't got no money, and nobody'd be daft enough to pay me
for this.
An: just a scene I had stuck in my head and decided to try to put down
Goto Chapter 8
Go to Chapter 7 (NC-17) in
the NC17 page
Go to Chapter 6
Go to Chapter 5
Go to Chapter 4 (NC-17) in
the NC17 page
Go to Chapter 3
Goto Chapter 2
Chapter one
As Booth walked into the Jeffersonian, he could hear music, loud
volume, muffled by walls, the low sexy beat evocative of a hot crowded
dance floor.
He grinned and wondered who he'd get to tease for being in the mood as
he followed the sound deeper into the building. He'd half expected to
end up in Angela's domain and, as the song changed, was slightly
shocked to realize the music was coming from Temperance's office
instead.
“ Darlin' don't say
a word, cause I already heard
What your body's sayin' to mine“
Temperance closed her eyes and listened to the words as the beat behind
the music snaked through her, hips swaying with every pulse.
“ I want a man with
a slow hand”
Her hands pretend-smoothed down her ribs to her thighs as her whole
body
swayed to the hastening rhythm.
After several weeks of too much FBI stress and too little time for her
own work, she'd decided to try an old college trick to relax; sexy
music and mental permission to think whatever thoughts chose to come.
And if this time she'd known very well where her thoughts would go..
well, who was to know.
She knew there was an uncharacteristically large smile on her face as
she imagined dancing like this with Booth, his oh so familiar bedroom
eyes fixed on her and promising to take her over the moon.
“ On shadowed
ground, with no one around
And a blanket of stars in our eyes
We are drifting free, like two lost leaves
On the crazy wind of the night”
Lost in the music, amused at her own thoughts, she opened her eyes and
saw Booth standing in the doorway, eyes wide, breathing through lips
lightly parted on a faint grin.
“ Darlin', don't
say a word, 'cause I already heard
What your body's sayin' to mine”
He saw her eyes widen slightly as her body missed a few beats; but then
her smile turned into an outright come-hither grin and she went back to
dancing. His breath hitched for a moment at the blatant way her half
closed eyes undressed him as her lips followed the lyrics, though the
stereo was too loud for him to hear her voice.
“ 'Cause I got a
man with a slow hand
I got a lover with an easy touch
I found somebody who will spend some time
Not come and go in a heated rush
I found somebody who will understand
When it comes to love, I want a slow hand”
There was a very faint voice at the back of his mind, reminding him
that she could kick his butt if he tried something she didn't want. But
the temptation of her sweetly moving body and the sexy beat pounding
the room were far louder as he stepped up to her back.
Temperance let her eyes close as she felt his arms come around her, his
chest come to rest surrounding her shoulder blades. She raised her
hands behind her head to his neck as he joined her, swaying to the
music, their hips pressed and his lips tickling her ear.
“ If I want it all
night
Please say it's alright
It's not a fast move
But a slow groove
On my mind”
The husky tone in his soft whisper, the warm breath tracing her cheek,
all left her shivering and unconsciously resting more of her weight on
him. She didn't want to think, didn't want to remember her inability to
connect with anyone, let alone men. If this sweet, mutual seduction was
wrong, was a mistake, she would deal with it in the morning light.
For now, even as the song ended, his head turned that little bit, his
lips laying a deliberate kiss to her ear as another song started, and
all she felt was the warmth of his heavy body, the safety of his wide
shoulders supporting her. And the growing arousal, hers and his; his
hands now flat against her belly holding her tight against him.
AN: The song I went with is 'Slow Hands' by the Pointer Sisters.
I*know* I heard a more modern version at some point on the radio,
though the only one I can find now has that 70s sounds to it.. oh well;
good lyrics, good beat and what I'm thinking was playing as he entered
the building.. Black velvet, Alannah Miles; slow, sultry, with
a beat to get you movin'....
Chapter
Two
The morning before
Bones sighed as she sat down at her desk. 'A full night's sleep
should
have more effect than this!' She'd slept 8 hours straight, yet
she'd
still had to drag herself out of bed this morning. And she could
still feel remnants of cotton clouding her thoughts! Damned FBI.
She knew she was being unfair, the FBI didn't create cases, they just
responded to them. On the other hand, they, and a certain agent
in
particular, made for very handy targets to blame for lack of
sleep, short temper and the work pilling up to be done.
“Hey Sweety, you look like you need this.”
Temperance raised her head from it's position flopped on her chair's
headrest. She gave Angela a grateful smile for the coffee she
was holding out. “Thanks Ange.”
“Seriously hon, you look beat. Why don't you go home and get some
more rest? I'm sure Dr. Goodman would be right behind me.”
“Umm, and these bones are just going to identify themselves? I'm
fine Angela, I had a full night's sleep.”
“One night out of 21 does not 'fine' make.”
She added as she turned to
walk back out, “And those bones won't get identified at all if you
give yourself a heart attack.”
Temperance shook her head with a smile, she counted herself lucky to
have Angela's friendship, no matter how demanding it sometimes felt
to try to keep up her side.
Not for the first time, she reminded herself why she stayed out of
serious relationship with men. That would be a whole other range
of demanding.
As it too often did, thoughts of relationships brought Booth to mind,
which brought the last few weeks of FBI hell to mind. 6 cases in
21days, Angela had exaggerated somewhat in her estimate, but she
certainly hadn't stayed in her house more than four hours at a stretch
during that period. Her two trips out of town with Booth to dig
up
crime scenes had been madness as they simultaneously tried to continue
running other cases here in DC. Thank God for the rest of her
team.
Without their willingness to cooperate with the FBI (thank you Hodgins)
and to do some of the legwork she usually did with Booth... well, say
what they will, without 'Squints' eyes in the field, cases would
take far longer to get all their evidence found.
She started her morning routine of booting the computer, checking mail
and the inbox on her desk. 'Did we sleep in the SUV one
night??' She
frowned as she tried to remember the details around the sudden mental
image. She could remember sitting in the back with a case file
spread
on the floor in front of them, the car parked at a crime scene in the
forest in Nebraska in the middle of the night. After spending
four
hours digging up the bones that were found and sending them back to DC,
they were trying to decide what their next step needed to be.
Knowing
all the while that they also had an open case back home that was
going to get cold if they didn't get back.
And then she could remember waking up, slightly stiff but warm and
cozy. As her senses started to wake up, she realized the warm pillow
was Booth, what she'd thought was a cat purring was actually his light
snore, and the reason she was stiff was that his arm was holding her
curled against his side as he leaned back against the wall of the
SUV with his head dropping on hers.
Neither of them had said a word when he woke as she started to move
away. He was as worn down as she was, chasing suspects and
information,
on his own or with her and then standing over her shoulder and
theorizing as she and her team analyzed whatever remains were at the
centre of the case. Between her and Angela, they'd managed to
insist
that Zack and Hodgins go home at reasonable times after the first 3
days of working well into the night, and Angela was always wise enough
to know when to quit and give her mind a chance to recharge.
She'd
tried to send Booth home too, or at least to her couch for some rest,
but he'd said flatly that he couldn't sleep any more than she could
with
the case the way it was.
She could only hope that it was over now. They'd closed their
last case
yesterday afternoon, it was all in the hands of the lawyers now.
And
she'd made it through the night without being woken by a tired Booth on
her cell. And no emails. She closed her eyes and sighed
softly before
taking a deep breath, stretching her neck and shoulders and
getting up. She had dark age bones to verify.
---------------------------------------------------
By five o'clock she'd only managed half the work she'd expected to get
through and she could feel tiredness trying to scratch her eyes
out. By
six the building was pitch quiet, everyone gone home, even Angela,
though not before trying to chivvy Temperance into leaving. She
was
starting to feel light-headed and decided she would just finish
replying to her emails and call it a day.
By seven, she'd passed over 'the wall' and gotten her second
breath.
And if she wasn't quite her usual collected self.. there was no one
there to notice and convince her that she was as good as high
on exhaustion fumes.
The silence was starting to get on her too-sensitive nerves and
Temperance checked her drawers to see what music she had. She
frowned
at the third CD she found, 'Home groove' 'How did that get
here??'.
Then she remembered bringing her home-made mix for Angela to copy for a
date. Her frown cleared and she decided that it was sign from
that
'someone up above' Booth was always on about. She hadn't relaxed
with
some music since.. well, that rap club outing hadn't made it
to relaxing, not really.
------------------------------------------------------
As he closed the car door, Agent Booth frowned suddenly and checked his
watch, 'Damn, she's probably already gone home, idiot.' “Then
again, if
anyone is likely to work late, it's Bones. Might as well go in and
check, now that I'm here.” He sighed deeply as he mumbled to
himself.
He didn't even know what day it was 7:30 of. He was getting as
bad
as the anthropologist.
Before pushing the doors open, he rubbed his hands over his face a
couple times to wake up and straightened his shoulders, 'OK, find
Bones, tell her the guy pleaded guilty, try to talk her into going to
sleep and GET HOME! Right.' Plan in place, he made his way into
the darkened building.
Author's ramble : anyone remember the dance scene in The bridges of
madison county? I like eastwood, don't get me wrong, but he's not
one that I associate with romantic roles. at least not past the
kind of implied associations that most movies include for mass
appeal. yet, he and meryl managed to.. bring to mind(?),
make you feel(?) more sensuality than the best of Dirty dancing (IM
humble O). <vbg> I bet booth could do at least as
well. <sigh> since we got the bar dance, I don't
suppose there's even the remotest chance.. ah well, on to my daydreams!
Chapter three
'For now, even as the song ended, his head turned that little
bit,his lips laying a deliberate kiss to her ear as another song
started,and all she felt was the warmth of his heavy body, the safety
of his wide shoulders supporting her. And the growing arousal, hers and
his;his hands now flat against her belly holding her tight against him.'
Arousal warred with exhaustion, but the slower music reluctantly
conspired to convince Booth this was the wrong night to make a move on
his lady scientist. He signed softly, cuddling his Bones
even closer as they continued to shuffle softly around her office.
'Gazing at
people,
Some hand in hand,
Just what I’m going thru
They can understand. '
The Moody Blues, a darkened room and a sexy woman leaning back against
him in age-old surrender; Booth's eyes slid shut, 'this is what life's
about'. His head drooped tiredly forward and came to rest against
hers; the faint vanilla from her shampoo tempting him to nuzzle in
even closer.
Temperance laughed softly at the image of Booth as a cuddly
puppy. Of it's own volition, her hand moved from his neck to
trace his cheek, feeling the rarely seen scruff; warm sandpaper.
The faint scratchy sensation faded to nothing as he turned his head and
pressed his lips to her fingers; so soft, Temperance turned her
head slowly as his lips formed the heartfelt lyrics onto her
fingertips.
’cause I love
you,
Yes, I love you,
Oh, how, I love you.
Oh, how, I love you.
His eyes never opened as her fingertips guided his unresisting lips to
hers. She felt the last vibration of his voice, then he kissed
her back. Time held no meaning as she turned in his arms and
their hands glided over each other; tried to get ever closer, as their
lips met, clung, and released to meet again. Temperance wondered
later that an innocent kiss could be so intimate, that she and
Booth *could* have managed to keep it innocent; but at that moment, she
just felt. She didn't remember their noses bumping, or that first touch
of his body.. only the sense of intimacy, safety, tender care;
the sudden certainty that she'd never felt whole before, never been
safe.
The last song had long since ended when Booth's tiredness overcame the
sweet drug of affection he'd surrendered to. Reluctantly easing
out of the kiss, he tilted his head back, the hand buried in Bones'
hair bringing her head to rest on his heart as he took a deep slow
breath, trying not to sway, faintly afraid his legs would collapse
under them both. He laughed softly, "You make me dizzy,
woman." His soft voice in the silent room woke Temperance from
the
half drowse his heartbeat had put her in.
She lifted her head to respond; she was sure his words deserved
sarcasm, or at least teasing. But the effort to think was more
than she could accomplish. Instead, she shook her head at him,
unconsciously tilting it slightly. As she stood looking at his
widening smile, she saw her couch beyond him and started moving
to it.
Her arm still holding him brought Booth around and his feet
automatically joined hers toward the needed rest. There was no
thought involved when she grabbed the blanket off the arm and Booth
pulled her down over him, the blanket draped down her back, her head
returning to it's spot over his breastbone as he wrapped his arms
around
her.
Through the descending fog of much needed sleep, Temperance felt him
kiss her temple and mutter what sounded like 'Sweet dreams'.
She was smiling as they both dropped into the arms of Morpheus.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Booth woke lightly, his body following a lifetime's habit and taking a
deeper breath before turning on his side to relieve the muscle
stiffness that he was only barely conscious of. Or he tried
to. The weight on his chest restrained his breath and made him
wake completely, a small frown drawing his brows together as he opened
his scratchy-feeling eyes. The auburn hair sprawled on his
chest slowly dragged his memory up. Bones. Dancing.
He grinned. Kissing.
For a moment, he basked in that memory. But the muscle stiffness
that had woken him in the first place was still there; and the
knowledge that he'd eventually need to face Temperance sobered his
slightly manic state of mind. The frown returned as he started to
realize how out of it they'd both been. He didn't have any
regrets for what he'd done, but everything he knew about Bones made
any chances of her feeling the same slim at very best.
Nonetheless, they needed to get up, or he at least, would be
paralysed come morning.
He took one last breath, freezing this memory alongside the precious
few moments he had with Parker. He wrapped his right arm around
Bones, his left not responding, "Come on Sleepy-Bones, on your feet
Babe.", he spoke softly as he sat them up with protesting back
muscles. The exhausted woman in his arms gripped his already
mussed shirt closer for a moment before she tensed and raised her head.
He smiled at her heavy-lidded eyes as he held in a yawn and brought
them both to their feet. "We need to get to a bed Bones, this
one'll kill me by morning." He kept his voice soft and waited
for her to find her death glare and lock him out of her personal life.
Temperance tried to remember if she'd ever been so tired in her
life. His words barely registered past the instinct to rest her
head back on it's pillow.
Pillow. Bed. Booth. "Yours is closer."
Booth heard her slurred words and couldn't hold back a brief grin when
she followed them with burrowing back into him. He had to
remember this; a tired Bones was a cuddly, cooperative
Bones... He rolled his eyes as he remembered what it took to get
her this tired. Oh well, spunky Bones made life interesting;
most of the time.
Walking slowly out of respect for his tired legs, not to mention the
zombie in his arms, he got them both out of the pitch-black museum
and safely to his SUV.
------------------------------------------------------
Bones was fast asleep by the time he made it home and Booth went and
opened his front door before returning to the passenger side. The
time concentrating while he drove, combined with the night chill as he
got out of the car had him almost feeling human for the time
being. He reckoned as long as she didn't wake up and think she
was being abducted, he should be able to carry his guest into
the house; more safely than trying to get her walking.
As he walked through the door with Bones cuddled into his suit jacket
again, he laughed at life's ironies and hoped he got a chance to
tease her about carrying her over the threshold.
The car and house locked up, Booth stood watching Bones sleeping on his
bed. It was intoxicating to pretend they were a couple, home late
from an outing, Parker sleeping down the hall, taking his wife's boots
and pants off so she could sleep comfortably. But reality
intruded when he hesitated to take her shirt off too. He
might get away with having seen Bones' panties with no more than
accepting a beating, but anything else and he'd likely end up
in hospital.
As he lay down on his side beside her, he drowsily thought it would
have
been worth it.
-----------------------------------------------------
For the second time, Temperance woke to purring in her ear. She'd
almost slipped back to sleep when she realized the backdrop to the
purring sounded suspiciously like a heartbeat. The notion was so
odd that she was the rest of the way awake in an instant, her senses
all taking stock before she moved. Warm, far more
than usual. Harder bed.. not bed, skin. Her eyes
flew open and she tried to sit up, even as memory of the night before
returned. The scent of warm Booth and faint vanilla.
The arms locked around her kept her from rising, but her movement woke
the man she was using as a pillow. She idly noticed the light
shinning through the heavy curtains, 'Must be late'. The light
made it easy to see the wariness appear on Booth's features as his
synapses kicked in. She settled her chin in her palm, one
arm resting on his. bare. chest, "What are you worried about?"
The words were idle curiosity; she was busy immersing herself in her
senses. For once grateful for Saturdays, she casually debated
laying her free hand on his pectorals, or seeing how far he'd jump
if she dropped her lips to the dark nub of a nipple.
His brows rose at the calm question in her voice, "What, you don't
think I'm ever uncertain?" There was a slightly dreamy depth to
her eyes that could be interpreted as a good sign; but then again,
she might just still be overtired..
Temperance frowned at the tension she could feel in
his body. "Ever, yes. I'm just not sure why you are now."
He quirked an eyebrow at her, the confidence in her voice starting to
reassure him that she was awake and aware, "At best I figured you'd
punch me and make me swear never to bring this up again; at worst, I
expected to be sworn at and told to never show my face again.
I never thought to hope you'd be content to be here."
Booth watched Temperance's eyes turn pensive. She wasn't sure
herself why she was so content. She should be ready to run from
this unaccustomed intimacy, should be slamming the doors on her
emotions and chasing the far too handsome FBI agent out with enough
technical jargon to keep him out. Yet the flight response was no
more than an academic subject in her psyche. She could remember
feeling carefree and happy the night before, soaked in affection and
safety. Sailing on a sea of no cares; hadn't she heard that in a
song once? She looked at the man she'd slept with; hair mussed,
bare shoulders and chest, stubbled cheeks. She
grinned. Bedroom eyes. She remembered kissing Booth.
Angela would never believe that that would lead to feeling merely
'content' this morning.
But she was. She was rested from long, comfortable sleep, was
warm and relaxed. She had the full attention of a devastatingly
good-looking man without a shirt on. And at some point between
'quitting time' Friday and this morning, her subconscious had decided
that it would be worth the teasing (from Angela) and aggravation
(inevitable with Booth), to spend more time, private time, with this
man. To make the effort to understand him, and let him
understand her. To try this 'living' they kept saying could be
wonderful.
Her hand reached up and curved around his cheek. "I like the
beard." Clean and neat Booth was a treat for the eyes and hands,
but she was finding rumpled, scrubby Booth an irresistible
temptation for the senses.
Accepting for now that it was a good day, Booth's eyes slid closed
again as he turned into the light caress. He signed happily, and the
extra dose of oxygen brought not only energy, but mischief. Before she
could react to his sudden wicked grin, he rolled until she was under
him. "So the next time I need you to take a job for me, I
could just show up scruffy, instead of making Goodman order you?"
Temperance watched his cocky grin and tried to decide how to keep him
from getting any further out of line. Cocky Booth could be very
adorable, as Angela would say, but he did need reigning in. And
she was fairly sure that was part of the position she was going for in
his life. She pretended to think, "Umm, let me think..
well, *I*'d enjoy the eye chocolate, " she leered at him, "but
I wouldn't count on your case getting any attention!"
Booth started laughing and ended up rolling them on their side to avoid
crushing her. "Eye *candy*, Bones." Still chuckling, he
framed her face in his hands and bent until she could breathe his
words, "And being chosen over your bony friends, " he touched his lips
to hers once, "is an honour I will never let you forget you
offered." This time there was no tiredness to keep the
passion from taking over, and his lips returned to hers, open and
hungry.
AN: the song
at the beginning is 'Nights in white satin', by the Moody blues.
'Sea of no cares' is a song from Great big sea. Beta readers are
always welcome, as are post-posting (?umm) 'readers'. I'm already
working on the next couple chapters, the one I want to make
NC-17, if my typing fingers would cooperate(!!)
---------------
WARNING: ---------------------------
chapter 4 is **NC-17** if you want to
read it.
you can This will take you to
chapter 4 in the NC17 page, otherwise you can continue here without
losing
anything of the story!!
Chapter Five
"So, how serious were you about liking the scruff?"
Temperance looked in the mirror at the yawning, shirtless, overgrown
boy
asking the lazy question. "Why?"
Seeley rolled his eyes at the typically serious response to a
completely casual question. He walked up behind Bones, standing
at the mirror combing out her hair, wearing his shirt, mostly undone,
with her slacks. He slipped his hands around her waist and rested
his still whiskered chin on her shoulder. "Because it's
Sunday. I
can look any way I please. And it happens to please me to stack
the odds of seducing you, " he dropped a kiss on the exposed skin of
her
shoulder, "in my favour."
The confident smirk he threw at her made Temperance wish he wasn't
quite so skilled at the seducing. She could resist the
come-hither eyes, she'd been practising that religion since she'd met
him. But the words, and their simple implication; that she was
important to him, that he wanted her.. were less resistible.
She needed to counter-attack.
She knew there was a wicked grin on her face as she turned slowly, slid
her hands along his jaw, watching his nose flare and his eyes narrow,
and leaned to whisper into his ear, "Keep the scruff, and you might
just
*get* seduced."
Before he could react, she'd swayed out of the bathroom, leaving
Booth hazy with lust.
He caught sight of his dazed expression in the mirror. He shook his
head, his lips twitching as he got undressed. The last day and a
half seemed both a fantastic dream, and the most normal of life.
He'd dreamt this kind of companionship with Bones almost since he'd met
her, ignore it though he had. But on the other hand, Bones was
still Bones. She
didn't expect him to be any different than he'd been since he'd met
her, and he knew she was the same woman who'd stood by him through the
tense, the unfair and the really ugly; all the while driving him crazy
in every way. He'd go from wanting to strangle her, to wanting
to wrap his arms around her shoulders and never let go, and they still
swung that path.
Coming out of the shower, he automatically reached for his razor, and
felt the deep scratches he knew were scoring his shoulder. He
grinned,
'Wonder if she'd react to Wildcat better than Bones.' He absently
scratched his itchy jaw as he got his sweats back on and walked out
without going through his usual FBI-proper-appearance routine. It
occurred to him to wonder that he was so willing to change his habits
for
his lady doctor.
It'd certainly been a boost to his ego to hear her actually compliment
him; repeatedly. But he knew damned well that comments
aside, it would never even have occurred to her to ask him to
change. At least not physically; he snorted, she'd never been shy
about trying
to get him to change his attitudes.
As he got to the living room, she met him holding two cups of
coffee. And he had the undeniable pleasure of seeing her eyes
light up, at *him* instead of a skeleton! Definitely worth
itchy skin. After passing him his cup, her free hand came to
rest on his bare chest, over his heart, and she balanced on it to reach
up and kiss his scruffy cheek. Without a word she walked to
his couch and dropped against it's far arm, eyes coming to rest on him
again.
Temperance watched him take a few sips while staring back at her with
what she judged to be amusement and affection. She decided that
he was at least as interesting to examine as Iron-age
warriors. She smiled, too bad she couldn't get paid for it.
It'd been a long time since she'd taken two days off in a row.
And those were usually spent writing; whether articles, reports or her
book. When she'd told Booth that she took vacations, she'd known
she was pushing the definition. Going on a dig was arguably
a change of pace, but she was sure he wouldn't call it a
vacation.
As he turned away and ambled his way to the kitchen, it occurred to her
that if they really were together now, he'd expect her to join him on
those 'laying on the beach' trips. '*Were*
they together?'
~ He'd flirted with her on and off from the day they met.
~ For someone who wouldn't give her a gun and had tried to keep her in
the lab, he was oddly trusting of her abilities to take care of
herself in a fight.
~ He could be thoughtful and caring, took her lack of those qualities
in
stride far better than she had a right to expect.
~ And she'd learned to trust him. To expect him to be there
for her, even to understand her when she spoke.
And now they were lovers. Spending Saturday together and then
going to sleep together again made it more than a one-night stand;
and in any case, he wouldn't do that to her.
That thought brought her up short. There was no one reason to
think he wouldn't, but when she added together all the time she'd spent
with him, she knew this would not be any more casual for him than it
was for her. She ignored the noises from the kitchen as she tried
to decide what *she* wanted. Was she ready to accept
the responsibility of a relationship with Seeley Booth?
She didn't realize she was frowning into her cup until she heard his
voice right in front of her. "You want to go in to work?"
She jerked her eyes up to his in surprise. Thinking about her
answer, she watched the mostly neutral expression and slightly
self-deprecating smile on his face. She hadn't even thought about
work. On the other hand, she was glad to
see that he seemed OK with the idea; but did that mean he didn't care
whether they spent the day together? Had *he* had enough of
her company? Had she once again misunderstood the situation?
"Are we a couple?"
Her abruptly asked question floored Seeley for a second, but then he
put the coffee pot he'd brought down on the side table and got down to
his haunches so they were eye level. His hands rested on her
knees as he looked at her seriously; she looked her usual calm,
thinking self, but there was an undercurrent of nervousness in her
eyes,
in the tension he felt in her body.
"I'd be happy to spend every second of my life with you
Temperance." He watched her blink in surprise and he continued,
smiling wryly, "but my work is important to me, and it's going to take
me away at annoying times," he put a finger on her lips when she went
to protest, "I know you understand that. But the point is, I know
your work is just as important to you. How can I expect you to
put
up with me if I don't return the favour?"
Temperance looked at him for a moment. As much as he could drive
her crazy when he pulled the boyish charm, these moments, serious,
focused on her, caring and looking every inch a man; these were the
times she'd always had to fight not to melt. She felt a small
smile escape when she realized she *could* let herself melt this
time. She leaned forward, slipped her hands into his hair, and
very deliberately decided to drive him crazy. He'd said
'*is*going to take me away', he was thinking about a future too.
Seeley had a last thought that being the reason Bones took time
off could get addictive in a hurry.
------------------------------------------------------
"I'm starving. You have to let me eat if you want me
to last!"
Temperance lifted her head from it's favourite pillow at the husky
complaint reverberating on her ear. "Why is it my fault
you're hungry??"
Booth raised an eyebrow and started grinning, anticipating teasing her,
"Who was it pounced on me in the living room? When I was
already weak from hunger and had only started to search for food?"
She snorted, "Weak?? You carried me in here; you can't have
been that weak."
"Yeah.. then you went and depleted the last of my reserves!"
Temperance rolled her eyes at him and got up off of his supposedly
exhausted body. She sat cross-legged on the bed, watching him
move around the room getting dressed. Though she was still
feeling the glow from the pleasure that body gave her, she was
nonetheless slightly tempted to see just how exhausted he really
was; that beautiful body was still moving energetically...
She frowned and got up suddenly as he turned his back and she saw
the marks there for the first time.
"Booth! I'm so sorry!! Why didn't you say something?"
She hurried up to him, then hesitated to touch the harsh red
streaks, some with the skin broken.
"Hey, it's OK, it's OK.", Seeley turned quickly and brought her eyes to
look
into his, smiling reassuringly at her embarrassed horror, "I didn't
notice when it happened, they don't feel half as bad as they probably
look, " he leaned in to give her a brief but thorough kiss. He
then raised his lips just enough to whisper "and the very idea that I
drive you that wild, " he kissed her again, vaguely wondering if he
really needed food after all, "puts a smile on my face every time I
move
my shoulders."
"I.." Temperance frowned uncertainly, then rested a hand on his
jaw, feeling hers tensing and jerking in agitation, "I don't like the
idea of you hurt. By anyone."
Seeley felt his heart turn to mush at her soft tone, glad he'd already
accepted that he was lost in her; otherwise he'd probably be looking
poleaxed right now. He kissed her forehead and returned just as
softly, "Too bad. I *do* like driving you wild, Wildcat."
He grinned at her, "For which I need food!" With a last, fast, smooch
he turned and swaggered out of the bedroom, leaving Temperance
frowning and reminding herself to cut her nails short.
----------------------------------------------------
When Bones walked up to the counter next to him, Seeley leaned over to
kiss her ear, and when she turned with a raised brow, he asked, "Can
I tempt you into bacon and eggs, or do you want cereal?"
Before she could request her usual bowl, Temperance's stomach growled
audibly and Booth started laughing, saying she definitely needed real
food. He looked so happy, standing at the stove humming Black
Velvet. She gave up and went to find their coffee
cups. Maybe she could get used to Sunday mornings like this.
---------------------------------------------------
"Mornin' Sweety, how was.. well well well, " Angela started smirking
when she saw the red marks on her friend's cheeks, "I know *what*
you were doing this weekend, but with whom??"
Temperance rolled her eyes, knowing she was blushing on top of the
whisker-burns, "None of your business Angela." She did not want
to get into this. She'd woken up early to Booth's alarm clock,
once again sleeping more on him than not. They'd cuddled and
talked idly about work through two snoozes before dragging themselves
to a shower. Then he'd driven to her apartment so she could
change
before dropping her off at the Jeffersonian.
She'd lived with men before, and had a few serious relationships
besides. But she couldn't remember ever feeling like she had
walking away from Booth's SUV this morning. For the space of a
few steps, it had felt like the most natural thing in the world.
A husband dropping his wife off to work when her car is
broken. Partners talking about their work in the
pre-dawn light. She couldn't remember ever feeling that
connection to someone before.
After their talk on Sunday, awkwardness seemed banished from their
relationship for a spell. But she didn't want to talk about
it, worried that she would end up dismissing the fragile peace.
Angela saw the worry in her friend's frown and gave her a quick hug,
"Sorry Sweety, I saw your car here this morning and noticed you weren't
in. I'm just glad you finally took some time off and had
fun." She started to walk out of the room, then turned at
the door, "Talk to me when you're ready, uh?"
Temperance smiled gratefully at her friend, "Thanks Ange."
Chapter Six
Temperance was running through her accumulated to do list and trying
to prioritize when her cell started ringing.
"Brennan."
"Hey. Miss me?"
She could hear the grin in his voice. "Yes. I take it you got to work
safely Sweety?” trying to insert enough sarcasm that he would ignore
the
truth of the initial statement.
Seeley's grin got wider at her snarked admission, but he decided not to
make a point of it; getting along with Bones had it's pleasures, and
annoying her wasn't half as fun when he wasn't there to see it.
"Youbetcha. So, I forgot to ask, what do you want to do for supper?"
He'd actually argued with himself about whether to make it a question
or a given that they would be together tonight. Then he'd remembered
the uncertainty in her eyes on Sunday. She may have decided she wanted
to be with him, but she obviously had doubts about which page they were
on, and he didn't want to give those any fostering. So, full out
offencive; if she needed private time, he knew she wouldn't hesitate
to tell him off.
Her instinctive response was to say she was working. Until she realized
with a shock that she did miss him already, and she remembered she'd
promised herself she'd try that 'living' thing. Maybe going home at a
reasonable time would get her points. She was speaking before the rest
of the thoughts rushing in could fully form into hesitation, "I
haven't shopped in ages, whereas I know your cupboards are full."
Booth rolled his eyes, smiling, both at the continuation of their
argument during yesterday's food shopping; and at having her almost
admit she wanted to come over for supper. "So, see you at 6? And
Temperance, " his voice dropped deliberately, "bring your overnight
bag." He hung up before she could find a riposte, smiling and feeling
good about his life for the first time in a long time. He had to very
deliberately wipe the smile off his face before stepping out of the
elevator. The Bureau was not a job where walking into work cheerful
was particularly encouraged.
Ending the call, Temperance stared blankly at the papers in front of
her. She had never chosen a man over backlogged work. Leaving early,
taking a day off when there was nothing with a deadline on, maybe.
But with three weeks of work waiting...
Anthropologically speaking, choosing to pursue a personal relationship
was part of her genetic makeup. And there was no denying that Booth had
all the qualities to make a desirable mate. But the habits of a
lifetime did not lend themselves to an easy transition. What had seemed
easy and simple on the weekend now had ramifications and demands
that she knew she'd most likely fail to meet.
The doubts she'd held at bay when Angela had questioned her were now
front and centre. She actually enjoyed working cases with Booth; there
was an undeniable pleasure in seeing first-hand the results of what she
uncovered, in seeing the perpetrators of the horrors she had to analyze
put behind bars. And no one but Booth would be willing to let her play
her part in investigations. So if she failed, if they couldn't keep the
balance between their skirmishes and the affection they were
discovering for each other... She would lose a friendship she was
starting to depend on, a relationship that made her feel complete and
completely normal for the first time; and she would also lose this
new path her career had taken. Leaving her not with nothing, but
with a life she now realized had been dry and lonely.
But it was too late; she accepted that they had both taken the mental
steps into this relationship. The bridge planks were falling behind
them as they lifted their feet from each one and took another step
toward tomorrow, for good or ill. She wasn't sure when Booth had
stepped onto the bridge, but she remembered feeling the epiphany's
calming presence when she woke on Saturday; and Sunday's talk had shown
clearly that he was right beside her, holding to the same frayed ropes.
By the time they'd gotten up Saturday, it'd been closer to one than
noon and they'd been starving. Teasing and playful, Booth in his
sweats, she in his dress shirt, they'd fed each other anything they
could find that didn't require work. Every few bites, their eyes would
cross and he would grab the front of her shirt, pull her close for
another deep, leisurely kiss. Then he'd beg for a taste of whatever
was in her hand, starting them laughing again.
Angela would be thrilled at how Booth could incite her to play without
even trying. There had always been times together when the playfulness,
the smile, would just force itself out of her. His little boy grin was
a frequent culprit, making her agree with him, making her smile when
she should be sending him on his way. And now, he'd relaxed some
restraint that had previously kept their play from turning physical.
And she had spent their day and a half weekend thoroughly enjoying
the unaccustomed contact, both tactile and emotional. And getting
used to it's presence; enough to feel its lack prod her now.
Food hunger finally sated, the weeks of sleep deprivation had once
again caught up to them and they'd found themselves drowsing, Booth
leaning back against the kitchen counter, she on his chest. When her
feet started to feel the chill of the cold floor tiles, she'd pulled
herself up against his grumbly protest and then led him back to
bed, feeling so very at home..
"Dr. Brennan?"
She jerked up from laying out the forms to set up folders, realizing
she'd been daydreaming. "Yes, Zack?" This would not do! She
really needed to remember how to concentrate. Work still had to be
work.
As she followed Zack to his troublesome skull reconstruction, she
made herself stop thinking about relationships, living and working.
----------------------------------------
Grumbling about the piles of paperwork that were without doubt
continuing to replicate on his desk, Seeley shrugged out of his coat
and suit jacket, rolling up his sleeves and undoing buttons as he
strolled into
the kitchen.
Reaching in the cupboard and seeing her junk food next to his health
food stopped him in his tracks for a second. He smiled slowly, taking a
deep breath and enjoying the thought that he wouldn't be alone tonight.
That he was looking forward to something other than work. That he
had hope for his future again.
He laughed at himself as he reached for oil and onions; they’d never
even been on a date, and he was picturing her as a fixture in his life.
There was no denying that if he could have repeats of the weekend to
look forward to, the rest of life's annoyances and pains would
be bearable.
As he threw sausages on top of the onions in a baking dish and put it
into the oven, he remembered being worried that having a relationship
with Temperance would take effort, remembered thinking that she would
be
as distant personally as she'd been professionally when they first
teamed up. And that he would have to be patient to convince her to
share
her life rather than just a few controlled bits of it.
Starting on batter, he snorted at himself; so much for his gut
instincts! Whatever had made her decide to make a move on him Friday
night, she'd kept to it on waking rested Saturday, and hadn't yet
shown hesitation in letting him get close.
After breakfast on Sunday, she'd wandered over to his CD collection and
they'd ended up spending the rest of the morning vigorously discussing
musical merits. Gesturing rants and bursts of laughter. They agreed on
a surprising combination of scores, and mocked each other up and down
on the rest. Both trying to get a rise out of the other. He loved the
playful side of her nature, and felt oh so proud that he'd made it
into the small group of people she showed it to.
Then she'd insisted on making lunch, which to his hilarity had turned
out to be grilled cheese sandwiches, although she'd wanted to add a
salad; which had led to their trip to the market around the corner.
Walking up and down the aisles ribbing each other over almost every
item
picked.
If he'd thought that getting the sexual tension out in the open would
make them get along more smoothly, he'd now given that up as a
pipedream. Oddly enough, he didn't really regret it. Arguing with
Bones was almost as much fun as watching her be annoyed with him.
Almost as much of a pleasure as making love with her.
His hand slowed in the process of stirring, thoroughly distracted.
Slow and soft on Saturday, mad and passionate on Sunday.
Somehow there was no mention of getting Bones' car, or even going to
her place for fresh clothe. They were enjoying each other, enjoying
being together without the grimness of death, or the danger of
an investigation.
They'd started watching The Thomas Crown Affair after she'd admitted to
once watching Remington Steele. By the time Mr. Crown seduced Ms. Russo
into the horizontal mambo, his arm around her shoulders had become
Temperance in his lap, kissing him fit to make him forget where they
were. The kisses, slow and soft, had eventually tapered off, turning
to cuddling as they finished the movie and moved to making supper.
Memories of laughing as Bones 'helped' him in the kitchen reminded him
she was due any time. Almost as the thought came, he heard her car in
the drive. Glad to have finished in time, he smirked as he walked to
the door and opened it before she could knock. Wrapping one arm around
her, he ignored her growl of protest and dragged her to him, bag and
all, and closed the door, leaning his forearms against it with
Bones stuck between, shooting visual daggers at his grin.
After a second, he decided she wasn't going to gut-punch him after all
and leaned in to kiss her. Hard and deep; the frustration of a day at
work after spending every second of the weekend together. A promise of
the night to come. Yeah, he could handle this for the rest of his
mortal
life.
When her hands, sunk in his hair, applied pressure to push him
back, they broke and stood panting for air.
"Miss me?"
Her breathless question had him choking on a laugh until he finally
caught his breath enough to tell her supper would be ready in 20
minutes. He picked up her dropped bag and handed it to her with a
last kiss.
Watching her walk to his bedroom to drop her bag and wash up, he
decided
he must be doing something good in his life to deserve this.
AN: The
recipe Booth was making is 'Toad-in-the-hole with red onions and thyme
batter', very yummy, and easy to make, and since he was in the army, I
figure there's at least some chance of his having encountered it.
---------------
WARNING: ---------------------------
chapter 7 is **NC-17** if you want to
read it.
you can This will take you to
chapter 7 in the NC17 page, otherwise you can continue here without
losing
anything of the story!!
Chapter eight
Just as he came out of the shower, Booth heard his cell ringing and
hurried to the next room. "Booth." "Hawaii? Why are *we* being
called in?”
Cullen replied, "They don't have any particular wish for you, Booth,
they want your lady scientist. But since no one in the FBI willingly
deals with her except you, you get to join the fun. In any case, are
you
complaining about being sent somewhere sunny and warm?"
Booth groaned, his palm against his closed eyes, "I'm not, but
Doctor Brennan is going to have some choice words on the matter."
"That's what we pay you for, Booth."
After hanging up, Booth stood looking at his rumpled bed and the
blouse left on a chairback.
----------------------------------------
"Hey Booth, like the new you!"
Booth rolled his eyes at Angela's playful leer. Hoping she'd give up,
he
kept walking toward Goodman's office.
"I thought the FBI had rules about the whole clean-shaven,
pressed-suit thing?"
No such luck. "They do. I'm not officially on duty yet." He crossed
his fingers at what was pretty much a lie.
"Reeeeeally."
He knocked on Goodman's door as he heard her walk away.
"Come in." Dr. Goodman raised his brows in surprise at the man walking
in. The only time he'd seen the agent unshaven, they'd all been stuck
in quarantine. And even then, he had not been nearly as dishevelled
looking as he currently was. "What in the world happened to you Mr.
Booth? You look like you are coming in off a bender, save that
you neither look nor smell hung over."
Booth shook his head without replying. "The FBI is
requesting Dr.Brennan's help for a case, sir."
"Indeed. Well, thank you for letting me know, of course."
"That's not all, sir. The scene is on the island of Maui."
"Maui?” the older man laughed briefly, "well, I'll be here for several
hours Mr. Booth. And I'll marshal my arguments for the good doctor."
His grin at the unusually grim-faced agent saying without words that
he anticipated his anthropologist giving the man trouble.
"Thank you, sir." Booth walked back out, hoping not to meet anyone
else on his way to Bones. He could do without further teasing.
----------------------------------------
Temperance was glad to be back on track. She had the built-up work
prioritized, her files ready and organized. Her mind was clear and
energized. All she had to do was pick up each box of
bones, inspect the remains, and fill out the forms.
"Hey Bones! Guess what!"
She stood without picking up the box, "Booooooth! I have 3 weeks of
work to catch up on! I don't have...” she turned as she continued
ranting and stopped when she saw him leaning on the door frame. Dark
hair mussed, jaw still wearing the night’s growth of whiskers, white
shirt wrinkled, half undone and half untucked, black jeans, old,
ripped, and ridding low, trench coat open. After a few blinks of
appreciation, her eyes narrowed in suspicion and she stared at the man
trying to give her innocent puppy-dog eyes, "We both know I wouldn't
actually refuse to help you with a case. I know the FBI frowns on
anything but perfect grooming. It's not Sunday. What aren't
you
telling me?"
"Never gave me a chance Bones." He strolled up to her, slipping his
arms
around her waist, "You, are needed on Maui."
Temperance continued to glare, though her hands snuck up to his
shoulders without her conscious permission. As much as she hated
falling for his ploy, she also knew by now that Dr. Goodman would
already have approved this. And anyway, oh so familiar hands were
running up and down her rib cage, and it was very hard to maintain a
glare against that shadowed grin; remembering his voice, 'I want
you, need you.' She was going to regret this; she really was.
Booth watched as she closed her eyes on a huffy sigh and shook her
head,
"Fine, when are we leaving? I have to let Zack know what to do."
Not showing his surprise at just how easy that had been, he leaned in
and gave her a brief but hard kiss, wishing they had time to go home
for more than packing. He prayed that this Heaven they'd found could
survive alongside their partnership. "I've got my bag with me and I
brought your overnight. Or I can follow you home if you need to
pack more, our plane leaves at fourteen hundred."
----------------------------------------
Angela watched Booth walk from Goodman's office to Bren's, correctly
assuming they had a new case. But why wasn't he his usual spit and
polish self? Her curiosity getting the better of her manners, she
casually walked up to the wall outside Bren's office and opened the
folder in her hand to pretend she was busy, her eyes fixed sideways
into
her friend's sanctum.
'Well, well, well. Speechless Brennan. Well done Booth.' Then her eyes
widened as he casually took her in his arms. 'Oh my.' Scruffy Booth and
Brennan's whisker-burned cheeks from the day before suddenly added up
to a very interesting picture. And what looked like a shockingly fast
surrender from her friend made the agent's choice of dress for
the morning an obviously winning tactic.
She walked away smiling hugely. Brennan had finally found someone
to kiss her in her office. She was soooo going to tease those two!
AN: I will
continue this story, but more slowly (yes, I know, I'm already slow), I
want to get a few other ideas polished up and sent out
to be continued in chapter 9 This story is not likely to be
continued. My apologies
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