Unusually active muse alert! I don't think I've posted this many times in a week since...well, ever! This little number wouldn't leave my brain after the episode...seriously. It took over my (squishy, hehe--I love Sweets) brain and wouldn't let me sleep. So this is 4 a.m. writing!
While they waited for their flight to board, Brennan sat quietly, thinking about Dr. Ian Wexler and Inspector Kate Pritchard. The recent conversations between the two women left Brennan a bit puzzled. And the tiniest bit jealous—although she would never admit that to anyone.
Finally their flight number was called.
"Window seat!" Booth exclaimed as he grabbed his carryon and jumped from his seat.
"No fair!" Brennan retorted, standing too. "You got the window seat on the flight over."
"But I called it!" he told her. "Besides, I was just knighted," he finished with his version of an English accent.
Brennan rolled her eyes, but decided to play his little game. "And as a knight, you treat a lady with respect and grant her requests. And I request the window seat."
"Fine! The window seat is yours," he whined.
"Thank you," she replied, using an English accent of her own.
Thirty minutes later the plane was in the air.
Booth leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He was concerned with Brennan's quietness—except for their tiff over the seating arrangements—but was too tired to question it at the moment. He hadn't had any decent caffeine in over two weeks. Just as he was drifting off to sleep, Brennan's voice startled him.
"Did you sleep with her?"
"Huh? Who?" It was going to be a long flight back to DC.
"The British Bombshell."
"I don't…how do you even know what that means? I think the phrase was a little distasteful, all things considered. Bombs, explosives…"
"You're avoiding the subject."
"Do we have to talk about this now?" he groaned.
"I was just making small talk, Booth."
"My sex life is not small talk," he hissed a little too loudly.
The woman across the aisle cleared her throat and shifted in her seat so that her back was to Booth and Brennan.
Booth continued quieter. "We are not having this conversation, Bones. Ever."
"Because sex talk is not something we do. It's for…lovers."
"Which we aren't."
"Exactly. So can we drop it?"
"I should have had sex with Ian."
"Geez, Bones! What part of 'drop it' didn't you understand?"
"I'm not embarrassed to tell you that it's been a long time since I've had sex. You shouldn't be ashamed to tell me that you slept with Pritchard."
"What's your fascination with the sexual escapades of Pritchard and me?"
Brennan twisted in her seat to face Booth. "Aha! So you admit it!"
"I didn't admit anything!"
"When you went to get the car, she said not to miss out on Everest. She wasn't referring to Ian."
He made a face, clearly not understanding. "Everest?"
"Yes, she compared sex to climbing Mount Everest."
"Because of the size?"
"What—no! Because of the experience."
"Oh," Booth sighed.
"Look, I don't care if you slept with her. Pritchard summed it up—the others were practice for hers and Ian's copulation. I admire the fact that she and Ian met each others' needs, but didn't get jealous or territorial when other people entered into the mix."
Uncomfortable with this line of discussion, but intrigued, Booth asked, "So, you're saying I would have been practice for her? If she and I…you know…"
"Technically, but she would have been practice for you, too."
She slapped his arm playfully. "For any future sexual encounters with a suitable female. Or male."
"Bones! Any encounters will definitely be with a female."
In that moment they both were aware of the sexual electricity between them. Only this time—unlike so many times before—neither backed away.
"I'm a female," she whispered.
Booth licked his lips as he turned to face her. "You certainly are."
"And I'm most definitely out of practice." She barely moved, but her face was within inches of his.
"It can't be practice with us, Bones." His eyes flashed to her lips. "It's game time."
"It means," he interrupted her, "that you're going to be the only one."
He cut her off again. "Remember when I said you were special?"
"Well, special means being the only one."
She let the words sink in for a moment before responding. "If anyone asks, I'll blame it on the altitude, but you're special, too."
He smiled and ran his thumb gently over her cheekbone. "In that case, I can't wait to get home."
Her eyes twinkled. "Why wait?" she whispered, leaning into his touch.
"Bones, are you saying you want to become a member of the mile-high club?"
She shook her head and smirked. "Higher."
He grinned, seemingly reading her mind.
"Everest," they said together.