Disclaimer: Don't own Bones
This will be a two-shot prequel to Breaking All the Rules. Specially requested by Dispatch22705, who wondered what the deal was with the FBI gala thing. I know you said a one-shot, but I couldn't help myself! :) Enjoy!
She saw him coming and closed her eyes briefly, taking a deep breath; when she opened them, Brennan was once again sufficiently compartmentalized. Not that she could actually ignore, but at least she would be able to deal with all the things about him that continually insisted on assaulting her senses. Which was pretty much everything about him. His scent; how the man managed to smell that good every damn hour of the day seemed to defy scientific explanation. His warmth; which seemed to surround her no matter how far away he stood from her in a room. His smile; which appeared designed solely for the purpose of agitating the most irrational emotions inside her.
"Bones," he greeted, flashing the smile that he never even realized appeared automatically whenever he saw her. "Mark your calendar for the twenty-second."
"The twenty-second?" Brennan frowned in confusion. "That's almost a month away, Booth, what's going on?"
"There's a big FBI fundraiser at the Hoover," he explained. "It's been planned for months and you and all the squints will get invitations since you contract to the FBI but you are not required to go."
"All right …" she said, not sure what he was getting at.
"But, every agent and analyst is pretty much required to attend," Booth explained. "So I have to be there and you have to make sure you'll be there 'cause I don't want to be stuck in that monkey suit schmoozing people by myself all night."
"You'll hardly be by yourself, Booth," Brennan pointed out, even as she turned to her computer to check her electronic calendar. "I'm sure there'll be plenty of people there."
Way to be literal there, Bones, he thought ruefully.
"Oh, Booth, I'm sorry," she said softly, looking at her computer and biting her bottom lip. "I have a book signing scheduled that night."
"What?" his voice rose in distress and he moved behind her on the desk chair to peer at the computer in disgust. "No, come on, don't say that."
"I'm sorry, Booth," she said, frowning at the computer calendar with nearly the same expression of dislike he was throwing the hapless machine. "I .. It's been planned for a long time, my publisher schedules these events months in advance with the bookstores."
"Isn't there anything you can do?" he wheedled shamelessly, unconsciously leaning a little into her and taking a deep breath. Oh, Bones, you smell so damn good. "Are you telling me that you are not gonna be there to help me make fun of people?"
"I never help you make fun of people," she said virtuously, turning in her chair to face him and finding herself exquisitely close to him. "You do that all on your own."
"But you laugh and you know it," he teased, nearly whispering the words. His eyes went to her lips and for one crazy second he pictured tangling his fingers in her hair and crushing her mouth to his. I want to taste you so badly. The words reverberated so loudly in his head, Booth sprung back quickly, afraid she would somehow be able to read his thoughts.
"Aww, come on, Bones," he pleaded, throwing her his best smile, the one he always hoped made her melt just a little bit. "Please, don't make me spend an entire night at some fancy fundraising thing without you … do you know how boring that will be?"
Brennan looked at her partner and wondered whether he had figured out that smiling at her like that could get him pretty much anything. It really didn't bode well for her if he had.
"I'll call my publisher and push up the book signing a little bit earlier in the night," she sighed, helpless not to smile back at him. "I'll probably be a little late but I'll meet you there."
"Thanks, Bones," he said earnestly, impulsively grabbing her hands and pulling her from her chair. "Come on, let's go get some ice cream, my treat."
"Booth," she protested, even as she let him lead her out of the office. "I still have work to do and ice cream will ruin our appetite."
"So what?" He dropped his arm around her shoulder as if he had every right to. "It's nearly six-thirty, time to leave work anyway and we'll just have a late dinner."
"Fine," she acquiesced, because there was nothing she'd rather do than spend the rest of the day with him anyway. "But I get to pick the place."
"Deal," Booth answered quickly, smiling ecstatically at the thought of having her to himself for the rest of the day.
One day, Bones, he vowed, one day, I'm going to have you to myself all night, every night.