A/N: Firstly, thank you so much to everyone who took the time to review, you're all very kind. Originally this was intended to be a one-shot, but after several requests to add more, I decided to go for it. Essentially I've taken off the last scene from the first chapter and tacked it onto the end of the second. It makes it a little choppy, but it's good enough for now! I'd like to thank xxletgoxx especially for encouraging me to write scenes in different locations. In any case, I hope you enjoy this! -MC
(Oh, and as a warning, there's lot of references to Brennan's breasts in this one. Apparently I have the sense of humor of a 12 year old boy)
And now, homesickness.
The door adjoining their rooms was unlocked. She pushed it open and stepped quietly inside. He'd fallen asleep with his TV on, the blue light flickering over the room eerily. Brennan shivered, goose bumps rising on her bare legs, and closed the door behind her, walking to the TV. She glanced at her partner, asleep on his side, before switching it off. The room plummeted into darkness and she staggered forward, disoriented as she tried to reach the bed. Instead, she tripped on his shoes (which he would no doubt claim were there because they'd "fallen"), swearing as she landed hard on her knees.
Suddenly the room was engulfed in light, Brennan blinking in disorientation as Booth sat up in bed. "Bones? Is it morning?" he asked sleepily, his hair flattened (adorably) on one side.
"Technically, yes," she sighed from her position on the floor, inspecting her knee, "but I don't think you would consider it to be."
He woke up a little more and realized she was talking to him from the floor. He scratched his head, "…Bones what are you doing?"
"I was…coming in to turn off your television. You fell asleep with it on, you know," she answered somewhat defensively, moving to stand. He quickly got out of bed and helped her to her feet, seeing that the carpet had scraped her knee.
"Are you alright?" he asked, sitting her on the edge of his bed as he went to his shaving kit and grabbed some first aid supplies.
"Yes," she answered, "I'm fine." He sat next to her and poured some antibacterial solution on a cotton pad.
"What were you doing up, anyway? This might sting a bit," he added, pressing the cotton to her knee. She sucked in a breath, wincing.
"How come?" he asked, cleaning away the blood.
She shrugged, watching him tend to her. "I don't know. I don't like these beds. The sheets are uncomfortable. And the traffic from the street is loud. Plus, my radiator isn't working, and the pipes in the bathroom squeak constantly."
"Bones…are you homesick?" he grinned, discarding the cotton pad and opening a band-aid.
"What?" she colored, her cheeks flushing. "Booth I have traveled the entire world, alone. I've slept on piles of straw, in hovels made out of mud. I don't get homesick."
He applied the band-aid, eyes twinkling. "Whatever you say, Bones. But there's nothing wrong with wishing you could sleep in your own bed."
She looked at him wistfully. "I do miss my bed."
"And having all your books with you..." he prompted.
"And my bathtub, I would love to have a nice bath."
"And diner food!" Booth added.
"Yes! Yes, the diner. And my office. And Angela of course," she contributed.
He leaned back against the headboard, arms above his head. "I dunno, Bones, that sounds like a pretty good case of homesickness to me." He grinned at her and she moved closer to him, sighing.
"Well, if hypothetically, one did have homesickness…" she began, looking at him curiously.
"Yes…" he encouraged, eyes shining with barely concealed mirth.
"What…what does one do about it?" she asked finally.
The sight of her sitting on his bed, knees drawn to her chest in her (impossibly short) shorts, long arms bare in the tank top she wore, her hair drawn into a loose ponytail, it was all Booth could do not to grab her and kiss any thoughts of being homesick out of her head.
Instead, he leaned forward, looking at her thoughtfully. "Well, one thing that works is to list the things you don't miss. That way, you can be happy that you're away from them."
"Alright," she said slowly, the wheels turning. "I don't miss…paperwork."
"Good one, Bones!"
"I don't miss…DC traffic."
She shook her head, "Ugh, me neither. I don't miss having to go to therapy with Sweets!" she offered. "Though, I do kind of miss Sweets," she added.
"Yeah, well, he doesn't have to know that Bones. I don't miss having Cullen breathing down my neck while I'm at work," he replied.
"I don't miss having to argue with the Egyptology department about the use of lab equipment," she said thoughtfully.
He stifled a smile. "I don't miss my noisy neighbors waking me up at 3:00am," he said, crossing his arms across his bare chest.
Her brow furrowed. "What are they doing at 3:00am that's so noisy?"
He gave her a look. "What do you think, Bones?"
Her eyes widened. "Oh. Who has sex at 3:00am on a weekday?"
He sighed, closing his eyes. "Sometimes you just can't wait, Bones." He could feel her staring at him but when he looked up she was looking at her hands. "So? Do you feel any better?"
"Yes, a little," she said after some contemplation.
"Good," he smiled, reaching for her. She crawled towards him and put her arms around his neck, settling against him with a contented sigh. He pulled the covers over them and switched off the light, holding her against him. "Hey Bones, you know what else cures homesickness?" he asked.
"What?" she said softly, her body seeming to tense waiting for his answer.
"Buying your partner pancakes in the morning."
And this time, grouchiness.
He was tired.
No, he was very, very tired.
No wait, he was extremely, bone-achingly, exhausted.
Booth had been up for nearly 48 hours working non-stop on a case that they had finally managed to solve, thanks to one of Hodgins's bits of goo that had allowed them to triangulate something or other. Whatever. The case was closed, and it was time to go home and pass out on top of his covers with all his clothes on.
The only problem was, she had insisted it was "her turn" to drive yesterday morning, and consequently he was being forced to wait around for her while she did some finishing touches on her paperwork. Booth paced the lab for the ninth time, interns dodging this way and that as he stalked past them. Finally, any and all patience spent, he turned on his heel and marched into her office.
"Bones! What the hell is taking you so-" he paused. She was sitting at her desk, pen in hand, completely asleep. Her forehead was resting on the hard wood of her desk, hair fallen over her face as she slept soundly, no doubt drooling on the last of the paperwork. Normally, he would think she was the cutest thing he'd ever seen, and somewhere beneath the layer of sleep-deprived grouchiness, he did. But mostly, he was just so damned tired he was about to fall over.
"Bones!" he said loudly, rapping his knuckles on her desk. She started and her bottom lip smashed against the edge of the desk, causing her to cry out in pain.
"Ow! Booth!" she said through the fingers she'd clamped over her throbbing lip. "What the hell is your problem?!"
He felt bad, but he immediately went defensive instead. "My problem is I've been waiting to go home for 45 minutes because you decided to have a nap, and I'm exhausted!"
She glared at him. "I didn't 'decide' to fall asleep, Booth, I'm exhausted too! If you don't recall, I've been up 14 hours longer than you, and I was trying to get this paperwork done so that you wouldn't have to come in tomorrow and do it! That doesn't mean you have to give me a bloody lip!"
She brought her fingers away from her mouth, licking her lips as she checked her fingers for blood. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Bones, I'm really sorry. I'm an ass. I'm just –"
"Tired, yes, you've said," she spat, scowling at him.
He knelt down in front of her, his hands on her knees. "Let me see," he asked, reaching for her chin.
She pulled away, "No, don't. I'm fine. You want to go home, right? So let's go."
His heart ached. "Bones, please, I said I was sorry okay? Just let me see it."
Her face softened and she said nothing, but she didn't protest when he took her chin in his hand and pulled her face close to his. Her lip was swollen and a little red. "I'm sorry, Bones," he repeated.
"It's fine, it was an accident," she said gently.
"Should I kiss it better?" he asked, teasingly.
"Booth," she snorted, "don't be ridiculous. Kisses don't have healing powers."
"Are you sure about that?" he asked, moving his mouth close to hers.
He could feel her breathing increase. "Yes," she panted.
"You willing to bet on it?"
"You're a degenerate gambler," she whispered.
He brushed his lips gently against hers, pressing softly, barely allowing her time to close her eyes and lean into him before he was pulling away.
"How about now? Any better?" he asked, still close enough that his breath mixed with hers.
"…Actually, yes," she replied in surprise. "Remarkable. Perhaps I'll have to conduct more research on the matter."
It was his turn to be surprised as she stood abruptly, and grabbed her jacket.
"You coming?" she threw over her shoulder as she walked out of her office.
He stood slowly, not trusting his legs at first before muttering, "Choice of words, Bones."
Booth glanced at his partner, asleep in the seat next to him. The rain pounded loudly on the roof as they sat in the car, nothing but fields of corn visible on all sides. They were in Maryland, parked on the side of the highway as they waited for a tow truck. Booth's FBI-issue SUV had apparently taken one too many turns up on two wheels, and the right front tire had gotten a flat on their way home from a case.
"Bones," he said louder, pushing at her shoulder gently.
"No," she replied, batting his hand away.
"Bones, wake up! I'm bored."
"And that is my problem, why?" she asked, settling against the car door with her arm as a pillow.
"Because we're gonna be here for a while, and you're my partner, it's your job to keep me from dying of boredom."
She snorted, "I'd like to see where it says that in my job description."
He glowered at her. "Right next to where it says, 'be a pain in the ass as much as possible'."
Her arm shot out and struck him in the shoulder, though she never even opened her eyes. "OW!" he shouted, rubbing his aching arm. "See? Right there Bones. Pain in the ass."
"That was your arm, not your ass."
He rolled his eyes, "Okay, never mind Bones. You know what? You go back to sleep, I'll be just fine."
He shifted in his seat. Sniffed. Shifted again. Coughed. Shifted. Sighed loudly. Shifted.
"Oh, you're awake!"
Brennan groaned and opened her eyes, giving up. "I hate you."
"For waking you up?"
"That, and for being the only FBI agent in the world who doesn't keep a spare tire in his truck."
"Bones, I'm doing you a favor, it's not good for you to sleep too much during the day, it throws off your sleep patterns."
"Whatever, Booth," she sighed.
"No it's true, Bones," he insisted. "Double blind studies have shown that-"
"I will give you a thousand dollars if you can tell me what a double blind study is."
He paused. "Duh, Bones, it's when two blind guys, well, two blind scientists-"
"Okay, I will give you a thousand dollars if you don't finish that sentence."
"Touchy, aren't we?"
"Maybe I wouldn't be if someone let me sleep."
"Let's play truth or dare."
"Fine, I dare you to be quiet."
He scowled at her. "You're sucking the fun out of truth or dare."
She sighed dramatically. "Truth."
He grinned. "Do you think I'm attractive?"
Her eyes flew to him. "Right now? No."
He pushed her and she flapped a hand at him. "Seriously, Bones, do you think I'm hot? Yes or no?"
She sighed, rolling her eyes. "Fine. Yes. I think you have…certain attributes that I find to be sexually alluring. Happy now?" He smiled smugly. "Never mind, I can see that you are. Truth or dare?"
"Do you think about me while you masturbate?"
She grinned maliciously. "What?"
"You cant – you can't just....ask a guy that!"
"Why not? It's a perfectly natural…"
"Okay, stop. Just stop. Game over."
"No, I want to play now! I answered yours!"
He stared at the steering wheel. "Look. Bones. We're together…a lot. And I think about you all the time, so yeah, you know…if your face happens to slip into my mind at certain times, there's nothing I can do about it."
"You think about me all the time?"
"W-professionally, yeah, cause you know, we're partners."
"Hardly seems professional to think of me while you're masturbating."
His eye twitched. "Stop, Bones."
"There's nothing to be ashamed of Bo-"
"OH LOOK THE TOW TRUCK'S HERE!" he bellowed, seeing the truck coming through the rain like a beacon of hope.
"Oh, good!" she commented casually. Booth threw on his rain jacket from the back as he got ready to meet the driver that was running to them from his truck. "Hey Booth?" she asked, watching him do up each snap on the jacket.
The driver was close, almost at the door as he heard her mention casually, "I think about you, too."
He'd been gone for 17 days and roughly…9 hours now. Not that she'd been counting. Off on some ultra secret FBI mission that he'd refused to talk to her about, no matter how many times she'd offered to flash him (though he'd come close to breaking on several occasions), Brennan had missed him more than she'd expected.
His plane from…wherever it was had gotten in late, and so she'd waited until the reasonable hour of 4:45 am before she unlocked the door to his apartment and stepped inside. The smell of him caused her body to thrill. She'd missed that, too; even though he'd jokingly given her a shirt of his to sleep in while he was away. What he didn't know was that while she'd laughed it off at the time, she'd slept in it every night.
Her heart beating with excitement she stepped into his room. They'd been given a case while he'd been away, and she'd been briefing him over the phone, so naturally she would be remiss if she didn't come over to give him updates as soon as possible. She set the files she'd brought on his nightstand and sank down next to him. "Hey, Booth." She placed an arm on his waist, giving him a little push. He didn't move. "Booth, wake up!"
She reached out to pinch his nose shut and his fingers were around her hand in a flash. She let out a surprised, "Oh!" as he dragged her down by the wrist and flipped her onto her back. Her eyes were wide with shock as he grinned down at her.
"Nice try, Bones. I'm on to you."
She laughed, reaching up to hug him. "Hi, Booth."
He hugged her back before setting her down on his pillows. "Good morning, Bones." He squinted, looking out the window at the dark sky. "Wait, is it morning?"
She shrugged sheepishly. "Yes."
He eyed her. "What time is it?"
She didn't answer and he looked at his clock. "Bones! It's 4:30 in the morning!"
She sat up, defensive. "It is not! It's 4:47!"
He laughed. "Aw, Bones, did you miss me that much that you couldn't wait to see me?"
"Don't be silly, Booth, I came to give you the files for the case," she scoffed, indicating the stack of folders on the nightstand.
He looked at her with a smug grin on his face. "You came here, before the sun, to give me case files?"
"Yes," she answered primly, sniffing.
"Well, I was simply trying to keep you apprised, but fine," she said huffily, sitting up, "if you don't want to be in the loop, suit yourself." She moved to get out of the bed, swinging her legs over the side when his voice stopped her.
She didn't turn back as she replied, "Yes, Booth?"
She felt him crawling towards her, his breath hot on her neck. "Didn't you miss me at all?"
Her heart constricted. "Yes, Booth," she whispered, "very much."
He dropped a kiss on her shoulder, and she could feel his smile against her skin as he did. "Listen, Bones. Why don't you let me sleep for a few more hours, and then we can go to the diner for breakfast and you can fill me in on all the details. Okay?"
"Yes, alright. Sorry for waking you, Booth," she said softly, turning to look at him.
"Don't be. I'm glad you did. Come on," he encouraged, pulling her back to bed with him. "When we wake up, I'll show you what I got you while I was away."
She settled against him, nuzzling his neck with her nose. "You got me something?"
"Course I did, and it's really cool."
"What is it?"
"Booth! Tell me!"
"Sorry Bones, no can do. You have to wait."
"What if I flash you?"
"…You can't keep using that on me you know. It isn't fair."
"Fine, I retract my offer."
"Whoa, whoa, Bones, let's not be hasty!"
"You denied me last time anyway," she added.
"Bones! That was national security. And the scary part was I almost breeched it."
She laughed. "Fine. I will only use my powers for good from now on."
"Thank you. Hey Bones?"
"…Can I see them?"
"Go to sleep, Booth."
"I missed you too."
And now, surprise.
The elevators dinged open cheerfully as she walked onto his floor of the FBI building. Brennan paced the halls to his office quickly, an uncharacteristic spring in her step as she made her way through the maze of glass encased rooms. She rounded the corner to his office, bursting through the door with a mega-watt grin on her face that quickly disappeared as she saw he wasn't there. His desk was empty, and she was just about to turn and check the lunchroom when she heard a soft snore.
She looked over and saw her partner stretched out on his couch, fast asleep with a case file on his chest. He'd kicked off his shoes and his socks, the ones she'd gotten him for Christmas with the skeletons on them, were on display to the entire FBI. She smiled softly and walked forward, running her hand along the outer edge of the sole of his foot.
His leg twitched. She smiled wider and ran two fingers down the middle of his foot this time. He grunted. Suppressing laughter, Brennan tickled the bottom of his feet with her nails. His voice startled her as it cut through the room, "Hey, cut it out, I'm awake!"
She laughed, sitting on the edge of the couch facing him as he moved aside to make more room for her. "Hi, Booth," she beamed.
"Hey, Bones," he answered sleepily. "You look happier than usual. Some old dusty bones from Timbuktu get sent to the lab?
She scowled. "No. And I've been to Timbuktu, it's got a rich history-"
"Of course you have, Bones. So what then?"
"I am going to be a key note speaker at this year's Forensic Anthropology Symposium!" she gushed.
"You're what now?"
"Key note speaker! Can you believe that Booth!?" she asked, nearly vibrating with excitement. "I've been dreaming of this since I was 16, I was surprised to even be considered, but-"
"Why were you surprised? You're the best," he stated.
She colored. "Well, thank you, Booth, but there are a number of other very talented people in my field…"
He waved a hand. "Nah, they're nowhere near your caliber. You think I don't know, Bones? Not that you don't constantly remind me, but it's a well established fact that you're the best in your field."
"Well, that's not always the deciding factor."
He sat up, "What do you mean?"
She shifted, uncomfortable. "It's kind of a popularity contest, in some ways."
He knew she was being serious so he did his best not to laugh. "A popularity contest…consisting of only forensic anthropologists?"
She nodded. "Yes. And in the past I've never really been considered because, well you know I'm not exactly the social type."
"So what changed then?" he asked.
She looked away. "Well. I started working with you. And I must say…our partnership has greatly improved my ability to socialize with other people. I really have you to thank." He shrugged, but inwardly he was touched. "Which is why I was wondering if you'd come with me."
His eyes twinkled. "Bones are you asking me on a date?"
She flushed a deep crimson. "What? No! Why…do you want me to?"
He was looking as smug as she'd ever seen him. "Let me get this straight. It's a dinner?"
"And we'd be dressed up?"
"And it has nothing to do with the Jeffersonian or the FBI?"
"And it would just be the two of us?"
He nodded, "Yeah, Bones, that sounds like a date."
She looked at him. "Well. I can't deny your logic."
He ran a thumb across her lips and she closed her eyes briefly. "No. You can't, can you?"
"You know, you haven't said you'll go yet," she pointed out, the barest traces of apprehension in her features.
"Of course I'm gonna go! Are you kidding? I've got a hot date with the most popular forensic anthropologist I know."
"Booth," she sighed, "I'm the only forensic anthropologist you know."
"Correction," he said, lifting a finger, "the only one I need to know."'
"Well you're about to meet an entire symposium's worth, so be prepared. Who knows you might even find one you like better than me," she suggested.
"No way, Bones. There is no way I could ever like any other forensic anthropologist better than you."
She raised her eyebrows. "You can't possibly know that to be true."
"Sure I can."
He winked, infuriatingly charming. "I've seen your breasts."
They were tipsy. No, they were drunk. Her laughter filled the cab as he helped her into the back seat, greeting the driver cheerfully. She (after having to think for a moment) told him her address and leaned back in the seat with a sigh. He stared at her as she closed her eyes in happy exhaustion.
She was wearing a beautiful black evening gown, cut in all the right places, her curls swept gracefully back in a loose bun at the base of her neck. A thin, silver chain, trailed across her collarbone, following the plunging neckline of her dress and beyond.
He leaned back in the seat, still watching her, as he sighed, "Wow, Bones. Who knew forensic anthropologists could party so hard? After the boring speeches I mean."
Her eyes opened, a look of hurt flashing across her face. "You think my speech was boring?"
"What? Nah, Bones, not yours. Yours was awesome, I was talking about Dr. Magoo with his coke-bottle glasses."
"His name is Dr. Mageau, and it isn't his fault he has vision problems," she said with an irritated air, though he could tell she was biting back a smile.
"No, but I bet he could have helped being so boring, if he'd really wanted to."
She sniffed. "Well, I thought his speech was…" He looked at her. "Fine. It was boring. Are you happy?"
He put his arm around her, drawing her against him. She rested her head on his shoulder, a hand coming out to grip the edge of his jacket. "Are you kidding? I'm the happiest guy in the world. I got to leave with the key note speaker." She smiled against him. "You know, I think every guy in there was jealous of me."
She scoffed, "Booth, stop!"
"No, it's true Bones. They all wanted you. Especially Dr. Magoo."
"Okay, I know you're pronouncing his name incorrectly just to annoy me, so I'm not going to respond."
He laughed and put his arms tighter around her, feeling her settle in against him. Her breath, warm on his neck, came in slower and more even beats. He rested his head on the top of hers and looked out the window, watching the lights of DC fly past. He couldn't remember when he'd felt so good. The warmth of liquor in his veins, memories of a fun night of dancing and laughter, and the woman of his dreams, asleep in his arms. He gave a thankful nod to the Big Guy Upstairs, acknowledging how grateful he would always be for these moments with her.
He could see they were getting close to her apartment now, and he went to wake her. A passed out anthropologist is probably not something the cabbie needed in his back seat. He ran a finger along her cheek and whispered, "Bones, wake up. We're almost at your apartment."
She didn't so much as twitch. "Bones," he shook her gently. Nothing. He sighed, leaning back. If he tried to carry her inside and she found out, he'd be missing a head come morning. His eyes fell on the pale skin of her leg. Her dress had ridden up as she'd stepped into the car, the slit of her dress gaping to expose her milk-white thigh.
He held his breath for a moment, and then got an idea. Smiling he put two fingers on her knee. His eyes on her face, he whispered her name as he slowly began to walk his fingers up her leg. She didn't move.
Over her knee….nothing.
Mid thigh…was that a twitch?
Higher still…a sigh?
His fingers continued to walk, slowly, across her soft flesh, now at her upper thigh. His hand was about to disappear under her dress as it made its way all the way up to…
"Booth!" she gasped, her fingers grasping his wrist just before his hand reached its destination. Her eyes had flown open, glassy with intoxication, or maybe something else. "What are you doing?
He smiled innocently. "Waking you up, Bones."
"That's not what it looks like," she smirked, her hand still holding his in place.
"Well, you're awake now, aren't you?" he asked.
She rolled her eyes. "That's an interesting technique. I'll have to remember it for future occasions." Her eyes were dark now, glittering in the low light of the cab.
"We're almost at your house," he stuttered, his voice inexplicably an octave higher. He coughed and she smiled wickedly as she reached for her purse. He put a hand on hers, "No, Bones, it's on me."
She scowled, "I don't think so, Booth."
He scowled back playfully. "I do, Bones. Come on, let me be chivalrous, just this once."
She sighed, "But I'm the one that asked you, therefore I should be the chivalrous one."
"No, Bones, it doesn't matter who asked who…you're the girl. That's how this works."
She rolled her eyes. "Maybe you could provide me with some sort of written handbook, so I know the 'rules' for next time."
He waggled his eyebrows, "Oh, so there's going to be a next time?"
She growled in frustration, her eyes glinting with laughter. "Look, Bones, you can pay next time, okay? Besides, I got to touch your thigh, it's the least I can do to pay for a cab ride after that."
"Whatever you say, Booth," she sighed. The cab pulled up outside her building and she leaned in close to him. "Just so you know," she said softly, giving him a long kiss on the cheek before whispering in his ear, "I would have let you touch for free."
The heart monitors beeped steadily, reminding her that he was still there, that he had made it out alive. This time. Brennan sat in a chair next to his hospital bed, elbows on the mattress as she watched him sleep. Her limbs felt heavy, her stomach weak, with guilt.
Her eyes began to sting as she's thought of his last words to her before they'd entered the suspect's house. "Wait here, Bones. Please."
But she hadn't. She'd been so worried about him that she'd followed him inside, and she'd entered the room where he was apprehending their man as quietly as she could. But it wasn't quietly enough. In the second that he'd glanced up at her, the suspect had taken advantage and elbowed Booth in the solar plexus, sending him flying back where he'd smacked his head on a wall.
The sound still reverberated in her head as she sat there watching him, waiting for him to wake up. He still hadn't opened his eyes since he'd fallen to the ground in that suspect's home. Not even after she'd managed to drop the guy with a roundhouse kick and a swift upper thrust to his nose, cuffing him to a table. Not even after she'd shaken him, calling his name over and over.
Her jaw clenched as she attempted to keep back the tears of guilt that threatened to spill. She took in a ragged breath and clutched her fingers harder around his own. It had been nine hours, and all the doctors had said was, "Wait."
But she was sick of waiting. She had to see his eyes again, had to hear his voice, teasing her, had to have him be the first thing she'd see in the morning as he sat at her bedside with coffee and a smile. She grasped his forearms in desperation, giving him a gentle shake.
"Booth. Wake up." He didn't move and she shook him harder. "I said, wake up dammit! It's me! It's Bones!" She whispered harshly, "Booth, do what I say!" Her fingers were digging into the flesh of his upper arms, and her mind filled with the memory of what he had tasted like as she'd sunk her teeth into him. She thought of bagels, and tickling, truth or dare, and winning lottery tickets, and her chest squeezed with anger and pain.
Panicked, she ripped back the edge of his sheets and put two fingers on his knee. Watching his pale face, she slowly walked her fingers up his leg, hardly daring to breathe. "Come on, Booth," she begged in a whisper. Her fingers reached halfway up his thigh. "Please." And now higher. She let out a soft sob as she'd reached his upper thigh, her fingers about to disappear under his pale green hospital gown.
She was about to break down completely when she felt a strong set of fingers wind around her wrist, stopping her wandering hand. She gasped and looked up, and her partner was staring at her with glittering eyes. "Now I know I must have been hurt, cause any other day, I would never have stopped you," he smiled.
"Booth!" she sobbed, throwing herself on him. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him as tightly as she dared, pressing her face into the crook of his neck. "Booth."
"Hey, hey," he soothed, his arms coming around her tightly, smoothing a hand up and down her back. "It's okay, Bones."
"No it isn't," she breathed, pulling back to look at him with a tear-stained face. "I got you hurt and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I didn't listen to you." She pressed her forehead to his, her fingers wrapping around the short hair at the base of his neck as she frantically pressed a kiss to his mouth, twice, then his cheek, then his jaw.
"What are you talking about, Bones?" he asked, running his fingers through her hair.
"I didn't listen, I went in even though you told me not to. I let that guy get the upper hand." She sobbed. "I'm sorry."
He pulled her back so he could see her. "Bones, do you think I thought for one second that you'd actually listen to me? I knew I could try, but I was fully aware that you were going to follow me in there. I know you. I know who you are. And that asshole already got the drop on me about a second before you walked into that room."
Her eyes searched his. "Really?"
"Yeah. Of course. You saved me, Bones."
She let out a sigh of relief. "I was so worried about you, Booth."
"I know you were, Bones. But hey, if I had taken longer to wake up, they might have given you a younger, better FBI Agent to work with, so it wouldn't have been all bad," he teased.
She shook her head, running her fingers over his ears as her forehead still rested firmly on his. "No, Booth. You're the only FBI Agent I'd ever want to work with. I wouldn't like any other as much as you."
He smiled, repeating her words from a few weeks ago. "You can't possibly know that to be true."
"Yes, I can," she breathed.
She pulled back, her face sliding into a wicked grin. "Because I've seen your…"
And finally, love.
He pushed open her front door at 5:42am, and this was after waiting two hours for a "decent time" to see her. He'd been thinking of her more and more, ever since this…habit had started between them. He thought of her before that, it's true, all the time. And he'd loved her for many years now. But this thing they had started between them had opened up a sort of floodgate for his feelings towards her. And now, what he could once control (most of the time, anyway) had started to control him. And he couldn't sleep at night, wondering if she might come by in the morning, hoping that he'd wake to her beautiful face.
He walked into her bedroom and she was sitting there, staring at him. He couldn't read the expression on her face, but it looked like she'd been waiting. For him. He sat down next to her, without a word, and leaned in to kiss her gently on the mouth. She put her hands on either side of his face and kissed him back, opening her mouth to him.
He pulled back and she was smiling. He smiled back, kissing her palm that still rested on his cheek. "I've been thinking," she whispered, leaning forward to kiss him again.
He kissed her back, mumbling into her mouth, "Big surprise there, Bones."
She smiled against his lips, one of her hands dropping to clutch his collar and pull him against her. "Shush. I've been thinking that (kiss) that it makes much more sense (kiss) you know, logically (kiss) for us to just stay with each other at night."(kiss). She pulled back and he immediately began to leave wet, open mouthed kisses down her throat. "Because –oh, yes, right there, because we're usually going to the same place anyway, and –oh, harder, please, and it would save on time, and –oh, Jesus, Booth, and gas. Don't you agree?"
Booth came back up to kiss her, harder, more passionately this time, and she moaned in his mouth as he pushed her back on the bed. "Yes," he panted, "I agree completely."
He began to unbutton her, no wait, his shirt that she was wearing, and she smirked. "Do you even know what I said?"
He kissed the smirk off her face, "Saving gas?"
"Close enough, Agent Booth," she smiled as he opened her shirt and pulled it off of her, kissing back down her throat and across her chest.
"Oh no," he disagreed as she pulled his own shirt from his back, "not nearly close enough." She laughed and ran her tongue along his jaw.
"Good morning, Booth," she whispered in his ear.
"Good morning, Bones," he whispered back.
Thank you for reading! Please do let me know what you think. - MC