No Bride for Booth
Written May 2010 -July 2010
Booth opened the door for Brennan and waited as she slipped into the SUV. Brennan, normally a very agile woman needed to use him to steady her ascent into the vehicle. She put her hand on his shoulder and slid it down to his upper arm and squeezed feeling his bicep. "Hmm ... Thank you," she sighed with a slight smile. It was an enigmatic smile, one that she had been showing him all night long. During the interviews with the guards on duty, the medical examiner and the other inmates, Brennan barely said a word. She didn't even catch the ME on a clear violation and didn't demand that the body be sent to the Jeffersonian until Booth suggested it. She wasn't paying attention, she wasn't making notes; but she maintained a steady gaze on Booth. Maybe she was jet lagged. Maybe she was exhausted. Maybe she just couldn't grasp the nuances of the case. But every time he looked over at her she was looking at him with that same smile.
He had had enough. "OK, Bones, what's going on?" he asked climbing into the driver's seat.
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Like you know something that I don't know."
He smiled broadened slightly. "I find that I am distracted by you … physically."
"I understand now why it would not be good practice for people who are sexually active to work together." She looked away. "I can see that I would miss quite a few clues that need to be ascertained during an investigation."
"Wait … wait … what are you saying?"
"I am saying that I can't help but notice ... well you. Your scent. They way you move. How the muscles in your upper body contract when you are being lied to, or how often you purse your lips as a method of eliciting more information from an interviewee, or how the timbre of your voice lowers when trying to intimidate." Booth was floored. "It is very arousing, intoxicating actually – at the very least it is distracting." She scanned him up and down again. "Very distracting."
"Wow … way to do a 180 there, Bones." He laughed nervously. "Whiplash anyone?" He stole another glance at her and she was all but eating him with her eyes. "Are you flirting with me?"
"I don't flirt," she stated flatly as she licked her lips.
"Of course you don't."
"Flirting implies teasing and no follow through," she explained. "I have great follow through."
'I'll just bet you do,' he thought. He stole several more glances in her direction. "So … you were distracted and that is why you didn't add anything to the interrogations."
"The third guard was lying," she stated looking back out the windshield. "And the ME is … as you would say … IN ON IT."
"You think Hawkins was lying."
"His name was Dawkins, Jonas Harold Dawkins … and yes, he was lying."
So she was paying attention. "How do you know that?"
"You told me … well more precisely your body told me."
"And how did I ... my body know?"
"I suspected you picked up on his physical cues - pupil dilation, tone of voice, increased heart rate and you reacted. I hope one day to be that in tune with a stranger, but for now I will settle with knowing you." She scanned him again. "You take excellent care of yourself physically and physical therapy has increased your range of motion. You have amazing control over your lower body. I expect that you are very flexible for a man with your muscle mass."
"Bones, how is this helpful to the case?" He squirmed.
"I am sorry … my mind is … elsewhere," she looked away.
He was getting a little embarrassed. "As much as I enjoy you being distracted by me … physically … we do have a murder to solve."
"That won't be solved tonight," she stated turning back to take in his form again.
"What's your point?"
"I find that I want to indulge this … distraction." She bit her lips hungrily.
"Are you undressing me with your eyes?" he asked trying to feign some bravado.
"Way past that, Booth … I am down past the muscles into your skeletal structure. You have some great bones, Booth."
"I can see pillow talk with you is gonna be ... anatomically correct." She was still studying him. "Can I have my skin and clothes back, please?"
She looked away. "I don't need to be looking at you to see you."
"Ok … now that is distracting .. and more than a little disturbing."
"In fact I do not want to consummate the relationship just yet."
"What? Why not?" He was affronted at first. How was it that she always got to make that decision? "Not that I asked ... I mean typically it is the guy who makes the first move."
"As an alpha male I expect that you would be more comfortable being the aggressor sexually, but from knowing you this many years, I suspect that you are not intimidated by a sexually assertive female."
"I'm not intimidated, Bones. It's just the way things are done."
"The way things are done - in your view - there are tribes in -."
"We are here, Bones ... the good old USofA. It is the way things are done here, OK?"
She continued to look out the window. "So you are not distracted by the prospect that we will be having intercourse in the future - the very near future?"
"JEEZ, Bones ... Ok ... Stop … this is a work zone, OK? ... You do not talk sex at work."
"We are in the car," she stated.
"This is an FBI vehicle – hence an FBI Office. It's work ... you don't talk sex at work ... OK? It's a rule." He shot her a look. "OK ... no sex talk in the vehicle."
"Then we should take my car." He rolled his eyes. "I'll let you drive," she offered. She turned toward him and leaned over a bit. "What other rules do you have that I should know about?" she asked seductively. She started to reach over to touch his thigh but he blocked it.
"Ok ... none of that either."
"No touching, no talking, no flirting … not at work … not in the car."
"I don't flirt, Booth." She turned back to look out the window.
"You are doing a great ... well for you a great imitation of it right now." He squirmed in his seat. "I thought you were better at compartmentalizing."
"Just checking the boundaries of this new relationship." Booth couldn't help but smile. She was so unlike any other woman.
"It is your fault," she declared. "You shouldn't have kissed me like you did."
"What was wrong with how I kissed you?"
"It was seductive ... it was foreplay ... you shouldn't kiss me like that if you weren't planning on following through," she informed him. "That is flirting."
"I'll take that under advisement," he said.
"I enjoyed kissing you," she stated. "But it got me thinking about -."
"HEY ... what did I just say? What are the rules?"
"Enjoy kissing me."
"Of course I did ... but I can't think about it right now ... we're working."
"We aren't working. We're driving."
"Well one of us needs to stay on task here."
"Fair enough." She thought for a minute. "Since we won't be having sex tonight - does that help keep you focused?"
"What? Why not?"
"I suspect that this feeling will be temporary and I want to prolong it."
"Temporary? You are bored already?"
"Hardly ... and I have faith that our sexual encounters will be very satisfying ... but it is reasonable to believe that as time goes on when there is more familiarity the anticipation will not be as ... distracting."
"Nice, Bones? Thanks a lot. Really know how to make a guy feel wanted."
"I want to enjoy fantasizing about it a little longer."
"Act on the fantasy."
"Isn't that where I come in?" he grinned.
"No, Booth ... I am talking about masturb-,"
"JEEZ Bones, the rules?" He cut her off.
"It's perfectly natural, Booth. I am sure you have done it ... when you were young or while you were away? Some men do it every time they take a shower."
"We are not talking about this, Bones."
"Did you ever fantasize about me when you were-"
"OK, Bones ... stop ... just stop. You are digging into a man's private thoughts ... by definition they are private ... ok ... stay out."
"I'll admit that you were subject of my -."
"BONES, please ... would you just stop talking about ..."
"You can say the word Booth. It's normal ... natural ... in fact many couples engage in mutual -."
"HEY, Hey, Hey ... stop - OK?" He just shook his head.
"Oh right ... Catholic, you don't like talking about sex."
"Right ... 'cause I am Catholic, exactly."
"It doesn't cause blindness, you know." Booth rolled his eyes. "Your Catholic views on sex are repressive and lead to -"
"NO, no ... stop right there ... you are not dissing the Catholics, OK? Little respect."
She paused for a moment. "So you are distracted as well," she concluded.
"Where did you get that?" Of course he was, but how did she know.
"You have driven past my apartment three times now."
"Just looking for a parking spot," he lied.
"There is no reason for you to park," she said evenly. "You won't be coming up."
"What about the case?" he protested weakly. She couldn't possibly be serious about not consummating … not after that whole conversation. And yes Booth has anticipated in the past, but not when he could have the real thing.
"It is after two in the morning Booth. I suspect we are both tired and won't get much work done."
He pulled in to a spot that was open in front of her building. "So you really aren't going to let me come up," he asked putting the vehicle in park and shutting off the lights. She got out of the SUV. He jumped out after her. "Wait, wait, wait ... not so fast there." He caught up to her and wrapped an arm around her waist. "Don't I even get a good night kiss?" She edged closer to him bringing her lips very close to his. She could feel his warm breath and his beating heart. She leaned still closer waiting for him to take the final step. He did. It left her dizzy. No one had ever left her dizzy. She nearly swooned in his arms. That was foreplay, he thought. "You really going to let me just drive away after that?" She didn't answer quickly. It wasn't that she was considering her answer; she just couldn't formulate the words. "You know I have no home … no place to … anticipate our next encounter … and the thought of you anticipating without me is … well … distracting."
Brennan recovered enough to ask. "Your apartment?"
"No," he said as he trailed kisses down her neck. "Bad juju there," he explained. "Spent the last couple of nights at Charlie's sharing the couch with two Shih Tzus and a Rottweiler named Butch."
"That must be really bad on your lower lumbar," she tucked her hands up under his shirt and raked her nails down his back.
"You have no idea," he mumbled. "Bad for the ... flexibility."
"Well, in the interest of your physical well being … I suggest you stay with me."
"Too kind, Bones." He looked back into her soft loving eyes. "What about … anticipation?"
"I have never been good with delayed gratification." She kissed him.
"Overrated," he mumbled and kissed her back. Of course the image of Brennan anticipating would be saved for the next time Booth was anticipating.
"A couple of things you should consider before you join me."
"Go on," he leaned back onto the SUV, pulling her with him thinking 'this ought to be good.'
"It has been widely reported that men reach their sexual peak between the ages of 18 and 25."
"Total fallacy," Booth stated.
"And women between 35-40."
"So I am ready to be put out to pastured and Dr. Cougar here is looking for a new stud, is that right?"
"Not at all ... in my experience, my sexual partners - regardless of age or any other concrete factors - tend to mirror my ... intensity."
"Really Bones ... you really want to talk about the sexual research you have done over the years? Seriously ... write a paper, teach a class ... whatever ... you are killing the mood here."
"I have a voracious appetite, Booth." She leaned into him pressing her pelvis against his and nipping at his lower lip. Mood was back. "Couple that with the amount of time I have been celibate ... I just don't want you to be caught unawares - on our first time."
"Bones, do you talk this much during sex, or is this just your version of foreplay?"
She leaned her entire body weight again him, gave him a deep and penetrating kiss and the pushed off leaving him stunned for a moment. "You should park in the garage," she handed him her key card. "I don't expect you will be up in the morning to move your vehicle for street cleaning."
As the light of dawn peeked in through the curtains, Booth lay on his side away facing away from her. He wasn't asleep but he wasn't entirely conscious either. He was completely relaxed and resting. He was used to losing sleep but never for such a satisfying cause.
For Brennan, the experience was beyond words. She never felt as connected to another person in her life. It was more than physically and sexually satisfying, it was emotionally ... indescribable. She didn't even try to put words to it. She would grant his physics theory in concept rather than actual fact but didn't feel she needed to vocalize the distinction.
Brennan turned toward him. The sheet was tossed low across his hip covering the top of his thigh. She could see all the injuries he had suffered: the shrapnel and bullet wounds, the burns and the scar he got playing with his brother and one that was so old it probably came from his father when he was no more than nine. Such abuse his body had taken in forty years and yet how much pleasure it was still able to give and receive. She wanted to touch him, too take those scars away - at least the memory of them - but she didn't want to disturb him. What an amazing man. After all he had been through in life; a lesser man would have given up. A lesser man would have turned dark and cynical. Booth did have his cynical side - but no one would ever accuse him of giving up.
She felt his breathing quicken, his heart rate increase. His temperature was rising. He was dreaming - rather reliving that nightmare. She moved closer to him. He startled awake and was about to get up, but her hand was on him. Her arms wrapped around him and she pulled him back against her. "It's OK," she said softly. "It's OK." Normally when he awoke from that memory he didn't want to be touched; he couldn't be comforted. In Brennan's arms he allowed himself to slowly come back to present. She gently ran her fingertips over his back finding each of the scars and placing a soft kiss on them. The burn scar on his back, hip and thigh bled into the brand Booth suffered while being tortured by Gallagher. The whole area required a lot of attention.
In his mind, his scars were ugly reminders of all the bad things that had happened to him and that he had done in his life. He didn't wear them like badges of courage, rather they were humbling reminders that he needed to be a better man. He never liked to give them attention or have anyone else notice them. But Brennan was different. It was as if she were reading the story of his life and he found that he wanted her to know - know everything there was to know about him, every horrific detail. He would have to tell her about the ones that didn't leave a mark on his body, but they had time. They had lots of time.
She rolled him over onto his back and continued her attentions to the scars on his chest. The bullet wound on the right side of his chest gave her pause. He had taken a bullet for her. "I love you," she said knowing that it wasn't enough.
He tilted her face toward his. She was so much more than beautiful; she was his and more importantly he was hers. "I love you," he returned before pulling her in for a morning kiss. His life was changing, he could feel it. He fell asleep sated and happy, woke from a nightmare into the sweetest dream he could imagine. "I love you," he said again. He rolled her over so he could prove it to her. The night before had been passionate, intense, hungry and wild. He has suspected how physical she would be, but he hadn't known how much she would elicit from him. But morning love was about adoration, appreciation and love. Making love would be slow and sensual. Morning love was the time when he would be in control and truly make her understand that depth of his feelings.
He found her on the balcony looking out over the courtyard. Lots of people scurrying about their daily lives as if nothing had changed. As if that day were just another day not the start of a whole new life. She pitied them their ignorance. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her protectively to his chest. "Morning," he said huskily into her ear.
"Yes it is ... a fantastic morning at that." She leaned back into him.
"You OK?" he asked tentatively. "Been awfully quiet."
"I'm great ... speechless." She thought he would appreciate that.
He liked thinking that he could leave her speechless. "Not distracted anymore?"
She turned in his arms so she could look at him. "Do you want to know what I have discovered?"
"Everything," he kissed her lightly.
"Having intimate knowledge of a subject is much more distracting than ..."
"Anticipating," he prompted. "The more you know, the more you want to know?"
"Exactly." She brushed his lips lightly with hers. "What happens now?"
"You are asking me?"
"You have more experience with this than I do."
"Never experienced anything like this, Bones. There is no one like you ... this is all new to me."
"Then we will find our own way." She hugged him tightly. "Will you really give up your apartment?"
"Yeah ... don't like the neighborhood."
"Do you like this neighborhood?"
"I like the neighbors," he stole a quick kiss from her.
"There is plenty of room here."
"An intriguing offer, Bones ... but I will still need a different address."
"Isn't that what Post Office boxes are for?"
He grinned. "You are a genius."
"Don't ask, don't tell." He said like it was reasonable. "We are special, Bones - we can have whatever we want."
"I find I do not want outside intrusion just yet."
"We have lost so much time," he said guiltily. "That is my fault. I'm sorry."
"I'll make it up to you, Bones. If it takes the rest of my life - and I seriously hope it does - I will make it up to you."
"You have done nothing wrong," she protested.
"You are the only woman in the world that would believe that," he said. "Sending you away was wrong." There were other things that were wrong but naming them would be way too real.
She pulled away from him. "I don't want the past to intrude on our present ... not this morning."
"I have accepted your apology," she stepped away. "You do not need to make amends. I was not entirely guiltless."
"Bones," he followed her back into the apartment.
"Let's start from here."
"You know that we can't ... we are the sum of our experiences."
"I accept that. I agree with that. But as each new experience is added the sum is changed. We are not who we were ... we are who we are ... and we will continue to change into the future."
"That is a little profound for me at this hour and with very little sleep."
"I suspect there will be other times to relive and reexamine the past and the roles we played, but not this morning. We have a case."
"Yeah ... the case," he was disappointed that work was intruding on them too. "We need a vacation," he stated.
"Yeah ... you and me on a beach somewhere ... what do you think?"
She smiled and moved closer to him. "I like it. When?"
"As soon as we make an arrest in Edwards' murder."
"Then we better get a move on. I'll take care of finding cause of death, you find us a beach." She kissed him nearly sucking his breath away before she dashed off to the shower.
"A beach?" He smiled. "Oh yeah ... a hot beach ... tropical sun ... clear blue water."
"Chop Chop, Booth ... day light is burning." She called from the shower.
Far away from Washington.
"Come on in," she cooed. "The water is fine."
"A very secluded beach," he grinned.
Agent Andy Lister emerged from the surf and ran up the beach. The late afternoon tropic sun glistened off the water dripping off his perfectly toned and tan form. His hair was longer than standard FBI issue and blonder. The wound over his heart wasn't completely healed. He slowed to a trot as he approached the prone form of his lover, equally tanned and tone. He bent over her blocking the sun and dripped warm salt water on to her sizzling legs.
"Hey!" She sat up quickly which allowed him to capture a deep kiss before she could protest, if indeed she really did want to protest. "Missed you," she moaned pulling him down onto the lounger built for two. The wound on her thigh was healing but was still an angry red under the coconut oil.
"Was only gone for ten minutes." He took a sip from some tropical concoction filled with more juice than alcohol as he settled comfortably next to her.
"Ten minutes too long." She kissed him again.
"Honeymoon?" an older woman sitting near them asked.
The lovers shared a smile, "No … just a well deserved extended vacation."
"I like to see young people enjoying themselves." Kathy Reichs and Andy Lister didn't feel young. They felt old, very, very old. But they also felt blessed. They had survived, survived enough to get out while the getting was good. It had been six months since they had escaped Salt's kidnapping and murder attempt. Five months since they called it quits and walked away from murder and death. Four months of floating around the Caribbean on a 60 foot Ketch without a worry in the world. "Where do you call home?" the woman asked.
They couple laughed together. "No home … no job … no obligations," Andy explained. "Off the grid!"
"We are still working that out," Kathy corrected. "For the moment, we call this little stretch of beach home … and a boat –"
"It's a ketch," Andy corrected.
"That keeps us from being too tied down."
"Very romantic," the old woman commented. The woman was about to ask another question, but Andy and Kathy had had enough of the intrusion. It wasn't that they didn't like people; they just didn't want any part of the outside world intruding on their happiness. They had finally found peace and joy in their solitude. They weren't ready to share.
"Come on, Babe," he said standing up and reaching for her hand. "We have a sunset to catch."
Kathy looked at the sky. "Another one?" she mocked. "Seems like just yesterday there was a sunset."
"Funny how it works like that." Andy wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close. "It was nice talking to you," he nodded to the woman purposely not asking her name. They strolled off to catch their sunset.
"Ah true love," the woman sighed wishing that she had found a piece of it for herself.
Moments later a lanky man with a limp loped up the sand to the old woman. "Was that Andy and Kathy?" he asked brightly of the old woman.
"I didn't catch their names," she said not liking the look of the man. "Not sure if they even knew I existed," she added. "True love … so precious."
"So true," he stated. "No two people deserve to find happiness more than Andy and Kathy."
"So you know them?" she held up her hand to block the sun and get a better look at the man.
"We used to … to work together," he said cryptically. "Allow me to introduce myself, Jackson Salt." The woman took the offered hand tentatively. He felt cold, cold to the bone. "If you see them again, before I do of course, tell them you saw me, would you please?"
"They are just going up the beach to watch the sunset, I am sure you can catch them."
Salt walked behind the woman's chair. "No, I don't want to intrude. I'll let you tell them. Be more of a surprise." With lightening speed and deadly accuracy he reached down and slit the old woman's throat. "Yeah, I think you should tell them." He dropped the bloody knife in Andy's drink and strode down the beach in the opposite direction.
The couple found their perch tucked into a cove that was completely private. Andy wrapped his arms around Kathy from behind and pulled her completely against his body. He nuzzled her neck and nipped at her lobe as the sun faded away on another day in paradise. "I love you," he whispered.
"I love you." She turned to face him. "How much more of this can we take?"
"You asking if I am bored?"
"I would have thought an aimless life with nothing productive to occupy your mind would be driving you stir crazy about now."
"Aimless & unproductive? I have great aim and I can be very productive." He pulled her mouth to his and tangled his tongue with hers; he freed her of her uniform (the bikini that had become her daily wear) and laid her down to make sweet, sweet love in the final rays of the day. He was determined, nothing would interfere with their bliss not for a long time to come.
Angela leaned back away from her desk with a fantastic smile. "Last book, my ass," she said to herself. "Andy and Kathy have only just begun." She looked out her office window to see Brennan and Booth in a heated discussion. They were probably arguing over evidence. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but their body language was unmistakable. Brennan leaned in and placed the palm of her hand on his chest and slid it down to his waist. He would lose this argument. Booth tensed, his eyes darkened and a smile edged his lips. He took her hand and led her away. Angela wanted to tell them that there were cameras everywhere including the Egyptian storage and limbo, but she would let them find that out for themselves.
She stepped out of her office watch them exit the lab.
"Let's go, Booth." She called urgently to him.
"Right behind you," he said. "We are taking your car ... I'm driving."
Booth and Brennan had only just begun, too.
Thanks for playing along. I hope it was worth the angst. Here's to season 6. Let's hope they don't go this dark a route but have a similar outcome.
- Updated 7/17/10 - IF this is a REREAD ... drop a comment to let me know what was compelling enough to read again. Working on the flip side story and need to know what was good and bad.