Well, now, here's something I really think you are going to enjoy. SleeplessInAtlanta and I are working together on a story and we're beginning to post them today. "Them?" you ask? Well, yes, because it's not that we're working on the SAME story...you see, we have a different idea. We've taken one idea, that through jealously, either Booth or Brennan would finally push too far and the other would snap, right? But we're not writing the same story from different points of view. No, we're writing the same idea, with mirroring plots. Does that make sense? Ha, it confuses us too! So, in my scenario, Brennan is going to get jealous and in Sleepsies, Booth gets jealous. Sound possible? We think so! We'll be updating the stories together over the next few weeks, so stay tuned for that. But for now, go on ahead and read the below and let me know what you think. And when you're done with that, hop on over to read "Anyway She Wants It" and let Sleepless know what you think! Okay?
"Ah…" Hodgins leaned back in his chair, and his throat worked as he took a long pull from his beer. With a smack of his lips, he set the beer back down on the bar. "Another case solved."
"Word up," Sweets nodded and lifted his own beer in a salute.
"Yeah," Booth gave him a look as he clinked his beer against Sweets' anyway. "Don't say word up."
Hodgins laughed at them and then handed another beer to Wendell who arrived. "Here, bro. Good work on this one."
"Sure, thanks." Wendell nodded, resting his elbows on the bar. "So, what's the deal? Just us guys tonight?"
Booth tilted his head to the side and motioned with the neck of his beer bottle toward the other side of the bar. "The women…are over there."
"Yeah, and we're waiting on their drinks," Sweets spoke up.
"Hey, you guys might be waiting," Booth insisted, running his hand down his loosened tie. "I'm not the married one." He motioned toward Hodgins and gave Sweets a look. "Or the one with the on again off again girlfriend."
Sweets flushed but managed to still get in a dig. "No, you're just the one with the 'partner', whatever that actually does mean."
Booth's eyes narrowed on Sweets. "You're drunk already."
"What?" he sputtered. "No I'm not."
Hodgins watched the exchange and laughed. Wendell laughed too and then lifted his chin. "So, Hodgins, how do you enjoy married life?"
"It's great, man." The entomologist nodded. "It really is."
"Yeah," Booth groused. "I'm just glad you guys actually got married this time. And hey," he chuckled. "I didn't even have to rent a tux."
Hodgins laughed and Wendell looked between them, slightly confused. "As Dr. Brennan would say, I don't know what that means."
Booth waved his hand. "When Hodgins and Angela were supposed to get married the first time, I was the best man."
"Ah…awesome." Sweets' eyes narrowed and he leaned in. "Oh, man…please tell me you threw him the most wicked bachelor party ever."
"Well…" Booth shook his head. "We didn't actually have one."
"No time." Hodgins nodded, tapping the bar for another beer. "Though this one was even faster."
Wendell leaned his back against the bar. "We should totally do one now. A retro-active bachelor party."
The other three men considered it. Booth took a swig of his beer and nodded. "It could work."
Hodgins got a small gleam in his eye. "It might actually be kind of fun. And, I mean…hell, I'll pay."
"Nice…" Sweets joined in the fun, and then frowned. "But won't Angela be upset with you going to a strip club."
Booth hid a smile behind his beer bottle and Hodgins chuckled, slapping Sweets on the back. "Have you met Angela?"
The psychologist tilted his head to the side in acknowledgement. "To Angela" he raised his beer. And the other three men nodded and did the same. "To Angela."
"To me, what?" the very artist in question approached them, leaning in to give her husband a kiss.
"Oh," he grinned at her. "Only my retroactive bachelor party, that's all."
"Hmmmm…" she ran her hands over his chest to his shoulders. "Sounds fun."
Sweets watched on with amazement as Angela kissed Hodgins, completely indeed fine with the plan. And Booth smiled at his surprise.
He turned to see his partner walking his way. A quick thought of how good she still looked, even after an entire work week flickered in his mind. "Heya, Bones. I got you a beer."
She smiled at him and took the barstool next to him. "Thanks Booth."
"Yeah," he nodded. "Sure thing."
The next Thursday…
Angela lounged in Brennan's office, kicking her feet up on the coffee table. "So…what are we going to do tonight, Brennan?"
Her friend looked at her over the top of her laptop screen. "I already told you. I'm working. With Booth going out, it's a great time for me to get some of my personal work done."
Angela made a disgusted face. "So, while my husband goes out on his bachelor party, I'm supposed to…what…knit?"
"It that some sort of euphemism?" Brennan asked, not looking up from her work.
"No sweetie," Angela rolled her eyes. "It's actually not."
Brennan spared her a glance then, but soon looked toward her door when she heard Booth enter.
"Hey, hey, Bones…get your pen ready, because I need your John Hancock."
Angela stood and eyed Booth appreciatively. "Well, you look nice." She punched him in the arm. "You're going to keep an eye on Hodgins tonight, right?"
Booth just grinned and didn't reply, instead he turned toward Brennan, sliding the file across her desk.
"Bren…doesn't Booth look nice," Angela wheedled from behind the special agent, making a thumbs up sign toward Brennan.
"Booth always looks nice," is all Brennan replied as she calmly signed the forms.
"Well, yeah," Angela acknowledged. "But…especially nice tonight. If I'm not mistaken, I'll bet there will be a lot of ladies who will want to get their hands on him tonight. Plus…he smells great."
"Okay, okay…" Booth rolled his shoulders back. "I think I saw Hodgins out near the platform. Don't you want to go wish your husband a great time?"
Angela smiled at him knowingly. "Okay, yes. But remember, Booth…safe sex!"
Brennan didn't notice when Booth rolled his eyes. She was too busy watching her friend walk out of her office. When she turned back to Booth, he was more composed. She took in the way his dark jeans made his legs seem long and strong and the way his black dress shirt was unbuttoned one extra button than earlier in the day. "Are you planning to have sex tonight?"
"What?" he scoffed. "Bones, please. Just sign the forms, okay? It's just a bachelor party. We're going to get drunk, hopefully get Sweets to realize that he could do a lot better than Daisy, and hell…I don't know, maybe play some cards or something."
"Are you going to gamble?" she asked, frowning up at him.
"No, Bones." He placed a hand over his heart in a mock pledge. "I will not gamble. Okay? Now can I go, Sister Mary Temperance?"
Her nose wrinkled. "I don't know what that means," she answered. "And I'm not quite done completing these forms. You can take a seat if you want."
Booth pressed his hands to his hips. "No, Bones, I don't want. I want to get out of here and actually have a night."
Before returning to the forms, she looked at him again. "Based on the scent of your aftershave, I'd say you are certainly interested in engaging with sexual relations with someone tonight. You've worn that particular scent before, though not often."
His eyebrows shot up and he pointed to the forms. "Since when do you memorize my aftershaves, hmmm? Come on, Bones. Spit spot, sign the damn forms."
Brennan didn't say anything else but just signed the last two documents, closed the file and with one finger, slid it to the edge of her desk. Booth used one of his fingers and slid it even closer to him before taking it into his hand and tapping it against his chest. "Thank you." He nodded in her direction and pointed the file toward her. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"See you," she tilted her head in a goodbye and watched him leave. And it was a few minutes before she realized she was still staring at the door.
Hours later, she yawned and leaned back in her chair, cracking her neck. And when her phone rang, she pulled it out and smiled at the screen. "Hello Angela," she said as she put the phone up to her ear.
"Please don't tell me you're still at your desk."
When there was silence, the artist make a whining sound. "Bren, what are you doing?"
"What am I doing?" Brennan laughed incredulously. "I'm working. It's a Thursday night. It's very common for me to be working on a night like this."
"Yeah, with Booth," Angela insisted, and Brennan's lips hardened into a firm line.
She sighed. "What do you want, Ange?"
"I want you to come and join me at the diner. We'll have some fries and pretend that our men aren't staring at naked women."
Brennan's fingers tensed from all the typing she'd done and her stomach growled at the mention of fries. "Okay, I'll be there in thirty minutes."
And then she leaned forward. "And Booth isn't my man."
But from the sound of it, Angela had already hung up.
Thirty one minutes later, Brennan rushed into the diner, smiling politely toward the normal waitress behind the counter as she moved to where Angela was already sitting.
"You're late," the artist grinned, but motioned for Brennan to sit down. "And I already ordered the fries."
They shared a look of friendship and Brennan ordered a water and a chocolate milkshake for herself.
"So, did you get your work done?" Angela asked.
"There is always more work to do," Brennan shrugged. "But yes, I did get quite a lot accomplished."
"Right," Angela eyed her but then grew distracted when the French fries arrived. "So…" she began, reaching for the ketchup. "Do you think the guys are having a good time?"
Brennan didn't quite manage a casual tone when she paused before answering. "Good is relative, but I'd imagine that if the atmosphere is right and they are enjoying each other's company, then yes, they are probably having a good time."
Angela watched a play of emotions cross her friend's face, and she kindly kept her opinions to herself.
They talked of other things as they ate and then Angela talked Brennan into seeing a late night movie with her.
But Brennan was distracted the entire time. The room was dark and her mind wandered, wondering what Booth was doing.
She'd spent a lot of time with him over the years, and while she hadn't set out to memorize his personal quirks, the truth was that she recognized certain things about him. And whenever his hair was particularly just so, whenever he shaved at night, whenever he wore a shirt unbuttoned like he had tonight…usually that meant he had other plans. Plans that did not include her. Normally, she didn't ask. But since she now knew that he planned to visit a strip club with Hodgins and Sweets and Wendell, she couldn't help but put the two together and conclude that Booth could be, as Angela might say, "on the prowl". A sick feeling settled in her stomach, and it had nothing to do with the French fries or the Twizzlers Angela had insisted she buy for the movie.
Once the movie was over, she managed to smile to Angela and recite a moment as her favorite part before she got into her car and drove home. Once inside her apartment, she stood at the door for a few seconds, taking a look around to see if there was anything that could distract her from her current thoughts. Deciding it was better to just get ready for bed, Brennan pushed away from the door. She warmed up a cup of water in her microwave and sorted her mail, preparing a cup of night time tea. Sipping it slowly, she carried it back to her bedroom, pulling her shades even tighter before she stripped out of her clothes and pulled on a silk nightgown. With her tea on her nightstand and the lamp there turned off, she slid under the covers, closing her eyes and trying a few breathing exercises in an attempt to sleep.
But it eluded her. Instead, she was tempted by images of the skin of Booth's neck and throat and with his scent. Her stomach hollowed out as a rush of desire made her thighs tighten and her palms warm. It was a quick trip to imagining Booth sitting at a bar, leaning close to another woman and smiling. Or worse…Booth sitting in a chair as a nearly naked woman moved sensually over him. She could imagine his cocky smile as he grinned toward the other men in his party. Brennan's jaw tightened as she forced her eyes open, hoping it would eliminate the cruel fantasies.
Booth had claimed to be just going out with the guys, and the truth was that she had no particular right to care one way or the other who he shared his bed with.
The thought of Booth, naked in his bed with a pair of legs wrapped around his waist, his hips pistoning forward...it caused a tightness in her chest, and she rolled over onto her stomach. And that made the silk of her nightgown stick ever so slightly against her breasts and thighs. Her nipples hardened and instinctively, her hips rocked down into her mattress. A soft sigh of uncomfortable dissatisfaction escaped her lips. It took all of her energy not to slip her fingers under the hem of her nightgown and imagine Booth's hands instead.
She wanted him. It wasn't too hard to understand why; he was nearly a perfect male specimen. And a smile curved up her lips when she considered how he might react to her saying those words. His eyes would spark at the word 'perfect' and ignoring the 'nearly' part, he'd probably roll his shoulders back and tell her that she shouldn't say specimen. "It sounds too squinty," he'd say, and Brennan felt a wave of pleasure at the way she imagined his voice, low in her ear.
It was then that she realized that quite without her permission, her hand had indeed found its way to the center of her legs. Her tongue shot out and she licked her lips as in the privacy of her bedroom, she used her thumb to stroke around her clit, imagining Booth's tongue instead. "Booth," she mouthed against her pillow, her brain going back and forth between imagining the sensation of his clean shaven face between her legs or the way he looked normally at the end of the day. With a little bit of stubble on his chin, scraping against her bare skin as his teeth and lips and tongue toyed with her clit.
"Oh," she gasped, her other hand fisting in the sheets beneath her. Not getting enough leverage, she turned onto her back and began to rotate her hips on her hand while her other thumb stroked her right nipple through the silk of her nightgown. She felt her own wetness on the sheets against her lower back and the sensation sent a chill up her spine, ending at the base of her brain which responded to her entire body in the form of a pulsing, Booth-fantasy inspired orgasm.
It almost gave her a high, the amount of pleasure released in her body. But like any addicted druggie, she soon felt the crash, as the reality of being alone in her bed washed over her.
Brennan balled up her pillow underneath her neck and tried to get some sleep.
The next morning…
"Yeah, exactly," Booth was saying into his phone. Brennan watched him, her eyes narrowing on the way he looked completely…normal.
His white dress shirt was snug against his shoulders and perfectly tailored down to his waist. His red tie was straight and his shirt cuffs were folded back against his forearms. He noticed her then and waved her in with one hand while lifting up the end of his phone with the other.
"Caroline," he mouthed, and Brennan's eyebrows rose as she made her way into the office, sitting in a chair across from him.
"Yeah, I know," he insisted and rolled his eyes toward Brennan. "She's here now and we're going to talk it over with Sweets in about ten minutes. I'll let you know what we come up with."
His own eyebrows rose at something he was hearing and he sort of choked. "Well, sure. I mean, okay, yeah. Talk to you later, Caroline."
He closed his phone and tossed it on his desk, leaning back in his chair. It was then that Brennan noticed he looked a bit hungover.
"How was last night?" she asked, as calmly as possible, ignoring the answering tremor in her thighs at the blunt tips of his fingers running through his hair again.
He just shrugged. "It was fine. Nothing major."
Brennan's eyes narrowed again. "Fine."
"Yeah," Booth insisted, tapping on the case. "That's what I said. Now, if we meet with Sweets now, we can probably do one of his feel goodery exercises this morning and not have to do one for a couple of weeks, right?"
He repeated his words when he noticed Brennan wasn't listening. "Yoohoo, Bones!"
Brennan blinked and realized her train of thought. Quickly, she stood up and made her way over toward the window looking out onto the street. When she didn't answer, Booth stood up too and walked over to her.
The scent of his everyday aftershave annoyed her. Hackles raised, she pursed her lips and looked him over from head to toe. "Did you have sex last night?"
A humorless laugh escaped his lips as his arms crossed in front of his chest.
"It's a perfectly reasonable question, Booth. After all…you were dressed a certain way that would indicate interest in satisfying biological urges."
Instead of denying it, Booth held his ground. "Wouldn't you like to know?"
Brennan's eyes widened and she couldn't stop her eyes from once again moving from his head to this feet, as if somehow she was going to be able to tell, just by looking at him that he'd had sex or not. No scratches were visible, nothing at all to tell her one way or the other. "I would like to know, actually."
His jaw tightened and he licked his lips once. "What if I said yes?"
Brennan felt her throat nearly dry out at his low tone.
"You've already pretty much decided, haven't you? No matter what I say? So if you think I did, then I must have, right? There you have it. What if I told you that we went to the strip club, and I picked out a real beauty, Bones. And I invited her back to my place. Is this what you want to know? That she had the most amazing body, and that I fucked her against the wall. And then I fed her ice cream and fucked her again in my bed. Is that it?" His eyes narrowed, but his palms opened toward her in a non threatening fashion.
"Booth…" she gasped, but he didn't stop.
"What if I said that it was the best sex I've had in months, hmmm? What then? What if I told you…" he paused and then leaned closer, pressing his hands to his hips. "What if I told you she has blue eyes? And dark hair?"
Brennan had to tilt her head back to maintain eye contact, but there wasn't an ounce of her being that wanted to step back. Booth's magnetism drew her in and she could not resist, no matter what he said.
"What if…" he licked his lips. "What if I said I went home alone last night?" There was nothing in his tone that indicated which of his scenarios was true. "What then, Bones? Is that what you want to know? That I went home and was alone. Lonely. That alone in my bed…I stripped off all of my clothes and wrapped my hand around my own cock. Hmmm? And I began to stroke it, nice and slow at first, imagining...blue eyes, dark hair...legs wrapped around my waist. What then?"
His throat worked, and his chest firmed, and Brennan wanted to look down to see if he was getting as aroused by his own words as she was. She'd taunted him before, though never quite like this, and he'd never once gotten in her face. Images of him palming the head of his erect penis…possibly at the same exact time she'd imagined him licking her into an orgasm…slid into her mind's eye like a feature film.
"And then I picked up speed, oh yeah, and it felt so good. I tightened my palm, stroking up and down and up and down, so fast, so hard. And I came, Bones. And as good as it was, it wasn't enough. Is that what you want to know?"
And then all of a sudden, he took a step back. "Does that satisfy your curiosity? To know that jacking off doesn't cut it anymore? That I want the real thing. That I need it so badly, I almost feel like I'm going crazy. Is that enough, Bones? Does that information match up with your fucking research? Hmmm?"
Brennan blinked and watched as he walked out of his office. She knew in the back of her mind that they were supposed to meet with Sweets.
But her body was frozen in place, a contradiction to the hot awareness firing up her insides.
Instinctively, she felt that Booth hadn't slept with anyone the night before. Whether or not he'd actually masturbated, she wasn't sure. But she had a sense, based on her own experience from the night before, that even if he had, it wasn't as fulfilling as complete intercourse.
Straightening her jacket, she turned and walked out of his office, making her way to their meeting with Sweets.
Booth swallowed and pulled in a deep breath, crossing one leg over the other knee in an attempt to hide the fact that his body was now almost on complete alert. His fingers tapped against his leg and he gave Sweets a forced smile. "I'm sure she'll be here any minute. She just said she had to run to the restroom," he lied.
"Sure, sure," Sweets nodded, steepling his fingers together. "So…headache today?"
"Nah," Booth waved with a dismissive hand. "You?"
Sweets' face contracted for a moment before he mimicked the wave. "Who me? No," he scoffed. "Not even."
"Right…" Booth nodded, knowing it was a lie but not really wanting to get into it. Before it became an issue, his partner knocked on the office door and entered. He spared her a glance but then handed Sweets the case file.
And as they discussed it, he was mostly able to keep his mind from wandering. From remembering the way her lips parted when she'd gasped his name in surprise. And from the way her cheeks had flushed at his description. Son of a bitch, what in the hell had he been thinking?
"So…you'll give the information to Ms Julian, then?" Sweets was asking, and Booth blinked out of his thoughts.
"Yeah, sure," he took the papers back. "That works. She's already called me twice about today anyways. I'm sure she's standing outside my office waiting."
Sweets made a mock horrified look and Booth and Brennan both smiled in acknowledgement. "Well, if I don't see you guys again," he stood as well. "Have a great weekend."
"Yeah, sure," Booth saluted him with the file. "You too, Sweets. And hey, lay off those Gin and Tonics."
Sweets flushed and Booth smirked. And then Brennan spoke up.
"Yes, see you, Sweets. Oh, and Booth…before I head back to the Jeffersonian, I just wanted to let you know that I plan to mostly be at my apartment this weekend. So if you do end up needing help with what we were talking about earlier…I would be happy to assist."
With that, she walked out, and Booth stood there, stunned. It took him a moment to realize that Sweets might get suspicious if he stayed any longer. He forced his feet to move forward as he walked back to his office where sure enough, Ms. Julian was standing and waiting. And as he gave her the information and made his way back behind his desk, he could really only concentrate on one thing.
Bones had just offered him a booty call.