AN: So, a little drabble. And I don't own a thing, even if Booth is entirely mine in my dreams =)
I scoff at my reflection in the bathroom-mirror. I have a jaw covered in itching stubble, my eyes are weary and blood-shot and the dark circles under my eyes could rival those of any crack-addict I've ever had the misfortune to look at. My skin is unusually pale and a thin sheen of sweat shimmers on my forehead. Depressingly enough, I don't feel any better than I appear. It's all her fault.
Ok, I need to be honest. She didn't open the bottle of tequila, and she didn't force the burning liquor down my throat. She certainly didn't hide my razors or disconnect the shower, either. But, and to this I owe, she is the reason anyway. She is the reason to why I feel like shit, and she is the reason to why I've been hiding in my apartment for the entire weekend, with my phone turned off. If I could go back and erase last Friday afternoon all together, I would. I would erase and delete the image of Dr. Temperance Brennan, walking away stiffly from our argument, headed out on a date with some no-good idiot Dr Something-or-other, which, by the way, is totally un-worthy and un-deserving of a woman like her. He wouldn't know what to do with her if she came with a manual, and she certainly does not.
I had strolled casually in to her office with an easy-going "Hey, Bones, wanna head to the Diner?" and really, the request was only formality since we always went there nowadays. I had certainly not expected to be denied her companionship tonight.
"Sorry, Booth, I can't." She had rapidly and efficiently gathered her things, stuffing her briefcase with documents and files before shutting it with a snapping sound. "I'm otherwise occupied tonight."
What? "Really, Bones? You have an interesting forensic article you can't wait to read until tomorrow? Come on, I'm starving and really need to get me some pie."
She hadn't looked at me since I'd gotten there, and something about it seemed odd.
With her back turned to me, to reach for her coat, I didn't quite hear her remark, but I could have sworn she said something about a date.
"Come again, Bones?"
"I have a date, Booth" she said and turned, but not to me but to the doors, and she started to walk away from me.
"A date?" I suspected I looked like a fish out of water with my mouth slightly agape, and for some reason it seemed as if I couldn't make my legs move to block her path. "A date, Bones? With whom?"
She stopped, but did not turn to face me. It bothered the hell outta me. "You don't know him, an old colleague of mine." Why didn't she look at me? "I have to leave, Booth, or I'll be late. See you Monday." Then… She simply left, not even a glance in my direction.
I had done what every warm-blooded, hopelessly -in-love sucker would do on such occasion. I went home, and drank myself shitless while wallowing in self-pity. Now, 36 hours of plenty of booze and far less sleep, I looked the part. Completely. I decided I would give a shit, tomorrow.
See, it had taken me all of these hours and all of the alcohol to get me to admit the truth. The woman I love; the one I would never be able to move past or forget… She had moved on. The tiny hope I had held on to, the faint voice inside of me that told me she would come around and choose to take a chance on me… At her words that hope had crumbled to the ground and shattered me. It didn't matter if this date didn't work out, she would go out again. Someone else would touch her, maybe dance with her and kiss her, and I would have to see it happen, because I knew I could never bring myself to leave her behind. Bones would satisfy her urges, and by all means, go ahead, because if it had been me… I knew it would be more than satisfying urges and what killed me was that she didn't even know. With all of her smarts, she had no idea of what making love was, and now I would never have the opportunity to show her.
"Ghaa!" Even now, in my poor, drunken state, that lush body of hers, so vivid in my mind, made parts of me grow impossibly hard. Her curves, always on display for me underneath the blue lab-coat I loathed and loved simultaneously, always made me desperate to touch and taste. I've lost count on how many times I had to hide an unprofessional hard-on when she had bent down to examine remains or brushed to close by me. Or her breasts, her god-damned breasts that perked out to greet me when she raised her arms to pull her hair up in a pony-tail or her ass… Or legs that seemed to go on forever. Or her skin, so pale and delicate… And what about her lips? I longed to taste them once again. Great, why did I have to go there? I rubbed my hand on the hard bulge that was my manhood, and figured life could not be any more depressing. Here I was, drunk and alone, sporting wood at the mere thought of my partner, while she was out and about satisfying urges, no doubt. Temperance fuckin' Brennan. Always. Fuck, I was not nearly drunk enough.
Monday morning, and the Hangover of all epic hangovers is killing me. I know better than to drive myself to work, so I signal a cab from the corner of my street. When the driver takes off, I feel like I'm about to hurl from the motions. I feel like shit, and I'm sure I still look the part, even though I showered and shaved this morning. As long as there's no new case, at least I won't have to see her today. She knows me well enough to see what's going on, and she will not let it slide.
The hours passes slowly as I try my best to at least appear busy behind my desk, in case one of my co-workers decided to look through the glass-door. I'm going through the motions but if I'm being honest, and I try to be, there's nothing that can keep my focus on bad-guys and criminals today. I really, really try not to think about her, but she sneaks her way back in my mind without me even noticing it. She's there, she's made herself comfortable and she's staying, god damn her.
My phone beeps and it's a text. Bones.
-Lunch at Diner? T.
Fuck. I don't know what I should answer her. I don't want to see her, but I do, you know? I always want to see her, but in the light of recent developments, maybe I shouldn't. I just know, that if I see that newly-fucked glow on her face, I'm just gonna lie down and die. And I know what she looks like after she's been fucked… Been on that side of the fence too many times already, thank you very much. But, and I know I'm such a sucker, I also know that I want to see her anyway. What a glutton for punishment, huh?
My phone goes off again.
-Booth? Diner? T.
Well, what the fuck is a guy supposed to do? Really?
-See U in 30. B.
I am a sucker.
I enter the Diner and all the familiar scents hit me at once, and I realize that I'm starving. Well, guess a lot of booze and no breakfast will do that too ya. I head straight to our table, and motion to our waitress to bring me the usual. I'm probably being rude not waiting for her, but I think I need some food in me before I face the face of Temptress Brennan. I manage to inhale half a cup of coffee and one bite of pie, before… You know, I sense her before I actually know she's there? Ridiculous, I know, but as I raise my head I see her opening the door. Her eyes find mine and… She's smiling. Smiling. And not that smug, saucy grin that tells me she's gotten laid, but a genuine, happy kind of… Sweet smile. She takes her seat in front of me, grabs the spoon on my plate and enjoys a piece of my pie, closing her eyes while she's at it, mind you, before she opens them again.
"Hi Booth." She snakes the tip of her pink tongue out and quickly swipes it over her lower lip. "Mm, great pie." That there, that little moan of pleasure? That is what going to kill me one of these days. My blood, which should be put to much better use in my brain, decides to rush straight down to my groin, and I'm incapable of producing even a greeting in response. I just stare at her. She's perfect.
"Rough weekend, Booth? She asks me as her blue eyes pierce me, and I'm sure she can read all of my secrets with those eyes. A little wrinkle furrows between her brows as she studies me. "You look tired."
"Yeah." I manage to form one syllable at least, progress.
She cocks her head slightly, as if she's been having an internal debate and now has decided on a course of action. She looks a bit nervous, too.
"I want to tell you something, Booth."
Oh shit, here it comes, I figure. She's gonna go all Brennan on me, all logical and rational and tell me, up front, that she's started dating again. I brace myself for the impact and pray that I won't say anything stupid, like how much I love her and want her to be mine, and I'm so occupied in my own head, I miss the words I see forming on her lips.
"There was no date. Friday? There was no date, Booth."
Wait, what? What's she talking about? I try to shake my head a bit to clear my thoughts, not a good idea, I realize as my hangover pointedly assures me of its presence. "Bones?" I might sound a tad bit whiny, but give a guy a break, will ya?
"I had to… Be away from you, for a while. To think."
I'm none the wiser at this point, but I try to look like I know what she's talking about. I realize I failed, because she gives me a pointed look.
"I have a hypothesis. And like all hypotheses, it has to be tested, Booth." Again, the piercing eyes. She gives nothing away.
"Ok, Bones?" I'm not sure of what she's after. Suddenly, she gets up and takes me by the hand. I barely have time to throw a couple of bills on the table before the drags me out of the Diner, and across the street where she's parked her car. She motions for me to get in and strides purposefully to the other side to drive. "Where are we going?" I ask, as she starts the car a takes off.
"My place. Use your phone to call the office, tell them you'll be with me on assignment for the rest of the day." I do as she says, too surprised to even ask her why. She remains silent until we reach her apartment. She unlocks the door and pushes it open. "Get inside, Booth."
I'm getting a little apprehensive about now, but since this is Bones, I'm used to certain quirks on her behalf. She's a squint, after all. She closes the door after we're both inside, leans against it and closes her eyes for two seconds. When she opens them, they're almost predatory.
"I have to test this, Booth" she says softly as she approaches me. She stands. She lifts one of her delicate little hands and places it over my heart. I can feel her warmth through the fabric of my shirt. She slowly lifts her other hand, and entangles her fingers in my tie, and slowly drags my face toward her.
When she slants her moth over mine, I feel like I'm being electrocuted, but in a good way. A hell of a good way. She tastes amazing, even better than I remember, and her lips and tongue are so soft. I can't help but cup her face in my hands and deepen the kiss even more. It's pure magic.
She's panting as she breaks the kiss off, and she rests her forehead against mine with her eyes closed. Her lips are swollen from our kiss and she licks them as if to taste them.
"I need more data, Booth, but I think it's safe to say that my hypothesis is proven now."
Well, who am I to stand in the way of science? I'll provide her with any data she needs.
R&R and make my day!