Lliaaame prompt: The prompt is printed at the end of this story. If you don't want to spoil the surprise then wait until you've read this chapter to see what the prompt was.
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I don't own Bones.
Angela was bored, really bored. She'd painted, sculpted, chiseled, woven and molded and still her artist's soul cried for more. She was so very, very bored.
Sitting in her office Angela was dabbing a little paint on her canvas trying to come up with something inspiring to paint when she saw Booth walk by her door. Feeling like a cartoon character with a light bulb brightly lit hanging over her head, Angela jumped up from her stool and ran out into the hallway.
Turning, Booth smiled, "Yeah?"
Smiling back, Angela walked over to where Booth was standing and grabbed his arm, "Booth, I'm desperate. I need someone to paint. You have to help me out."
Shaking his head, Booth replied, "No way. I'm not a model."
Pleading, Angela tried to drag Booth into her office, "Please Booth. I want to paint something and I want to paint you. Please, please, please. Brennan is in a meeting and she won't be back for at least another hour."
Sighing, Booth reluctantly walked with Angela to her office, "Alright, I guess I can let you look at me for awhile."
Happy, Angela replied, "Ok, take your clothes off."
Shocked, Booth's eyes widened, "You're crazy as Hell if you think I'm going to poise for you naked."
Shrugging her shoulders, Angela sighed, "Well, it was worth a try. Ok, it's too bad you aren't wearing your suit; but, I guess jeans and a t-shirt are ok."
Crossing his arms, Booth replied, "I'm not taking my clothes off."
Laughing Angela soothed, "Ok, don't worry about it. I just need to adjust your look a little and we'll be set."
Suspicious, Booth asked, "Adjust what?"
Walking over to where Booth was standing, Angela reached down and unzipped Booth's pants and then slid his pants down his hips so that his underwear was showing.
Booth, grabbing his pants, pulled them back up and zipped them again, "Hey, are you nuts? You can't just do something like that."
Pouting, Angela threw her arms up, "God Booth, I just want to see some of your underwear. I'm not going to paint you nude."
Huffing, Booth glared at Angela, "God, someone gives you an inch and you take the ruler . . . . just some of my underwear Angela . . . maybe two inches."
Beaming, Angela replied, "Thank you. A little is all I want."
Blushing furiously, Booth unzipped his pants and pushed his jeans partially down his hips so that his Captain America underwear was exposed. "One sarcastic remark from you and I'm out of here."
Shrugging her shoulders, Angela sat down on her stool and started to paint. Gazing at Booth's blushing face, Angela put brush to canvas and painted fast. She knew Booth was fast losing his courage for her art project.
Booth staring over Angela's shoulders, kept his arms folded across his chest and waited for her to finish. Hearing the paint brush swish against the canvas, Booth became lost in thought.
Angela had almost finished painting her painting when Hodgins strolled in. Anger flashing across his face, Hodgins strode over to the painting and saw Booth's Captain America boxers more exposed in the painting than on the man. Furious, Hodgins grabbed the painting and swung it against the desk, tearing the canvas.
Angela, realizing that there was big trouble in the room, watched Hodgins stalk over to where Booth was standing and throw his fist at him. Booth, laughing, grabbed his fist before it landed and twisted Hodgins arm forcing Hodgins to his knees.
"Listen Hodgins, I could tear that off if I wanted to. This was Angela's idea not mine."
Pushing Hodgins away from him, Booth reached down and pulled his jeans up. Zipping them, Booth turned to Angela, "I knew this was a bad idea."
Turning, Booth walked towards the doorway. Hodgins, angry beyond the pale, ran after Booth and tried to hit him. Booth turning at the last minute, sidestepped Hodgins and let Hodgins sail through the doorway.
Turning to Angela, Booth advised, "Get him under control Angela or I will."
Angela running over to where Hodgins was now lying on the floor, put her hands on her husband and begged, "Jack, I was just painting Booth. We weren't having sex or anything."
Booth shaking his head, stood over Angela and Hodgins, "Are you insane. I'm with Bones now. If I was ever stupid enough to fool around on her I might as well sign my own death certificate. I'd be a dead man. Get a grip. Besides, you know I love Bones and I'm not interested in anyone else."
Hodgin considering what Booth told him, looked up at the big man, "You got a point."
Smiling, Booth looked at Hodgins and then Angela, "I'll let you in on a secret, I'm really Superman pretending to be Captain America pretending to be Seeley Booth."
Shaking her head, Angela asked, "What are you talking about?"
Shrugging his shoulders, Booth confided, "Bones is my kryptonite; but, don't tell her that. The red kind not the green kind. It's a secret. She's changed me; but, I love her and I don't care."
Waking up confused, Angela turned and looked at a sleeping Hodgins. Realizing that it had all been a dream, Angela fell back onto her pillow. Glancing at Hodgins, Angela swore that she would never tell anyone about that dream, no one, ever. If Brennan found out she was dreaming about Booth, Brennan would take it one of two ways and neither would probably be good. Certainly Hodgins wouldn't take it well. Nope, mums the word. Closing her eyes, Angela tried to get back into that dream, only this time, she hoped her husband minded his own business.
Lliaaame prompt: Angela has a dream about Booth coming to work in his boxers.
Her prompt was for Super Hero; but, since this is a dream, I felt it belonged in my dream series of stories.
Ok, I didn't do the prompt exactly the way she wanted it; but, this is what I came up with. It's an odd story; but, hey, it's supposed to be a dream.
A/N: Red Kryptonite had the power to alter Superman. In the comic books it only lasts 24 hours. Since this a dream the 24 hour limitation doesn't count. (I obviously don't own DC Comics or Superman)