Bystander


By: dharmamonkey
Rated: M
Disclaimer: Hart Hanson owns Bones. But people like me who play in his sandbox give you all those little moments that Hart and friends leave out.


A/N: Set a week or so before the beginning of the Season 2 episode, "Truth in the Lye." What follows is AU—my theory on what might have happened if Brennan walked in on Booth and his ex Rebecca sharing a moment and decided to be more forward about things than she was at the end of "Truth in the Lye."


The whole situation was just weird. Not bad, mind you, just...weird.

It was only three weeks after Rebecca came charging into the bullpen calling me a son of a bitch for doing a little checking into the background of her newest boyfriend, Drew. She was furious at me for what she considered an invasion of her privacy—never mind the fact that this guy Drew was spending more time around my son than I did and I didn't know who the hell he was. "You need to back off," she said to me, "or you're not gonna see Parker again, I swear." I wanted to kill her, you know, for threatening to keep me away from my son, but it was one of those times that I was so angry, I couldn't even move. I just stared at her and I could feel my temples ache as my jaw shifted forward, but I was so angry, I couldn't even talk. She looked at me with those blue eyes of hers and hissed, "Back off," then stormed out as I watched her disappear down the hall.

After the four of us—me, Parker, her and Drew—met at the diner and then later went out for dinner at the pizzeria down the road from Rebecca's condo, things had thawed a little between us and neither of us said anything about what had gone down in my office three weeks earlier. Meanwhile, something obviously happened between her and Drew. Exactly what, I'm still not really sure, but she came to see me again at work and the second she walked into my office, I felt a really weird vibe radiating off of her.

"Rebecca," I said as I stood up from my desk. "I thought we talked about this—you can't just keep coming here to the Hoover like this, you know. You should've called, and we'd find a time to meet, you know, someplace where—"

"Parker's school is taking the kids on a field trip," she explained, her voice wavering a little bit as she approached me. She held up a piece of paper and handed it to me. "There's a, uhhh, permission slip form that, uhh, they want the parents to sign and, since the field trip is next week, I just thought…"

Her voice trailed off and I looked down at the form. Parker's class was going to the National Museum of Natural History at the Jeffersonian, right there on the National Mall next to the building where the Medico-Legal Lab was. The school had taken Parker on field trips before and Rebecca had never, ever asked me to sign off on a permission slip of any kind. Usually I would find out about these things the night before when she called me to tell me that she would be late dropping Parker off at my place, or sometimes that I'd have to swap days because he had a school thing. I looked up at her and she had this odd expression on her face that I couldn't quite read, then I tossed the paper on my desk, cocked my head to the side and narrowed my eyes as I tried to figure out what kind of game she was playing with me.

"What's this really about?" I asked her as I scanned her face.

She reached up and tucked a strand of her wavy blond hair behind her ears in a demure little gesture I'd seen a thousand times and which I knew was a tell, a sign she was about to get flirty with me again.

We'd been doing this weird dance off and on for the last year. I hadn't dated anyone since I broke up with Tessa, and she'd had a couple of things with a couple of guys, the only one of whom wasn't a total creepazoid was this last guy Drew, who to be honest seemed like a pretty good guy—a divorced dad with a kid, who had a good job working as a construction foreman for an outfit that built office parks in the Washington/Baltimore/Philadelphia corridor.

When we did get together, the three times we'd done it in the last year—well, not counting that time she dropped in on me during a stakeout and ended up giving me a blowjob, and before I could consider reciprocating, the surveillance target left his apartment and, well, we had to call it a night—were really hookups more than anything serious. I liked her, and I was attracted to her still and, well, I'll admit it, the fact that I wasn't in a relationship and therefore was not getting laid probably had something to do with the fact that I didn't exactly push her away, but there was nothing there. We fucked, basically, and she blew me that one time, but that's it. There wasn't anything more to it—no substance, no feeling, no future—just sex and something else, I guess: a kind of twisted nostalgia that both of us knew was unhealthy but neither of us was willing to let go of yet.

It was a bad idea, even letting her stand there in my office, and I knew it. I knew I should have signed that stupid little permission slip—even though it was totally unnecessary, me being the non-custodial parent and all—and asked one of the guys in the bullpen to escort her out of the building and to her car, but as I looked at her stare back at me with those pouty pink lips of hers, all I could think about was the way those lips looked around my dick and I suddenly felt my skin get warm. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other as I felt that low, raw tugging sensation behind my belly button that told me I needed to get rid of her now or else I was going to embarrass myself if someone walked into my office and saw me with a party in my pants.

"Seeley," she said, her voice soft and milky as she raised her chin and licked her lips. "I just..." It was then that I'd noticed she'd come prepared with a low-cut, V-neck blouse made of some kind of sheer, stretchy material that hugged her every curve. "I wanted to apologize," she said, taking a step towards me as she reached out and placed her hand on my arm. "You know, about what happened a few weeks ago. I mean, we were both wrong, but I shouldn't have—"

"Rebecca," I said, pleading with her but not really sure for what. I could smell her perfume—Elizabeth Taylor's White Diamonds, the same stuff she'd been wearing for years—and felt a tingle at the base of my spine as I thought of all the pulse points and little places I knew she'd dabbed it on that morning. "Look, I—"

"Seeley," she whispered, raising her head to look up at me, her lips parting as she brought her other hand around to rest on my hip. She'd tilted her head to the side and lifted herself up on the balls of her feet and was about to kiss me when the door to my office opened with a creak.

"Booth, Hodgins just called and—"

I jerked my head away and took a step backwards as soon as I heard my partner's husky voice, moving so quickly that I banged the backs of my thighs against the hard edge of my desk.

"Ow," I squawked. "Bones, what are you doing here?"

Rebecca lowered her heels to the floor and exhaled an awkward sigh as she pushed her hair off of her forehead. She turned around and took one look at my partner—who was standing in my doorway with her hands on her hips, her mouth gaping in surprise but her eyebrows crinkled in obvious judgment—then turned back at me with raised eyebrows as if to ask, "What do we do now?"

"I, uhh," Bones began to answer as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. "I'm sorry—did I interrupt something?"

I opened my mouth to answer but Rebecca jumped in first. "No," she said hurriedly. "I was just, you know, leaving. With the permission slip. That I had to get Seeley to sign for Parker. For his school, you know. Parker's school, I mean." She turned around and scanned my desk for the paper she'd brought in with her. "See?" she said, picking it up and waving it in the air as she walked by Bones, pausing for a second in the doorway. "Alright, then, uhh—so, I'll drop Parker off at your place Friday at seven, okay?"

Reaching up to scratch the back of my head, I felt a sense of relief that the vague, ball-tightening sensation that had been tugging at me just seconds before was suddenly all but a distant memory. "Yeah, sure," I said. "Seven o'clock, Friday. See ya then."

Rebecca nodded and whisked out of my office, leaving me standing there with my partner staring at me with clear disapproval—or disappointment. I'm not sure which.

"What?" I said. "She just needed me to sign that permission slip for Parker. His school's taking him to the Jeffersonian next week, you know, to the Museum of Natural History and—"

Bones rolled her eyes and turned away, and for a second I really thought she was going to walk out. Instead, she shut the door to my office with a sharp clunk and quickly turned around to face me again.

"I didn't see your signature on the permission slip, Booth," she said to me, a faint twinge of laughter on the edge of her voice.

I swallowed hard, realizing that she was right. I knew that the permission slip was a pretext that Rebecca used to get Charlie or somebody else to sign her in downstairs at security. And from the look on Bones' face, I had a good idea that she knew it, too.

"Look," I said, pulling up my sleeve and glancing at my watch. "We don't have time to, uhhh…you know, we need to go talk to the victim's brother in Gaithersburg. We can grab lunch along the way, huh, Bones? I know a really great Greek diner in Kentlands that's terrific, and it's right on the way. They do great Greek salads, a really good pasta fagioli soup, huh? What do you say?"

She gave me a narrow-eyed look, then shook her head. "Fine," she grumbled. "Let's go." I should have seen it coming, by the tone of her voice and, more obviously, by the look on her face, and realized that she wasn't going to let the subject drop, but at the time, I just wanted to get the fuck out of the Hoover as soon as possible.

We had just climbed into the Tahoe—I hadn't even turned the key in the ignition yet—when Bones turned to me with a hard glare.

"What?" I said.

A couple of seconds of silence hung between us as she simply stared at me, then said, "You were going to kiss her."

"What? No!" I coughed, glancing up at the rear view mirror to see if anyone was watching us in the Hoover garage. "She..." The look on my partner's face at that moment could peel the paint off of walls. "She was going to kiss me...I was just, you know, standing there, and, umm—"

Bones rolled her eyes. "Ah, yes," she snorted. "A helpless bystander, is that what you were? Being preyed on by the sexual aggressions of your—"

"Now wait," I said, holding my hand up and cutting off whatever it is she was going to say. I turned the ignition switch to the battery on position, then sighed and turned it off completely as I decided that I needed to put this conversation to bed before I tried to battle lunch-hour traffic on the Beltway. "Rebecca and I were...well..." I realized that I was about to paint myself into a very awkward corner so I just stopped. I tried to buy myself a little bit of time while I struggled to think of how to explain away what she'd seen just minutes earlier. "Look, it's not what you think..."

"Oh, really?" she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Your face was flushed, Booth, and the tips of your ears were red. I could see your rate of respiration was above what I've observed to be your normal resting rate and..." Her gaze swiveled down towards my belt buckle and then back up again. "I saw your somewhat uncomfortable posture and somewhat awkward movements earlier and, given your natural athleticism, I can only imagine that your dexterity was compromised by an erection, so, naturally, it's logical to assume that—"

"Okay, stop," I said quickly. "Just stop. Like I said, it's not what you think..."

She rolled her eyes and sighed, "Oh, please, Booth..."

I leaned my head back against the headrest and groaned, closing my eyes and wondering which blessed saint would most favorably hear my prayer to end this conversation as quickly as humanly possible. "Come on, Bones," I sighed. "Do we really have to talk about this?"

"I thought you two were on bad terms," she said, raising her eyebrows and pursing her lips as she waited for my answer. "She'd threatened to deprive you of visitation, although I don't really think she has the right to do that, legally."

"We, uhh, well," I stammered, not really sure myself how Rebecca and I had gotten from the brink of World War III just three weeks earlier to her traipsing into my office and wanting to start making out. "We kinda worked it out, I guess," I said lamely. I thumbed the ignition but still didn't start the truck because my gut told me this conversation was not over yet.

"Is it that bad?" Bones asked me.

I turned my head and stared at her blankly. "What?" I had no idea what she was talking about.

"Are you that desperate and sexually frustrated that you have to seek release by engaging in coitus with a woman who is not above using your visitation rights as a bargaining chip in—"

"I'm not sleeping with Rebecca," I barked as I shifted uncomfortably in the driver's seat. Immediately regretting my harsh tone, I backpedaled a little. "I mean, not now. Not for a while, you know. We're not...involved like that anymore."

"Really?" Bones asked, her heavy-lidded expression clearly one of skepticism. "Then why did you appear very ready to let her kiss you, hmm? Because I didn't see you putting up much resistance back there, Booth."

"The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak," I mumbled under my breath. Exasperated by the third degree Bones was giving me, I turned in my seat to face her and leaned over the center console. "Okay, so I was gonna let her kiss me, alright? And the idea of getting kissed by a beautiful woman isn't exactly the most horrible thing in the world."

As soon as the words left my mouth, I felt the air crackle between us and time itself seemed to slow down. Or at least, that's the way it seems as I look back on it now.

No sooner had those words passed my lips when Bones suddenly turned and leaned over the console, reaching up with her hand to cup my jaw as she pressed her lips to mine. I felt her tongue skim across the space between my lips and I opened my mouth to her kiss. She tasted of coffee and sugar and cinnamon, and I felt a tingle of excitement surge through my limbs as her tongue glanced against mine and I moaned into her kiss. I felt her fingertips scrape over the stubble on my jaw—I hadn't shaved that morning and I silently cursed myself for it—as her mouth grasped at mine. Her kiss was hungry and possessive, and I felt myself start to get hard just kissing her. I felt myself falling head over heels into the kiss, and before I realized it, my hand flew up I felt my fingers threading through her hair as I pulled her into me, thumbing her cheek as I savored one last, grasping kiss before our lips parted, leaving us both gasping for breath.

"Gaithersburg?" she asked, panting as she leaned back a little in her seat. She looked gorgeous, her face beautifully flushed, her lips red and a little puffy from our kissing. Her eyes—those amazing, soul-swallowing eyes of hers that had been haunting my dreams for so many nights over the last two years—had darkened, and as she smiled back at me with a crooked grin, I was hopeful she wouldn't leave me standing in the rain like a fool the way she did the first time we'd kissed.

"Yeah," I rasped between sharp, sucking breaths. "A half-hour there, an hour to interview the brother, then..."

"My place," she blurted out, her chest still rising and falling with heavy breaths as she tried to collect herself. She narrowed her eyes, and I could hear the gears turning in her head as she looked up from where her gaze had settled—my lap—and flashed the hottest, most lascivious grin I think I've ever seen on a woman's face. "We can order Thai delivery..." She licked her lips suggestively and added, "Because eventually we'll get hungry."

I swallowed and wondered if we could finish the interview in Gaithersburg early enough to beat rush-hour traffic on the way back to Washington, because I knew that while I would manage to keep myself under control on the way there and during the interview, I was pretty sure I was going to be hard on the drive back to her Georgetown apartment, just anticipating the way she'd feel after that kiss.

That kiss…

"Drive-thru," I grunted as I turned the ignition and the Tahoe roared to life. I winced at the serious hard-on that was aching between my legs and glanced over at Bones, who looked back at me with an arched eyebrow at my non sequitur response. "For lunch," I clarified as I backed out of the parking space. "Because if we stop at that diner and I have to watch you put those lips around a fuckin' French fry," I explained, my voice dropping a half-octave at the thought of those lips wrapping around anything, "I don't think I'll be able to help myself, and I'm tellin' you now, our first time ain't gonna be in the bathroom of a roadside diner."

Her eyes widened a little at my sudden burst of bluntness. "Drive-thru," she agreed.

With that decided, I pulled out of the Hoover garage and, with a loud squeal of the tires, merged onto Pennsylvania Avenue.


A/N: What did you think of what one?

Please let me know what you thought of that and take a minute to review.

Seriously, getting reviews means I know people are reading this stuff. And knowing that people are reading makes me want to write more of it.

So please, leave a review. Even a teeny tiny quick one would be hella awesome. *pleading Boothy puppy dog eyes*