(no subject)
Happy Holidays raaby_lilly! Here's your gift fic -- a bit of Booth/Brennan fluff. Somehow when I write for you, I always end up experimenting, haha. So! This is quite short, and I feel bad about that. I'll probably write you something a little longer, or make you some icons or something, to supplement. :P
Title: Things Set Straight
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Booth/Brennan
Spoilers/Warnings: None really! This could have happened at any time. Know that Booth and Bones are friends, and you're pretty much good to go.
Summary: Booth, Bones, and a trip to the beach (to feed the seagulls, naturally).
Notes: Like I said, trying something new here. I couldn't really tell you why, or where I was going with it, but I don't mind how it turned out. I hope you don't either, raaby_lilly. Your posts always make me grin -- I love your enthusiasm and your...I don't know. Inclusiveness? You're just very open with your enthusiasm and I love it. :D
They go to the beach because Booth wants to feed the seagulls.
It's a gray day, but the clouds seem far away, too high in the sky to be of any real concern. She slathers on sunscreen anyway, busily explaining to Booth the various properties of ultraviolet rays that make protecting against them necessary even on cloudy days. Booth makes good-natured fun of her the entire way for having a white spot on her nose, but when they get to the beach he wordlessly applies his own sunscreen before he slides out of the car, carrying a bag of white bread.
He waits at her door, and when she emerges, her eyes scanning expanse of sand in front of them, he takes his thumb and smears the excess sunscreen across the bridge of her nose.
There we go Bones, he says, now your entire nose is safe. No, no, don't thank me. I'd do the same for any civilian. Serve and protect.
Isn't that a police motto? She asks. He laughs and sets off for the sand.
The ocean is slate gray today, and when she takes in the dark sand and the bluffs that rise, staggering, further down the beach, she thinks maybe this is a scene that demands rain. It startles her for an instant, this personification of a beach of all things- it is hardly typical of her. But Booth is tugging at her wrist (come on, Bones, let's go, we'll check out that driftwood, look) and she lets herself drift contentedly along next to him.
I thought we were here to feed the seagulls, Booth, she says, but she lets him show her the sea-warped log, lets him call it "cool-lookin'" and doesn't even say anything. He shoots her a little half-smile that tells her he knows what he just got away with.
She doesn't really mind.
The day warms steadily as they move down the beach, and there are a lot of things to not mind (sand in her shoes, sand gathering in the cuffs of her pants, and the general unattractiveness of seagulls). Booth keeps smiling at her, a little sideways.
What're you thinking about Bones, he asks, and she finds herself giving him a sideways smile of her own. Oh, nothing, she says, and they keep walking.
Title: Things Set Straight
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Booth/Brennan
Spoilers/Warnings: None really! This could have happened at any time. Know that Booth and Bones are friends, and you're pretty much good to go.
Summary: Booth, Bones, and a trip to the beach (to feed the seagulls, naturally).
Notes: Like I said, trying something new here. I couldn't really tell you why, or where I was going with it, but I don't mind how it turned out. I hope you don't either, raaby_lilly. Your posts always make me grin -- I love your enthusiasm and your...I don't know. Inclusiveness? You're just very open with your enthusiasm and I love it. :D
They go to the beach because Booth wants to feed the seagulls.
It's a gray day, but the clouds seem far away, too high in the sky to be of any real concern. She slathers on sunscreen anyway, busily explaining to Booth the various properties of ultraviolet rays that make protecting against them necessary even on cloudy days. Booth makes good-natured fun of her the entire way for having a white spot on her nose, but when they get to the beach he wordlessly applies his own sunscreen before he slides out of the car, carrying a bag of white bread.
He waits at her door, and when she emerges, her eyes scanning expanse of sand in front of them, he takes his thumb and smears the excess sunscreen across the bridge of her nose.
There we go Bones, he says, now your entire nose is safe. No, no, don't thank me. I'd do the same for any civilian. Serve and protect.
Isn't that a police motto? She asks. He laughs and sets off for the sand.
The ocean is slate gray today, and when she takes in the dark sand and the bluffs that rise, staggering, further down the beach, she thinks maybe this is a scene that demands rain. It startles her for an instant, this personification of a beach of all things- it is hardly typical of her. But Booth is tugging at her wrist (come on, Bones, let's go, we'll check out that driftwood, look) and she lets herself drift contentedly along next to him.
I thought we were here to feed the seagulls, Booth, she says, but she lets him show her the sea-warped log, lets him call it "cool-lookin'" and doesn't even say anything. He shoots her a little half-smile that tells her he knows what he just got away with.
She doesn't really mind.
The day warms steadily as they move down the beach, and there are a lot of things to not mind (sand in her shoes, sand gathering in the cuffs of her pants, and the general unattractiveness of seagulls). Booth keeps smiling at her, a little sideways.
What're you thinking about Bones, he asks, and she finds herself giving him a sideways smile of her own. Oh, nothing, she says, and they keep walking.