Proof, In The Form Of Heartbeats (1/1) - A Bones Fic.
Title: Proof, In The Form Of Heartbeats.
Author: billpickle
Rating: pg
Pairing: Booth and Brennan. But do I really need to tell you that?
Word Count: 1,591.
Spoilers: Mostly 5x19's The Rocker in the Rinse Cycle. There's a couple of other S5 references mixed in there too, though.
Disclaimer: Nope. Show still isn't mine.
Summary: It's one of those rainy Friday nights that they sometimes get and as much as everyone around them doesn't seem to enjoy them, he does. He likes the sound raindrops tend to make when they collide with rooftops or pavement; loves how the mere sound of that contact reminds him of lips, full and soft-- of I just feel like... um... this is going somewhere.
It's been three and a half days since their song; since he learned that Bones could play a mean guitar and that she thought he was a really good singer. (Which he isn't. Clearly. But that doesn't mean he isn't completely smitten with her for saying it anyway.)
It's one of those rainy Friday nights that they sometimes get and as much as everyone around them doesn't seem to enjoy them, he does. He likes the sound raindrops tend to make when they collide with rooftops or pavement; loves how the mere sound of that contact reminds him of lips, full and soft-- of I just feel like... um... this is going somewhere.
He feels a soft tap on his shoulder.
“Booth, you okay?”
He meets her eyes, nods, “Yeah, Bones. Never been better.” and smiles. He's been doing that a lot more lately. The smiling. And he doesn't need to look into it much to know that it has everything to do with the fact that it's a Friday night and that on said Friday night, she's here with him and nobody else.
Even if they are just partners, he doesn't give a damn. Not really. It feels as if, here with him instead of somewhere with somebody else, means something. And it more than likely does, he's sure. Regardless, she probably has no idea that she's saying a million plus things to him without even trying to say one.
Our partnership is still important to me.
It's her words that he thinks about when he's downed three quarters of his second beer and it's her words that he thinks about when he decides to let his defences come down completely; let words flow a little more freely off his tongue.
“I'm not seeing Catherine anymore.”
They look at each for a long moment and he can see the wheels turning inside her head. She's probably thinking of things like standards, a tie with little dolphins, and mixed tapes.
Well... he is, anyway.
“Bones?”
When he looks at her this time, there's this unreadable expression on her features and he doesn't know what to make of it just yet. He hates this-- this whole unable to read Bones like he used to thing. And he just... he would, very much, like to have the ability back.
Damn, brain tumour.
“Why? It was quite obvious that she found you attractive. I thought you liked her.”
“I did...” He's stammering now. “I mean... she was nice and all, but...” He shifts in his seat awkwardly and all of a sudden, everything feels a whole lot warmer than it did minutes ago. “It's just, you know... she's not...”
“A good kisser?”
“What? No, Bones! I mean... I wouldn't know, it's not like we ever...” He's digging himself into a deeper hole by the second, so the better part of his judgement decides it's probably for the best, to stop it all right there. “She just... she wasn't...”
“She wasn't what, Booth?”
“You.”
It slips out. Just like that.
His eyes flicker away from hers, the empty plate in front of him suddenly becoming a whole lot more interesting. “She just... I couldn't stop thinking that she wasn't you.”
“Booth.”
And just the way she says his name. It turns him inside out; makes him feel things, Catherine could never make him feel in a million years. If only he could tell her that; if only she understood what something like that actually meant. Things would be so much easier...
But then again.
She's wouldn't be his contradictory, impossibly infuriating, mind-boggling yet completely endearing, Bones. And, even if he could, he knows he wouldn't have her any other way.
“Please don't do this.”
His eyes fall back on hers, “Please don't do what, Bones?” and his voice becomes gravelly, pleading with her to help him understand what's going on inside that brilliant brain of hers. The one that never fails to drives him nuts.
“This, Booth.” She gestures frantically, with her hands, into the space between them. “I'm just going to hurt you. Even more than I already have. And I... I can't stand when I do that, Booth. I just... I can't.”
He quickly grabs her hand; thumbs brushing over the tender skin of her knuckles. There's no way she's getting out of this one now. Not when she's got the beginnings of tears in her eyes and his heart is swelling, second by second, inside his chest.
“Don't-”
“Then talk to me, Bones. Tell me what's on your mind because God knows I've been trying to understand what you're thinking. Trying to put a reason to why you're so insistent on fighting me. Fighting us. I'm never going to leave you, Bones. How do you not get that?”
She just looks at him with that sad, faraway, sort of little innocent girl look that she gets sometimes. “Things change. People change their minds all the time... you can't possibly know how you'll feel about me... if you'll always feel the same.”
“But I do know, Bones, I just... I do. Isn't that enough?” His hand finds its way up to her arm and he can feel the muscles grow tense under his touch. “Come on. Can't you just trust me on this one? Trust that I won't let myself mess this up?”
She shakes her head half-heartedly. “This isn't an issue of me trusting you, Booth.”
“Then what is it, Bones? Because you're not normally one to talk in riddles, but right now? I can't figure out, for the life of me, what it is that you're trying to say.”
He can see her take a deep breath, like the words she's about to say are going to take something out of her. “Sweets... he showed me your brain scans. The one before the surgery and the one after... after I read my book to you...”
He can't help but let his eyes fall to her stomach; imagine what it'd be like if that other world was real. “The one where you were having my baby.” He says.
She nods.
And that's when it hits him.
“Oh, Bones. You couldn't be more wrong.”
So what happens after... well, it's only natural isn't it?
That he kisses her seconds later and that the bitter tastes of their beers mix together to create this sensation on their taste buds, unlike anything before. Or that he admits to her that this is the one thing he's been wanting to do ever since that first one in the rain.
Her forehead is still pressed against his when she pulls away and he allows himself a breath or two before reaching for her with his lips, yet again.
She's like everything he remembered her being, yet somehow something so much more as well. And when they break apart for air again, he's left feeling dizzy and a little light-headed.
“Wow.” She says a little breathlessly before smiling at him with that totally Bones smile of hers.
He grins. “Yeah, Bones. Wow.”
*
It's later that night (or early the next morning, he can't be quite sure) when he wakes up to a snoring Bones in his ear.
It's a cute little snore really, the kind that's enough to make him laugh. The subtle vibrations that his body makes, pressed up against hers, gently stirring her awake.
He tugs her closer when he feels her move; tickles her ankle with his toes.
“Mmm. This is nice.”
“Yeah.”
His hand's tracing patterns on the soft skin at her back now and the only sounds that fill the room is their slightly laboured breathing. He kisses the top of her head; breathes in the scent of her, just because he can.
“I thought I was doing the right thing.” She mumbles suddenly, her hand mindlessly stroking his bicep; her eyes seemingly anywhere but on his.
“What are you talking about, Bones?”
“Andrew.” His hand on her back, stills. “I thought I was... I thought it would make it easier for you to move on if I...”
“Hey.”
Her eyes flicker up, meeting his and he smiles. “I wasn't trying to hurt you, you know.”
“I know.”
She kisses him then and he takes the opportunity to hold her hand; pull it to him and press it to his chest. The skin on skin contact isn't something new to them anymore yet it still feels entirely new.
“Do you feel that?”
She nods. “That's your heart.”
“Yeah,” He chuckles. “but it's also... proof.”
She tilts her head; looks at him oddly. “Proof?”
“Yeah, Bones. It's proof that as long as you can feel that? As long as it's beating? You're going to have me. Any and every way you want.”
He kisses her again, before sitting up and adjusting the comforters around them. And when he settles back down, she curls into his solid frame; lets her hand fall to that same spot.
“Bones?”
“You're still here.”
He smiles; wraps his arms around her. “Yeah. I'm still here.”
And this time, when he closes his eyes and his body starts to succumb to exhaustion, he covers the hand she has over his heart; lets her get used to its steady cadence.
FIN.
Author: billpickle
Rating: pg
Pairing: Booth and Brennan. But do I really need to tell you that?
Word Count: 1,591.
Spoilers: Mostly 5x19's The Rocker in the Rinse Cycle. There's a couple of other S5 references mixed in there too, though.
Disclaimer: Nope. Show still isn't mine.
Summary: It's one of those rainy Friday nights that they sometimes get and as much as everyone around them doesn't seem to enjoy them, he does. He likes the sound raindrops tend to make when they collide with rooftops or pavement; loves how the mere sound of that contact reminds him of lips, full and soft-- of I just feel like... um... this is going somewhere.
It's been three and a half days since their song; since he learned that Bones could play a mean guitar and that she thought he was a really good singer. (Which he isn't. Clearly. But that doesn't mean he isn't completely smitten with her for saying it anyway.)
It's one of those rainy Friday nights that they sometimes get and as much as everyone around them doesn't seem to enjoy them, he does. He likes the sound raindrops tend to make when they collide with rooftops or pavement; loves how the mere sound of that contact reminds him of lips, full and soft-- of I just feel like... um... this is going somewhere.
He feels a soft tap on his shoulder.
“Booth, you okay?”
He meets her eyes, nods, “Yeah, Bones. Never been better.” and smiles. He's been doing that a lot more lately. The smiling. And he doesn't need to look into it much to know that it has everything to do with the fact that it's a Friday night and that on said Friday night, she's here with him and nobody else.
Even if they are just partners, he doesn't give a damn. Not really. It feels as if, here with him instead of somewhere with somebody else, means something. And it more than likely does, he's sure. Regardless, she probably has no idea that she's saying a million plus things to him without even trying to say one.
Our partnership is still important to me.
It's her words that he thinks about when he's downed three quarters of his second beer and it's her words that he thinks about when he decides to let his defences come down completely; let words flow a little more freely off his tongue.
“I'm not seeing Catherine anymore.”
They look at each for a long moment and he can see the wheels turning inside her head. She's probably thinking of things like standards, a tie with little dolphins, and mixed tapes.
Well... he is, anyway.
“Bones?”
When he looks at her this time, there's this unreadable expression on her features and he doesn't know what to make of it just yet. He hates this-- this whole unable to read Bones like he used to thing. And he just... he would, very much, like to have the ability back.
Damn, brain tumour.
“Why? It was quite obvious that she found you attractive. I thought you liked her.”
“I did...” He's stammering now. “I mean... she was nice and all, but...” He shifts in his seat awkwardly and all of a sudden, everything feels a whole lot warmer than it did minutes ago. “It's just, you know... she's not...”
“A good kisser?”
“What? No, Bones! I mean... I wouldn't know, it's not like we ever...” He's digging himself into a deeper hole by the second, so the better part of his judgement decides it's probably for the best, to stop it all right there. “She just... she wasn't...”
“She wasn't what, Booth?”
“You.”
It slips out. Just like that.
His eyes flicker away from hers, the empty plate in front of him suddenly becoming a whole lot more interesting. “She just... I couldn't stop thinking that she wasn't you.”
“Booth.”
And just the way she says his name. It turns him inside out; makes him feel things, Catherine could never make him feel in a million years. If only he could tell her that; if only she understood what something like that actually meant. Things would be so much easier...
But then again.
She's wouldn't be his contradictory, impossibly infuriating, mind-boggling yet completely endearing, Bones. And, even if he could, he knows he wouldn't have her any other way.
“Please don't do this.”
His eyes fall back on hers, “Please don't do what, Bones?” and his voice becomes gravelly, pleading with her to help him understand what's going on inside that brilliant brain of hers. The one that never fails to drives him nuts.
“This, Booth.” She gestures frantically, with her hands, into the space between them. “I'm just going to hurt you. Even more than I already have. And I... I can't stand when I do that, Booth. I just... I can't.”
He quickly grabs her hand; thumbs brushing over the tender skin of her knuckles. There's no way she's getting out of this one now. Not when she's got the beginnings of tears in her eyes and his heart is swelling, second by second, inside his chest.
“Don't-”
“Then talk to me, Bones. Tell me what's on your mind because God knows I've been trying to understand what you're thinking. Trying to put a reason to why you're so insistent on fighting me. Fighting us. I'm never going to leave you, Bones. How do you not get that?”
She just looks at him with that sad, faraway, sort of little innocent girl look that she gets sometimes. “Things change. People change their minds all the time... you can't possibly know how you'll feel about me... if you'll always feel the same.”
“But I do know, Bones, I just... I do. Isn't that enough?” His hand finds its way up to her arm and he can feel the muscles grow tense under his touch. “Come on. Can't you just trust me on this one? Trust that I won't let myself mess this up?”
She shakes her head half-heartedly. “This isn't an issue of me trusting you, Booth.”
“Then what is it, Bones? Because you're not normally one to talk in riddles, but right now? I can't figure out, for the life of me, what it is that you're trying to say.”
He can see her take a deep breath, like the words she's about to say are going to take something out of her. “Sweets... he showed me your brain scans. The one before the surgery and the one after... after I read my book to you...”
He can't help but let his eyes fall to her stomach; imagine what it'd be like if that other world was real. “The one where you were having my baby.” He says.
She nods.
And that's when it hits him.
“Oh, Bones. You couldn't be more wrong.”
So what happens after... well, it's only natural isn't it?
That he kisses her seconds later and that the bitter tastes of their beers mix together to create this sensation on their taste buds, unlike anything before. Or that he admits to her that this is the one thing he's been wanting to do ever since that first one in the rain.
Her forehead is still pressed against his when she pulls away and he allows himself a breath or two before reaching for her with his lips, yet again.
She's like everything he remembered her being, yet somehow something so much more as well. And when they break apart for air again, he's left feeling dizzy and a little light-headed.
“Wow.” She says a little breathlessly before smiling at him with that totally Bones smile of hers.
He grins. “Yeah, Bones. Wow.”
*
It's later that night (or early the next morning, he can't be quite sure) when he wakes up to a snoring Bones in his ear.
It's a cute little snore really, the kind that's enough to make him laugh. The subtle vibrations that his body makes, pressed up against hers, gently stirring her awake.
He tugs her closer when he feels her move; tickles her ankle with his toes.
“Mmm. This is nice.”
“Yeah.”
His hand's tracing patterns on the soft skin at her back now and the only sounds that fill the room is their slightly laboured breathing. He kisses the top of her head; breathes in the scent of her, just because he can.
“I thought I was doing the right thing.” She mumbles suddenly, her hand mindlessly stroking his bicep; her eyes seemingly anywhere but on his.
“What are you talking about, Bones?”
“Andrew.” His hand on her back, stills. “I thought I was... I thought it would make it easier for you to move on if I...”
“Hey.”
Her eyes flicker up, meeting his and he smiles. “I wasn't trying to hurt you, you know.”
“I know.”
She kisses him then and he takes the opportunity to hold her hand; pull it to him and press it to his chest. The skin on skin contact isn't something new to them anymore yet it still feels entirely new.
“Do you feel that?”
She nods. “That's your heart.”
“Yeah,” He chuckles. “but it's also... proof.”
She tilts her head; looks at him oddly. “Proof?”
“Yeah, Bones. It's proof that as long as you can feel that? As long as it's beating? You're going to have me. Any and every way you want.”
He kisses her again, before sitting up and adjusting the comforters around them. And when he settles back down, she curls into his solid frame; lets her hand fall to that same spot.
“Bones?”
“You're still here.”
He smiles; wraps his arms around her. “Yeah. I'm still here.”
And this time, when he closes his eyes and his body starts to succumb to exhaustion, he covers the hand she has over his heart; lets her get used to its steady cadence.
FIN.