Dec. 6 and Dec. 7 Fics
Sorry for the delay-I pretty much just wanted my bed yesterday.
Dec. 6-musesinspire- Bones/SPN, Bones/Bobby (gen), adultery, small town, clock
"I never believed in monogamy," Brennan said, loading the silver bullets into the old pistol. "It made sense to me biologically that you would want to sleep with as many people as possible, so as to increase your chances of procreation."
"Changed your mind, though?" Bobby stated, gesturing with his head at the little girl running around the barbed-wire-enclosed yard.
"It doesn't make any logical sense to have children anymore," Brennan said, a wistfulness to her voice that Bobby had never heard before.
"Time's running out," Bobby admitted, gazing at what had been their small town, the last refuge. Now just their ranch was left, and the barbed wire blessed with holy water and angel sigils.
"I never believed in any of this," Brennan whispered, her gaze taking in everything around her.
Bobby sighed, his gaze on the pile of guns and bullets at their feet. "I wish you didn't have to believe."
Dec. 7-siehn-Steve/Danny, the old ghosts never fade away
Sometimes Steve will reach for Danny in the night, clutching at him as if terrified that Danny will disappear, to New Jersey, to Rachel's arms, to the other side of a glass window while Steve is led back to his prison cell.
And sometimes Danny will grab Steve, need to run his hands over Steve's chest, stomach, feet, reassure himself there are no bruises or cuts left, kiss over the scars Wo Fat and another time and place have left.
But more often than not, more and more now, Steve will snuggle into Danny's side, making a noise Danny will tease him sounds exactly like purring, and Danny will curl his head onto Steve's chest, body limp and languid and relaxed, and they will kiss like they have all the time in the world, and sleep like there is a tomorrow.
Dec. 6-musesinspire- Bones/SPN, Bones/Bobby (gen), adultery, small town, clock
"I never believed in monogamy," Brennan said, loading the silver bullets into the old pistol. "It made sense to me biologically that you would want to sleep with as many people as possible, so as to increase your chances of procreation."
"Changed your mind, though?" Bobby stated, gesturing with his head at the little girl running around the barbed-wire-enclosed yard.
"It doesn't make any logical sense to have children anymore," Brennan said, a wistfulness to her voice that Bobby had never heard before.
"Time's running out," Bobby admitted, gazing at what had been their small town, the last refuge. Now just their ranch was left, and the barbed wire blessed with holy water and angel sigils.
"I never believed in any of this," Brennan whispered, her gaze taking in everything around her.
Bobby sighed, his gaze on the pile of guns and bullets at their feet. "I wish you didn't have to believe."
Dec. 7-siehn-Steve/Danny, the old ghosts never fade away
Sometimes Steve will reach for Danny in the night, clutching at him as if terrified that Danny will disappear, to New Jersey, to Rachel's arms, to the other side of a glass window while Steve is led back to his prison cell.
And sometimes Danny will grab Steve, need to run his hands over Steve's chest, stomach, feet, reassure himself there are no bruises or cuts left, kiss over the scars Wo Fat and another time and place have left.
But more often than not, more and more now, Steve will snuggle into Danny's side, making a noise Danny will tease him sounds exactly like purring, and Danny will curl his head onto Steve's chest, body limp and languid and relaxed, and they will kiss like they have all the time in the world, and sleep like there is a tomorrow.