(no subject)
Title: Waking up to your reality (1/1)
Pairing: B/B
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: Just under 5000
Summary: Oneshot, set in season five. Brennan has had one date too many, and Booth snaps, giving her a damn good taste of her own medicine. Eventual B/B, would I really write anything else? Read through by the lovely luvvinbones.
It’s late, most people at the Jeffersonian already having left for the night. Predictably, Brennan remains one of the few still in the lab, although to her credit, she is beginning to pack up her things. She watches as Booth chats briefly to Cam outside Brennan’s office before trotting directly over to her open door. She straightens.
“Bones, I’m off, OK?” he informs her with a smile, before turning to leave. She calls him back.
“Booth?” He turns on his heel. “Wait, I’ll walk out with you.” Booth looks pleased by that.
“Can’t bear to part with me, is that it?” he asks, winking at her. She grins, unable to help herself.
“Yes - I mean, no...” She stops, looking confused. “I mean, I can bear to part with you, but I wanted to talk to you about something, if that’s OK.” Her eyes are earnest, and he nods.
“Sure. What’s on your mind?”
“A great number of things. I am a genius.”
“You got that right. But don’t take things so literally, Bones,” he adds, guiding her out of her office with his hand on her shoulder. She flips the light off as they leave. As they walk towards the exit a silence falls between them, but Booth knows that Brennan will get straight to the point when she’s ready, so he says nothing, allowing her to organise her thoughts.
“I’m going to have to cancel Thursday night,” she begins. Booth sighs. He has finally, after weeks of nagging, persuaded her to come ice skating with him for the first time since the hockey player was killed. He certainly enjoyed it enough last time (there was something strangely pleasant about holding Brennan’s hand while she slipped and squealed her way around the ice) and while he won’t voice this aloud, he’s been looking forward to it since she agreed. It almost feels like a date. Yeah, a date.
“I have a date, instead.”
Time stands still, somehow. Booth feels his insides vanish, and he stops suddenly, turning to face Brennan. She looks baffled, and suddenly his insides reappear, filled with hot anger. He can’t stand to watch her act so pathetically clueless, making out that she doesn’t know what the hell this thing is that’s going on. Because he’s pretty damn sure she does.
“You have a date.” His voice becomes dangerously low, and he sees Brennan’s eyes widen.
“Yes.”
“You’re cancelling on your best friend for someone you barely know? Exactly how many have there been in the past year, Bones?”
Brennan swallows, but stands her ground. “That’s not any of your business, Booth.”
“None of my business?” He almost knocks a nearby tray of instruments over in his frustration, gesturing wildly. Brennan suddenly looks terrified, and for once he finds he has very little sympathy. “You make it my business, Bones. Frankly I’m getting just a little bit sick and tired of you blundering around like a bull in a china shop, using rationality as an excuse for hurting everyone’s feelings.”
“Exactly whose feelings am I supposed to be hurting, Booth?” she replies, and suddenly she looks quite angry herself. They stare at each other mutinously for several moments.
“I’m not giving you a list, though bear in mind that it would be a damn long one.” Booth pauses, takes a breath. “It’s just...”
Brennan says nothing, simply continues to stare.
“Let me give you a reality check, Bones.” She opens her mouth as if to interrupt but he raises a hand to stop her. “You’re dating a lot of guys. You sleep with most of them, and you seem determined to give me details each and every time. You even bring some of them the Jeffersonian and I politely shake their hand, sometimes even making small talk. You insist on making your love life extremely public, especially to me.” Now that he’s started, it’s almost impossible to stop.
“Booth, I don’t see your point.” She still looks impatient, and that riles him still further.
“I know you, Bones. I know you damn well. And I know that you are not completely unaware of what’s going on.” A flicker of something crosses Brennan’s face, and she avoids his gaze suddenly. He uses his index finger to lift her head back to his.
“Me, Bones. It’s me you’re hurting,” he mutters, and a look of pure devastation spreads across Brennan’s face. “And I don’t know why you do it.”
It doesn’t seem as if she is going to speak. She simply continues to gaze at him, her expression full of horror. He suddenly can’t be there for another second, and turns away to storm through the exit, leaving Brennan standing stock still for at least five minutes before Cam comes to speak to her.
* * * * *
It’s two days later, and Booth enters the Jeffersonian. He’s slightly anxious, on edge - he and Brennan haven’t spoken once since their disagreement. He isn’t sure how to act around her, though he still absolutely sticks to his argument. As he scans his pass into the machine, he notices that everyone is already gathered on the forensic platform, clearly waiting for him. He jogs up the steps, giving everyone a general wave, before settling against a work surface to listen to Cam’s debriefing of the latest evidence found for the current case. He only understands half of it, so allows his mind to wander. He’s very much avoiding catching Brennan’s eye, but without warning she moves across to stand next to him and suddenly a warm hand slips into his. He jumps slightly, and finally turns to look her in the eye. Her expression makes his stomach clench. Her eyes look full of pain, as if she is going through an emotional turmoil. Suddenly he feels guilty for being so blunt the other day. He squeezes her hand and turns his attention back to Cam.
When it’s over, Booth hangs around a few minutes, fully expecting Brennan to ask to have a word with him, but to his surprise she simply gets back to work, acting as if he is nothing more than a plant placed in the corner. He grits his teeth. Fine. Still not ready to face up to anything. Then what he does next is her own doing.
* * * * *
Another two days have passed, fairly uneventfully. Once again Booth is entering the Jeffersonian, but he isn’t here for work this time. He heads straight to Brennan’s office without looking back. To his relief, she’s sitting at her computer, though she looks as if she’s faraway in her thoughts.
“Bones? I need a word.” She looks round, surprised. Without waiting for a response, he enters and plonks himself down on her couch.
“OK.” Brennan sounds hesitant, but she moves to sit alongside him on the couch; much further away than usual, Booth notices. He rubs a hand over his face, hating this entire thing.
“So, I met this woman, Megan,” he states matter-of-factly, and Brennan’s head turns towards him sharply. “She’s extremely attractive, funny and, you in particular will be interested to know, very intelligent.”
“She is?” Brennan’s voice is slightly more croaky than usual. She edges an inch further away from him and he spots it. He continues, regardless.
“Yeah. We went on a date last night, and she wants to see me again tonight.”
“And you’re telling me all this - why?” Brennan’s brisk tone makes an appearance again.
“We’re partners, Bones! We share things, remember. I’ll admit it’s been a while since I dated, but I feel ready again now. So you can be happy for me.” He hitches a smile on his face as he looks at her.
“I am. You’re an attractive single man, Booth, there’s no reason why you shouldn’t be dating.”
“No reason at all.”
“Exactly.”
A silence. Booth isn’t at all surprised by her lack of reaction, but this is just part one of the plan. He suddenly feels unpleasantly like Sweets, prodding and poking at people’s feelings, but quickly brushes that thought aside. This is the only option he has left, he reflects. Finding a way to shock Brennan into facing up to her own reality. Because he absolutely cannot put up with her dating meaningless guy after meaningless guy and shoving it in his face. Enough is enough.
Booth looks at Brennan now, and even though her expression remains impassive, her whole posture is rigid. Oh, he’s pretty sure he knows what she’s thinking, and he hates himself for putting her through it, but it is the only way.
“I’m off to get some lunch, you wanna come?” he asks, standing. Brennan shakes her head rather violently.
“No, thank you. I have work to do.”
“Fair enough. See you in a bit.” And with that he leaves, acting a lot more confident than he feels.
* * * * *
Just moments later, Angela notices Booth leaving and wanders over to Brennan’s office.
“Hey sweetie, you wanna come out for some lunch with Hodgins and me?”
Brennan smiles from her couch. “I’m fine Ange, I brought some sandwiches.” Her voice is outwardly calm, but Angela, knowing Brennan so well, instantly catches flatness in her tone.
“Bren?” She sits beside her and takes her hand. “Brennan. Look at me.” After a few seconds she does, and Angela gasps as she sees that Brennan’s eyes are full of unshed tears. “Oh my god, hey,” she says, wrapping her arms around her. “What on earth did Booth say to you?”
This seems to break away any resolve that Brennan was clinging onto, and she lets out the tiniest sob from Angela’s shoulder and Angela squeezes her tighter. They remain this way, rocking slightly, for several long moments, before Brennan forces herself back under control and pulls away, taking several gasping breaths. She would feel embarrassed for losing control like that, but instead she simply feels empty, and hollow.
“Bren?” Angela doesn’t release her hand. “Spill. What happened?”
“Please, Angela, I really don’t want to discuss it,” Brennan pleads. She’s barely holding herself together as it is. She just wants to get back to her computer and immerse herself in complex work.
“A problem shared is a problem halved, honey. I promise, you’ll feel better.”
She takes a deep breath, but it doesn’t help. “I don’t - Booth has - I think -“ There’s no way she can say it aloud, and Angela seems to get this, because she takes out her cell phone and dials a number. A second later -
“Hey Booth.” Brennan sits up, alarmed. This is the last thing she needs. “Just what the hell have you said to Brennan, you bastard?” Suddenly Angela’s voice turns furious, something Brennan doesn’t hear often. She tunes out of the phone conversation and attempts to focus her mind on issues other than Booth. It proves impossible. Compartmentalising. She’s supposed to be good at that.
“Yeah, bye, Booth.” Angela hangs up, and now she doesn’t look angry anymore, she looks sad. She fixes Brennan with a strong gaze, and suddenly Brennan is worried what is coming next. “Booth is dating?”
Brennan gives a hopeless nod. “I pushed him away for too long and now I think I’ve lost him.” Her voice wavers.
“Oh sweetie. I just spoke to him, he sounded distraught that you were so upset. You haven’t lost him. But Bren - there’s only so often a man can go through seeing the love of his life dating a long line of other men and not seem to look twice at him.”
“I’m not the love of Booth’s life.” She says it scornfully, as if the idea of someone loving her that much is ridiculous. Angela sighs.
“Whatever you say. But I think the appropriate phrase for this particular situation is, ‘It’s now, or never’.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You haven’t lost him yet - but you’re close. If you push him away again, that’ll be it. You have to go and speak to him, now.”
“I - now?” Brennan feels slightly sick.
“Now, Brennan.”
“Can’t I just -“
“Go!”
She does.
* * * * *
Half an hour later, Brennan enters the Diner, and instantly spots Booth sitting at one of the tables. She knew he’d be here - it’s where he always goes for lunch, after all. She doesn’t particularly want to have this conversation in a public place, but it seems she has no choice.
Without saying anything, Brennan takes the seat opposite Booth, and he starts slightly.
“Alright Bones? Oh.” He stops speaking as he catches sight of her red-rimmed eyes and expression not dissimilar to a rabbit caught in headlights. “OK look, I’m sorry.” Without hesitation he reaches forward to stroke his thumb across her cheek, and fresh tears emerge before she can stop them. Booth frowns, and his hand leaves her face to link fingers with hers instead. A silence falls between them.
“I’m getting the impression that you want to talk but don’t know where to start?” Booth asks eventually, smiling slightly. Brennan gives the tinniest of nods.
“I’m here but I don’t - I don’t know why,” she admits.
“You don’t want me to date?”
“I - what?” She stares at him in shock.
“You don’t want me to date.”
“Why do you think that?” Brennan asks, not quite managing to deny it.
Booth makes an impatient noise. “Come on, Bones. I can read people. You’re kind’ve harder to read than others, but I reckon I’m right with this one.”
She opens her mouth to disagree automatically, but he speaks first. “Don’t,” he says quietly, and she sags, losing some of her front.
“Fine,” she snaps. “I find the thought of you dating other people extremely unpleasant.”
“Aha. Welcome to my world, Bones.”
She looks at him in disbelief. “But - so all the time I’ve been dating those men -“
“Yeah. It’s a good thing I’m used to burying emotions.” He pauses. “Oh god, I sound like you,” he realises, and laughs. Brennan still looks bewildered.
“No wonder you yelled at me, then,” she ponders, and the grin slides off his face.
“No, Bones - I shouldn’t have done that. But god, you drive me crazy sometimes.”
“I’m sorry.”
Another slightly tense silence. Booth doesn’t want to push his luck but Brennan seems to be opening up slightly so he takes his chance.
“I was really looking forward to going ice skating with you, Bones.”
She instantly looks guilty. “You were?”
“Yeah. I wasn’t exactly thrilled when you cancelled for some random guy.”
“He’s not -“ Brennan pauses, swallows. “I’ll reschedule. We can go on Thursday.”
Booth would normally be thrilled, but he can’t help but jump on her choice of words. “Hold on - reschedule? Have you forgotten the conversation we just had?” Fights to keep his temper under control.
“Booth - I can’t.” She removes her hand from his.
“You can’t what?” He frowns.
“I - I can’t. I just can’t.”
“I’ll tell you what you can’t do, Bones. You can’t keep dating guys when you’re so anxious for me not to see anyone. It’s a two way street.”
“But -“
“Take it or leave it.” He’s getting impatient, now.
Brennan stares at him. This is completely out of her control and she feels confused, conflicted. There’s no easy answer. Suddenly she feels the urge to leave.
“I need to go.”
“Running away again, are we?” Booth’s eyes are dark.
“I need time to think.” She is halfway to the door when she stops, turns, and walks back to him. He’s watching her intently, though he looks slightly lost, and suddenly she feels horrible.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Booth.” His expression doesn’t change, and on impulse she leans down and presses a gentle kiss to his cheek, lingering slightly longer than necessary. Then she is gone.
* * * * *
Two days later - Brennan notes that this seems to be becoming a pattern - she stands at the door of Booth’s apartment. She has been here at least a minute already, without knocking. She has finally made up her mind in regards to the situation with Booth - it is just saying the words aloud that is the problem. How is she supposed to do that when she’s finding it difficult to even knock? This is going to be impossible. Brennan suddenly hopes he isn’t in; that would make things a lot easier. She’s debating leaving completely when without warning the door swings open and there stands Booth, in jeans and an open shirt.
“Bones!” he exclaims. He sounds pleased to see her, and this relaxes her slightly. Her stomach is churning with nerves, however. “I thought I heard someone outside the door. Why didn’t you knock?” he adds, frowning.
Brennan shrugs. Won’t admit that she’s scared. “I need to talk to you,” she tells him.
“Ah.”
“Can I come in?”
“Obviously.” He stands aside, and she tries to avoid looking at his extremely well defined chest, very clearly on display with his unbuttoned shirt.
“So what’s new?”
Brennan frowns, as they both plonk themselves on the sofa. “Not a lot. Don’t you want to know what I’m here to say?”
Booth gives a half shrug. “Sure I do. But I know you, Bones, and I know it’s gonna take a lot of coaxing to get it out of you.”
He grins to show he’s teasing, and despite her nervous state Brennan returns the grin, always amazed and slightly touched at how well he can read her. Sometimes she feels like he knows her better than she knows herself. She says as much, and his grin widens.
“I doubt that. You’re like a closed book with a lot of things, solid walls around your feelings and so on.”
“I know.” Brennan looks at her hands, suddenly inexplicably wishing she was someone else. Someone who can share, who isn’t so terrified of being rejected. Although... “I’ve told you more than I’ve ever told anyone else about my personal life, if that makes you feel any better.”
Judging by his expression, it certainly does. “Yeah?”
“Of course. I trust you.” She feels slightly better. She can make Booth smile, even if it seems like a very occasional thing.
“You trust me?” Booth leans towards her slightly.
“Yes.”
“Then why -“ He seems to stop for a second as if wondering whether to continue, but then he does. “Then... why are you so scared, Bones?”
Her throat constricts. It shouldn’t be this hard to talk about it, but it is. She takes a slow breath in, trying to control the urge to panic. It works, to a certain extent. “Booth, I’m not - used to this. It’s very difficult for me to know what to do, or say.”
“Say what’s on your mind. Don’t analyse so much.”
She makes a scornful noise. “I can’t do that. I could end up saying something ridiculous, or extremely personal.”
“I don’t care. Try it.” His eyes are encouraging.
“Tell you what’s in my thoughts - right now?”
“Mmhmm. It’s not nearly as difficult as you’re making out, Bones.”
She swallows. Breaks eye contact. Her eyes drift down again to his open shirt, and suddenly that slips out without her permission.
“I wish you’d button your shirt up because you’re very well muscled and I’m finding myself distracted.” The second it’s left her lips she claps a hand to her mouth in shock, staring at him with wide eyes. Her embarrassment is only heightened when he looks dumbfounded for a second before hooting with laughter. She slaps his arm, annoyed with herself and him.
“That I can do for you, Bones,” he chuckles, beginning to close his shirt. When it’s done he looks at her. “Now didn’t that feel good?”
“It’s embarrassing!” she splutters, hoping she hasn’t gone bright red. He laughs again, moving slightly closer to her on the couch. She doesn’t move away.
“Come on, you’re telling me you don’t feel even slightly relieved to get that out of your system?”
She considers this. As well as feeling ashamed, she also feels oddly lighter. Maybe he has a point. “I do admit its nice to say it aloud,” she admits begrudgingly.
“Fancy saying it again?” Booth jokes, puffing out his chest, and now she’s the one to burst out laughing.
“Definitely not. And we won’t be playing that game again, it’s cruel.”
“Aww, spoilsport!” He pulls an over exaggerated sulky face.
“Who knows what I would say next?” she teases.
“And therein lies the beauty of the game.”
They smile at each other for several moments, and Brennan’s body fills with joy at the return of the playful banter they share. Maybe things can go back to normal between them... although she still hasn’t said what she really needs to, and her stomach clenches. “Can I have a drink?” she suddenly asks. Booth leaps up and offers her his hand so he can pull her up too.
“Sure, what do you want? Beer, wine?”
“Anything alcoholic.” Booth snorts.
“Trying to drink to forget that you called me hot?” They walk into the kitchen.
“I didn’t call you hot! I said you were well muscled. It’s an objective observation.”
“Uh huh.”
“It is.” Booth hands her a glass and starts looking for a bottle of champagne. She leans against the kitchen counter, observing him. When Booth turns she is still looking at him, and he cocks an eyebrow.
“You’re staring at me, Bones,” he points out, and she shrugs, unsure what to say. She just likes to watch him sometimes. He turns back to the cupboard and heaves a great sigh. She suddenly feels awful again. Is she going to spend every waking moment feeling guilty? She strides across the kitchen, joining him. She places a hand on his back, and when he turns she lunges for him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and squeezing him tight. She hears him laugh.
“What on earth was that for?”
“For being a terrible friend,” she mutters from his shoulder. He pulls back.
“What? Bones, I’ve told you - you’re not a bad anything.”
She smiles at this but shakes her head. “I am. I have been pushing you away for all these years when I know deep down what it is you want, all because I’m scared. And all these men I’ve been dating...” She hangs her head. “I thought I could move on. This confuses me, Booth. I’m not used to feeling like this.” She can see in his eyes that this rare honesty has surprised him. Hell, she’s surprised herself.
“Feeling like what, Bones?” he asks, and suddenly he’s so close, causing Brennan’s breathing to constrict. He doesn’t touch her, though.
She can’t say it. After a moment’s pause she steps out of his personal space, feeling his warmth disappear. “Can I have that drink? Then we can talk.” She hopes this is enough to reassure him, for now.
“Sure, help yourself,” he replies, opening a bottle and passing it to her.
“I’m sorry for what I’ve put you through these past few years, Booth.” He says nothing, just looks at her. She takes a sip of her drink and tries to draw strength. “You know,” she begins. “If you really wanted all this you should have just kissed me, I’m fairly certain I wouldn’t have been able to reject that.” She grins at him, teasing, and his face relaxes into a calmer expression. This is then replaced with a mischievous look.
“Oh, you reckon?” Suddenly he’s right in front of her again, and her eyes widen.
“Um yes, I do,” she stammers, not expecting this.
“And that theory still applies, yes?”
“I guess...”
His hips unexpectedly press against hers, effectively trapping her against the counter, and it completely steals her breath away. A hand tucks hair behind her ear, before he leans in and she swallows, closing her eyes... only to feel him to press a very brief kiss to her cheek. Her eyes snap open to see him grinning like a buffoon.
“Booth, what the hell?” she asks furiously, pushing at his chest to get him to release her. He doesn’t.
“Oh, I’m sorry Bones, you didn’t say where you wanted me to kiss you! For all I know you could have been referring to the cheek, the forehead, even the hand...”
“You know I didn’t mean any of those. Don’t play games with me,” she adds, narrowing her eyes at him. He is unfazed.
“Where then, Bones?” he asks, feigning innocence. Despite her irritation she has to hold back a laugh, but she doesn’t give him the satisfaction of answering.
“Let me go, Booth,” she orders, pushing at his chest again and trying desperately to ignore her body’s reaction to having his body pressed against hers so firmly.
“No.”
“What do you - why not?”
“Not until you answer my question.”
“I’m not answering that question because I know full well that you are aware of the answer.”
“Do I have to tickle it out of you, Bones?”
“There’s no way you’d dare,” she states confidently, and regrets it instantly. Booth’s eyes narrow.
“Yeah?” He waggles his fingers in front of her face.
“I’m not actually ticklish,” she lies quickly, panicking.
“Well, we’d soon find out, right?” is his response, and Brennan gasps, starting to wriggle.
“Come on Booth, please,” she begs. “You’re being childish.”
His hands land on her arms, stilling her attempts to free herself. “I’m not the one too chicken to answer a basic question,” he says quietly.
“You know the answer!”
“Not important. I wanna hear you say it.”
“I don’t like power games, Booth.”
He snorts. “I bet you do when you’re the one who has the power. Anyway, you got ten seconds otherwise I’m going to personally seek out every single ticklish spot you got.” She can see he’s serious and wriggles again, violently. But he’s stronger than her.
“Booth, you’re really going to regret this,” she informs him.
“Seven, six, five...”
“I’m not answering.”
“Three, two, one...” Without warning, Booth lunges for her stomach and she lets out an extremely embarrassing squeal as he begins to tickle her. Weakly she reaches for his hand to stop him.
“OK OK Booth - OK,” she splutters, trying to catch her breath. “God, I hate you.”
His grin stretches from ear to ear. “I knew you’d be the ticklish type. That’s adorable. And also, stored in my mind forever,” he adds, and she glares at him. While trying to ignore the fact that as of now she is very much turned on. This is not what she needs.
“So, I’m waiting, Bones.”
She sighs. “Fine. I refuse to answer this question verbally after you literally trapped me, but I can show you if you’re so insistent.”
“Show me?” She sees Booth swallow, suddenly not seeming as confident.
“Yes - do you want me to?” She looks at him unblinkingly.
“Um...” He shifts against her slightly, and she feels an unexpected jolt of arousal shoot through her. “Yeah, Bones, I think I might like that.”
“Good.” No point delaying the inevitable any longer, and on Booth’s approval Brennan leans forward as best she can whilst trapped against him, pausing slightly to look into his eyes before melding their mouths together finally, something she has longed to do for years but knew that it would bring up issues that she wasn’t ready to deal with. But now she thinks... she thinks she might be. She pulls away from his lips with difficulty after several moments and is almost bowled over by the look in Booth’s eyes. None of her former lovers have ever looked at her like that.
“So, there’s part of your answer,” she tells him slightly huskily, “but also here -“ she kisses his jawline - “here” - she trails down to his neck - “and here” - she unbuttons the top few buttons of his shirt to press a particularly lingering kiss to his bare chest, and feels him shudder against her. She likes that she can produce that kind of reaction in him, and so she does it again. His hands move to grip her hair, and she raises her head back to his.
“God - you’re incredible,” he says without reservation, before bringing his lips back to hers to kiss her properly. Their lips move together as if they have been doing this for years, and Brennan marvels at the soft fullness of Booth’s lips against hers. Suddenly she’s far too aroused, and all too aware of Booth’s strong, warm body wedged against hers. She pulls away from the kiss, leaning her forehead against his.
“Booth?”
“Mmm.” He sounds as contented as a cat after a saucer of milk. He’ll be purring next.
“Can you let me go now?”
“Oh. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Bones?”
“Yes, I would. Don’t be an ass,” she chides, but he simply grins, unmoving. Fine. Tired of being trapped against a damn kitchen cabinet, Brennan presses herself closer to Booth and shifts in a very particular way, smiling triumphantly when he draws in a ragged breath and closes his eyes.
“Want me to do that a few more times?” she asks, quietly. He takes several seconds before answering.
“I think I might lose my mind if you did,” he admits, before regretfully releasing her. She leans to press her lips to his one more time, enjoying that she can now do that whenever she wants, before picking up her glass of wine and wandering into the living room. Booth instantly follows her like an eager puppy.
__________________________________________________________________________________________
*bites nails* What do you think? I wrote this fic fairly quickly, trying to increase my Nanowrimo word count, so I'm still feeling a bit unconfident about it. Reviews are v much appreciated!
ALSO. Seeing as I'm trying for 50,000 words of fanfiction this month, I'm taking Bones fic requests. Feel free to request if you like my style of writing. I'll only choose the ones I think I could write well enough, but giving me some ideas would definitely be useful! A couple of parameters:
1. B/B
2. Nothing above PG13
And that's it! GET REQUESTING. XD
Pairing: B/B
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: Just under 5000
Summary: Oneshot, set in season five. Brennan has had one date too many, and Booth snaps, giving her a damn good taste of her own medicine. Eventual B/B, would I really write anything else? Read through by the lovely luvvinbones.
It’s late, most people at the Jeffersonian already having left for the night. Predictably, Brennan remains one of the few still in the lab, although to her credit, she is beginning to pack up her things. She watches as Booth chats briefly to Cam outside Brennan’s office before trotting directly over to her open door. She straightens.
“Bones, I’m off, OK?” he informs her with a smile, before turning to leave. She calls him back.
“Booth?” He turns on his heel. “Wait, I’ll walk out with you.” Booth looks pleased by that.
“Can’t bear to part with me, is that it?” he asks, winking at her. She grins, unable to help herself.
“Yes - I mean, no...” She stops, looking confused. “I mean, I can bear to part with you, but I wanted to talk to you about something, if that’s OK.” Her eyes are earnest, and he nods.
“Sure. What’s on your mind?”
“A great number of things. I am a genius.”
“You got that right. But don’t take things so literally, Bones,” he adds, guiding her out of her office with his hand on her shoulder. She flips the light off as they leave. As they walk towards the exit a silence falls between them, but Booth knows that Brennan will get straight to the point when she’s ready, so he says nothing, allowing her to organise her thoughts.
“I’m going to have to cancel Thursday night,” she begins. Booth sighs. He has finally, after weeks of nagging, persuaded her to come ice skating with him for the first time since the hockey player was killed. He certainly enjoyed it enough last time (there was something strangely pleasant about holding Brennan’s hand while she slipped and squealed her way around the ice) and while he won’t voice this aloud, he’s been looking forward to it since she agreed. It almost feels like a date. Yeah, a date.
“I have a date, instead.”
Time stands still, somehow. Booth feels his insides vanish, and he stops suddenly, turning to face Brennan. She looks baffled, and suddenly his insides reappear, filled with hot anger. He can’t stand to watch her act so pathetically clueless, making out that she doesn’t know what the hell this thing is that’s going on. Because he’s pretty damn sure she does.
“You have a date.” His voice becomes dangerously low, and he sees Brennan’s eyes widen.
“Yes.”
“You’re cancelling on your best friend for someone you barely know? Exactly how many have there been in the past year, Bones?”
Brennan swallows, but stands her ground. “That’s not any of your business, Booth.”
“None of my business?” He almost knocks a nearby tray of instruments over in his frustration, gesturing wildly. Brennan suddenly looks terrified, and for once he finds he has very little sympathy. “You make it my business, Bones. Frankly I’m getting just a little bit sick and tired of you blundering around like a bull in a china shop, using rationality as an excuse for hurting everyone’s feelings.”
“Exactly whose feelings am I supposed to be hurting, Booth?” she replies, and suddenly she looks quite angry herself. They stare at each other mutinously for several moments.
“I’m not giving you a list, though bear in mind that it would be a damn long one.” Booth pauses, takes a breath. “It’s just...”
Brennan says nothing, simply continues to stare.
“Let me give you a reality check, Bones.” She opens her mouth as if to interrupt but he raises a hand to stop her. “You’re dating a lot of guys. You sleep with most of them, and you seem determined to give me details each and every time. You even bring some of them the Jeffersonian and I politely shake their hand, sometimes even making small talk. You insist on making your love life extremely public, especially to me.” Now that he’s started, it’s almost impossible to stop.
“Booth, I don’t see your point.” She still looks impatient, and that riles him still further.
“I know you, Bones. I know you damn well. And I know that you are not completely unaware of what’s going on.” A flicker of something crosses Brennan’s face, and she avoids his gaze suddenly. He uses his index finger to lift her head back to his.
“Me, Bones. It’s me you’re hurting,” he mutters, and a look of pure devastation spreads across Brennan’s face. “And I don’t know why you do it.”
It doesn’t seem as if she is going to speak. She simply continues to gaze at him, her expression full of horror. He suddenly can’t be there for another second, and turns away to storm through the exit, leaving Brennan standing stock still for at least five minutes before Cam comes to speak to her.
* * * * *
It’s two days later, and Booth enters the Jeffersonian. He’s slightly anxious, on edge - he and Brennan haven’t spoken once since their disagreement. He isn’t sure how to act around her, though he still absolutely sticks to his argument. As he scans his pass into the machine, he notices that everyone is already gathered on the forensic platform, clearly waiting for him. He jogs up the steps, giving everyone a general wave, before settling against a work surface to listen to Cam’s debriefing of the latest evidence found for the current case. He only understands half of it, so allows his mind to wander. He’s very much avoiding catching Brennan’s eye, but without warning she moves across to stand next to him and suddenly a warm hand slips into his. He jumps slightly, and finally turns to look her in the eye. Her expression makes his stomach clench. Her eyes look full of pain, as if she is going through an emotional turmoil. Suddenly he feels guilty for being so blunt the other day. He squeezes her hand and turns his attention back to Cam.
When it’s over, Booth hangs around a few minutes, fully expecting Brennan to ask to have a word with him, but to his surprise she simply gets back to work, acting as if he is nothing more than a plant placed in the corner. He grits his teeth. Fine. Still not ready to face up to anything. Then what he does next is her own doing.
* * * * *
Another two days have passed, fairly uneventfully. Once again Booth is entering the Jeffersonian, but he isn’t here for work this time. He heads straight to Brennan’s office without looking back. To his relief, she’s sitting at her computer, though she looks as if she’s faraway in her thoughts.
“Bones? I need a word.” She looks round, surprised. Without waiting for a response, he enters and plonks himself down on her couch.
“OK.” Brennan sounds hesitant, but she moves to sit alongside him on the couch; much further away than usual, Booth notices. He rubs a hand over his face, hating this entire thing.
“So, I met this woman, Megan,” he states matter-of-factly, and Brennan’s head turns towards him sharply. “She’s extremely attractive, funny and, you in particular will be interested to know, very intelligent.”
“She is?” Brennan’s voice is slightly more croaky than usual. She edges an inch further away from him and he spots it. He continues, regardless.
“Yeah. We went on a date last night, and she wants to see me again tonight.”
“And you’re telling me all this - why?” Brennan’s brisk tone makes an appearance again.
“We’re partners, Bones! We share things, remember. I’ll admit it’s been a while since I dated, but I feel ready again now. So you can be happy for me.” He hitches a smile on his face as he looks at her.
“I am. You’re an attractive single man, Booth, there’s no reason why you shouldn’t be dating.”
“No reason at all.”
“Exactly.”
A silence. Booth isn’t at all surprised by her lack of reaction, but this is just part one of the plan. He suddenly feels unpleasantly like Sweets, prodding and poking at people’s feelings, but quickly brushes that thought aside. This is the only option he has left, he reflects. Finding a way to shock Brennan into facing up to her own reality. Because he absolutely cannot put up with her dating meaningless guy after meaningless guy and shoving it in his face. Enough is enough.
Booth looks at Brennan now, and even though her expression remains impassive, her whole posture is rigid. Oh, he’s pretty sure he knows what she’s thinking, and he hates himself for putting her through it, but it is the only way.
“I’m off to get some lunch, you wanna come?” he asks, standing. Brennan shakes her head rather violently.
“No, thank you. I have work to do.”
“Fair enough. See you in a bit.” And with that he leaves, acting a lot more confident than he feels.
* * * * *
Just moments later, Angela notices Booth leaving and wanders over to Brennan’s office.
“Hey sweetie, you wanna come out for some lunch with Hodgins and me?”
Brennan smiles from her couch. “I’m fine Ange, I brought some sandwiches.” Her voice is outwardly calm, but Angela, knowing Brennan so well, instantly catches flatness in her tone.
“Bren?” She sits beside her and takes her hand. “Brennan. Look at me.” After a few seconds she does, and Angela gasps as she sees that Brennan’s eyes are full of unshed tears. “Oh my god, hey,” she says, wrapping her arms around her. “What on earth did Booth say to you?”
This seems to break away any resolve that Brennan was clinging onto, and she lets out the tiniest sob from Angela’s shoulder and Angela squeezes her tighter. They remain this way, rocking slightly, for several long moments, before Brennan forces herself back under control and pulls away, taking several gasping breaths. She would feel embarrassed for losing control like that, but instead she simply feels empty, and hollow.
“Bren?” Angela doesn’t release her hand. “Spill. What happened?”
“Please, Angela, I really don’t want to discuss it,” Brennan pleads. She’s barely holding herself together as it is. She just wants to get back to her computer and immerse herself in complex work.
“A problem shared is a problem halved, honey. I promise, you’ll feel better.”
She takes a deep breath, but it doesn’t help. “I don’t - Booth has - I think -“ There’s no way she can say it aloud, and Angela seems to get this, because she takes out her cell phone and dials a number. A second later -
“Hey Booth.” Brennan sits up, alarmed. This is the last thing she needs. “Just what the hell have you said to Brennan, you bastard?” Suddenly Angela’s voice turns furious, something Brennan doesn’t hear often. She tunes out of the phone conversation and attempts to focus her mind on issues other than Booth. It proves impossible. Compartmentalising. She’s supposed to be good at that.
“Yeah, bye, Booth.” Angela hangs up, and now she doesn’t look angry anymore, she looks sad. She fixes Brennan with a strong gaze, and suddenly Brennan is worried what is coming next. “Booth is dating?”
Brennan gives a hopeless nod. “I pushed him away for too long and now I think I’ve lost him.” Her voice wavers.
“Oh sweetie. I just spoke to him, he sounded distraught that you were so upset. You haven’t lost him. But Bren - there’s only so often a man can go through seeing the love of his life dating a long line of other men and not seem to look twice at him.”
“I’m not the love of Booth’s life.” She says it scornfully, as if the idea of someone loving her that much is ridiculous. Angela sighs.
“Whatever you say. But I think the appropriate phrase for this particular situation is, ‘It’s now, or never’.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You haven’t lost him yet - but you’re close. If you push him away again, that’ll be it. You have to go and speak to him, now.”
“I - now?” Brennan feels slightly sick.
“Now, Brennan.”
“Can’t I just -“
“Go!”
She does.
* * * * *
Half an hour later, Brennan enters the Diner, and instantly spots Booth sitting at one of the tables. She knew he’d be here - it’s where he always goes for lunch, after all. She doesn’t particularly want to have this conversation in a public place, but it seems she has no choice.
Without saying anything, Brennan takes the seat opposite Booth, and he starts slightly.
“Alright Bones? Oh.” He stops speaking as he catches sight of her red-rimmed eyes and expression not dissimilar to a rabbit caught in headlights. “OK look, I’m sorry.” Without hesitation he reaches forward to stroke his thumb across her cheek, and fresh tears emerge before she can stop them. Booth frowns, and his hand leaves her face to link fingers with hers instead. A silence falls between them.
“I’m getting the impression that you want to talk but don’t know where to start?” Booth asks eventually, smiling slightly. Brennan gives the tinniest of nods.
“I’m here but I don’t - I don’t know why,” she admits.
“You don’t want me to date?”
“I - what?” She stares at him in shock.
“You don’t want me to date.”
“Why do you think that?” Brennan asks, not quite managing to deny it.
Booth makes an impatient noise. “Come on, Bones. I can read people. You’re kind’ve harder to read than others, but I reckon I’m right with this one.”
She opens her mouth to disagree automatically, but he speaks first. “Don’t,” he says quietly, and she sags, losing some of her front.
“Fine,” she snaps. “I find the thought of you dating other people extremely unpleasant.”
“Aha. Welcome to my world, Bones.”
She looks at him in disbelief. “But - so all the time I’ve been dating those men -“
“Yeah. It’s a good thing I’m used to burying emotions.” He pauses. “Oh god, I sound like you,” he realises, and laughs. Brennan still looks bewildered.
“No wonder you yelled at me, then,” she ponders, and the grin slides off his face.
“No, Bones - I shouldn’t have done that. But god, you drive me crazy sometimes.”
“I’m sorry.”
Another slightly tense silence. Booth doesn’t want to push his luck but Brennan seems to be opening up slightly so he takes his chance.
“I was really looking forward to going ice skating with you, Bones.”
She instantly looks guilty. “You were?”
“Yeah. I wasn’t exactly thrilled when you cancelled for some random guy.”
“He’s not -“ Brennan pauses, swallows. “I’ll reschedule. We can go on Thursday.”
Booth would normally be thrilled, but he can’t help but jump on her choice of words. “Hold on - reschedule? Have you forgotten the conversation we just had?” Fights to keep his temper under control.
“Booth - I can’t.” She removes her hand from his.
“You can’t what?” He frowns.
“I - I can’t. I just can’t.”
“I’ll tell you what you can’t do, Bones. You can’t keep dating guys when you’re so anxious for me not to see anyone. It’s a two way street.”
“But -“
“Take it or leave it.” He’s getting impatient, now.
Brennan stares at him. This is completely out of her control and she feels confused, conflicted. There’s no easy answer. Suddenly she feels the urge to leave.
“I need to go.”
“Running away again, are we?” Booth’s eyes are dark.
“I need time to think.” She is halfway to the door when she stops, turns, and walks back to him. He’s watching her intently, though he looks slightly lost, and suddenly she feels horrible.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Booth.” His expression doesn’t change, and on impulse she leans down and presses a gentle kiss to his cheek, lingering slightly longer than necessary. Then she is gone.
* * * * *
Two days later - Brennan notes that this seems to be becoming a pattern - she stands at the door of Booth’s apartment. She has been here at least a minute already, without knocking. She has finally made up her mind in regards to the situation with Booth - it is just saying the words aloud that is the problem. How is she supposed to do that when she’s finding it difficult to even knock? This is going to be impossible. Brennan suddenly hopes he isn’t in; that would make things a lot easier. She’s debating leaving completely when without warning the door swings open and there stands Booth, in jeans and an open shirt.
“Bones!” he exclaims. He sounds pleased to see her, and this relaxes her slightly. Her stomach is churning with nerves, however. “I thought I heard someone outside the door. Why didn’t you knock?” he adds, frowning.
Brennan shrugs. Won’t admit that she’s scared. “I need to talk to you,” she tells him.
“Ah.”
“Can I come in?”
“Obviously.” He stands aside, and she tries to avoid looking at his extremely well defined chest, very clearly on display with his unbuttoned shirt.
“So what’s new?”
Brennan frowns, as they both plonk themselves on the sofa. “Not a lot. Don’t you want to know what I’m here to say?”
Booth gives a half shrug. “Sure I do. But I know you, Bones, and I know it’s gonna take a lot of coaxing to get it out of you.”
He grins to show he’s teasing, and despite her nervous state Brennan returns the grin, always amazed and slightly touched at how well he can read her. Sometimes she feels like he knows her better than she knows herself. She says as much, and his grin widens.
“I doubt that. You’re like a closed book with a lot of things, solid walls around your feelings and so on.”
“I know.” Brennan looks at her hands, suddenly inexplicably wishing she was someone else. Someone who can share, who isn’t so terrified of being rejected. Although... “I’ve told you more than I’ve ever told anyone else about my personal life, if that makes you feel any better.”
Judging by his expression, it certainly does. “Yeah?”
“Of course. I trust you.” She feels slightly better. She can make Booth smile, even if it seems like a very occasional thing.
“You trust me?” Booth leans towards her slightly.
“Yes.”
“Then why -“ He seems to stop for a second as if wondering whether to continue, but then he does. “Then... why are you so scared, Bones?”
Her throat constricts. It shouldn’t be this hard to talk about it, but it is. She takes a slow breath in, trying to control the urge to panic. It works, to a certain extent. “Booth, I’m not - used to this. It’s very difficult for me to know what to do, or say.”
“Say what’s on your mind. Don’t analyse so much.”
She makes a scornful noise. “I can’t do that. I could end up saying something ridiculous, or extremely personal.”
“I don’t care. Try it.” His eyes are encouraging.
“Tell you what’s in my thoughts - right now?”
“Mmhmm. It’s not nearly as difficult as you’re making out, Bones.”
She swallows. Breaks eye contact. Her eyes drift down again to his open shirt, and suddenly that slips out without her permission.
“I wish you’d button your shirt up because you’re very well muscled and I’m finding myself distracted.” The second it’s left her lips she claps a hand to her mouth in shock, staring at him with wide eyes. Her embarrassment is only heightened when he looks dumbfounded for a second before hooting with laughter. She slaps his arm, annoyed with herself and him.
“That I can do for you, Bones,” he chuckles, beginning to close his shirt. When it’s done he looks at her. “Now didn’t that feel good?”
“It’s embarrassing!” she splutters, hoping she hasn’t gone bright red. He laughs again, moving slightly closer to her on the couch. She doesn’t move away.
“Come on, you’re telling me you don’t feel even slightly relieved to get that out of your system?”
She considers this. As well as feeling ashamed, she also feels oddly lighter. Maybe he has a point. “I do admit its nice to say it aloud,” she admits begrudgingly.
“Fancy saying it again?” Booth jokes, puffing out his chest, and now she’s the one to burst out laughing.
“Definitely not. And we won’t be playing that game again, it’s cruel.”
“Aww, spoilsport!” He pulls an over exaggerated sulky face.
“Who knows what I would say next?” she teases.
“And therein lies the beauty of the game.”
They smile at each other for several moments, and Brennan’s body fills with joy at the return of the playful banter they share. Maybe things can go back to normal between them... although she still hasn’t said what she really needs to, and her stomach clenches. “Can I have a drink?” she suddenly asks. Booth leaps up and offers her his hand so he can pull her up too.
“Sure, what do you want? Beer, wine?”
“Anything alcoholic.” Booth snorts.
“Trying to drink to forget that you called me hot?” They walk into the kitchen.
“I didn’t call you hot! I said you were well muscled. It’s an objective observation.”
“Uh huh.”
“It is.” Booth hands her a glass and starts looking for a bottle of champagne. She leans against the kitchen counter, observing him. When Booth turns she is still looking at him, and he cocks an eyebrow.
“You’re staring at me, Bones,” he points out, and she shrugs, unsure what to say. She just likes to watch him sometimes. He turns back to the cupboard and heaves a great sigh. She suddenly feels awful again. Is she going to spend every waking moment feeling guilty? She strides across the kitchen, joining him. She places a hand on his back, and when he turns she lunges for him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and squeezing him tight. She hears him laugh.
“What on earth was that for?”
“For being a terrible friend,” she mutters from his shoulder. He pulls back.
“What? Bones, I’ve told you - you’re not a bad anything.”
She smiles at this but shakes her head. “I am. I have been pushing you away for all these years when I know deep down what it is you want, all because I’m scared. And all these men I’ve been dating...” She hangs her head. “I thought I could move on. This confuses me, Booth. I’m not used to feeling like this.” She can see in his eyes that this rare honesty has surprised him. Hell, she’s surprised herself.
“Feeling like what, Bones?” he asks, and suddenly he’s so close, causing Brennan’s breathing to constrict. He doesn’t touch her, though.
She can’t say it. After a moment’s pause she steps out of his personal space, feeling his warmth disappear. “Can I have that drink? Then we can talk.” She hopes this is enough to reassure him, for now.
“Sure, help yourself,” he replies, opening a bottle and passing it to her.
“I’m sorry for what I’ve put you through these past few years, Booth.” He says nothing, just looks at her. She takes a sip of her drink and tries to draw strength. “You know,” she begins. “If you really wanted all this you should have just kissed me, I’m fairly certain I wouldn’t have been able to reject that.” She grins at him, teasing, and his face relaxes into a calmer expression. This is then replaced with a mischievous look.
“Oh, you reckon?” Suddenly he’s right in front of her again, and her eyes widen.
“Um yes, I do,” she stammers, not expecting this.
“And that theory still applies, yes?”
“I guess...”
His hips unexpectedly press against hers, effectively trapping her against the counter, and it completely steals her breath away. A hand tucks hair behind her ear, before he leans in and she swallows, closing her eyes... only to feel him to press a very brief kiss to her cheek. Her eyes snap open to see him grinning like a buffoon.
“Booth, what the hell?” she asks furiously, pushing at his chest to get him to release her. He doesn’t.
“Oh, I’m sorry Bones, you didn’t say where you wanted me to kiss you! For all I know you could have been referring to the cheek, the forehead, even the hand...”
“You know I didn’t mean any of those. Don’t play games with me,” she adds, narrowing her eyes at him. He is unfazed.
“Where then, Bones?” he asks, feigning innocence. Despite her irritation she has to hold back a laugh, but she doesn’t give him the satisfaction of answering.
“Let me go, Booth,” she orders, pushing at his chest again and trying desperately to ignore her body’s reaction to having his body pressed against hers so firmly.
“No.”
“What do you - why not?”
“Not until you answer my question.”
“I’m not answering that question because I know full well that you are aware of the answer.”
“Do I have to tickle it out of you, Bones?”
“There’s no way you’d dare,” she states confidently, and regrets it instantly. Booth’s eyes narrow.
“Yeah?” He waggles his fingers in front of her face.
“I’m not actually ticklish,” she lies quickly, panicking.
“Well, we’d soon find out, right?” is his response, and Brennan gasps, starting to wriggle.
“Come on Booth, please,” she begs. “You’re being childish.”
His hands land on her arms, stilling her attempts to free herself. “I’m not the one too chicken to answer a basic question,” he says quietly.
“You know the answer!”
“Not important. I wanna hear you say it.”
“I don’t like power games, Booth.”
He snorts. “I bet you do when you’re the one who has the power. Anyway, you got ten seconds otherwise I’m going to personally seek out every single ticklish spot you got.” She can see he’s serious and wriggles again, violently. But he’s stronger than her.
“Booth, you’re really going to regret this,” she informs him.
“Seven, six, five...”
“I’m not answering.”
“Three, two, one...” Without warning, Booth lunges for her stomach and she lets out an extremely embarrassing squeal as he begins to tickle her. Weakly she reaches for his hand to stop him.
“OK OK Booth - OK,” she splutters, trying to catch her breath. “God, I hate you.”
His grin stretches from ear to ear. “I knew you’d be the ticklish type. That’s adorable. And also, stored in my mind forever,” he adds, and she glares at him. While trying to ignore the fact that as of now she is very much turned on. This is not what she needs.
“So, I’m waiting, Bones.”
She sighs. “Fine. I refuse to answer this question verbally after you literally trapped me, but I can show you if you’re so insistent.”
“Show me?” She sees Booth swallow, suddenly not seeming as confident.
“Yes - do you want me to?” She looks at him unblinkingly.
“Um...” He shifts against her slightly, and she feels an unexpected jolt of arousal shoot through her. “Yeah, Bones, I think I might like that.”
“Good.” No point delaying the inevitable any longer, and on Booth’s approval Brennan leans forward as best she can whilst trapped against him, pausing slightly to look into his eyes before melding their mouths together finally, something she has longed to do for years but knew that it would bring up issues that she wasn’t ready to deal with. But now she thinks... she thinks she might be. She pulls away from his lips with difficulty after several moments and is almost bowled over by the look in Booth’s eyes. None of her former lovers have ever looked at her like that.
“So, there’s part of your answer,” she tells him slightly huskily, “but also here -“ she kisses his jawline - “here” - she trails down to his neck - “and here” - she unbuttons the top few buttons of his shirt to press a particularly lingering kiss to his bare chest, and feels him shudder against her. She likes that she can produce that kind of reaction in him, and so she does it again. His hands move to grip her hair, and she raises her head back to his.
“God - you’re incredible,” he says without reservation, before bringing his lips back to hers to kiss her properly. Their lips move together as if they have been doing this for years, and Brennan marvels at the soft fullness of Booth’s lips against hers. Suddenly she’s far too aroused, and all too aware of Booth’s strong, warm body wedged against hers. She pulls away from the kiss, leaning her forehead against his.
“Booth?”
“Mmm.” He sounds as contented as a cat after a saucer of milk. He’ll be purring next.
“Can you let me go now?”
“Oh. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Bones?”
“Yes, I would. Don’t be an ass,” she chides, but he simply grins, unmoving. Fine. Tired of being trapped against a damn kitchen cabinet, Brennan presses herself closer to Booth and shifts in a very particular way, smiling triumphantly when he draws in a ragged breath and closes his eyes.
“Want me to do that a few more times?” she asks, quietly. He takes several seconds before answering.
“I think I might lose my mind if you did,” he admits, before regretfully releasing her. She leans to press her lips to his one more time, enjoying that she can now do that whenever she wants, before picking up her glass of wine and wandering into the living room. Booth instantly follows her like an eager puppy.
__________________________________________________________________________________________
*bites nails* What do you think? I wrote this fic fairly quickly, trying to increase my Nanowrimo word count, so I'm still feeling a bit unconfident about it. Reviews are v much appreciated!
ALSO. Seeing as I'm trying for 50,000 words of fanfiction this month, I'm taking Bones fic requests. Feel free to request if you like my style of writing. I'll only choose the ones I think I could write well enough, but giving me some ideas would definitely be useful! A couple of parameters:
1. B/B
2. Nothing above PG13
And that's it! GET REQUESTING. XD