vintage.

[thefbiagent]

Patience was a virtue; one that Booth generally lacked. Coffee took time, unfortunately, and so in his past couple years on the island, he’d learned ways to kill time. He was waiting for his coffee to finish brewing, so he headed over to the rec room to find something decent to read; he knew the noises the machine made, and he had a nose for

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[callmecassandra]

Coffee. A driving force, especially after the day. She wheeled into the kitchen in smooth movements, the fresh-brewed smell on the air. Thank God.

Just when she needed it, too.

When she saw Booth for the second time that day, she couldn't really stop the smile that crept onto her face - and when she wheeled closer and saw what he was looking at - she nearly whistled. "Why, Seeley, I didn't know you had it in you."

Which, like a lot of things, was a lie - but she wouldn't object to him having that suit on, that much she knew.

[thefbiagent]

He turned to Barbara, mouth snapping shut and curling into a weak smile. "I don't know about that; I'm pretty sure you did." His smile grew stronger, eyes twinkling.

[callmecassandra]

She stared at him for a long moment. "I may need a demonstration. To be convinced." She rolled to get herself a cup of coffee, waiting for his response.

What the hell are you doing?

She didn't even know - or if she did, she wasn't willing to admit it.

[thefbiagent]

He opened his mouth in surprise, watching her roll over to the coffee machine. He snapped his mouth shut, leaning back in his chair with a push, still a bit lost. He snapped his mouth shut, pushing himself to his feet to grab her a mug; he'd used the last one that was by the machine. He pulled one down, placing it next to the machine gently as he turned to face her. "A demonstration." He slid his hands in his pockets, watching her levelly, letting her take the lead.

[callmecassandra]

"if you want to get dressed up in a tux - not the plaid one, though - and lounge around, far be it from me to protest." She stared up at him, expectant. "I wouldn't want to call you from your native calling."

Her eyes flicked to the coffee cup. "Thanks."

[thefbiagent]

His lips parted softly, eyes a little wider. Damn. "I think I left all my tuxes back home, unfortunately." Barbara could flirt with the best of them, but she was being more forward than she'd ever been with him. Native calling.

His eyes flicked to the coffee and he pulled in a breath, pouring it into her mug to busy himself. "Milk and sugar?"

[callmecassandra]

"Sugar. Coffee this good doesn't need milk." She paused, and her eyes flicked to the table. She could see the surprise- could read body language pretty well, even though that'd always been Dick's forte.

"Pity. Maybe the box will be kind." She tugged her small latop out of the pocket in her wheelchair. "Are you going to join me?" She hoped, absurdly.

You're another brain, Babs. Flirting's just fine, but how far do you expect it to go?

[thefbiagent]

His eyes wrinkled as he smiled wide. "Why, we heading down to the clothes box?" He fell into step with her as she led the way, and he found himself doing then what he had been doing more and more around her-- letting her take the lead. He liked strong women, he always had. But she made him feel off-kilter, lost. She flirted, but then pulled back. It was a challenge he couldn't refuse.

[callmecassandra]

"Only if-" She stopped briefly, shaking her head. "Just needed to grab something unless you actually need clothes." Only if I can stay was what almost leapt from her mouth - and she wondered if it was just that it'd been a while. God knew it had.

"Then coffee."

[thefbiagent]

He stopped next to her, eyebrows raised. "Really." He paused with a curious look, half smiling. "You're serious? You'd help me pick something out?" His smile grew wider. This flirting had a goal, had a destination; it was more than what they'd done before. He liked it; she was gorgeous, and brilliant, and kept him on his toes. This? Was upping the ante. Even if just a little.

[callmecassandra]

She looked up at him for a moment. "What're we going to do once you've got a suit? I mean, I could just sit back and look at you, but it'd get a little old, don't you think?"

In other words: Make it worth my while.

[thefbiagent]

His mouth opened softly into a smile. Damn. "I'm sure we could find something to pass the time." He paused. "Besides, half the fun of getting into a suit is getting out of them." And into street clothes, of course. But he might of neglected mentioning that part.

[callmecassandra]

"Getting out of them? Well, we'd probably want to go somewhere a little more private for that, unless you particularly want to parade around the laundry room." She paused for a few moments - almost thirty seconds, then just continued. "Good for you that you know where my suite is. Convenient."

[thefbiagent]

"Good thing." He grinned wide and easy, shaking his head fondly. "Lead the way, B."

[callmecassandra]

She kept wheeling down the hall, pausing to hit the button for the elevator. "You should have a suit. Something to wear to parties."

Parties that she didn't go to unless coerced, but that was hardly the point.

Besides, he'd already agreed, and she- well. She'd seen the pictures. It wasn't like she was going to protest.

[thefbiagent]

He pulled in a breath as he fell into step beside her. This was... bizarre. Exciting. His stomach fluttered oddly, and he licked his lips, turning to face her as they waited for the elevator. He leaned against the elevator doorframe, looking down at her. Are we really doing this? It sure felt like it.

"It's true; jeans doesn't really cut it for those parties." They'd met at a party. And then promptly abandoned it, but still. She had looked too good to pass up.