Fic: You Kissed My Lips and You Saved Me | Harry Potter/Bones Crossover
Title: You Kissed My Lips and You Saved Me
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2200
Disclaimer: Neither Harry Potter, nor Bones, are mine.
Summary: Sequel to You Hold Your Truth So Purely, which you should read first. AU of Bones ep 6.22. Luna worries, and Vincent should always trust her to know best.
I've written this in like two hours while tipsy, and it's unbeta'd, so it might be terrible, but I'm kind of going to post this to my journal anyway? I'm not really planning on posting it anywhere else. It's mostly just therapeutic. So yeah. Hi.
You Kissed My Lips and You Saved Me
I
“There’s a sniper?” Luna asks, leaning in across the kitchen table towards him, eyes wide. Vincent smiles a little, knowing her reaction is mostly due to the hours of movies and television she’s watched about the FBI catching murders in her “quest for more knowledge about his job,” when they both knew she was fascinated by the very concept of the television.
“Agent Booth tried to chase him down, but Jacob Broadsky managed to escape,” Vincent says. Hodgins and Wendell had regaled him with what they’d heard earlier, and Vincent had to admit, it had excitement writ all over it.
“So he’s out there somewhere, murdering people?” Luna asks. There’s a troubled tilt to her mouth, and Vincent is reminded of the stories that she rarely tells, usually curled in his arms late at night, her voice uneven and tears on her cheeks. It’s easy, sometimes, to forget what she went through. What she lost.
“We’ll catch him,” he says. “Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan always catch their man. Or their woman, as the case may be,” he adds. He starts to lean forward and tell her about the statistics of female versus male murderers, but before he can there’s an armful of Luna pressed against his body.
“Someone always dies in those movies,” she says. “I don’t like that you muggles use guns. You can’t protect yourself from them-there’s no shield spell you can cast. You can’t protect yourselves.”
Vincent folds his arms around her, leaning in until his forehead rests against hers. “I work in the Jeffersonian lab,” he says. “I don’t need protecting, Luna. Agent Booth is the one who’s out in the field.”
Luna pulls back, outrage on her face that shocks him momentarily speechless. The hard smack against his arm, which he was by no means expecting, takes him even more aback.
“Ow!” he yelps, clutching his arm close and shooting her a betrayed look. “What was that for?”
“You can’t go around saying things like that!” she says. “The people who say things like that always die!”
“Luna,” he sighs. “I’ve told you, I don’t even work for the FBI, I work for Dr. Brennan. And even if I did, life is not like the movies. People don’t get shot just for doing their job.”
She eyes him at length, sizing him up in a way that makes him feel rather lacking. Which, he’s fairly certain, is quite unfair, as he did accompany her at the drop of a hat to Sweden. Surely he’s proven he can take care of himself? As least so far as going about his business? In the Jeffersonian? Which is by no means a criminal hotspot? Interesting fact, though-
“I need to talk to Harry,” she says.
And…she’s gone.
“Well,” he says to the empty room. “That could have gone better.”
II
“You and Luna are fighting?” Hodgins asks, looking surprised. Vincent fully understands. They rarely fight.
“She’s worried about Broadsky,” Vincent says.
“Why, is there some-some magic reason she’s scared? Did she look in a crystal ball or something?”
“Shhhh!” Vincent hisses, putting both hands up and falling into a half-crouch as if expecting angry Norse gods to attack. “You’re not supposed to talk about it!”
“As you’re proving right now, it’s weird that’s she’s worried, because usually you’re the one who freaks out over everything,” Hodgins says, turning back to the soil sample. After a beat he turns back. “Dude. Stand up. No one heard me say the M-word.”
“I told Luna the two of you weren’t trustworthy,” Vincent scowls. Hodgins rolls his eyes.
“You told her I was perfectly trustworthy, as long as I wouldn’t be expected to keep it from Angela. Who she wanted to tell anyway.”
Vincent folds his arms carefully. “I don’t freak out over everything,” he says, trying for quiet dignity. Hodgins snorts in response.
“You were worried someone would see Angela’s sketches of those Keidrigs and would somehow leap to the conclusion that they were not only real animals, but magical animals. You freak out over everything, man. But hey, it’s what we love about you. Right Ange?”
Angela hovers in the doorway, smirking a little at the way Vincent twists around to make sure she’s alone.
“Hey,” she says. “It’s okay. Just me. What’s going on?”
“Luna and Vincent are fighting,” Hodgins says. “She’s worried about Broadsky.”
“She’s watched too many cop shows and FBI movies,” Vincent moans into his hands. “And now she’s gone off to go see Harry-”
“Wait wait wait!” Hodgins fairly cackles. “Harry? The Harry you were jealous of, seconds after meeting her, only to find out that he’s her married friend?”
“I don’t know,” Angela says, lightly teasing, “He is supposedly the hero of the Wizarding World.”
“Have I not asked you repeatedly not to mention that word? Especially not here, where the walls tend to have ears?”
“Honey, I told you, even if Brennan found out-”
“Luna wasn’t even supposed to tell the two of you,” Vincent says. “There are rules and regulations and I would prefer not blatantly flaunting them in the face of wizards.”
“Face of what now?” Cam asks, coming around the corner. Vincent freezes in place, eyes wide. Even Hodgins starts stumbling over words.
Angela, luckily, takes pity on them. “Some sort of video game,” she says, rolling her eyes. She and Cam share a commiserating smile.
“Ah,” she says. “Well, Dr. Hodgins, when you get a chance, Booth needs the results of that soil sample as soon as possible.”
“Right, of course,” Hodgins says.
“I…should go,” Vincent says, before scrambling out.
Cam pauses in the doorway. “Is he okay?”
“Fight with girlfriend,” Angela says.
“Oh. I didn’t know he had a girlfriend?”
Angela’s eyes widen. Hodgins glares at her.
“Yeah, I don’t know much about her at all…” Angela says, trailing off awkwardly. Hodgins bows his head in quiet defeat.
III
Luna comes back that night.
Vincent is sitting on the couch, eating a sad bowl of comfort food Mac ‘n Cheese and watching Four Weddings and a Funeral with a level of morose only those two combined can manage. He makes a mad scramble for the remote when she apparates in, though, because even if this has been one of their first large disputes, it doesn’t mean she’s allowed to know his penchant for Hugh Grant movies.
“Luna,” he says, and he can hear the probably ridiculous amount of relief in his voice, but it’s not as if he’s ever been one to play hard to get.
She’s silent as she walks up to him, the soft blue glow of the television set reflecting against her skin, highlighting her eyes and the subtle shades of her hair. She holds up a silver ring.
“Luna?”
“It’s a portkey,” she says. “When you put it on, you’ll be transported to St. Mungo’s. It’s a wizard hospital.”
“Luna-” he says, but she shakes her head.
“I know you don’t think I have reason to worry,” she says. “But Vincent, there’s…” she pauses, her eyes slightly unfocused as she looks past him. When she looks back at him, her eyes are sharp and clear, and there’s a certainty there that he remembers, a certainty that he accepted a long time ago, even when he had every reason to not. “I need you to do this for me.”
And he’s held her at night while she wept for the people that she had lost, listened to her as she spoke of the veil in the Department of Mysteries. He knows she’s unbearably brave and strong, but he also knows that if this is what she wants him to do, than he can do it for her.
“Just in case,” he says, trying for a half-smile, but her eyes are still serious as she looks at him, as if she knows something he doesn’t.
“It will only work for you,” she says. “And Harry and I didn’t get permission for it. Portkeys across continents are impossible to get permission for.”
“Luna,” he says, leaning in to kiss her. He stops a hairsbreadth from her lips. “I’ll be all right.”
She nods, but there are unshed tears in her eyes, and she presses the ring into his palm.
“Don’t lose it,” she says.
III
“Take the phone,” Agent Booth says. Vincent can hear his heartbeat in his ears, can hear the dull thud of it as it accelerates, can feel adrenaline flood his system.
“What am I supposed to do?” he asks.
“Don’t answer it until the fifth ring,” Booth says. Vincent…
Vincent slips his free hand in his pocket and runs a light finger across metal.
He lifts the phone to his ear-
IV
Vincent’s eyelids feel inordinately heavy.
“Is he awake?”
The low voice sounds terribly familiar. Vincent tries to open his eyes to see the accompanying face, but his body doesn’t seem keen on cooperating.
“Vincent?” That voice seems even more familiar, and he can feel the warm pressure of a hand in his.
“Luna?” he asks, managing to croak the word out. He finally blinks his eyes open, and she’s looking at him with such warmth and love that if fair steals his breath away.
On his other side, Angela folds herself into Hodgins, smiling through her tears.
“You had us worried,” Hodgins says.
Luna lifts a glass to his lips, and he manages a small swallow of water. Nothing is particularly hurting, but he feels exhausted, and he looks to be in a hospital.
“What happened?”
“You got shot,” Angela says, her voice a little sharp.
“If you hadn’t…if you hadn’t had that teleport thing, you would’ve died,” Hodgins says. He shakes his head. “We didn’t know what had happened until Luna came back and told us-there was blood everywhere, and Booth said he’d knocked you to the ground but you’d vanished from right under him.”
“Brennan was crying,” Angela says.
Luna’s thumb brushes along his skin, and he tightens his grip on her hand.
“I would’ve died,” he repeats, as if the concept is so far out of his range that he doesn’t know how to process it. He looks at her. “You saved my life.”
Now that’s he’s looking at her clearly, he can see the circles underneath her eyes, the mess of her hair and clothes.
“You’re not allowed to ever do that again,” she says.
He smiles, then, even if his thoughts are still racing and his mind can’t settle. “I won’t,” he says. When she still doesn’t smile, he tugs her a little closer. “Hey,” he says. “I thought I was supposed to be the worrier.”
“You’re a fusspot,” she says, finally managing a watery smile. Angela bumps her shoulder lightly against Hodgins and nods her head at the door, and the two of them make their way out.
“I am,” Vincent says. “I am a complete fusspot, it’s true.”
“No more snipers,” she says. “No more guns.”
“I’ll outlaw them,” Vincent says. “I’ll break them all to bits. No more guns.”
“I love you,” she says.
He pulls her closer, pulls her close enough that he can cup her cheek in his hand, can lean up and kiss her.
“I haven’t the faintest notion of why,” he says against her lips.
V
“So Harry…explained the whole magic thing to them?” Vincent asks, confused. “I thought he usually went around fixing muggles memories so they don’t remember any of this?”
“This wasn’t official Auror business,” Luna says, smirking slightly. “He had to make sure the American wizards didn’t hear about it, though. And he tried fixing their memories so they thought that you went on a leave of absence after being nearly shot, but your Agent Booth kept insisting that he check in on you.”
“He felt responsible, I think, since he gave you the phone,” Angela says.
“And then Sweets wanted to do a whole psych eval on you,” Hodgins adds, grinning.
“Finally Harry gave up and told them everything. He said they seemed trustworthy.”
“That…seems like a terrible idea,” Vincent says, shaking his head. “Dr. Brennan couldn’t have handled that well.”
“Actually, Brennan just wanted Harry to show her every spell ever and possibly run a million tests on him,” Hodgins laughs. “If anything, Booth had a hard time of it.”
“I think he was really depressed that he wasn’t a wizard,” Angela says.
Luna leans into his side. “I thought you’d be happy that you wouldn’t have to lie to your friends,” she says. Vincent shrugs awkwardly.
“I just…don’t want to lose my position,” he says. “I really love it at the Jeffersonian. I don’t want to have to leave.”
Hodgins rubs a hand in Vincent’s hair, watching with great delight as it sticks up everywhere. “You’re such a dork.”
“Oh, sweetie, like you’re one to talk,” Angela laughs.
“You’re not going anywhere,” Hodgins adds.
Luna loops her arm through Vincent’s.
“That’s a promise,” she says.
Finis
AN: I'm going to miss VNM sfm. =/
.
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2200
Disclaimer: Neither Harry Potter, nor Bones, are mine.
Summary: Sequel to You Hold Your Truth So Purely, which you should read first. AU of Bones ep 6.22. Luna worries, and Vincent should always trust her to know best.
I've written this in like two hours while tipsy, and it's unbeta'd, so it might be terrible, but I'm kind of going to post this to my journal anyway? I'm not really planning on posting it anywhere else. It's mostly just therapeutic. So yeah. Hi.
You Kissed My Lips and You Saved Me
I
“There’s a sniper?” Luna asks, leaning in across the kitchen table towards him, eyes wide. Vincent smiles a little, knowing her reaction is mostly due to the hours of movies and television she’s watched about the FBI catching murders in her “quest for more knowledge about his job,” when they both knew she was fascinated by the very concept of the television.
“Agent Booth tried to chase him down, but Jacob Broadsky managed to escape,” Vincent says. Hodgins and Wendell had regaled him with what they’d heard earlier, and Vincent had to admit, it had excitement writ all over it.
“So he’s out there somewhere, murdering people?” Luna asks. There’s a troubled tilt to her mouth, and Vincent is reminded of the stories that she rarely tells, usually curled in his arms late at night, her voice uneven and tears on her cheeks. It’s easy, sometimes, to forget what she went through. What she lost.
“We’ll catch him,” he says. “Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan always catch their man. Or their woman, as the case may be,” he adds. He starts to lean forward and tell her about the statistics of female versus male murderers, but before he can there’s an armful of Luna pressed against his body.
“Someone always dies in those movies,” she says. “I don’t like that you muggles use guns. You can’t protect yourself from them-there’s no shield spell you can cast. You can’t protect yourselves.”
Vincent folds his arms around her, leaning in until his forehead rests against hers. “I work in the Jeffersonian lab,” he says. “I don’t need protecting, Luna. Agent Booth is the one who’s out in the field.”
Luna pulls back, outrage on her face that shocks him momentarily speechless. The hard smack against his arm, which he was by no means expecting, takes him even more aback.
“Ow!” he yelps, clutching his arm close and shooting her a betrayed look. “What was that for?”
“You can’t go around saying things like that!” she says. “The people who say things like that always die!”
“Luna,” he sighs. “I’ve told you, I don’t even work for the FBI, I work for Dr. Brennan. And even if I did, life is not like the movies. People don’t get shot just for doing their job.”
She eyes him at length, sizing him up in a way that makes him feel rather lacking. Which, he’s fairly certain, is quite unfair, as he did accompany her at the drop of a hat to Sweden. Surely he’s proven he can take care of himself? As least so far as going about his business? In the Jeffersonian? Which is by no means a criminal hotspot? Interesting fact, though-
“I need to talk to Harry,” she says.
And…she’s gone.
“Well,” he says to the empty room. “That could have gone better.”
II
“You and Luna are fighting?” Hodgins asks, looking surprised. Vincent fully understands. They rarely fight.
“She’s worried about Broadsky,” Vincent says.
“Why, is there some-some magic reason she’s scared? Did she look in a crystal ball or something?”
“Shhhh!” Vincent hisses, putting both hands up and falling into a half-crouch as if expecting angry Norse gods to attack. “You’re not supposed to talk about it!”
“As you’re proving right now, it’s weird that’s she’s worried, because usually you’re the one who freaks out over everything,” Hodgins says, turning back to the soil sample. After a beat he turns back. “Dude. Stand up. No one heard me say the M-word.”
“I told Luna the two of you weren’t trustworthy,” Vincent scowls. Hodgins rolls his eyes.
“You told her I was perfectly trustworthy, as long as I wouldn’t be expected to keep it from Angela. Who she wanted to tell anyway.”
Vincent folds his arms carefully. “I don’t freak out over everything,” he says, trying for quiet dignity. Hodgins snorts in response.
“You were worried someone would see Angela’s sketches of those Keidrigs and would somehow leap to the conclusion that they were not only real animals, but magical animals. You freak out over everything, man. But hey, it’s what we love about you. Right Ange?”
Angela hovers in the doorway, smirking a little at the way Vincent twists around to make sure she’s alone.
“Hey,” she says. “It’s okay. Just me. What’s going on?”
“Luna and Vincent are fighting,” Hodgins says. “She’s worried about Broadsky.”
“She’s watched too many cop shows and FBI movies,” Vincent moans into his hands. “And now she’s gone off to go see Harry-”
“Wait wait wait!” Hodgins fairly cackles. “Harry? The Harry you were jealous of, seconds after meeting her, only to find out that he’s her married friend?”
“I don’t know,” Angela says, lightly teasing, “He is supposedly the hero of the Wizarding World.”
“Have I not asked you repeatedly not to mention that word? Especially not here, where the walls tend to have ears?”
“Honey, I told you, even if Brennan found out-”
“Luna wasn’t even supposed to tell the two of you,” Vincent says. “There are rules and regulations and I would prefer not blatantly flaunting them in the face of wizards.”
“Face of what now?” Cam asks, coming around the corner. Vincent freezes in place, eyes wide. Even Hodgins starts stumbling over words.
Angela, luckily, takes pity on them. “Some sort of video game,” she says, rolling her eyes. She and Cam share a commiserating smile.
“Ah,” she says. “Well, Dr. Hodgins, when you get a chance, Booth needs the results of that soil sample as soon as possible.”
“Right, of course,” Hodgins says.
“I…should go,” Vincent says, before scrambling out.
Cam pauses in the doorway. “Is he okay?”
“Fight with girlfriend,” Angela says.
“Oh. I didn’t know he had a girlfriend?”
Angela’s eyes widen. Hodgins glares at her.
“Yeah, I don’t know much about her at all…” Angela says, trailing off awkwardly. Hodgins bows his head in quiet defeat.
III
Luna comes back that night.
Vincent is sitting on the couch, eating a sad bowl of comfort food Mac ‘n Cheese and watching Four Weddings and a Funeral with a level of morose only those two combined can manage. He makes a mad scramble for the remote when she apparates in, though, because even if this has been one of their first large disputes, it doesn’t mean she’s allowed to know his penchant for Hugh Grant movies.
“Luna,” he says, and he can hear the probably ridiculous amount of relief in his voice, but it’s not as if he’s ever been one to play hard to get.
She’s silent as she walks up to him, the soft blue glow of the television set reflecting against her skin, highlighting her eyes and the subtle shades of her hair. She holds up a silver ring.
“Luna?”
“It’s a portkey,” she says. “When you put it on, you’ll be transported to St. Mungo’s. It’s a wizard hospital.”
“Luna-” he says, but she shakes her head.
“I know you don’t think I have reason to worry,” she says. “But Vincent, there’s…” she pauses, her eyes slightly unfocused as she looks past him. When she looks back at him, her eyes are sharp and clear, and there’s a certainty there that he remembers, a certainty that he accepted a long time ago, even when he had every reason to not. “I need you to do this for me.”
And he’s held her at night while she wept for the people that she had lost, listened to her as she spoke of the veil in the Department of Mysteries. He knows she’s unbearably brave and strong, but he also knows that if this is what she wants him to do, than he can do it for her.
“Just in case,” he says, trying for a half-smile, but her eyes are still serious as she looks at him, as if she knows something he doesn’t.
“It will only work for you,” she says. “And Harry and I didn’t get permission for it. Portkeys across continents are impossible to get permission for.”
“Luna,” he says, leaning in to kiss her. He stops a hairsbreadth from her lips. “I’ll be all right.”
She nods, but there are unshed tears in her eyes, and she presses the ring into his palm.
“Don’t lose it,” she says.
III
“Take the phone,” Agent Booth says. Vincent can hear his heartbeat in his ears, can hear the dull thud of it as it accelerates, can feel adrenaline flood his system.
“What am I supposed to do?” he asks.
“Don’t answer it until the fifth ring,” Booth says. Vincent…
Vincent slips his free hand in his pocket and runs a light finger across metal.
He lifts the phone to his ear-
IV
Vincent’s eyelids feel inordinately heavy.
“Is he awake?”
The low voice sounds terribly familiar. Vincent tries to open his eyes to see the accompanying face, but his body doesn’t seem keen on cooperating.
“Vincent?” That voice seems even more familiar, and he can feel the warm pressure of a hand in his.
“Luna?” he asks, managing to croak the word out. He finally blinks his eyes open, and she’s looking at him with such warmth and love that if fair steals his breath away.
On his other side, Angela folds herself into Hodgins, smiling through her tears.
“You had us worried,” Hodgins says.
Luna lifts a glass to his lips, and he manages a small swallow of water. Nothing is particularly hurting, but he feels exhausted, and he looks to be in a hospital.
“What happened?”
“You got shot,” Angela says, her voice a little sharp.
“If you hadn’t…if you hadn’t had that teleport thing, you would’ve died,” Hodgins says. He shakes his head. “We didn’t know what had happened until Luna came back and told us-there was blood everywhere, and Booth said he’d knocked you to the ground but you’d vanished from right under him.”
“Brennan was crying,” Angela says.
Luna’s thumb brushes along his skin, and he tightens his grip on her hand.
“I would’ve died,” he repeats, as if the concept is so far out of his range that he doesn’t know how to process it. He looks at her. “You saved my life.”
Now that’s he’s looking at her clearly, he can see the circles underneath her eyes, the mess of her hair and clothes.
“You’re not allowed to ever do that again,” she says.
He smiles, then, even if his thoughts are still racing and his mind can’t settle. “I won’t,” he says. When she still doesn’t smile, he tugs her a little closer. “Hey,” he says. “I thought I was supposed to be the worrier.”
“You’re a fusspot,” she says, finally managing a watery smile. Angela bumps her shoulder lightly against Hodgins and nods her head at the door, and the two of them make their way out.
“I am,” Vincent says. “I am a complete fusspot, it’s true.”
“No more snipers,” she says. “No more guns.”
“I’ll outlaw them,” Vincent says. “I’ll break them all to bits. No more guns.”
“I love you,” she says.
He pulls her closer, pulls her close enough that he can cup her cheek in his hand, can lean up and kiss her.
“I haven’t the faintest notion of why,” he says against her lips.
V
“So Harry…explained the whole magic thing to them?” Vincent asks, confused. “I thought he usually went around fixing muggles memories so they don’t remember any of this?”
“This wasn’t official Auror business,” Luna says, smirking slightly. “He had to make sure the American wizards didn’t hear about it, though. And he tried fixing their memories so they thought that you went on a leave of absence after being nearly shot, but your Agent Booth kept insisting that he check in on you.”
“He felt responsible, I think, since he gave you the phone,” Angela says.
“And then Sweets wanted to do a whole psych eval on you,” Hodgins adds, grinning.
“Finally Harry gave up and told them everything. He said they seemed trustworthy.”
“That…seems like a terrible idea,” Vincent says, shaking his head. “Dr. Brennan couldn’t have handled that well.”
“Actually, Brennan just wanted Harry to show her every spell ever and possibly run a million tests on him,” Hodgins laughs. “If anything, Booth had a hard time of it.”
“I think he was really depressed that he wasn’t a wizard,” Angela says.
Luna leans into his side. “I thought you’d be happy that you wouldn’t have to lie to your friends,” she says. Vincent shrugs awkwardly.
“I just…don’t want to lose my position,” he says. “I really love it at the Jeffersonian. I don’t want to have to leave.”
Hodgins rubs a hand in Vincent’s hair, watching with great delight as it sticks up everywhere. “You’re such a dork.”
“Oh, sweetie, like you’re one to talk,” Angela laughs.
“You’re not going anywhere,” Hodgins adds.
Luna loops her arm through Vincent’s.
“That’s a promise,” she says.
Finis
AN: I'm going to miss VNM sfm. =/
.