Bones Ficlet: Possession (#11 in Into the Fire)
Title: Possession
Pairing: Booth/Brennan
Series: Into the Fire
Series Summary: This is a series of oneshot 300-word ficlets about Booth and Brennan crossing the line over and over again.
Prompt: #19 (Greedy)
Prompt Table: Sex
Written for: drabble123
Word Count: 300
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: None(This is set in the future; Booth and Brennan are officially involved.)
Disclaimer: Bones and its characters belong to FOX, not me. This story is purely meant to entertain. No copyright infringement is intended.
Feedback: is always appreciated. My sincere thanks to all those who read and/or comment; you really do make writing fanfic more fun than it already is. :)
Click here for fic index.
Click for the other ficlets in this series.
Possession
The front door clicked shut. Brennan whirled to face Booth as he tossed his jacket and tie on her sofa, where they landed with a swish of fabric. “I am not a helpless damsel in distress, Booth. You should know better than that by now.”
“What was I supposed to do? The guy touched your ass, Bones.”
“Exactly. Mine.” She narrowed her eyes. “Not yours.”
“Right. So I was supposed to just stand there and grin like an idiot while some asshole groped my girlfriend.”
“I can take care of myself, Booth. You were like a dog marking its territory; I am not your territory.” Chin raised, she stepped toward him. “I do not belong to you.”
“I know that.” His jaw tightened and then relaxed as he blinked back at her, the suggestion of a smile flickering around the edges of his mouth. “But maybe I belong to you.”
Clasping her hand, he pressed it against him. “This, Bones, is yours.”
Her eyes widened as she registered the erection swelling beneath her palm. The blood that heated her cheeks only seconds ago rushed downward as he lifted her hand and flattened it over his chest.
“So’s this,” he said, holding her gaze as his heart thudded under her fingers. “Would it be so bad,” he asked, “if I was yours, and you were mine?” He released her only to brush his thumb over her bottom lip.
The glancing touch transmuted anger into something else and left Brennan clutching the crisp fabric of Booth’s shirt. “I…”
“Hm?”
“I’m…not sure,” she admitted.
“Maybe I can convince you,” he said, steering her until her legs hit the back of the sofa.
Later, head pillowed on Booth’s chest, Brennan said, “I could have broken that man's hand if I wanted to.”
“I know.”