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[ remote controls and thai food ]
by kHo

She´d always thought-- and yes, she had thought about this, no matter how many times she´d told Angela she didn´t have feelings for Booth-- that when it happened, it would be something important, something emotional. And it was, it really, really was, but not the way she´d thought it would be.

She´d thought, adrenaline. Adrenaline would be a factor. She would have done something stupid, or said something stupid. She would have gone left to his right or up to his down, and he would have been angry with her. It would have been a really hard, really bad day, emotionally for her or him, or just a really bad case, and tempers would be easily provoked, and yelling would happen. Yelling that turns into shoving that turns into kissing, hot and heavy up against the wall.

Or maybe the opposite. Because adrenaline and dopamine are pretty much the same thing, the positive and negative sides of the same coin, and the resultant reactions to both stimulants can be the same.

Like maybe a really good day, where they found the bones before they were considered ‘remains´. Like maybe a hard case finally put to rest, and won, and the bad guy goes to jail and the good guys go out for a drink. Like maybe it´s someone´s birthday and they´ve both had too much to drink and a smile turns into a hug that turns into a kiss on the cheek that turns into a kiss on the mouth.

She´d never thought this though. She´d never thought Thai food shared on the couch while watching some stupid sitcom. The blonde said something dumb and the guy said something over-the-top and stupid, and Booth laughed and she mocked him, and then her leg touched his and she didn´t move it. Because his leg was warm, and maybe she was cold or maybe she just wanted something to lean her leg against.

She´d never thought it would be when she was reaching for the remote to change the channel and he was laughing at her and saying “come on, Bones, relax, normal people do this, normal people laugh at stupid stuff, and I can´t believe you´ve never seen Friends, this is why you never get what me and Hodgins are talking about.’

She never thought she´d play the part of Girl in the Girl Meets Guy romantic comedy where they wrestle over the remote, giggling, until somehow his lips are on hers and the remote is somewhere on the floor, and she feels like she´s melting in to the couch.

Booth´s fingers are in her hair and his mouth is so soft against hers, moving so slowly, so careful, like she´s a skittish bunny rabbit that´s going to blink and realize the bobcat is about to eat her and bound away at top speed.

And then she does blink, because wait a minute, Booth just kissed her. She pulls back just enough to look up at him and he´s smiling and his eyes are half-slits and his finger is running a light path down her jaw bone, and it takes everything in her to hold tight to the fact that she stopped kissing him for a reason.


“Don´t,’ he says, gentle, cupping her chin in his and leaning forward until their noses touch.


“Shh,’ he says, and his breath brushes over her mouth and down her neck and it makes her shiver and close her eyes. His lips connect with hers again and she can feel the shiver make it´s way through her again, all the way to her toes.

“We´re partners.’

“Mmhm,’ he mumbles against he mouth, kissing her again, once, twice, three times before he pulls away again, but only slightly. Only just enough to let her catch her breath. “You really can´t stop thinking for five minutes can you?’

“Well no, people never really stop thinking, even when they´re not consciously aware of it, their brain is still processing--’

His chuckle is a warm breath over her throat and it shuts her up just as surely as his lips would have. “Stop taking everything so literally. It´s cute and all, but I know that you know I didn´t mean it like that.’

“It´s just--’

“You had to know,’ he says, and his voice is so low and soft, and just for her, only for her to hear him like this, and she closes her eyes to let it wash over her. “I´ve wanted to kiss you about a thousand times.’

She shakes her head, eyes still closed. “It could get messy.’

“Only if you want it to be,’ he says, and she doesn´t have to open her eyes to see his grin turn wicked, know his eyebrows are waggling.

She laughs and takes a blind swipe at him, hand making contact with his chest. His hard, well-built, muscular chest, a chest that she´s actually seen and has featured prominently in dreams she´s never told anyone. “Booth.’


She opens her eyes and fixes him with a look. A look that says ‘stop being so glib, I´m serious here.´ He hits her back with his ‘I am so totally dead serious too´ look, but it´s marred by the dancing amusement in his eyes. “Aren´t there rules about this? About why partners don´t get involved with each other?’

“Screw the rules,’ he says, eyes drifting down to look at her mouth, thumb tracing the line of her jaw again. “Not like you ever followed my rules before, why start now?’

“No, but your rules are stupid,’ she says, trying so very hard to not get distracted by the soft touch of his fingers, how the way he´s touching her right now feels so much more intimate than the way any of her lovers have ever touched her. “That rule makes sense though, it´s logical. If we… if you and I… we wouldn´t be able to--’

“You´re not serious,’ he says, pulling back now to look at her. Giving her that look that says ‘I have never met anyone that´s as smart as you and yet so god damned stupid.´ “You think I´ll lose my objectivity? That if we get involved, we won´t be able to do our jobs because we´ll be too busy worrying about the other one´s well being?’

She nods. “Isn´t that the rationale behind the rule?’

“First of all, it´s not a rule, it´s a good suggestion,’ he says, his hand falling to the couch beside her shoulder. “And it´s not like we´re really partners as far as the FBI is concerned, not as far as the government is concerned, that´s just a word we use to describe our relationship.’

She blinks. “You don´t consider me your partner?’

He rolls his eyes. “Of course I do, but the point I´m making here is that you´re saying us being involved will compromise us,’ he says, raising his eyebrows. “And frankly, I´m a little insulted that you don´t already consider yourself compromised, because I know I sure as hell am.’

She shakes her head. “I don´t--’

“You think I wouldn´t break every single protocol there is to protect you,’ he asks, raising an eyebrow. “You think I haven´t already? That I wouldn´t jump in front of a bullet, risk getting run over by a train or, oh, I don´t know, be willing to lose my job, to protect you?’

“I know, but--’

“This,’ he says, motioning between them, eyes flicking down to her mouth, “us happening here, this wouldn´t change anything. At least not for me. Because, I´m kind of…’ he looks up at her, chewing on his lip for a moment, contemplating. “I´m kind of already as invested as it´s possible for me to be.’

She looks up at him and knows, without even having to think about it, that it´s true. She knows it´s true, it´s always been true, and it´s true for her too. There´s nothing she wouldn´t do for Booth, even if it´s not logical, even if it´s not ethical, even if it´s not legal. “What if it ends bad,’ she asks finally, looking away. “I like us where we are. I don´t want it to end bad and have it be where… where I can´t look at you anymore, or we can´t work together anymore.’

He closes his eyes, rubbing at his temple. “Look, I could make this grand sweeping promise that that would never happen to us, that even if it did, nothing could be bad enough to make us not be able to work together, that we´d always be friends and we´d work it out, but--’

“But that would be a lie,’ she says.

“Yeah,’ he answers, looking at her. “It would.’

“But you don´t lie to me.’

He laughs. “Which is why I´m not going to make that promise.’

“So clearly we can´t--’

“Bones,’ he says, grabbing her wrist as she starts to rise, not hard, not in any kind of possessive way, not in a way that she couldn´t get out of, but more like a plea. “Listen, just… just for once, just one time, stop thinking.’

“I can´t.’

“Just once,’ he says, eyes pleading. “Forget the rationale, forget logistics, forget consequences, stop with all the reasons why this is possibly a mistake, or could lead to bad things, and just…’

She relaxes back on the couch, looking at him. “Just what?’

“Just do what you want to do,’ he whispers, leaning closer. “Just, what you want. Want isn´t reasoned, it´s not logical, it´s a basic instinct. Just do what you want to do, without over thinking it.’

She reaches forward and touches his face, traces the curve of his cheekbone with her index finger, his jaw with her thumb. His lips. “It´s probably a mistake.’

“Probably,’ he says, staring straight into her eyes.

She leans forward and kisses him, fingers sliding back, curving up and into his hair, breathes in his air as her own. He makes a noise in the back of his throat, somewhere between surprise and happiness, and then he kisses her back, hands on her shoulders pulling her forward, wrapping around her and pulling her tight up against him, mouth opening to deepen the kiss.

“I can´t believe you caved,’ he whispers against her neck moments later, hours later, lowering his head to nibble lightly at her tendon, breathe hot and tongue wet against her skin.

“Booth,’ she complains, swatting at him. “I didn´t cave, you told me to do what I wanted, to stop thinking!’

He laughs, pulling back to look at her, cupping her face in both of his hands and bringing their noses together. “Hey, don´t get me wrong, I´m glad you caved.’

She frowns at him, fully intending to be angry and outraged, but gets distracted by the way his lips glisten from her own saliva. “Shut up and kiss me.’

He laughs again. “I should have opened with that,’ he says, grinning widely. “Coulda cut all that talk about mistakes and logic out right quick.’

He cuts off any kind of retort she might have had by leaning her back against the couch cushions and kissing her breathless all over again.

All feedback much appreciated!
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