Fic: Moments
Title: Moments Chapter 1
Disclaimer: Bones belongs to Fox, Hanson and Reichs
Rating: NC-17
oOoOoOo
They have an hour between flights. Practically everyone on his team has switched on their cell phones and are talking to wives, families or girlfriends. Suddenly he wishes she was the person he would call in situations like these. He leans back in his chair and closes his eyes. Normally he would withstand impulses like this one.
He blames tiredness. He blames the shock of sudden stillness after the tension and adrenalin of the last few weeks. He blames the strange feeling of being back in everyday life. Clutching his cell tightly while staring at his boots he listens to the signals going through.
"Dr Brennan."
"It's me."
"Booth? Where are you?"
"At Hartsfield waiting for a connecting flight to D.C."
"Need a ride from the airport?" Where did that come from? Please say yes. Why does he not answer?
Get a grip Seeley! You called her. You're supposed to do some of the talking. "Yeah, sure."
"What time is your flight?"
"Five thirty. Is that too early for you to leave work? I can take a cab." Please say no.
"No, that's fine. So why are you calling?"
"Uh, eh..." Smooth, real smooth. What are you, thirteen making your first phone call to a girl? "I was just... we have
some time between flights... I thought I'd check in to see what's happening at the lab."
"Zack and I are working on identifying soldiers." Missing y...fieldwork.
"Okay. Well they'll start the boarding here any minute now so I'll see you in about two hours?"
"Okay. Bye. Wait, which airport?" Maybe you should have asked that when you asked about the flight? What's wrong with you?
"Oh, sorry. Reagan National." What's wrong with you? Not an insignificant detail.
oOoOoOo
Allowing for rush hour traffic she still has enough time to finish the article in the Journal of Forensic Identification.
After catching herself three times reading but not taking in any of the words she goes to make some coffee. Angela finds her in the restroom trying to get a coffee stain out of her white shirt front.
"And you're supposed to be the one with all the science degrees. Everyone knows you use cold water to get a stain out! Come here." Angela wets a new towel and expertly dabs on the stain.
"There you go. That's good enough, unless you've got any important meetings."
"I'm picking up Booth at the airport," Brennan blurts out.
"How did you know he's returning?"
"He called me after his flight landed in Atlanta."
"That's sweet. The minute he sets foot on American soil he calls you."
"He was just calling to check what was happening at work."
"Sure, sweetie, if you say so."
"He said so."
Angela puts her hands on Brennan's shoulders. "Bren, when a soldier returns he calls his loved ones, not work."
oOoOoOo
Snagging three nails looking for your sunglasses and turning the ignition is perfectly normal, is it not? And if you get restless and have to take a few deep breaths waiting to exit the plane when the passengers in the rows in front of you take forever moving up the aisle it is just because you have spent all this time strapped in a tin can and are itching to stretch your legs, right?
The flight has already landed as she is making her way toward arrivals.
She sees him before he notices her. Suddenly her ribs are caging a fluttering bird. He is scanning the people around him, but he does not seem to see them. The couples hugging, kissing, parents lifting up children. She realizes he is looking for her and that he has found her when his face splits in a big smile. She feels her face muscles mirror his and she is powerless to stop it.
Any thoughts she had in the car on the way to the airport on how she should greet him disappears as she breaks into a run. She tells herself it is okay to hug a partner who is returning from a dangerous mission. For once she has a chance to follow that silly, illogical urge that sometimes overwhelms her to touch him. It is socially acceptable behavior her anthropological self chimes in as her arms circle him and she buries her face against the side of his neck.
Having found a rationale for her atypical behavior she becomes aware of how soft and warm his skin feels against her cheek and how her feet have literally left the ground as he is almost crushing her against him. Or is she the one who is crushing him against her?
Just as abruptly she realizes what she has done. She has thrown herself at her partner as if he were a returning lover. Mortified she lets go and studies her shoes the way she would a piece of bone. But Booth does not let go.
"Hey, it's good to know you've missed me."
The words are familiar but the tone is not. She risks facing him and finds a facial expression matching the tone. Gentleness. Her fingers find his cheek on their own accord. He is back. He has returned in one piece. Blood flowing, bones unbroken. She has examined too many remains to take life for granted.
Damn him and his gentleness. She needs him to be his usual self now. Smug with an ego the size of the airplanes outside. That Booth she can handle. But oh no, he is just standing there looking at her. This is not some mushy, romantic film! Can he not see what his behavior is doing to her? She lets her hand fall and steps out of his grasp.
"Is that all your baggage?" she gestures at his duffel bag. When he nods she starts walking. "I managed to find a parking space close," she says gesturing again. Distance, if she keeps a distance things can snap back to normal. No fluttering, no clumsy fingers that can't even turn the ignition properly. No silly urges to throw her arms around him and hold on for dear life.
She glances at him when she has negotiated the twists and turns around the airport. He is looking out the window but his gaze tells her he is somewhere far, far away. At a red light she steals another glance. He is back in D.C., but his gaze is not that of a local taking in familiar streets and buildings.
"When I got back from Guatemala everything familiar seemed so different." The words are out before she can stop herself. This is not about you! He is the one who has returned from chaos and death. The book on social interaction was very clear on situations like these. When someone has been through something difficult it is not helpful to give examples of things that have happened to you. But apparently she got it right for once. He reaches out and squeezes her shoulder.
"I know what you mean."
The joy flows through her body, fills her chest, until she realizes she has no plans beyond picking him up. Maybe you should not have spent all the way driving to the airport trying to work out what was the appropriate way to greet him? And a whole lot of good that did too!
"Do you need to go into work? I could drop you off downtown." She does not want to let him go but she is not his girlfriend. She has no right to expect him to spend his first night back with her.
"No, I'm supposed to take few days off." Come on, she left work early and is spending part of her Friday evening driving through rush hour traffic for you when you could just as easily have taken a cab or even hopped on the Metro. You have no right to expect anything more.
"Do you want to get something to eat? If you're too tired to go out I could cook us something at my place."
Booth thinks about the stack of take-out menus in his top kitchen drawer and there must be a few beers in the fridge. He knows the right thing to do would be to thank her but excuse himself and say that he is tired and go home to a shower, a pizza and beer in front of the TV before turning in early.
"That sounds good."
oOoOoOo
Disclaimer: Bones belongs to Fox, Hanson and Reichs
Rating: NC-17
oOoOoOo
They have an hour between flights. Practically everyone on his team has switched on their cell phones and are talking to wives, families or girlfriends. Suddenly he wishes she was the person he would call in situations like these. He leans back in his chair and closes his eyes. Normally he would withstand impulses like this one.
He blames tiredness. He blames the shock of sudden stillness after the tension and adrenalin of the last few weeks. He blames the strange feeling of being back in everyday life. Clutching his cell tightly while staring at his boots he listens to the signals going through.
"Dr Brennan."
"It's me."
"Booth? Where are you?"
"At Hartsfield waiting for a connecting flight to D.C."
"Need a ride from the airport?" Where did that come from? Please say yes. Why does he not answer?
Get a grip Seeley! You called her. You're supposed to do some of the talking. "Yeah, sure."
"What time is your flight?"
"Five thirty. Is that too early for you to leave work? I can take a cab." Please say no.
"No, that's fine. So why are you calling?"
"Uh, eh..." Smooth, real smooth. What are you, thirteen making your first phone call to a girl? "I was just... we have
some time between flights... I thought I'd check in to see what's happening at the lab."
"Zack and I are working on identifying soldiers." Missing y...fieldwork.
"Okay. Well they'll start the boarding here any minute now so I'll see you in about two hours?"
"Okay. Bye. Wait, which airport?" Maybe you should have asked that when you asked about the flight? What's wrong with you?
"Oh, sorry. Reagan National." What's wrong with you? Not an insignificant detail.
oOoOoOo
Allowing for rush hour traffic she still has enough time to finish the article in the Journal of Forensic Identification.
After catching herself three times reading but not taking in any of the words she goes to make some coffee. Angela finds her in the restroom trying to get a coffee stain out of her white shirt front.
"And you're supposed to be the one with all the science degrees. Everyone knows you use cold water to get a stain out! Come here." Angela wets a new towel and expertly dabs on the stain.
"There you go. That's good enough, unless you've got any important meetings."
"I'm picking up Booth at the airport," Brennan blurts out.
"How did you know he's returning?"
"He called me after his flight landed in Atlanta."
"That's sweet. The minute he sets foot on American soil he calls you."
"He was just calling to check what was happening at work."
"Sure, sweetie, if you say so."
"He said so."
Angela puts her hands on Brennan's shoulders. "Bren, when a soldier returns he calls his loved ones, not work."
oOoOoOo
Snagging three nails looking for your sunglasses and turning the ignition is perfectly normal, is it not? And if you get restless and have to take a few deep breaths waiting to exit the plane when the passengers in the rows in front of you take forever moving up the aisle it is just because you have spent all this time strapped in a tin can and are itching to stretch your legs, right?
The flight has already landed as she is making her way toward arrivals.
She sees him before he notices her. Suddenly her ribs are caging a fluttering bird. He is scanning the people around him, but he does not seem to see them. The couples hugging, kissing, parents lifting up children. She realizes he is looking for her and that he has found her when his face splits in a big smile. She feels her face muscles mirror his and she is powerless to stop it.
Any thoughts she had in the car on the way to the airport on how she should greet him disappears as she breaks into a run. She tells herself it is okay to hug a partner who is returning from a dangerous mission. For once she has a chance to follow that silly, illogical urge that sometimes overwhelms her to touch him. It is socially acceptable behavior her anthropological self chimes in as her arms circle him and she buries her face against the side of his neck.
Having found a rationale for her atypical behavior she becomes aware of how soft and warm his skin feels against her cheek and how her feet have literally left the ground as he is almost crushing her against him. Or is she the one who is crushing him against her?
Just as abruptly she realizes what she has done. She has thrown herself at her partner as if he were a returning lover. Mortified she lets go and studies her shoes the way she would a piece of bone. But Booth does not let go.
"Hey, it's good to know you've missed me."
The words are familiar but the tone is not. She risks facing him and finds a facial expression matching the tone. Gentleness. Her fingers find his cheek on their own accord. He is back. He has returned in one piece. Blood flowing, bones unbroken. She has examined too many remains to take life for granted.
Damn him and his gentleness. She needs him to be his usual self now. Smug with an ego the size of the airplanes outside. That Booth she can handle. But oh no, he is just standing there looking at her. This is not some mushy, romantic film! Can he not see what his behavior is doing to her? She lets her hand fall and steps out of his grasp.
"Is that all your baggage?" she gestures at his duffel bag. When he nods she starts walking. "I managed to find a parking space close," she says gesturing again. Distance, if she keeps a distance things can snap back to normal. No fluttering, no clumsy fingers that can't even turn the ignition properly. No silly urges to throw her arms around him and hold on for dear life.
She glances at him when she has negotiated the twists and turns around the airport. He is looking out the window but his gaze tells her he is somewhere far, far away. At a red light she steals another glance. He is back in D.C., but his gaze is not that of a local taking in familiar streets and buildings.
"When I got back from Guatemala everything familiar seemed so different." The words are out before she can stop herself. This is not about you! He is the one who has returned from chaos and death. The book on social interaction was very clear on situations like these. When someone has been through something difficult it is not helpful to give examples of things that have happened to you. But apparently she got it right for once. He reaches out and squeezes her shoulder.
"I know what you mean."
The joy flows through her body, fills her chest, until she realizes she has no plans beyond picking him up. Maybe you should not have spent all the way driving to the airport trying to work out what was the appropriate way to greet him? And a whole lot of good that did too!
"Do you need to go into work? I could drop you off downtown." She does not want to let him go but she is not his girlfriend. She has no right to expect him to spend his first night back with her.
"No, I'm supposed to take few days off." Come on, she left work early and is spending part of her Friday evening driving through rush hour traffic for you when you could just as easily have taken a cab or even hopped on the Metro. You have no right to expect anything more.
"Do you want to get something to eat? If you're too tired to go out I could cook us something at my place."
Booth thinks about the stack of take-out menus in his top kitchen drawer and there must be a few beers in the fridge. He knows the right thing to do would be to thank her but excuse himself and say that he is tired and go home to a shower, a pizza and beer in front of the TV before turning in early.
"That sounds good."
oOoOoOo