32A/N: It seems that for some weird reason 'Beaver in the Otter' found my wayward inspiration and hauled it back - kicking and screaming no doubt.
Booth reclined on his couch with his feet sprawled out on the coffee table in front of him, a beer in one hand and the television remote in the other. Brennan couldn't help but smirk as she watched him jump up waving the remote wildly at the television, angry about something transpiring on the screen that she couldn't have cared less about. She indulged in a moment's thought about how much like a child he was when he watched sports; becoming angry and pouty when something didn't go his way. A year ago she might have made a snide remark about his immaturity and how yelling at the screen wasn't going to make his team play any better, but in recent months she had come to know her partner for the somewhat tortured soul that he was underneath his consistently optimistic exterior and had begun to understand that he needed sports as a release and as a way of unwinding and taking his mind off the horrors they witnessed every day, and, despite the fact that sports were simply an updated custom practiced by ancient tribes of preparing young men for battle, she could get behind that.
She settled back down to penning her latest novel as Booth returned to his seat on the couch and once again pulled her feet into his lap. Another recently acquired tidbit about Booth: his foot massages were to die for. As a jingle began to play, signaling the commercial break, Booth turned to her and squeezed the top of her foot indicating that he needed her to come back to his universe for a moment.
"Hey Bones," he said, grinning, taking a childish pleasure in pulling her away from her work.
She sighed, almost wishing she felt the frustration she was feigning, but it had been a while since an interruption from Booth was an unwelcome occurrence.
"What?"
"Were you serious earlier about most women preferring younger men?"
Brennan raised her eyebrow at him. A couple months ago if someone had told her that Booth would willingly broach the subject of sexual attraction with her she would have laughed them off, but ever since their visit to the Collar Institute, where he had insisted that he was no prude, he had become increasingly amenable to discussions of that nature. Truth be told, she felt that it added a new level to their relationship. Now there really was no subject that they could not converse on. Maybe that wasn't quite true.
"Yes, I was. Younger men tend to have more stamina and as women grow older they begin to worry about their body image and desirability and the attention of a younger man would naturally boost their self esteem." As she finished she looked over at Booth. He was grimacing at her and she immediately knew she'd said something wrong.
"Bones, that's so….superficial." Booth shook his head at her. He understood her argument and it really was something she'd say, but it disheartened him to listen to it and feel as though she'd missed the point of every assertion he had ever made about the difference between shallow and meaningful connections.
"What? Why?" She opened her mouth to defend her statement, but Booth held up his hand.
"Your reasons are purely physical...actually that second one was pretty darn psychological."
She glared at him, but he soldiered on.
"Why can't a woman's self esteem be boosted by a man older than her?" He caught himself before insisting that a man of thrity-five had to be better at pleasing a woman than some green kid. "Wouldn't a woman want someone who might understand her better because he's seen as much of life as she has. Don't experiences and personal and intellectual compatibility count for something?"
"Of course they do...just...not as much." She cringed internally - lame.
Booth worried his bottom lip between his teeth. Was she in the market for a younger man? God, he hoped not. If she was then he really had failed in his recent attempts to let her know who and what he was talking about whenever he used words like 'eventually' and 'someday'.
"Does this mean you've dated younger men?"
Brennan looked at him for a moment before admitting: "No, I haven't."
Booth's face was transformed and he beamed at her. Hope lives again!
"There, you see. There's got to be a reason for that. You get hit on all the time by younger men and yet you've never dated one." He smiled proudly at his conclusion.
"I find younger men to be immature."
He was still smiling at her. "They can be taught," he suggested facetiously.
Is he laughing at me? "Maybe it's not worth my time."
"But I thought you said they had more stamina and haven't you always said that relationships are meant only to achieve sexual release and relieve biological urges?"
Brennan's eyes darted away from his face. "They are." She said weakly.
"Then what do you care if they're immature so long as they're better in the sack?"
"I….maybe…" she spluttered.
Booth pressed on. "It's because even you Bones need more than just sex from a relationship. You need a man that can connect with you on a level that a young, inexperience kid can't? Am I right?"
Brennan's eyes took on a glint of frustration.
"Maybe you are….a little bit. Fine, you are. No relationship can thrive on sex alone, but that doesn't mean that I'm actively seeking some kind of emotional connection." No one could force Temperance Brennan to concede anything she didn't want to and as much as she had come to care for Booth admitting he was right was still something she had trouble doing.
She almost gagged on her words though. How many times had she resolved recently that she was going to let Booth know how she felt? She continually told herself that she'd open her mind to what she was feeling, but somehow couldn't seem to let go of her old beliefs regarding relationships. This wasn't an easy thing she was trying to do and she couldn't help but feel as though she was moving backward instead of forward. With each new resolution old fears resurfaced and her rational arguments fought against her attempts to evict them from her mind.
Booth sensed her internal struggle. He knew her heart wasn't in her words and he refused to believe that all of her recent questions about love didn't indicate a new openness toward deeper attachments.
"Are you sure about that Bones?"
"Of course I'm sure Booth. What about you?" she deflected. "Wouldn't you rather have a younger woman?"
"No," he said with finality and without hesitation. He locked his gaze with hers and the intensity almost made her squirm. "I'd rather have someone who understands me and loves me for who I am on the inside, not just a young trophy girlfriend who makes me look good in front of the guys."
'Really?" Brennan looked skeptical. "That will change when you hit your midlife crisis," she asserted cynically.
Booth threw his hands in their air in exasperation.
"Fine Bones, we're all just horny teenagers who're looking to get laid by the person most qualified to pleasure us. Is that what you want to hear? Weren't you the one who came to me saying you wished you believed in love, that you could learn to lose yourself in someone else?" He was up and pacing by now. "You finally get your chance and you're just going to pass it over. For what? To bolster your eroding opinions about sex? I know you Bones and you don't even believe what you say anymore!"
Brennan gaped at him before dropping her head to her hands. Damn him! Why do this now? What had happened to their peaceful evening?
The last thing she wanted was to be forced into a confession, but she was also self-aware enough to know that that confession might never see the light of day if the date of its arrival were left up to her. She took a deep breath; attempting to cleanse her mind of the thick tangle of weeds that were doing a pretty good job of choking off her newfound desire to act on her feelings.
She sighed and cast him a pained glance. "I know Booth," she said meekly.
He plopped himself down beside her and placed his hand on your shoulder.
"Then why do you do this to yourself Bones? You could be happy. You could understand what it is that everyone else finds so incredible about true love. What's stopping you?"
He waited for her answer, but all he got in reply was a muffled sniffle and a continued view of the top of her head. He immediately regretted his earlier accusations and reached out to her, pulling her into his arms.
"I'm sorry Bones. I don't know what came over me." He rubbed soothing circles into her back until the tears subsided. She pulled away from his grasp and shook her head despairingly.
"But you're right Booth? What's stopping me? Why do I feel the need to sabotage myself? It's not the abandonment issues. I can honestly say that the family that I've found at the Jeffersonian has helped more than any psychiatrist ever could at eradicating them." Deep down she knew what was stopping her, but did she have the courage to tell him that she was ready to open herself up... but only to him? If she couldn't have the kind of relationship that he spoke to her about with him then she knew she would be happier being on her own.
"You just need the opportunity," he said softly, but with a certainty that couldn't be missed. The look in his eyes was unmistakable, but still the doubts lingered.
"Maybe…" she began nervously. What if she had misread him? What if this wasn't what he wanted? Screw it! She couldn't live like this anymore: knowing what she wanted, but letting it remain out of reach when it was in her power to do something about it.
"Maybe you could give me that opportunity."
There it was.
Booth nearly did a double take. He stilled for a moment, looking at her closely. He needed to know that she was serious, that he hadn't just had another hallucination. In her face he saw fear and anxiousness, but not an ounce of doubt clouded her eyes. This was his Bones and she wouldn't come out with something as life-altering as that if she wasn't one hundred and ten percent sure that it was what she wanted.
A grin blossomed on his face and she could feel the tension drain from her body. She hadn't been wrong.
"It would be an honour Bones."
With that he wrapped her in a warm embrace, held her close and let her know, in no uncertain terms, that he would never give her any cause to regret her decision to open herself up to him.
"I'll never leave you Bones, not willingly, not when it's in my power to stay," he whispered in her ear and smiled as he felt her shiver against him.
"I know."
She leaned back and gazed at his face, wondering how it was possible to feel so calm and content when she was entrusting herself, body and soul, to another human being, but everything; every word, every moment, every gesture, told her that she could rest assured that every part of her was safe and secure, even her fragile heart.
On that thought she pressed her lips sweetly against his, letting him know again that she believed every word he had spoken. He responded immediately, pulling her impossibly close. A kiss that began soft and gentle quickly escalated to one filled with passion and need as his tongue swept across her lower lip demanding access that she granted more than willingly. All that talk about sex had her on edge and the tension that had been building up over the course of the evening was coming to a head right there on his couch.
His hands were everywhere and Brennan didn't even attempt to hold back the sigh of ecstasy that escaped her his lips fastened themselves to her jaw. If only someone had told her it would be this heavenly, but she chided herself, she had known. She didn't waste time on what ifs - this was exactly how their moment was meant to be. She pulled his wayward lips back to hers and it was his turn to sigh at the still new sensation.
Booth continued to kiss her as he slowly lowered her onto her back, allowing her to feel every solid inch of his body against hers. His lips began to press hot, open moth kisses down her neck and she writhed beneath him in pleasure. There was no question as to where this was heading and as she acknowledged it to herself the butterflies in Brennan's stomach went haywire.
"Booth," she breathed.
He pulled back an inch to take in her face: flushed cheek, sparkling eyes, kiss swollen lips.
"What was that you were saying about younger men being better at…"
"Shut up Booth," she interrupted before kissing the cocky grin off his face, eager and impatient to be shown just what an older man could do.
The End