Word Count: 200
Characters: Booth, Brennan
Story Notes: The following is a double drabble—200 word vignette—set in the future
A/N: As always, thank you for reading. All comments are cherished.
I owe this drabble to one of my favorite songs—Times Like This, by Edie Brickell and the New Bohemians. This isn't a song fic, but it's definitely inspired by that song. If you'd like to hear it, you can download it here.
Thunder rumbles outside, and it reverberates through Booth's chest. Wind whips rain against the windows of his apartment; he tugs the weathered throw over them both. Booth's eyes drift closed, and he laces his hands over his stomach, listening. The elements lull him, and his body melts into the couch. For long, long moments, he hovers on the precipice between wakefulness and sleep. Just as he is about to tip over into the latter, she shifts and sighs, jarring him awake.
Frowning, he opens his eyes. “Bones...”
His gaze travels the now-familiar lines, angles, and curves of her face.
She clutches a felt-tipped pen between her teeth, and a red smudge paints her left cheek. Her hair, still damp from their shower, is beginning to curl just a little. This makes her look very, very young.
The time for hidden feelings has passed.
Now, he can look at her whenever he wants and not worry that his eyes will betray his affection for her.
Now, there is just this.
She pulls the pen from her mouth and raises an eyebrow. “What?”
Booth pulls both her bare feet into his lap. “Nothing, Bones.” A smile touches his lips. “Nothing.”