Title: Origin of Her

Rating: K

Summary: The woman came from a man's rib, from a side to be equal.

Disclaimer: In my dreams they're mine but in reality *sniff* they're not… *another sniff*

Author's Note: My sister keeps tons of these love pictures/quotes/fluffy-awful things on her computer that I really don't give a damn about and few days ago I decided to go though her files *evil laugh* (you know, research) and I came across this quote. It was really wonderful and I really wanted to write a fic using this quote… So thank you sis for your fluffy folder… Enjoy! =)

~ Origin of Her ~

The woman came from a man's rib…

As she carefully put down the brush into her kit, Temperance Brennan stood up from the spot where she was kneeling more than six hours over some remains she was identifying. Her knees cracked as she moved upward and her back ached from the unusual position she posed herself into. She tried to rub away the dirt from her flaxy pants but the damage was already done. Looking at her fingers, she wondered if she will ever manage to clean the dirt under her nails. They ran out of gloves two days ago and the ones she surprisingly found yesterday in her bag went missing. She exhaled loudly and looked forward to the only thing that made her happy right now. Shower. Ever though conditions were terrible and she had to rinse herself, either way she was thrilled to get out from this dirty and sweat-soaked clothes.

She made silent noise as she walked over the dry dirt, kicking few pebbles on her way back to the place where the truck supposed to pick their research team. She heard vivid conversation of her companions and immediately thought of Leo.

Smile rose in the corner of her lips as she wondered if he could help her get rid of the dirt from her body. Her mind ran to the small shower and everything they could do within it. Sometimes she surprised herself how insatiable she could be.

But still, she liked the idea.

She liked it a lot.

Ride to the small rented house went silent for her and pretty loud for her four colleagues. She was lost in papers, finishing her report while making quiet plans in her head for the rest of the evening with Leo. It wasn't a secret around the camp, everyone knew there was something going on between their mentor and his 25-year old colleague. Some knew more then the others, but the conclusion at the end was the same for everyone.

When she entered their shared bedroom he was not inside. Knocking off her boots and dropping her bag on the floor, she walked over to the paper-covered bed, unbuttoning her shirt in the process. Reaching out for the last cookie he left on the small plate, she glanced at the papers that Leo sprawled across the bed. She didn't like going through his work without his permission, she found that to be rude, she felt like she's disturbing his privacy but when her eyes caught few digits and a sign for dollars she couldn't stop herself. Immediately, she thought of donation and that someone actually acknowledged their work. All the effort and knowledge and sweat the put into this task were finally appreciated.

That bubble of happiness lasted somewhere around five seconds until she read those fifteen sentences that stood altogether with Leo's signature on a snowy white paper.

Door opened. Her ghostly white face looked up from the paper she was holding, at him. He smiled at her. She could still see drops of water gliding down his naked chest all the way to the black towel around his waist. So, he was in the shower completely not expecting to see her any time soon. That's why the papers were left on the bed.

"Hey you…" He swallowed hard and tried to smile at her. The door behind him closed.

"What's this?" She stood up, walked three steps and came face to face with him. She could smell his shampoo, coming from his wet dark blond hair, invading her senses and clouding her mind with desire. Stop it. This is far more important then a tumble of limbs and hungry mouths in a shower. "You're selling us and yourself for lousy 50.000 dollars?" She shoved the paper at him.

"50 grands are not lousy." She disbelievingly looked at him. "Oh please, don't try to sell me your honest face expression. If you were me –"

But she cut him before he even got a chance to finish. "That's highly impossible to happen but if I was you I would have told them to go to hell!! But this isn't about what *I* would do, this is about *you* selling yourself for cheap!"

"They don't want us here!" He yelled and she realized this was the first time she heard him raise his voice. "They don't want us here since the beginning Temperance!"

"So you decided to cash that out! You..." She gritted her teeth, pointing out her finger at him before continuing. "This is exactly why your father crossed your name from his will. You sell yourself as a macho man willing to take risks and to be a leader but in reality you're a coward. And your father must have seen what I'm seeing right now - lying, cheating coward…"

His palm made contact with her cheek before she even got a chance to join her teeth to form a 'D'. The blow was so hard; it sent her to the floor. When she looked up at him her eyes shoot rage, anger. Every single thing she idolized about him shattered within five minutes. In front of her stood the person she thought she knew but in reality she didn't have a clue about him.

Skin burned under her fingertips and as she watched him – he made her sick. Suddenly every touch to her body felt filthy. Every kiss against her lips tasted bitter. Every spoken word sounded like a lie. For some unknown reason she felt violated, surrendering herself to a complete stranger every single day and even worse every single night.

Roughly wiping away a tear that sneakily feel out of her eye, she stood up, grabbed her duffle bag and exited.

Out of their room. Out of his life.

For good.

As a 23-year old student of forensic anthropology Temperance Brennan was fully aware in what she was getting herself into the second she allowed her professor to take her out to dinner.

And now as she stood in his kitchen after another night in his apartment, spent in his bed, pouring herself a cup of coffee she asked herself how many young students glided their way through Michael's apartment. She shook the thought away – that didn't matter now 'cause she's the primary woman in his life at the moment. At the top of his list. First. And knowing herself she had to be at the top, first, whatever you wanna call it, in everything.

She smirked to herself victoriously.

"You're gonna be a death to me, Temperance…." Michael leaned over the counter, clapping his hands around the mug, drinking the sight of barely covered Temperance Brennan.

"Excuse me…?" She looked up at him completely confused by his statement.

"You're like one of those mermaids in the ocean, you appear from nowhere, seduce me with your smile and voice and mind, capture my heart and then drag me to the bottom of the ocean where you overpower me, crush my heart and let me die in a misery…"

She laughed at his statement. "You do realize you're talking about mythical creatures? And besides the first mermaid was actually a man. He was the God Oannes from Babylon and he is often shown as a man with a fish's tail. According to written descriptions he had the head and body of a fish but under the fish head is a human head and under the tail are human feet. So some cultures might disagree with you…"

He wore blank expression on his face. "Yeah, Babylonians… And why do you even know these things?"

She left her steaming mug on the counter and walked over the cold, pale blue tiles right in front of him. "Cause it might be helpful one day…" She wrapped her arms around his neck.

He could feel her breath on his cheek. "Like the day you fight Triton?"

Furrowing her brows, she shook her head and spoke confidently. "He's not real either…"

Michael rolled his eyes at her and pulled her closer for a kiss, moving his hands underneath his white shirt she's wearing, which barely reached her mid-thighs, drowning the real emotions in a physical release.

She was too young and too naïve to see the facts alone in those days. He watched her evolve, spreading her wings beside him, absorbing everything she laid her eyes on. And he envied her. Oh, how much he envied her. She's becoming something he dreamed about, worked so hard to achieve and failed. She was a genius. She will probably become the best in her field, his field, and he had to live with the consequences.

Some people were more gifted than the others. And that was the painful truth.

It took her six years to realize those facts. They came out in form of sentences that cut her in half. She was left to bleed.

And he… He didn't even look at her. And that's what hurt the most. Not even the fact that he used her, nor that he lied her nor the way he uttered his lousy apology. It was the fact that he didn't even have the courage to look her in the eyes. He, the person who always told her to be honest, to tell the truth, not to flinch – well, he flinched.

Bruised but not broken – she kept telling herself. First few days were the hardest, she hated herself for opening to him like that, for leaving herself exposed when she should have covered. But she thought of him as a friend, that's why. And now after everything, he was just another mistake in her life. Bridge that she burned altogether with the part of life they spent together. A lesson well learned.

Hopefully…

From the beginning of their partnership you could tell there were enormous differences between them. Seeley Booth was a heart person. Temperance Brennan was a brain person. He believed in gut, she believed in evidence. Sky and earth. Water and oil.

"You asked a personal question without offering anything personal in return and since I'm not a skeleton, you get zilch. Sorry…" At that moment she was looking at him, confused look on her face, having no idea what's he talking about. But by the end of that case she realized, with Angela's help, the exact point of his sentence.

So, she revealed a tiny bit of herself to him. To test the waters. And what surprised her the most was that he without the doubt, in return, offered a piece of him to her. So from now on, whenever he shared something private with her – she shared something private with him. Because they're partners. And that's what partners do, they share things, creating trust and a professional relationship.

But that took a while, her adjusting to their partnership, her simply sharing some things that were private, because she was scared he might use them against her and break her inside, letting out the scared little girl she hid so well all those years. But he did something that she would never expect him to do. He listened. He listened very carefully every word she said. And those times when she disguised her true meanings behind those intelligent sentences and big, incomprehensible theories - he saw right through her, reading the exact meaning and finding simple words to explain her feelings at those moments. And she was left speechless.

And perhaps in those moments, partnership turned into friendship.

He never wanted a partner. Especially a woman. Well especially her. Creepy best-in-the-world anthropologist who's a workaholic, with no sense of humor and social skills. But there were some things he learned about her within few months of working together. It's all disguise. She hid herself behind those scientific sentences and all that mumbo-jumbo things she told him. She hid her hurt, her pain. And somehow he found that to be intriguing. And as time passed by he saw her cracking slowly. In most of those outbursts he was the only witness, live observer of her grief and doubt.

He realized she was more like him then he ever imagined. She had a heart. Much bigger than people give her credit for. Sure, logic and rationality comes first for her but sensitivity… it's not as strange for her as she thinks.

He watched her grow and evolve right in front of him, and he's certain that somewhere in those moments friendship turned into love.

"Bones…", he called her name in a dark and outstretched his left arm to stop her from moving in front of him. "Bones, stay back-".

But it was too late, she was already in front of him, two steps away, carrying that annoying, large gun in her hands. He rolled his eyes, somehow managing to control his rage and grabbed her forearm. "I said…", he pulled her behind him, "to stay behind me."

She looked around her, waving her gun in the process. "Don't be so bossy. I'm a good shot, you know."

"We'll discuss later about your shooting skills." He slowed down his pace, looking carefully around the wall and then moved forward. She was too busy to notice he slowed down so she slammed against him. "Watch out…", he hissed through his teeth.

"I am watching," she looked around the empty, dark storage house, her eyes searching for their suspects. "You're the one who should warn me that you –". His hand over her lips stopped her from whatever she wanted to say next. She blinked.

"Shhhh…" He raised his eyebrows. "We're chasing criminals. Leave some of the conversation for later." The words were barely out of his mouth when the gunfire erupted. Booth shoved Brennan to the nearest wall, shielding her body with his. "Stay still and don't move." He ordered; his voice serious and direct. She nodded and looked around them. The bullets were flying everywhere. She gripped Booth's side, feeling scared all of a sudden.

As he held a gun in his hands and looked around searching for potential danger, Booth felt her grasp. He turned to look at her and saw her eyes wide with shock. Touching her cheek as a sign of reassurance, Booth whispered into the darkness around them. "Almost over…"

She swallowed hard, wanting to believe in his words but the flying bullets around them didn't sound so promising. Every time a bullet ricocheted near them they ducked. The sound was ear-piercing. Booth reached for his cell but, of course, there wasn't network coverage. He cursed under his breath.

"Well I guess we have to wait…" He tried to smile, to loosen up the situation but he failed. Another hail of bullets hit close to them and they both fell flat to the ground. Booth immediately moved closer to her and covered her with his body. He instructed her not to move, his breath on the back of her neck, his body pressing down on hers. She breathed in the dirt beneath them, slowly starting to tremble from the adrenalin that rushed through her veins.

And then suddenly, the shooting stopped.

They both let out a sigh of relief. She felt the left side of his body relaxing against her own and his forehead leaning into her neck. His cell rang in the deadly silence. Conversation was short, perhaps five seconds and as he closed the phone he turned to her.

"They say it's safe but to be careful…" He squeezed her side and nudged her with his forehead. "Come on…" As he pushed himself up, he felt the dirt biting into the palms of his hands. Little particulates stung his hands but he quickly shook them off. When he looked at her, she was on her feet shaking away the dirt from her jacket and pants, her gun waving freely. He reached for it before she killed them and holstered it against his pants.

"Hey…" She protested and moved over to take the gun from him. "How I suppose to protect myself?"

He grabbed her hand and pulled her into the direction of the exit. "You have me… I'm your gun."

"What if you get injured or someone shoot you?" Her voice echoed in the empty storage as she gestured with her hands to prove her point.

"First - stop incapacipatating me… I'm a trained sniper who –". But the rest was forgotten as another gunfire started.

Booth grabbed Brennan's hand and they both ducked. They walked in that position as bullets whizzed past their heads. And just before he managed to push them behind a wall, Brennan yelped.

"Ow!" She felt a burn on her ear. Touching it, she felt blood on her fingers.

Once they were safe, Booth reached for her. "You all right?" He saw her pressing a hand over her ear, traces of blood evident on her skin and her shirt. "Let me see that…"

"I'm OK…" His fingers gently traced her ear. "It's probably a flesh wound… Wha-? What are you doing?"

Sounds of ripping mixed with bullets that ricocheted against the wall they hid. He ripped a long piece of his shirt and put it over her ear creating a bandage. She placed her hand over his, applying pressure on the wound but at the same time offering him some comfort. His eyes looked down at hers.

"I'm all right…" She tried to smile, just like he did couple of minutes ago but seeing the worry in his eyes she leaned in and chastely kissed him. "I'm all right." She said it firmly this time, all the time her eyes bore into his.

He kissed her temple and eased himself against the wall behind them, pulling her into his arms.

"Now what?"

"Now…", he put a hand over hers to keep the pressure on the wound, "we wait for someone to save us…"

She shifted closer to him as she tried to ignore the sound of shots. The place was dark, damp and dirty. But she wasn't scared. Because he was with her, support and protection she'll always have. Always need. She knew he will drown her fears and make her feel safe.

She can always lean on him.

He will never betray her.

Falling asleep with him and waking up beside him were the quickest habits she's ever developed. All that it took were two nights in a row for her to become complete addict.

She loved the way her body molded against his every night before they fall asleep and the way his limbs were tangled with hers the morning after. She'll never understand how their hands entwined in the middle of the night, cause every morning when she woke up her hand was tightly wrapped in his and securely placed on his chest. Perhaps, during the night their minds were searching the slightest connection, the simplest touch to make sure this whole thing was real. That what they have, what they become, was real.

She squirmed against him, moved closer and pressed her face deeper into the place between his neck and shoulder shielding herself from a ray of sun that found its way through his Venetians blinds and landed straight onto her face. He reacted unconsciously by pulling her tighter to him, his open palm that rested on her hip slightly brushed against her skin making her shiver. She closed her eyes and let herself enjoying in those few minutes of peace they had before his alarm clock announced it's time for reality and chaos.

Her mind wandered to the two of them again and all those little things she learned about him. He sleeps on a left side of a bed which is perfect 'cause she prefers right side. He always needed 5 extra minutes to awake. In Booth's book of dating goodnight kiss and good-morning kiss were a must. She loved more the morning ones cause they're lazy, slow and perfect for foreplay. His sheets smelled like spring with just a hint of his perfume. She found that smell to be very Boothy. Oh, and one of his habits that gave her excuse to cuddle-sleep with him was that he took most of the cover.

He murmured something in his sleep and exhaled loudly. Clock on his nightstand struck 7 A.M. and a pleasant music hit their ears. He groaned and turned fully toward her, sticking his head into the soft hair at the nape of her neck. She smiled into his chest and reached out, turning off the tune.

Silence again.

Neither one of them said a word as he rolled on his back, pulling her with him into their previous position. His fingertips glided up her side, tickling her and his lips joined on her forehead in a gentle kiss.

Neither one of them tried to move, even though they were both wide awake now.

In moments like this they found their peace. They felt and absorbed each other's energy and fed their souls with it. Calm rhythm of his breathing brought her serenity. Sweet flavor of her skin tasted divine. They're partners who were deepening their trust and learning to be equal. They were friends who shared their deepest secrets. They were two lovers lost in their desire.

But beyond that - he was a man and she was a woman, two people, two human beings who were completely consumed by each other.

- The End -