A/N: I'm so sorry it took me so long to post this. I actually wrote another epilogue and was all ready to post it and decided I didn't like it. So, I'm gonna redo some of it and post it as a separate one shot/sequel sort of thing. I like this one better as an epilogue, anyway, though more liberties were taken. Look out for that. The reviews from last chapter were absolutely phenomenal and I'm soooo thankful!
A/N 2: I definitely earned my T rating in this one, at the very end. It's more like T and a half. Just letting you know! Hope y'all enjoy!
"Bones, you can't be serious," Booth says incredulously, placing two glasses of champagne on the coffee table before sitting down next to her on the couch.
"Booth, you know I don't watch TV," she responds, pulling her knees underneath her.
"But it's the countdown. THE countdown. Dick Clark's Rockin' New Year's Eve has been on for fifty years!" He explains to her.
She's not going to appreciate your hyperbole. Ugh...hyperbole? Bones.
"I seriously doubt that." She gives him a skeptical look.
How did I know?
He rolls his eyes. "Fine. But it's been on for a really long time!" He throws his arm on the back of the couch in frustration.
"Don't be such a child," she teases. She scoots closer, shifting her body to rest against his, and places her head in the crook of his neck.
I like affectionate-Bones.
"I just can't believe you've never watched the ball drop, Bones." He kisses the crown of her head.
"Well, I never really had anyone to watch it with," she tells him in all honesty, turning her face to look up at him.
Until now. Until me. I'm the man.
His mouth forms a small smile as he leans down to press a chaste kiss to her lips. Catching her eyes, his heart flutters and a deep ache erupts in his groin.
Relax, Booth. You don't jump in to bed right away in a strong, committed loving relationship. Well, YOU do. But most people don't. Especially Bones. You'll scare her off, so take it slow.
Her cheeks flush crimson as if she can read his thoughts and she quickly turns her attention back to the television screen. "Okay, so how long before the ball drops?" She asks.
Baseball. Bea Arthur. The Grand Canyon. Dr. Goodman in a dress. There we go.
"Five minutes," he replies, regaining his composure.
"I thought Dick Clark had a stroke."
What?
"He did. How did you know that?" He asks slightly shocked.
She quickly sits up and rolls her eyes. "Occasionally, I do read the newspaper, Booth. And I may be too young for Bandstand, which I'm sure was your favorite show, but I know who Dick Clark is." Her eyes flash and her nostrils flare.
God, she's hot when she's annoyed.
He stares at her for a moment, mouth open, ready to apologize when a slow smile comes to his face. "You read the book, didn't you?"
"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about," she tells him, throwing herself against the arm of the couch, keeping her knees beneath her and crossing her arms over her chest.
Uh huh.
"I said 'Come over and watch 'Dick Clark's Rockin' New Year's Eve' with me, and you looked him up in your book!"
"I did not!" She puts out her bottom lip in a way that's completely sexy and seductive and he gives a low throaty chuckle to hide his aroused groan.
"Bones, I gave you the book so you would use it. You don't have to be ashamed." He slides down the couch and wraps his arm around her shoulders.
She looks at him with a petulant smile. "I really did recognize the name. I just couldn't remember why he sounded so familiar."
That's my girl.
He gives her a wide grin. "That's because he's Dick Clark! The World's Oldest Teenager!"
She stares at him with a befuddled expression. "Well, that's simply not possible."
He laughs loudly, earning him a penetrating glare from his companion. "It's just a nickname."
"But it doesn't make any sense."
"It doesn't have to."
Lecture time. Distract her, Seeley.
"Teenager defines a person going through the teen years of life. The oldest teenager in the world is nineteen! It just doesn't make –". He cuts her off, his mouth colliding with her own. Immediately, her hands find their way to the back of his neck, and their lips mold together effortlessly as if they'd kissed a thousand times before.
She shifts positions next to him, and sits on her knees. His hands fall to her hips, desperately trying to pull her closer. His heart thumps wildly as she runs her hands over his shoulders and down his chest, stopping to rest briefly on his abs before returning to his cheeks to press his face more securely against her own. He slides one hand up the length of her body and gently brushes the side of her breast. She gasps into his mouth and arches toward him, startling him out of his revelry.
You said you'd take it slow. This is NOT slow. This is the opposite of SLOW.
"We should stop," he says, pulling away from her face, brushing the hair off her cheeks. "We shouldn't –". He pauses. "I— and you're –". He stumbles over his words, hoping she'll understand what he's trying to say. "It's only been a week."
She gives him a somewhat chagrined smile and nods, placing her hands on his shoulders, and pushing herself back against the arm of the couch.
Oh, thank God.
He quickly turns his attention back to the TV screen. "Besides the ball is about to drop," he tells her, as she pivots in her seat to face forward.
"So, aren't we just going to be doing that again?" She gives him a slow, sexy smile, and his heart melts, and his penis hardens, and he isn't quite sure what to do.
Knock it off.
He clears his throat and squirms in his seat in an attempt to hide his almost obvious arousal. "Well, yes," he responds, and she nods, a wide grin spreading across her face. It's completely infectious and he finds himself grinning like a fool at the woman he loves as the people on the TV begin to count down from sixty.
He leans forward to grab the glasses of champagne and hands one to her, before resting back against the couch, his arm finding its way around her shoulders once more. As they watch the clock tick down, they're both silent, thinking about the year that's gone and the year to come.
As the people in Time Square scream "zero" and Auld Lang Syne begins to play, he lifts his hand to her chin, and gently turns her face toward his. She smiles, leaning into him, brushing her lips against his.
"Happy New Year, Booth," she whispers against his mouth, before sucking his upper lip in between her own. Before he has the chance to respond, she pulls back and smiles, and a jolt of electricity shoots through his entire body.
"Happy New Year, Bones." He affectionately tucks a piece of hair behind her ear, stroking her cheek in the process. They clink their glasses together and each take a sip.
She gives a quick sideways glance to the TV, breaking contact for only a moment before turning back to him with a wide smile.
"12:01." She takes the glass out of his hand and places both on the coffee table.
Okay, well, maybe she doesn't understand the concept.
He quirks his eyebrows up. "The time doesn't matter anymore, Bones. It's just the time leading up to midnight that counts," he tells her in a soft, unoffending tone.
She rolls her eyes at him and pushes herself off the couch. "Yes, thank you, I have three PhDs. I know what New Year's is." She grabs his hand and attempts to pull him up.
"Where are we going?" He asks, interlacing their fingers and standing from the couch.
"It's 12:01."
"So, you said."
"We've been dating for eight days, which, in case you didn't know, is one day longer than a week. I counted Christmas because I didn't want to wait. Eight days is perfectly long enough." She gives him an exuberant smile and tugs his hand. "Come on."
Oh shit.
"Bones, are you sure about this? I mean, we can wait. I can wait. Forever, if you want." He pulls his hand out of hers and takes a step back.
She gives a deep sigh. "Okay, I was trying to go with my 'gut' like you, but apparently, you want to do this my way." She returns to the couch and takes a seat. "Let's rationalize." She tilts her head, gesturing for him to join her.
He cautiously takes his place next to her, their legs brushing together. As she turns to face him, he notices the expression she wears, the look she usually gets when she's trying to read bones, and he can't help but smirk.
"There are several reasons people in a relationship do not have sex, so let's go through and dissect them. If we can check them all off, then we're ready, okay?" she explains. He nods his head somewhat hesitantly.
"One: Love. Couples in a relationship like to wait until they love each other to have sex because they believe it is an action that expresses said sentiment. Well, I think we've pretty much established that we do in fact love each other. I love you and you love me, right?" She waits for his acknowledgement and all he can do is nod, completely shocked she didn't add that sex isn't about love.
No science.
"Okay, so that's settled. Two: they feel like they don't know each other well enough, that it's all too soon. Now, personally, I feel like we know each other pretty well. We've been partners for two years now, and you said it yourself, we've been doing this," she gestures between them, "for at least that long. You know me better than anyone. So, I feel pretty comfortable with this. Are you uncomfortable in any way?"
After what I've told you? After what we've shared?
"No," he chokes out.
She smiles and continues. "Okay. Three: Because they're unsure of their sexual status. Now, I know for certain that I'm not inflicted with any STDs or anything of that nature. So, if you're concerned about that, don't be."
"No, Bones. I wasn't thinking that."
"Well, what about you? Should I be worried?" Her face pales.
"No, definitely not Bones."
She narrows her eyes at him briefly and then nods slowly. "Four: People decide to wait to have sex because they want to build sexual chemistry. There is no…" She pauses for a moment, cocking her head to one side, looking him straight in the eye. "Spark."
Booth forces oxygen down his throat as he stares at her. "Clearly, we have no problem with that," he says.
"Never have." He smiles widely and she grins, which sends his entire body into overload.
"Five: One of the pair does not want to have sex. Since I'm initiating this whole thing, I think it's pretty clear what I want. What do you want?"
She thinks you don't want her. Nicely done. Make this better.
He releases a troubled sigh and turns his entire body to face her. Taking her hands in his, he sucks in a deep breath before responding. "I want you. I can't tell you how much, Bones. But I'm terrified that we're gonna go too fast and one day, you're gonna get scared and run. And I can't lose you, Bones. I won't. Not when I can stop it, not when I can say 'let's go slow' and keep you from getting scared and me from having to chase after you and both of our hearts from being broken." His mouth forms a sad smile. "We'll be sexually frustrated, but we'll be together and we'll be happy."
"You think by denying me sex, you're keeping me happy?" She lifts an eyebrow and smirks. "I know I'm not a relationship expert, but I'm fairly certain sex is instrumental in keeping those in a relationship happy."
"This isn't just sex to me, Bones," he tells her in all seriousness, his brown eyes searching her blue ones for understanding.
She looks down at their interlocked hands and takes in a deep breath. "I know."
"This means something to me."
Please tell me it means something to you. It has to.
She nods her head, chewing her bottom lip. "It means something to me too," she says softly. She lifts her chin to look at him. "I will probably never think of it the way you do, but I know that it's not the same."
She places her hands on the side of his face in a completely un-Bones type of action. "I can't promise you that I won't get scared, whether we go slowly or we go fast. But I will make you a deal. If I start to get apprehensive about our relationship or where we're going or how I'm feeling, I will talk to you first, before I do anything else."
Whoa. That's huge.
He hesitates for a moment, unsure if she's truly serious but he sees the resolute expression on her face and knows she means it. "Deal." He gives her a wide grin. "No 'anthropologically speaking', Bones. Not one extremely long word that I didn't understand."
She rolls her eyes. "I'm trying to do what you told me to do. I'm using my 'heart'," she tells him, using her fingers to air quote.
This is why I love her.
"Okay, let's move down our list," she says, beginning to tick things off on her fingers. "Love? Check. Comfortable? Check. Clean? Check. Sexual chemistry?"
He interrupts her. "Double Check." He places an open mouth kiss on her neck.
"Booth, I'm doing a list here."
He chuckles at her annoyed tone and throws his hands up in surrender.
"Where was I?" She puts her finger to her chin and taps it a few times. "Oh yes." She stands up and moves toward the hallway. Turning around in the entryway, she pauses, planting her hands on her hips. His head swivels, his eyes following her out of the room.
"Do you want me?"
Holy Mary Mother of God, yes.
A fire ignites in his belly as he jumps up and over the back of the couch and saunters towards her. He gives her his charm smile as he leans forward to capture her lips in his own, his fingers plowing through her auburn locks. She's caught slightly off guard and clutches his shirt to regain her balance, clenching the material in her fists.
Their lips press together, hot and passionate, and she emits a small moan that opens her mouth to his tongue. He slides it in, teasing and coaxing her. She responds with equal fervor, fingers pressing against the back of his neck, tongue dueling with his own, battling for dominance though neither really wants it.
Suddenly, he can't stop the urge to crush his body against hers. He finds her hips with his hands and pulls her flush against him, grinding his pelvis into her body. They both groan with satisfaction, their lips coming apart with an audible smack.
She lets out a contented sigh. "Definitely check."
His thrusts are deep, and his kisses are loving and erotic. She's verbally responsive to every move he makes, moaning with each stroke. She rakes her nails down his back and he pumps faster, her first name tumbling from his lips with a string of promises, and he never wants it to end. She begins to tremble, her legs wrapping around his waist, and he plunges so deep inside of her, his name, his first name is a shrill cry of ecstasy from her lips as she shakes and shudders. He let's go and groans a long deep primitive sound that reminds him more of an animal than a human being, and then collapses.
He lifts his head from her shoulder and kisses her, a deep, sensual kiss, and can't help but smile when she responds enthusiastically. He flops over on his back and she immediately snuggles into his chest.
Best ever.
He wraps his arms around her, pulling half her body over the top of his. "I love you, Booth," she whispers before placing a kiss to his chest.
His face splits into a huge grin, and he knows he'll never get tired of hearing her say that. "I love you too," he replies softly, running his hand through her hair.
"I still don't understand," she says to him after a moment.
"You don't understand what?"
"Oldest Teenager in the World just doesn't make sense," she says to him exasperatedly.
He let's a loud, hard laugh and she stares at him. He squeezes her tightly in his arms and closes his eyes again, his chuckles barely subsiding.
She lets out a frustrated sigh, poking his stomach. "Don't laugh at me," she tells him, which only makes him laugh more. "Really, Booth," she says, removing her body from his grasp and scooting to the other side of the bed. "You're such a child." She turns on her side, her back facing him.
Smirking, he quickly moves to the center of the bed and wraps an arm around her waist. He pulls her hard against him, her back pressed to his front, and begins kissing her neck. She turns her head to face his and gives him a tender kiss. They smile at each other before she rests her head back on the pillow, and he buries his face in her hair.
As he begins to think about the last few days, he smiles.
It's not going to be easy, he thinks as he slowly drifts off, but he always knew that. Being in love is not for kids.
He grins in his sleep.
Definitely not.
And that's where it ends. I know, I'm with you completely. The real Booth probably wouldn't just fall into bed a week after breaking up with Cam; however, in my defense, it was never anything special to him and it's my story and I needed him and Bones to go to bed together so I could bookend the story. Did you notice the bookends? Sort of ended the way it began! I was really excited about that, so even if you didn't notice, lie to me. Heh.
I really appreciate all of your support, advice and reviews! You guys have been great! Thanks to all those who put this story on alert, who have made it one of their favorites, and who have loyally read and reviewed. If you just read, thank you too!