A/N : You know how hysterical I am about BB moments. Yes, I'm talking about these awesome last 2-3 minutes of each episode. So let's pretend that we had more than 43 minutes; that Booth was a little less shy, because don't tell me you didn't realize he has now accepted the idea of being in love with his partner (I mean, at least, since the beginning of season 3); that we can read their mind; and that we (at least, I) have the power to make them do what we want.
I don't own the dialogs I stole from the episode. I'll never change anything; only add descriptions, thoughts, feelings. And continue the scene with what could have happened after.
Each chapter with be about each episode of season 3.
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Chapter 1 : Hot coffee ('The Widow's son in the Windshield')
"Hodgins was right. This killer's part of something bigger."
Booth repressed a sigh, hoping that now she had sat herself down on the bench beside him, she'd stop rambling about the case; and pay attention to him. It may be childish, but it was the truth. Seeley Booth really needed a little attention from his partner, right now – not much, just enough to reassure him.
"Here's your coffee", Booth said, holding her one of the Styrofoam cups he had carried from the store.
But, lost in her thoughts, she didn't turn her gaze to him.
He was pretty sure that had they been walking for miles, she would have followed him without being aware of it. And if he had plunged into the fountain, she would have gone in with him. But, hey, how bad could it be, bathing with Bones in the fountain?
He suddenly found himself acting like a school boy dreaming during biology class. At any moment she could ask him what he 'thought about this', and he'd pass as a dolt, as usual.
"Gavin Nichols' violin was in there. I bet there are belongings from other murder victims, too. We have to catalogue every item in that vault."
Her voice was just a buzz in his ears; he couldn't concentrate. It had to be because of the lack of caffeine in his system. All he wanted was for her to take this damn cup of coffee – maybe she'd even thank him and give her one of her special smiles that made him feel dizzy, but he didn't count much on this - so that he would be able to drink his own one. If she intended to continue her scientific talk, he was really going to need it.
"Hot coffee", he tried again.
Again, her eyes fixing on some indefinite point in the space where her thoughts seemed to be, Brennan did not make a move to take the cup. He would have been too lucky. He even wondered if she was actually talking to him. The scientific stuff was going to flow from her lips very soon. He could almost feel it now. Jeez… He had been spending too much time with squints… Was he emotionally connected to them or something? Creepy… Well, unless when it came to Bones.
"After we do a visual and microscopic examination of each human bone in the silver skeleton, we'll take samples and do an in-depth axiological breakdown. We really have a lot to do."
Told ya.
He moved the cup of coffee closer to her.
"Yeah, starting with coffee."
At last, she took it. Lost in her thoughts as she was, he wondered if she would have noticed if he had given her hot coke instead of coffee, and how many gulps would have been necessary for her to realise what she was drinking and spit it out.
He was staring at her, but not listening; her voice sounded so far. It felt so good to be sitting on this bench, just the two of them, after he had been running after her for weeks. He wasn't convinced that this sudden change in her behaviour had anything to do with Zack's return – he had never believed in this, it was just a lame excuse to avoid him – but she was there, now.
The place was beautiful and quiet. It seemed like she would never stop talking, but God, she was gorgeous. And she was dangerously moving her cup of coffee to her lips. Crisis situation. He couldn't have pulled her out of the sand when she had been buried alive by the Grave Digger and let her burn herself with stupid coffee now.
"An isotope profile will allow us to narrow down possible geographical..."
In a fast, not fully-considered gesture, he placed his hand over the cup, just before the hot liquid made contact with her soft lips.
"Hey, it's hot!"
It was the side of his hand, instead, which her lips touched. She did not make a move, but turned her eyes to him. At least, he had caught her attention, and she was silent now. Wait… Her lips were touching the side of his hand? God. She was kissing his hand, wasn't she? Or sort of…
Their eyes met. What could she possibly be thinking at this second?
She put the cup down, slowly, not averting her surprised gaze from him. All right. Definite awkward moment.
"You're going to burn yourself, Bones", he managed to utter in a hoarse voice. Why did he feel the need to justify himself as if he had done something wrong?
"Thank you", she said simply.
He moved his hand off of the cup, and turned his head. Find something to say, change the subject. Quickly.
"Listen, this whole serial killer... it's not going to be our usual case."
"Why?"
"Why? Because it's big and he's bad."
"I don't see what difference that makes."
"Because you have to slow down. All right? Take a breath. You have to realise that this is not a sprint, it's gonna be a marathon. Marathon, Bones, coming from the Greek, meaning really, really, really long run."
"It's not how the word "marathon" originated."
God. Why does she always feel obliged to… Booth sighed slightly. Never mind.
"Look, there's something else I got to know, and it's important", he said with a serious tone. "We solid?"
"You and me? Yeah."
"No, not just you and me. The squints, too. Zack is back for good. Angela and Hodgins have their head back in the game. Cam, she's locked in."
"Why are you asking me this?"
"Because... you and me, we're the centre."
Through the look which spread across her features, he knew that she understood.
"And the centre must hold", she completed.
That's my girl.
"Right, so... are we gonna hold?"
"Yeah. We'll hold." She smiled, apparently loving this idea. And he loved her loving it. "We're the centre."
"The centre", he repeated. He had never realised how fond he was of this word, if it was them who it was referring to.
She presented him her hand, as if to seal an agreement, and during a couple of seconds, it reminded him of the cup of coffee. He took her hand and shook it, but couldn't help laughing.
"What's funny?" she asked, puzzled.
"I thought you were gonna kiss my hand again."
"I did not kiss your hand. You put it over my coffee cup", she protested, illustrating her words by an amusing gesture.
He rubbed his chin and cleared his throat, averting his gaze from her, pretending he was less affected than he actually was.
"Felt like you kissed it", he teased.
"No", she said, staring at the fountain.
Man, she did feel uncomfortable.
"Felt like it", he insisted.
He couldn't help it. It was so good to see this crimson color on her cheeks.
"No."
He glanced at her. Oh yeah, no doubt, she was blushing.
He smirked as he saw her taking a sip of coffee - desperate attempt at begging him to stop titillating her - and then he did the same.
Don't think I'm finished with you, Bones.
"I'm sorry I made you feel uncomfortable", he said, having a hard time repressing a smile.
"I do not feel uncomfortable", she retorted in a neutral tone – or what she thought was one.
He chuckled. "Oh yes, you do." Gotta admit it, Bones.
"No, I'm not", she said before swallowing another sip of coffee.
"I bet you are."
She huffed, moving her cup down onto her lap.
"Stop it, Booth! What are you, a twelve-year-old?" she snapped, eying him with annoyance.
Touchy, he noted with satisfaction. Wasn't it the proof of her embarrassment?
Sparks of anger were present in her eyes, and her lips were pouting. Aw, those lips.
Twelve years old? Yeah, maybe. So what?
Not letting his eyes off of her until the very last moment, he leaned towards her and pressed his lips against hers – long enough to become intoxicated with her scent and her smoothness, but short enough to still be able to stop.
One more second and he would have been incapable of letting go of her. Each part of him that had been touching her, each fragment of his lips and skin, were as if on fire.
He turned his gaze back to the expanse of water, or the buildings further ahead, or maybe the sky – whatever – and moved his cup to his lips, reluctantly. Somehow, he was afraid that the coffee would clean his lips of the taste of her.
"You can stop being embarrassed now. We're even."
He swallowed another sip of coffee, for now he was sure that nothing would wash the feeling of her lips against his. And he hoped that it would help him bear the knot in his stomach which hadn't dissolved as he had been expecting, but had got even stronger.
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A/N : So what did you think? Want me to continue with episode 2?