Seeley Booth

[Considering how foul his mood had been that morning, it had actually turned out to be a pretty nice Valentine’s Day. The time at the shooting range with Bones had calmed some of the hurt and anger aggravated by the holiday...enough that, for one of the first times since ending things with Hannah, he didn’t have to fight to fall asleep that night.

He didn’t even dream. It was as if no time passed at all. One minute, he’d closed his eyes on the red, digital glare of his alarm clock, and the next-

There’s no mistaking the deafening crack of a gunshot. It’s so close--so terrifyingly close--that Booth wakes convinced that he’s been hit.

There’s panic, but there’s no time to indulge. Instead, he is the instant soldier, hands flying to his hip for his gun...only to find it’s not there. It’s not there and everything is wrong and what the hell is going on? He knows he maybe only has seconds to figure it out as he scrambles to his feet (barefoot. Why is he in a battlefield, barefoot?), and moves for the nearest cover (trees? Why the hell are there trees?).

It’s only in the silence that follows, listening to the rapid pounding of his own heart, that he starts to realize that something is very, very wrong. He leans back, trying to stay close to the tree, and flinches as newly added wings protest against the pressure.]

What the-?!

[There might be quite a bit of swearing and arguing happening as soon as Moran catches up with him enough to explain what the hell is going on]

[Later, once he’s calmed down...relatively speaking]

[Moran had directed him towards the village and actual clothes, but that hadn’t made Booth feel any less furious. The voice that comes over the journal is clipped and almost wry, anger audible...but tightly controlled]

Okay. Whatever genius thought that kidnapping a federal agent and playing dressup was a good idea, I’m telling you right now. I’m not laughing. I’ve heard a lot of crazy things coming out of this book...thing...and I’ve had just about enough. No more fairy tales. No more crazy, hallucination-induced, looney-bin stories. I want the truth. Now. And one more thing:

I want my badge. I want my gun. And, if you tell me how to get these wings off, I might not even shoot you with it.

[The agent can be found pacing in front of the Welcome Center, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, and fuming as he waits for responses]

[OOC: First tag, chronologically, goes to Sebastian Moran who was hunting in the forest. All other replies will come after Booth’s relocated into town]

[from here...]

[She leans against his hand, closing her eyes just for a second. It always felt nice to have him touch her. It feels nice right now. Safe. The sanity in the storm of impossibilities within the castle.

And so she smiles and nods again.] Okay.

[And this time? This time she's not going to wait. Placing her own hand over his, she closes that space between him and seeks out his mouth for another kiss - one that is anything but chaste from the moment their lips meet.]

[there's more they need to discuss, but as her mouth finds his any thought of attempting it flies right out of his head. His fingers sliding back to tangle in her hair once more, his free arm slides around her waist, pulling her flush against him, not wanting to leave even a bit of space between them.]

[She lets him mold her to him, moving on to her knees to straddle him as they continue to kiss. There's little space between them, and for a brief second, she wonders if Booth intends to attempt breaking the laws of physics. She can feel his body heat envelope her, his heart beating loudly in his chest and she thrusts her tongue into his mouth, needing to taste him again, needing to occupy every last bit of space between them.

Maybe there is more they need to discuss, but isn't there a saying that says actions speak louder than words? And right now, it's impossible to interpret Brennan's actions as anything but a desperate attempt to make up for six years of UST in ways they couldn't possibly begin to explore back home.]

[he groans a little into the kiss as she straddles him, his teeth lightly scraping her lip before he pulls back...just enough to press his forehead to hers. Just enough to catch his breath. 

His hands slide down her sides to nestle at her waist, fingers pressing into the soft curve of her hip. Even pulled away, he can feel her breath, warm and sweet and mingling with his as he steadies himself. Just for a moment. And then he moves to lift her, strong arms holding her steady as he gets to his feet to carry her to the bedroom.]

[She moans in disappointment when he pulls back, blinking rapidly as she stares into his eyes. Her chest is heaving as she works on catching her own breath, biologically understanding the need for this pause even as everything else within her objects.

But when he lifts her up and she has no choice but to wrap her arms around his neck and legs around his waist, she laughs in surprise. It's a carefree laugh as she shakes her head.]

I can walk, Booth!

[it's the kind of laugh that immediately draws a smile from him, never mind the urgency of the moment. Never mind how fast his pulse is beating at the very possibility of her. That laugh gets one in return, his words an amused murmur by her ear]

Then I'd have to let go of you.

[and that wasn't an option]