I Want to Hold Your Hand--posted by anaG on 10/9/2007

by redrider Fri Jun 13, 2008 11:52 am

My entry for the latest challenge...let's see...Beatles inspiration ("I Want to Hold Your Hand")...blush...friendship/BB...syrup...gutter okay...here we go...hope you enjoy! --Ana

***

He tries to follow what she is saying about the case. But he can’t seem to stop his eyes from drifting down to the top of the table—to the place where her hand is casually resting near his own. A slight shift to the right...that is all that it would take for his hand to cover hers, to feel the warmth of her skin beneath his palm….to be able to trace his fingers against hers and feel the tiny shivers run through her at the contact. He can almost…he does, feel the electricity crossing the small separation between them, running along the nerves of his arm, straight to the center of his chest.

He watches, as if on its own volition, his hand moves incrementally closer to hers. Rationally, he knows this is not the best idea…but deep inside he knows that at this moment…all he wants to do is hold her…

***

Her hand comes up from the table, moving back and forth slowly in front of his eyes.

“Booth? Are you listening to a word that…?”

He is jerked back to the reality of the bustling diner, to the slightly annoyed expression on her face. Leaning back in his chair, he crosses his arms across his chest, as if putting the distance between them will help restore some reasoned clarity to his thoughts.

He attempts a charm smile, hoping to distract her from the fact that he hadn’t heard a single word over the last several minutes., but the effort is weak in the aftershocks of the images that had been running through his mind. Every time something like this happens, it becomes more and more difficult to maintain his…

She notices that something is not right, and leans forward, concern immediately replacing her irritation.

“Is something wrong?”

He reaches out, fidgeting with his fork, hoping that the contact with the ordinary object would help ground him before he looks up to meet her eyes.

“Umm, no Bones. Sorry…I was just thinking….”

He scrambles for some acceptable response, watching as the pause in his words generates a familiar curiosity on her face.

“About…what exactly Booth? Or do I have to guess?” Her teasing tone doesn’t hide the fact that the need to know is eating at her. No…he knew she didn’t like being kept in the dark any more than she liked having someone’s attention wander…

“About…dessert.” He winces inwardly as he blurts out the words. Dessert?

Committed now, he takes a deep breath and forges ahead. “Um…I was just thinking that maybe we could grab some ice cream, maybe...and I don’t know…maybe take a walk, talk about the case some more…”

His words trail off as he looks down at the table, embarrassed by his own fumbling.

“Sure, Booth. Ice cream and a walk sounds…good.”

He looks up, startled by her quick acquiescence. He’s almost suspicious that she’s humoring him, but looking in her eyes, he sees….

Without realizing it, a full-wattage charm smile takes over his face, reaching his eyes. Without looking away from her he motions for the waitress….“Great…ice cream it is then .”

***

The two of them walk down the sidewalk, slowly making their way to a small park in the near distance. He looks over at her in amusement, watching as she digs her spoon into the large cup of ice cream that she is holding.

“So, Bones….like a little ice cream with your chocolate syrup, do you?”

She stops walking and turns to him, indignant. “What? This is a normal, standard ice cream sundae, Booth!”

He raises his eyebrows, nodding at the concoction that she is holding. Following his eyes, she looks down at the scoop of vanilla ice cream barely discernible beneath what now seems like a sea of dark chocolate.

She looks up at him, her cheeks turning red. “I suppose I did get a little carried away….I should know better, all of this sugar is not very nutriti…”

Feeling a pang at having caused her embarrassment, he gently places a hand on her shoulder.

“Hey…Bones. It’s alright…there are times when everyone wants…a little something more….”

His words fade as he realizes what he has said, as he sees that she understands that he was not simply talking about…

“Chocolate….so today, for you…it’s chocolate syrup. That’s all….nothing wrong with that, right?”

He wills himself to slow down, but the words just keep tumbling out.

“So enjoy it…no guilt.”

“Oooh-kay, Booth. No guilt, I promise.”

She resumes walking, and for a moment he lets her go ahead, unable to believe that he had just acted like some gawky pre-teen on a first date. What was wrong with him?

Noticing that he is not beside her, she turns back, searching for him. When she finds him, her eyes meeting his, she shakes her head and then….smiles. Even as he tries to ignore the jolt that smile sends straight through him, he hurries to catch up to her.

***

At the next corner, they pause as she takes a last bite of her sundae before tossing the cup into a trashcan. Then, looking in both directions, the two of them step off the edge of the sidewalk, moving across the street toward the park entrance. As they approach the curb, he looks down and notices a thick, oily slick of mud in the gutter, directly in the her path. Without thinking, he reaches and grabs her hand, moving her to the left of the mess as they both step onto the sidewalk. His haste to act, coupled with her surprise, makes the movement awkward, pulling her against the length of his body.

The contact seems to stun them both, leaving them unable to move and unable to hide their response to the sensations. For now, they are both able to recognize their own emotions… their own needs…in the eyes of the other….

The loud rumble of a passing truck intrudes, breaking the connection between them. Startled by the intensity of their reactions, they move apart slightly, then resume their walk without saying a word.

After a few minutes, she tentatively breaks the silence between them.

“Booth?”

“Yeah, Bones?”

“Why are you still holding my hand?”

He looks down, taking in the sight of her hand enveloped in his, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath his palm.

“Because...because I want to.”

“You want…to hold my hand?”

His shifts his hand…and as he slides his fingers between hers, he feels the tiny shivers run through her at the contact…feels the electricity running along the nerves of his arm, straight to the center of his chest. Just as he’d imagined.

“Yes, Temperance...I want to hold your hand.”

He waits, preparing himself for another question…for her to pull away from him…for her to be…

He feels her hand tighten against his, then the light brush of her thumb against the inside of his wrist.

“Me too.”