A Match Made in Lisdoonvarna
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mereva
Cassiopeia
ToZiKa
ForensicMama
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:: Fanfiction
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A Match Made in Lisdoonvarna
Chapter 1: Sealing the Deal
If you're Irish, then please forgive my faux pas on behalf of your country. I'm bound to make mistakes in the details, but I promise that this will be fun.
--------------------------------
Once a year a sleepy little spa town on the west coast of Ireland awakens to the hum of romance. Matchmaking is an old tradition in Lisdoonvarna, County Clare.
Angela kept reading the entry on the website. "Matchmaking Festival, huh?" An evil glint in her eye could only be seen by those who knew her best. Actually, in all honesty, not even her best friend would be able to tell what was spinning in her head.
Only one man could.
"What's going on...?" Hodgins asked suspiciously.
Angela jumped with a start. She didn't know that anybody had been spying on her. "J-sus, Jack! You scared the sh-t out of me."
Hodgins only grinned and walked toward her desk. "What evil plans are spinning in that pretty little head of yours?"
Angela took a minute to consider the negative and positive side effects of confiding in Hodgins. She looked around, hopped up and closed the door, effectively shutting themselves in her office. "Bren is going to Ireland next week to identify a bunch of dudes they dug up in peat bogs."
Hodgins crossed his arms and shook his head slowly, as if to say, I don't get it. "And...?"
Angela only looked annoyed. "I think we should go, too."
Hodgins shrugged. "Irish vacation. Sounds awesome to me. But why would Dr. B let us tag along?"
"Because I can be very persuasive if I have to... and if Bren has had a couple of drinks."
"And why would you want to go?"
"Facial reconstruction?"
"And me?"
"Bugs and dirt. Peat is all dirt, babe."
Hodgins took several more steps toward his fiancé. "I don't think so." He took her into his arms, wrapping his arms around her waist.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, that that's not why you want us to go. What's up, Ange?"
Angela relented and led Hodgins over to the laptop by his hand. "Irish Matchmaking Festival."
Hodgins grinned and wrapped his arms around her once again. He kissed her gently, his hands on either side of her face. "I think that we did a pretty good job. No old Irish chick with a crystal ball could do any better."
Angela kissed him back. "Not for me. For Bren."
Hodgins took a step back. "What about Tom?"
Angela rolled her eyes. "He's gotta have a huge schlong cuz that guy is about as exciting as a can of lima beans."
Hodgins laughed, "So a stranger in Ireland might be better?"
Angela shook her head. "No. I was thinking more along the lines of Booth." Then her grin grew wider.
Now it was Jack's turn to roll his eyes. "Give me a break. Those two have been dancing around one another for G-d knows how long. Some Irish festival isn't going to change their minds."
Angela crossed her arms. "Not if I have anything to do with it."
Hodgins crossed his arms. "You're my Aphrodite. I get that. But maybe Dr. Brennan and Agent Booth just don’t think of each other like that. Otherwise they would've spanked the monkey long ago."
"Like I said, if I can get us to go along, then I bet that I could change things up a bit."
"Honey, that's impossible, really--"
"Is that a bet?"
Hodgins was taken aback. "What?"
"A bet. That sounds like a bet to me, Jack Hodgins. I bet that I can get Brennan to admit her feelings for Booth."
"That's a one-sided bet, hon--"
"Then how about you try to get Booth to admit his feelings for Bren? Loser has to run naked through the streets of Lisdoonvarna on the last day of the matchmaking festival."
Hodgins thought it over for a second. On one side, he could walk away from the whole bet. On the other end, leaving Angela hanging was never a good idea. She could be scary when she was mad. Also, on that same end, watching Angela run naked through Lisdoonvarna could be a real turn-on. "Deal."
"Deal."
They shook on it. Then they kissed on it. Then they pulled the blinds and did some other things to seal the deal.
If you're Irish, then please forgive my faux pas on behalf of your country. I'm bound to make mistakes in the details, but I promise that this will be fun.
--------------------------------
Once a year a sleepy little spa town on the west coast of Ireland awakens to the hum of romance. Matchmaking is an old tradition in Lisdoonvarna, County Clare.
Angela kept reading the entry on the website. "Matchmaking Festival, huh?" An evil glint in her eye could only be seen by those who knew her best. Actually, in all honesty, not even her best friend would be able to tell what was spinning in her head.
Only one man could.
"What's going on...?" Hodgins asked suspiciously.
Angela jumped with a start. She didn't know that anybody had been spying on her. "J-sus, Jack! You scared the sh-t out of me."
Hodgins only grinned and walked toward her desk. "What evil plans are spinning in that pretty little head of yours?"
Angela took a minute to consider the negative and positive side effects of confiding in Hodgins. She looked around, hopped up and closed the door, effectively shutting themselves in her office. "Bren is going to Ireland next week to identify a bunch of dudes they dug up in peat bogs."
Hodgins crossed his arms and shook his head slowly, as if to say, I don't get it. "And...?"
Angela only looked annoyed. "I think we should go, too."
Hodgins shrugged. "Irish vacation. Sounds awesome to me. But why would Dr. B let us tag along?"
"Because I can be very persuasive if I have to... and if Bren has had a couple of drinks."
"And why would you want to go?"
"Facial reconstruction?"
"And me?"
"Bugs and dirt. Peat is all dirt, babe."
Hodgins took several more steps toward his fiancé. "I don't think so." He took her into his arms, wrapping his arms around her waist.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, that that's not why you want us to go. What's up, Ange?"
Angela relented and led Hodgins over to the laptop by his hand. "Irish Matchmaking Festival."
Hodgins grinned and wrapped his arms around her once again. He kissed her gently, his hands on either side of her face. "I think that we did a pretty good job. No old Irish chick with a crystal ball could do any better."
Angela kissed him back. "Not for me. For Bren."
Hodgins took a step back. "What about Tom?"
Angela rolled her eyes. "He's gotta have a huge schlong cuz that guy is about as exciting as a can of lima beans."
Hodgins laughed, "So a stranger in Ireland might be better?"
Angela shook her head. "No. I was thinking more along the lines of Booth." Then her grin grew wider.
Now it was Jack's turn to roll his eyes. "Give me a break. Those two have been dancing around one another for G-d knows how long. Some Irish festival isn't going to change their minds."
Angela crossed her arms. "Not if I have anything to do with it."
Hodgins crossed his arms. "You're my Aphrodite. I get that. But maybe Dr. Brennan and Agent Booth just don’t think of each other like that. Otherwise they would've spanked the monkey long ago."
"Like I said, if I can get us to go along, then I bet that I could change things up a bit."
"Honey, that's impossible, really--"
"Is that a bet?"
Hodgins was taken aback. "What?"
"A bet. That sounds like a bet to me, Jack Hodgins. I bet that I can get Brennan to admit her feelings for Booth."
"That's a one-sided bet, hon--"
"Then how about you try to get Booth to admit his feelings for Bren? Loser has to run naked through the streets of Lisdoonvarna on the last day of the matchmaking festival."
Hodgins thought it over for a second. On one side, he could walk away from the whole bet. On the other end, leaving Angela hanging was never a good idea. She could be scary when she was mad. Also, on that same end, watching Angela run naked through Lisdoonvarna could be a real turn-on. "Deal."
"Deal."
They shook on it. Then they kissed on it. Then they pulled the blinds and did some other things to seal the deal.
Last edited by ForensicMama on Tue Sep 23, 2008 8:49 am; edited 3 times in total
Re: A Match Made in Lisdoonvarna
sounds like fun
ToZiKa- Prosecutor
- Number of posts : 37397
Say What You Want : It's been great and I'll never forget this place! Thanks Lindsey!
Registration date : 2008-06-14
Re: A Match Made in Lisdoonvarna
Chapter 2: Bait N Switch
Brennan sat at her desk replying to emails from grad students. They were in the midst of midterms, so as usual the students came out of the woodwork suddenly wanting help in class.
Dear Mr. Whitley,
I am extremely disappointed in the fact that you have waited until the final week of class to express your concern in regards to your poor grades. I hate to break it to you, but even with my undivided attention in a one-on-one tutoring session, your grades will hardly raise above a passing D+ cumulative--
“Jeez, Bones.”
Brennan looked up. She hadn’t noticed Booth hanging over her shoulder. “What?”
“Little harsh, don’t you think?”
“What? I’m not being harsh. I’m simply being straightforward. Mark Whitley has skipped 6 classes this semester—that’s the max, by the way—and he has failed to turn in five assignments and has missed three quizzes. I’m simply…”
“Bones, just… cool it, OK? Maybe Mr. Whitley here had his grandma die or something? Maybe he’s all depressed about that.”
Brennan leaned back away from her computer with a half-annoyed, half-amused look on her face. “As a matter of fact, Mark Whitley’s grandmother has died.”
“There you go, see?”
“She’s died three times, Booth.”
Booth’s face pinched. “That’s just plain bad luck.”
Brennan rolled her eyes. “Booth. That’s not bad luck, that’s being a lazy student. Why are you here anyway?”
Booth took a seat, pulling a chair up to hers. “Ireland.”
“I still don’t see why you have to come. I’m not stupid. I know you weaseled your way into this one, Booth.”
“Maybe, maybe not.”
“Well, you’re lucky, because I don’t mind that you’re coming. There’s only one forensic anthropologist in the whole of Ireland.”
“So?”
“So, Gearóid Malachy is away on a dig in Quito, Ecuador, so I don’t know anybody. You will be there to relieve the social pressures to speak when I’d rather be mute, be friends when I’d rather be alone. You get the idea.”
“I get the idea.” At that moment, Booth produced a Donegal tweed cap and put it on his head. It took every ounce of strength to keep from bursting into laughter when she saw him with that hat on. “Huh? Huh?”
Brennan snatched the hat off his head, which he tried desperately to retrieve back from her.
“Bones!” He snatched it back and put it on his head. “If you wanted one, all you had to was ask.” His eyes twinkled with mischief.
“Huh?”
And with that Booth produced a matching cap and put it on her head. “You look cute, Bones.”
She could only smile at him and their eyes met for several seconds.
Angela and Hodgins marched into the office. Booth and Brennan leapt apart.
“Cute hats, guys. Listen, Hodgins and I need to talk to you two. We’re going with you to Ireland. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. End of story. The end. No discussion.”
“You look like my grandparents,” Hodgins inspected the two partners in matching caps with a raised brow.
Brennan took the hat off and set it on the desk, then smoothed her hair.
“Ange, why would you want to come with us? To be honest, I don’t even need Booth—“
“Except for conversation,” Booth pointed out.
“Except for conversation. I am pretty sure that you would be of more use here with the Angelator in case I need you to do some 3D renderings.”
Angela shook her head adamantly. “Nope. That won’t do, Bren. I’ve created a portable device. One that I can take along with us with reasonable ease. Listen, Bren. You need me. Trust me on this.”
Brennan’s eyes went to Hodgins. “And why do I need Dr. Hodgins, then?”
“Hodgie will tag along for soil analysis. You know that peat is just dirt, dirt, dirt, right?”
Booth and Brennan exchanged looks. To be honest, Brennan didn’t mind the whole idea. She had only been to Ireland once and had hung out with Dr. Malachy the entire time. This would be very different. And then there was something else. She couldn’t shake this feeling of sadness that had followed her around since Zack’s arrest. It had clung to her like a black cloud for almost a year and a half. Maybe being in a new atmosphere with a group of friends would be relaxing….
As long as nobody was murdered while they were vacationing, of course.
And, like they say, lightning never strikes twice in the same spot, right?
What are the chances?
Brennan relented. “Fine. You and Hodgins may come along. We’re leaving right after I grade my midterms. Our flight leaves Saturday at 3 AM. We’re taking Continental.”
Angela’s face lit up like a child’s on Christmas day. “Alright! I’ll go purchase the tickets. C’mon, Jack.” She dragged him away. As she walked out of sight, she could be heard saying, “I thought I’d have to drug her!”
Booth stood up and picked up Brennan’s hat from the desk and placed it back on her head. “I’ll talk to you later, Bones.” He took several steps toward the door, then turned toward her. “Hey, and… maybe Mr. Whitley just likes to have fun? Fun’s not a crime.” He winked, then walked out of sight.
Dear Mr. Whitley,
I am available between the hours of four and seven at the Medico-Legal Lab. I would be glad to tutor you on the issues concerning dental microware and the diseases surrounding mandibular osteology. Please be aware that I will be hospitable only if you have a true passion for forensic anthropology. Please come prepared and well-studied on the subject. Only then can we get anywhere during our tutoring session.
Dr. Brennan
Brennan sat at her desk replying to emails from grad students. They were in the midst of midterms, so as usual the students came out of the woodwork suddenly wanting help in class.
Dear Mr. Whitley,
I am extremely disappointed in the fact that you have waited until the final week of class to express your concern in regards to your poor grades. I hate to break it to you, but even with my undivided attention in a one-on-one tutoring session, your grades will hardly raise above a passing D+ cumulative--
“Jeez, Bones.”
Brennan looked up. She hadn’t noticed Booth hanging over her shoulder. “What?”
“Little harsh, don’t you think?”
“What? I’m not being harsh. I’m simply being straightforward. Mark Whitley has skipped 6 classes this semester—that’s the max, by the way—and he has failed to turn in five assignments and has missed three quizzes. I’m simply…”
“Bones, just… cool it, OK? Maybe Mr. Whitley here had his grandma die or something? Maybe he’s all depressed about that.”
Brennan leaned back away from her computer with a half-annoyed, half-amused look on her face. “As a matter of fact, Mark Whitley’s grandmother has died.”
“There you go, see?”
“She’s died three times, Booth.”
Booth’s face pinched. “That’s just plain bad luck.”
Brennan rolled her eyes. “Booth. That’s not bad luck, that’s being a lazy student. Why are you here anyway?”
Booth took a seat, pulling a chair up to hers. “Ireland.”
“I still don’t see why you have to come. I’m not stupid. I know you weaseled your way into this one, Booth.”
“Maybe, maybe not.”
“Well, you’re lucky, because I don’t mind that you’re coming. There’s only one forensic anthropologist in the whole of Ireland.”
“So?”
“So, Gearóid Malachy is away on a dig in Quito, Ecuador, so I don’t know anybody. You will be there to relieve the social pressures to speak when I’d rather be mute, be friends when I’d rather be alone. You get the idea.”
“I get the idea.” At that moment, Booth produced a Donegal tweed cap and put it on his head. It took every ounce of strength to keep from bursting into laughter when she saw him with that hat on. “Huh? Huh?”
Brennan snatched the hat off his head, which he tried desperately to retrieve back from her.
“Bones!” He snatched it back and put it on his head. “If you wanted one, all you had to was ask.” His eyes twinkled with mischief.
“Huh?”
And with that Booth produced a matching cap and put it on her head. “You look cute, Bones.”
She could only smile at him and their eyes met for several seconds.
Angela and Hodgins marched into the office. Booth and Brennan leapt apart.
“Cute hats, guys. Listen, Hodgins and I need to talk to you two. We’re going with you to Ireland. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. End of story. The end. No discussion.”
“You look like my grandparents,” Hodgins inspected the two partners in matching caps with a raised brow.
Brennan took the hat off and set it on the desk, then smoothed her hair.
“Ange, why would you want to come with us? To be honest, I don’t even need Booth—“
“Except for conversation,” Booth pointed out.
“Except for conversation. I am pretty sure that you would be of more use here with the Angelator in case I need you to do some 3D renderings.”
Angela shook her head adamantly. “Nope. That won’t do, Bren. I’ve created a portable device. One that I can take along with us with reasonable ease. Listen, Bren. You need me. Trust me on this.”
Brennan’s eyes went to Hodgins. “And why do I need Dr. Hodgins, then?”
“Hodgie will tag along for soil analysis. You know that peat is just dirt, dirt, dirt, right?”
Booth and Brennan exchanged looks. To be honest, Brennan didn’t mind the whole idea. She had only been to Ireland once and had hung out with Dr. Malachy the entire time. This would be very different. And then there was something else. She couldn’t shake this feeling of sadness that had followed her around since Zack’s arrest. It had clung to her like a black cloud for almost a year and a half. Maybe being in a new atmosphere with a group of friends would be relaxing….
As long as nobody was murdered while they were vacationing, of course.
And, like they say, lightning never strikes twice in the same spot, right?
What are the chances?
Brennan relented. “Fine. You and Hodgins may come along. We’re leaving right after I grade my midterms. Our flight leaves Saturday at 3 AM. We’re taking Continental.”
Angela’s face lit up like a child’s on Christmas day. “Alright! I’ll go purchase the tickets. C’mon, Jack.” She dragged him away. As she walked out of sight, she could be heard saying, “I thought I’d have to drug her!”
Booth stood up and picked up Brennan’s hat from the desk and placed it back on her head. “I’ll talk to you later, Bones.” He took several steps toward the door, then turned toward her. “Hey, and… maybe Mr. Whitley just likes to have fun? Fun’s not a crime.” He winked, then walked out of sight.
Dear Mr. Whitley,
I am available between the hours of four and seven at the Medico-Legal Lab. I would be glad to tutor you on the issues concerning dental microware and the diseases surrounding mandibular osteology. Please be aware that I will be hospitable only if you have a true passion for forensic anthropology. Please come prepared and well-studied on the subject. Only then can we get anywhere during our tutoring session.
Dr. Brennan
Re: A Match Made in Lisdoonvarna
that was really easy.....I thought Angela would need to persuade her or really drug her....
and of course she is listening to Booth.....even when it is about her students.....
and of course she is listening to Booth.....even when it is about her students.....
ToZiKa- Prosecutor
- Number of posts : 37397
Say What You Want : It's been great and I'll never forget this place! Thanks Lindsey!
Registration date : 2008-06-14
Re: A Match Made in Lisdoonvarna
Chapter 3: The Flight
Brennan looked nervously at her wristwatch, then watched the doors. “Where are they?”
Booth took a seat on a nearby chair and helped her keep an eye out. “Maybe Ange had to stop and buy another suitcase?”
Brennan looked down at him, then sat beside him. “We’re supposed to check-in in five minutes.”
At that moment, Angela and Hodgins came into sight. Hodgins had a bag under each armpit, and dragged bags behind him as well. Angela carried a purse. “Sweetie! I’m so excited! I was so bummed that you two got to go to England last summer without us.”
Angela wrapped her arms around Brennan, then eyed Booth, winked at him, then began to walk toward check-in.
“Got enough bags?” Booth asked Hodgins.
“Apparently not,” Hodgins whispered. Angela and Brennan began checking in their luggage. Hodgins dropped them off then walked out of ear-shot with Booth. “Listen, man, I was hoping to talk to you about, um, women.”
Booth looked amused. He didn’t know it, but Hodgins was desperately trying to get out of his comfort zone and do the girl talk thing with a guy. “Havin’ trouble with the Mrs.?”
“No, no. Nothing like that. I was just…” He sighed. “Never mind.”
Booth raised a brow. “OK, dude. Whenever you wanna talk.”
Brennan and Angela walked back. Brennan was waving tickets with a confused look on her face.
“What’s up, Bones?”
“They screwed up our tickets. They reassigned you to First Class, Booth.”
Booth grinned and grabbed the ticket. “Happy accident! Yes!”
“I just don’t get it. When I bought the tickets, you had coach and I had First Class.”
Booth looked annoyed, “Gee, thanks, Bones.”
“You only gave me enough money for a coach, Booth. I didn’t want to insult you by buying a more expensive ticket with my own money just so we could fly next to each other.”
Angela and Hodgins exchanged amused glances that went unnoticed by Booth and Brennan.
“I wouldn’t have minded, Bones. I just wish you’d told me. I would have paid the extra money so we were together.”
The flight was relatively uneventful. Booth was thoroughly pleased with the extra attention that First Class served up. Pillows, hot meals, slippers, champagne. So much better than the cold hamburgers heated up in the microwave and Pepsi in the can of Coach.
Angela and Hodgins sat several seats behind them. Ange made a move to stand. Hodgins grabbed her elbow, “Where are you going?”
“Phase Two of Operation Matchmaker.” Angela stood, Hodgins only sat back. He had a feeling that he was going to be the one who was going to run naked through Lindoosvarna. And yet, there didn’t seem to be anything wrong with that whole idea.
Angela found a stewardess. “Excuse me, but my friends in A2 and A3 wanted me to ask you for a bottle of champagne. Not glasses. The whole shebang. And I was hoping, if it’s not too much trouble, if we could get some soft romantic music to be played on the overhead? Maybe some Barry White or John Paul Young?”
The woman didn’t quite know what to say, “Uh. I suppose I can go see if they have any of that in the back. I’ll get that champagne straight out, ma’am.”
Angela stood back and grinned.
Several minutes later, the woman came back and handed the champagne bottle over to Booth with two chilled glasses, then walked away without another word.
“Oh… Kay….” Booth said. He shrugged and went with it. Another one of those perks of being in First Class. He nudged Brennan awake.
She opened her eyes groggily as Booth poured the glasses and handed one over to her. “Champagne, m’lady?”
“M’lady?” She asked incredulously.
“Go with it, Bones.”
She smiled and shook her head, then reached for the glass.
At that moment, “Can’t Get Enough of Your Love, Babe” came over the overhead speakers.
Angela watched on curiously, hoping at least a little bit of the alcohol or a teensy bit of the romantic music would light a spark.
Nothing more than the usual sparks flew.
Within a few hours, Brennan had fallen asleep on Booth’s shoulder. He thought about pushing her head off to keep her from feeling embarrassed when she awoke, but instead he ‘went with it’ and enjoyed the closeness. He tilted his head just enough so he could inhale her scent, then rested his head on top of hers and drifted off to sleep.
Angela wasn’t dissuaded. She knew that Phase Three would be much more successful!
Brennan looked nervously at her wristwatch, then watched the doors. “Where are they?”
Booth took a seat on a nearby chair and helped her keep an eye out. “Maybe Ange had to stop and buy another suitcase?”
Brennan looked down at him, then sat beside him. “We’re supposed to check-in in five minutes.”
At that moment, Angela and Hodgins came into sight. Hodgins had a bag under each armpit, and dragged bags behind him as well. Angela carried a purse. “Sweetie! I’m so excited! I was so bummed that you two got to go to England last summer without us.”
Angela wrapped her arms around Brennan, then eyed Booth, winked at him, then began to walk toward check-in.
“Got enough bags?” Booth asked Hodgins.
“Apparently not,” Hodgins whispered. Angela and Brennan began checking in their luggage. Hodgins dropped them off then walked out of ear-shot with Booth. “Listen, man, I was hoping to talk to you about, um, women.”
Booth looked amused. He didn’t know it, but Hodgins was desperately trying to get out of his comfort zone and do the girl talk thing with a guy. “Havin’ trouble with the Mrs.?”
“No, no. Nothing like that. I was just…” He sighed. “Never mind.”
Booth raised a brow. “OK, dude. Whenever you wanna talk.”
Brennan and Angela walked back. Brennan was waving tickets with a confused look on her face.
“What’s up, Bones?”
“They screwed up our tickets. They reassigned you to First Class, Booth.”
Booth grinned and grabbed the ticket. “Happy accident! Yes!”
“I just don’t get it. When I bought the tickets, you had coach and I had First Class.”
Booth looked annoyed, “Gee, thanks, Bones.”
“You only gave me enough money for a coach, Booth. I didn’t want to insult you by buying a more expensive ticket with my own money just so we could fly next to each other.”
Angela and Hodgins exchanged amused glances that went unnoticed by Booth and Brennan.
“I wouldn’t have minded, Bones. I just wish you’d told me. I would have paid the extra money so we were together.”
The flight was relatively uneventful. Booth was thoroughly pleased with the extra attention that First Class served up. Pillows, hot meals, slippers, champagne. So much better than the cold hamburgers heated up in the microwave and Pepsi in the can of Coach.
Angela and Hodgins sat several seats behind them. Ange made a move to stand. Hodgins grabbed her elbow, “Where are you going?”
“Phase Two of Operation Matchmaker.” Angela stood, Hodgins only sat back. He had a feeling that he was going to be the one who was going to run naked through Lindoosvarna. And yet, there didn’t seem to be anything wrong with that whole idea.
Angela found a stewardess. “Excuse me, but my friends in A2 and A3 wanted me to ask you for a bottle of champagne. Not glasses. The whole shebang. And I was hoping, if it’s not too much trouble, if we could get some soft romantic music to be played on the overhead? Maybe some Barry White or John Paul Young?”
The woman didn’t quite know what to say, “Uh. I suppose I can go see if they have any of that in the back. I’ll get that champagne straight out, ma’am.”
Angela stood back and grinned.
Several minutes later, the woman came back and handed the champagne bottle over to Booth with two chilled glasses, then walked away without another word.
“Oh… Kay….” Booth said. He shrugged and went with it. Another one of those perks of being in First Class. He nudged Brennan awake.
She opened her eyes groggily as Booth poured the glasses and handed one over to her. “Champagne, m’lady?”
“M’lady?” She asked incredulously.
“Go with it, Bones.”
She smiled and shook her head, then reached for the glass.
At that moment, “Can’t Get Enough of Your Love, Babe” came over the overhead speakers.
Angela watched on curiously, hoping at least a little bit of the alcohol or a teensy bit of the romantic music would light a spark.
Nothing more than the usual sparks flew.
Within a few hours, Brennan had fallen asleep on Booth’s shoulder. He thought about pushing her head off to keep her from feeling embarrassed when she awoke, but instead he ‘went with it’ and enjoyed the closeness. He tilted his head just enough so he could inhale her scent, then rested his head on top of hers and drifted off to sleep.
Angela wasn’t dissuaded. She knew that Phase Three would be much more successful!
Re: A Match Made in Lisdoonvarna
no need to feel embarrassed for sleeping on Booth's broad shoulder.....in fact I think that must be a pretty could place to sleep....maybe for the rest of her life?
ToZiKa- Prosecutor
- Number of posts : 37397
Say What You Want : It's been great and I'll never forget this place! Thanks Lindsey!
Registration date : 2008-06-14
Re: A Match Made in Lisdoonvarna
Chapter 4: Two for One Special
Ireland in the autumn is quite chilly. God help the man… or woman… who will have to run naked through the streets of Lisdoonvarna.
The group walked through the airport feeling exhausted and jetlagged. Booth, however, seemed to have ridiculous amounts of energy. He walked through each and every gift shop and browsed, then ran to catch up with Hodgins, Brennan, and Angela, who walked slowly through the terminal toward the taxi loading and unloading dock. Booth ran up and grabbed Brennan’s suitcase from her hand. “Let me take that.”
Brennan didn’t put up a fight. She was too exhausted. Flying always made her feeling completely exhausted, despite sleeping on the flight to and fro.
“Do you think they have skiing here?” Booth remarked.
Angela and Hodgins looked at him, feeling completely unnerved. Why was Booth thinking about skiing when all they could think about was a warm bed?
“I suppose they do,” Brennan said. “If they have mountains and snow, then they must have skiing.”
“Wanna go with me?”
“Skiing?”
“Yeah.”
“Booth, I don’t ski. I have terrible balance. I have two left feet when it comes to those things: dancing, rollerblading, skiing. It’s because I have an unevenly formed iliac crest.”
Booth rolled his eyes, “I’ll teach you. Even with an uneven lilac crisp…”
“Iliac Crest.”
“Yeah, yeah. Anyway, I’ll help you.”
Angela chirped up, “That’s a great idea, Booth!”
Booth looked over at her, happy for the support. “See? Angela wants to go. How ‘bout you, Hodgins?”
“I’m not doing anything until I get a hot shower and a nine hour nap.”
“See? He’s just dying to go skiing.”
Brennan smiled slightly, wearily, “Booth. I’ve got to head out to Lisdoonvarna in the morning. I’m afraid I won’t have time for skiing.”
Booth looked disappointed. Angela leaned in and whispered in his ear, “Don’t worry, Booth. I have a feeling there will be plenty of sight seeing opportunities on this trip.” Booth looked at her curiously. The suggestion sounded normal, but there was something in her voice… Angela winked at him. Booth rolled his eyes.
--
“What do you mean you lost our reservation?” Brennan demanded of the old Irishman behind the counter.
“I’m sorry, Miss. We have no records of a reservation under the name Brennan.”
Brennan dug out her credit card, “Do you have any openings? I’ll pay anything.”
The man shook his head. “No, I apologize for the inconvenience. Because of the festival, there are no openings. Perhaps you should check with your trip manager?”
Brennan tightened her lips and whipped out her cell phone. She dialed a number, waited several seconds, and walked toward the door. Hodgins, Angela, and Booth all waited near the counter. Angela took a seat in a plush chair, exhausted and regretting her most recent prank. All she wanted was a bed. She knew that was at least an hour away.
After a few minutes, Brennan returned. “Somebody changed our reservations. We’re supposed to stay at a B&B down the street. I don’t get it. I swear that I booked three bedrooms…”
Angela stood up and walked over to the group. Booth took Brennan’s bag from her once again. Hodgins lifted some bags on his shoulders and whispered to Angela, “This is your doing, isn’t it?”
Angela looked innocent.
Hodgins knew better.
--
The group pulled in front of the Fermona House B&B, a small white building at the edge of town. Booth took the lead this time. His three companions slumped against one another on wooden chairs, exhausted. “Hey, we have a reservation here. I think it’s under Brennan?”
A young woman with blond hair and blue eyes stood behind the counter. She looked through a log book and replied to Booth, “Two rooms?”
Brennan lifted her head off from Angela’s shoulder, semi-horrified.
“Excuse me?” Booth asked.
“Two rooms, sir. You have reserved two rooms under Brennan.” Brennan jumped from her seat and came up beside Booth at the counter.
“No. You have it wrong. We have three rooms. Three.”
The woman looked back down at her book, read through it with more precision and care, then looked up. “I’m sorry, miss. You have just two rooms reserved.”
“No. Three! Three!”
Booth held her back with one arm, then looked up at the woman with much more tact and grace, “Is there any way we can get a third room?”
The woman shook her head. “I’m sorry. The annual Matchmaking Festival draws people from all over the world. We’re booked until the end of the month. There’s nothing I can do.”
Booth considered this. All he wanted was a bed and as far as he knew, there were two blond blue-eyed Irish women in front of him, instead of just one. “Sounds good.”
“Booth!”
“Bones, there isn’t anything we can do.”
Brennan whirled around and looked at Ange.
“What? I didn’t do anything!” Angela defended herself.
Brennan hadn’t even been thinking that. She looked over that comment, “I suppose you and I will have to share a room.”
Angela shook her head. “No way, Bren. I hate to break it to you, but there’s no way I’m going to share a room with you in one of the most romantic places on earth. I’m staying with Hodgins.” She crossed her arms.
Brennan rolled her eyes. “So I have to share a room with Booth?”
Booth came up beside her and wrapped an arm around her neck, dangling keys in front of her face. “Wouldn’t be the first time, Bones.”
Angela’s mouth dropped. “What?”
Brennan was quick to explain. “We may have shared a room in Vegas, but trust me, nothing happened.”
“I don’t know about you ladies, but I am going to go to bed, sleep for five or six hours, then take a shower. Who’s with me?”
“I’m not taking a shower with you, Booth.”
Booth looked amused, “That’s not what I meant, Bones.”
Angela snatched a set of keys from Booth’s hand. “Night, guys.”
--
The room that they had to share had one queen sized bed in the middle of the room, a wooden headboard, and silky purple bedding.
“Romantic,” Booth commented, then he began to take his pants off.
“Booth!”
“What?!”
Brennan turned her back to him. “You could’ve warned me.”
“Bones, it’s not like you haven’t seen it before. Besides, this time I’m keeping my shorts on.”
Brennan turned around once she heard the squeaking of the mattress. Booth had already turned onto his stomach and pushed a pillow under his neck.
“Night, Bones.”
Brennan stood with her arms crossed for a few seconds, then tried to devise a way to sleep somewhere other than beside Booth. Then, she remembered her rational side. Nothing would happen with Booth. He woudn’t take advantage of her. He never has. She removed her shoes and jacket, and laid on the bed beside Booth. Within minutes, they were both sound asleep.
Ireland in the autumn is quite chilly. God help the man… or woman… who will have to run naked through the streets of Lisdoonvarna.
The group walked through the airport feeling exhausted and jetlagged. Booth, however, seemed to have ridiculous amounts of energy. He walked through each and every gift shop and browsed, then ran to catch up with Hodgins, Brennan, and Angela, who walked slowly through the terminal toward the taxi loading and unloading dock. Booth ran up and grabbed Brennan’s suitcase from her hand. “Let me take that.”
Brennan didn’t put up a fight. She was too exhausted. Flying always made her feeling completely exhausted, despite sleeping on the flight to and fro.
“Do you think they have skiing here?” Booth remarked.
Angela and Hodgins looked at him, feeling completely unnerved. Why was Booth thinking about skiing when all they could think about was a warm bed?
“I suppose they do,” Brennan said. “If they have mountains and snow, then they must have skiing.”
“Wanna go with me?”
“Skiing?”
“Yeah.”
“Booth, I don’t ski. I have terrible balance. I have two left feet when it comes to those things: dancing, rollerblading, skiing. It’s because I have an unevenly formed iliac crest.”
Booth rolled his eyes, “I’ll teach you. Even with an uneven lilac crisp…”
“Iliac Crest.”
“Yeah, yeah. Anyway, I’ll help you.”
Angela chirped up, “That’s a great idea, Booth!”
Booth looked over at her, happy for the support. “See? Angela wants to go. How ‘bout you, Hodgins?”
“I’m not doing anything until I get a hot shower and a nine hour nap.”
“See? He’s just dying to go skiing.”
Brennan smiled slightly, wearily, “Booth. I’ve got to head out to Lisdoonvarna in the morning. I’m afraid I won’t have time for skiing.”
Booth looked disappointed. Angela leaned in and whispered in his ear, “Don’t worry, Booth. I have a feeling there will be plenty of sight seeing opportunities on this trip.” Booth looked at her curiously. The suggestion sounded normal, but there was something in her voice… Angela winked at him. Booth rolled his eyes.
--
“What do you mean you lost our reservation?” Brennan demanded of the old Irishman behind the counter.
“I’m sorry, Miss. We have no records of a reservation under the name Brennan.”
Brennan dug out her credit card, “Do you have any openings? I’ll pay anything.”
The man shook his head. “No, I apologize for the inconvenience. Because of the festival, there are no openings. Perhaps you should check with your trip manager?”
Brennan tightened her lips and whipped out her cell phone. She dialed a number, waited several seconds, and walked toward the door. Hodgins, Angela, and Booth all waited near the counter. Angela took a seat in a plush chair, exhausted and regretting her most recent prank. All she wanted was a bed. She knew that was at least an hour away.
After a few minutes, Brennan returned. “Somebody changed our reservations. We’re supposed to stay at a B&B down the street. I don’t get it. I swear that I booked three bedrooms…”
Angela stood up and walked over to the group. Booth took Brennan’s bag from her once again. Hodgins lifted some bags on his shoulders and whispered to Angela, “This is your doing, isn’t it?”
Angela looked innocent.
Hodgins knew better.
--
The group pulled in front of the Fermona House B&B, a small white building at the edge of town. Booth took the lead this time. His three companions slumped against one another on wooden chairs, exhausted. “Hey, we have a reservation here. I think it’s under Brennan?”
A young woman with blond hair and blue eyes stood behind the counter. She looked through a log book and replied to Booth, “Two rooms?”
Brennan lifted her head off from Angela’s shoulder, semi-horrified.
“Excuse me?” Booth asked.
“Two rooms, sir. You have reserved two rooms under Brennan.” Brennan jumped from her seat and came up beside Booth at the counter.
“No. You have it wrong. We have three rooms. Three.”
The woman looked back down at her book, read through it with more precision and care, then looked up. “I’m sorry, miss. You have just two rooms reserved.”
“No. Three! Three!”
Booth held her back with one arm, then looked up at the woman with much more tact and grace, “Is there any way we can get a third room?”
The woman shook her head. “I’m sorry. The annual Matchmaking Festival draws people from all over the world. We’re booked until the end of the month. There’s nothing I can do.”
Booth considered this. All he wanted was a bed and as far as he knew, there were two blond blue-eyed Irish women in front of him, instead of just one. “Sounds good.”
“Booth!”
“Bones, there isn’t anything we can do.”
Brennan whirled around and looked at Ange.
“What? I didn’t do anything!” Angela defended herself.
Brennan hadn’t even been thinking that. She looked over that comment, “I suppose you and I will have to share a room.”
Angela shook her head. “No way, Bren. I hate to break it to you, but there’s no way I’m going to share a room with you in one of the most romantic places on earth. I’m staying with Hodgins.” She crossed her arms.
Brennan rolled her eyes. “So I have to share a room with Booth?”
Booth came up beside her and wrapped an arm around her neck, dangling keys in front of her face. “Wouldn’t be the first time, Bones.”
Angela’s mouth dropped. “What?”
Brennan was quick to explain. “We may have shared a room in Vegas, but trust me, nothing happened.”
“I don’t know about you ladies, but I am going to go to bed, sleep for five or six hours, then take a shower. Who’s with me?”
“I’m not taking a shower with you, Booth.”
Booth looked amused, “That’s not what I meant, Bones.”
Angela snatched a set of keys from Booth’s hand. “Night, guys.”
--
The room that they had to share had one queen sized bed in the middle of the room, a wooden headboard, and silky purple bedding.
“Romantic,” Booth commented, then he began to take his pants off.
“Booth!”
“What?!”
Brennan turned her back to him. “You could’ve warned me.”
“Bones, it’s not like you haven’t seen it before. Besides, this time I’m keeping my shorts on.”
Brennan turned around once she heard the squeaking of the mattress. Booth had already turned onto his stomach and pushed a pillow under his neck.
“Night, Bones.”
Brennan stood with her arms crossed for a few seconds, then tried to devise a way to sleep somewhere other than beside Booth. Then, she remembered her rational side. Nothing would happen with Booth. He woudn’t take advantage of her. He never has. She removed her shoes and jacket, and laid on the bed beside Booth. Within minutes, they were both sound asleep.
Re: A Match Made in Lisdoonvarna
Me want more. Me like it!
You are such a geinus:)
You are such a geinus:)
Cassiopeia- Administrator
- Number of posts : 11713
Location : Estonia
Registration date : 2008-06-24
Re: A Match Made in Lisdoonvarna
Yummy chapter! *more-more-more-more-more!*
mereva- Head of Forensics
- Number of posts : 1841
Age : 122
Say What You Want : I'm frustrated and very annoyed by HH's 'brilliant ideas'.
All the credits for my avatar go to christinaof94 from LJ.
Registration date : 2008-06-15
Re: A Match Made in Lisdoonvarna
oho one room.....angela had some good ideas......
ToZiKa- Prosecutor
- Number of posts : 37397
Say What You Want : It's been great and I'll never forget this place! Thanks Lindsey!
Registration date : 2008-06-14
Re: A Match Made in Lisdoonvarna
i just read the story on fanfiction.net and totally loved it. As a irish person myself
i have never been to Lisdoonvarna but i know i few people who have. the story is briliantly written.
i have never been to Lisdoonvarna but i know i few people who have. the story is briliantly written.
pretty_green_eyes- Squint
- Number of posts : 62
Age : 43
Location : Cork City Ireland
Registration date : 2008-06-21
Re: A Match Made in Lisdoonvarna
Aw thank you all!!!
pretty_green_eyes, I'm trying my hardest not to have too many faux pas on this story, so forgive me if I do. But I am so glad that you are loving what is written so far!
pretty_green_eyes, I'm trying my hardest not to have too many faux pas on this story, so forgive me if I do. But I am so glad that you are loving what is written so far!
Re: A Match Made in Lisdoonvarna
Chapter 5: The Bar
“Marriages are made in heaven, but people meet in the Matchmaker Bar,” Brennan read skeptically a sign above the pub. “Can you believe that people actually believe that you can find a ‘Soul Mate’ in a bar miles upon miles away from your home? As if the proximity of blood-thirsty, love-starved people might up your chances of finding love?”
“Bones, think of it like High School. The more hormones you pack into a small space, the better chance you’ll have of making out in the back of your dad’s Chevy Impala,” Booth whispered to her as a crowd of drunken soul-mate searchers passed them up.
Angela grabbed Brennan’s hand and led her into the bar. On the dance floor, people held each other’s hands and danced to a lively Irish song. Then the tempo changed and the band began to play, “The Lovely Rose of Clare.”
Booth and Hodgins hung in the back. Angela stole Brennan away to the dance floor. Some people gave them odd looks, others didn’t think twice about the two women dancing arm-in-arm.
“I love the atmosphere here, Bren,” Angela said loudly.
Brennan nodded, “The relative humidity is perfect. Considering the juxtaposition of the coast to the city--”
“I’m talking about the love, Bren! Everyone’s in love here. G-d, to think that just a few months ago Hodgins and I hardly talked to each other. I never thanked you for that.”
Brennan looked at her friend with a curious expression, “I don’t know what you mean, Ange.”
Angela slowed her dancing, “You know. I just-- Thanks.”
“No, I don’t know. What did I do?”
She smiled at her friends naivety, “Bren, J-sus. You were so absorbed with Booth that you didn’t even notice anything else. Figures.”
“What—What are you talking about?”
“Remember after New Year’s when Hodgins and I got back together?”
A nod.
“What? It never hit you to wonder why we got back together?”
“I just figured that you two had worked out whatever issues were hindering you.”
Angela began to describe the New Year’s case, refreshing her friend’s memory and adding details she’d never thought of. Angela went for a walk on a chilly late December day with her dog. The park was chilly and empty. A storm was growing above, and although it was the middle of the day, the sky was dark and brooding. Angela turned a corner and walked down a little lane, covered by Elms and Maples. They sheltered the lane like a thick umbrella, making the path even darker than it was a second before. After turning a sharp corner, the dog, a little Chihuahua with a tan coat began to bark hysterically. Angela, figuring it was a squirrel or chipmunk of some sort, picked up the dog and began to pet its head, calming it. The dog relaxed and she continued her walk down the trail.
Without a second warning, the last sound Angela heard was the sharp yelp from the dog. Then all was dark. The next lucid thought to sprinkle through her mind was how cold she felt. Her eyes flickered open. Wherever she was, it was dark, and she lay on her side on a dirt floor. The ground was icy cold and chilled her to the bone.
Brennan was sitting in the lab when she noticed Angela had left her purse in her office. She grabbed the purse and went to the park, the last place Angela said she would be. She followed the same path, turned the same dark corners. Then she walked into what would become some of the darkest memories in her recollection. A man stood over Angela, who lay unconscious on the ground. He stood as if he was about to sexually assault Angela. He froze, then came after Brennan. He attacked her and dragged the two women into the basement of his DC area home.
Angela came out of her haze, her eyes adjusted to the dimness and she saw a familiar form on the ground beside her. She crawled over to her friend.
As Angela recounted the day, Brennan reached to the back of her head and touched a scar that laced through her hairline.
What had saved them from that basement had come from pure luck. Nothing more. Brennan released her bindings from her hands and ankles. After the women had crawled along the basement for more than an hour, the icy ground biting into every joint in their bodies, Brennan came across a telephone wire. She wired it up to the base of an ancient phone found among the junk in the corner. The phone lacked a receiver, but by tapping on the base like Morse Code, 9 taps, 1 tap, 1 tap, she was able to call for help.
“And because of that Hodgins…?”
Angela wiped at her eye with a shaking hand, “It’s just—When I thought I lost Jack after the Gravedigger—And then Jack thought he lost me--” She laughed, realizing she was sobbing in the middle of a bar. “Who needs a drink? I’m already acting like I’ve had a keg!”
The two women hugged one another as Brennan remembered the events after they were rescued…
Booth and Hodgins watched on as the women talked, hugged, then continued to talk.
Booth turned toward the bar, away from the women and wrapped his hands around his Guinness. Hodgins did the same.
“You’re a lucky man,” Booth said to Hodgins, a little bit of congratulations in his voice, a little bit of sadness.
Hodgins looked over at him, then spoke, “Yeah, man. Ange is a wonderful woman. I love her very much,” he looked over at Booth and tried to read his expression. “What about you?”
“Huh?” Booth looked up.
“You dating anyone?” He tried to speak loud enough to speak over the music.
Booth shook his head. “Nah. Charlotte dumped me last week,” he gave a mirthless laugh.
“I didn’t know you were dating.”
“Eh. You could hardly call it that. She’s a divorce litigation attorney. She spent half her time working on cases, and the other half criticizing relationships.”
Hodgins laughed, “One of the many unspoken benefits of dating a divorce lawyer.”
The men laughed, then Booth spoke again, “It wasn’t meant to be anyway. We never had anything to talk about. I mean, the sex was—But it just has to be more than sex, you know?”
Hodgins nodded, then took a big gulp from his beer.
Booth seemed to be looking for answers in the Guinness, staring deeply into the amber frothy swirls in his mug, “Bones doesn’t seem to think so.”
Hodgins raised an eyebrow.
Booth took another swig, slammed the mug on the wooden counter, then looked for more answers in the waves. “Yeah… She—she thinks it can be just sex. I agree that you can have a relationship of some sort with just sex, but it won’t last. It's not real. It’s not what I’m looking for anyway.”
A woman sat beside Booth, on the stool to his right and slid a card into his eyesight. Booth looked up and smiled. She had green eyes and dark hair, a sweet face that was flecked with freckles. The card said Siofra and had her number jotted just below it. “I’ll be in Lisdoonvarna until Monday,” she looked up, motioned to her companions standing by the door that she would just be a second, then turned her attention back to Booth.
Booth took the card and put it in his pocket. “Thank you. I’m Seeley,” he held out his hand, which she took in hers.
“I’m Siofra. Call me,” she let her hand linger on his, then she stood and jogged after her friends. The two women, one in a short pink miniskirt, the other in a long frilly dress, both chatted gaily with their friend, then walked out of the bar, past the window and down the street.
Booth and Hodgins shared a laugh. “See? It's not for the lack of opportunity.”
Brennan watched as Booth and the dark haired Irish woman talked. Booth put her card in his pocket. They touched hands. The two men laughed.
She quickly pulled away from Angela, “I should probably go to the morgue. I can probably get some work in tonight.”
Angela was surprised by the sudden change in tone, “Are you sure, sweetie? You haven’t even had anything to drink. Can’t you leave it ‘til tomorrow?”
Brennan shook her head, “No.” She walked briskly to the bar and took her coat from the stool.
“Hey, Bones, where’s the fire?”
Brennan didn’t reply, she just walked out of the bar, down the same direction that Siofra just went.
Angela walked over and sat where Brennan’s coat had just been. “What’s up with Brennan?”
Booth shrugged.
Hodgins stood and held out his hand for Angela. “Want to dance?”
Angela quickly forgot the mystery of her friend’s quick departure. She took Jack’s hand and walked onto the crowded dance floor and into his arms.
“Marriages are made in heaven, but people meet in the Matchmaker Bar,” Brennan read skeptically a sign above the pub. “Can you believe that people actually believe that you can find a ‘Soul Mate’ in a bar miles upon miles away from your home? As if the proximity of blood-thirsty, love-starved people might up your chances of finding love?”
“Bones, think of it like High School. The more hormones you pack into a small space, the better chance you’ll have of making out in the back of your dad’s Chevy Impala,” Booth whispered to her as a crowd of drunken soul-mate searchers passed them up.
Angela grabbed Brennan’s hand and led her into the bar. On the dance floor, people held each other’s hands and danced to a lively Irish song. Then the tempo changed and the band began to play, “The Lovely Rose of Clare.”
Booth and Hodgins hung in the back. Angela stole Brennan away to the dance floor. Some people gave them odd looks, others didn’t think twice about the two women dancing arm-in-arm.
“I love the atmosphere here, Bren,” Angela said loudly.
Brennan nodded, “The relative humidity is perfect. Considering the juxtaposition of the coast to the city--”
“I’m talking about the love, Bren! Everyone’s in love here. G-d, to think that just a few months ago Hodgins and I hardly talked to each other. I never thanked you for that.”
Brennan looked at her friend with a curious expression, “I don’t know what you mean, Ange.”
Angela slowed her dancing, “You know. I just-- Thanks.”
“No, I don’t know. What did I do?”
She smiled at her friends naivety, “Bren, J-sus. You were so absorbed with Booth that you didn’t even notice anything else. Figures.”
“What—What are you talking about?”
“Remember after New Year’s when Hodgins and I got back together?”
A nod.
“What? It never hit you to wonder why we got back together?”
“I just figured that you two had worked out whatever issues were hindering you.”
Angela began to describe the New Year’s case, refreshing her friend’s memory and adding details she’d never thought of. Angela went for a walk on a chilly late December day with her dog. The park was chilly and empty. A storm was growing above, and although it was the middle of the day, the sky was dark and brooding. Angela turned a corner and walked down a little lane, covered by Elms and Maples. They sheltered the lane like a thick umbrella, making the path even darker than it was a second before. After turning a sharp corner, the dog, a little Chihuahua with a tan coat began to bark hysterically. Angela, figuring it was a squirrel or chipmunk of some sort, picked up the dog and began to pet its head, calming it. The dog relaxed and she continued her walk down the trail.
Without a second warning, the last sound Angela heard was the sharp yelp from the dog. Then all was dark. The next lucid thought to sprinkle through her mind was how cold she felt. Her eyes flickered open. Wherever she was, it was dark, and she lay on her side on a dirt floor. The ground was icy cold and chilled her to the bone.
Brennan was sitting in the lab when she noticed Angela had left her purse in her office. She grabbed the purse and went to the park, the last place Angela said she would be. She followed the same path, turned the same dark corners. Then she walked into what would become some of the darkest memories in her recollection. A man stood over Angela, who lay unconscious on the ground. He stood as if he was about to sexually assault Angela. He froze, then came after Brennan. He attacked her and dragged the two women into the basement of his DC area home.
Angela came out of her haze, her eyes adjusted to the dimness and she saw a familiar form on the ground beside her. She crawled over to her friend.
As Angela recounted the day, Brennan reached to the back of her head and touched a scar that laced through her hairline.
What had saved them from that basement had come from pure luck. Nothing more. Brennan released her bindings from her hands and ankles. After the women had crawled along the basement for more than an hour, the icy ground biting into every joint in their bodies, Brennan came across a telephone wire. She wired it up to the base of an ancient phone found among the junk in the corner. The phone lacked a receiver, but by tapping on the base like Morse Code, 9 taps, 1 tap, 1 tap, she was able to call for help.
“And because of that Hodgins…?”
Angela wiped at her eye with a shaking hand, “It’s just—When I thought I lost Jack after the Gravedigger—And then Jack thought he lost me--” She laughed, realizing she was sobbing in the middle of a bar. “Who needs a drink? I’m already acting like I’ve had a keg!”
The two women hugged one another as Brennan remembered the events after they were rescued…
Booth and Hodgins watched on as the women talked, hugged, then continued to talk.
Booth turned toward the bar, away from the women and wrapped his hands around his Guinness. Hodgins did the same.
“You’re a lucky man,” Booth said to Hodgins, a little bit of congratulations in his voice, a little bit of sadness.
Hodgins looked over at him, then spoke, “Yeah, man. Ange is a wonderful woman. I love her very much,” he looked over at Booth and tried to read his expression. “What about you?”
“Huh?” Booth looked up.
“You dating anyone?” He tried to speak loud enough to speak over the music.
Booth shook his head. “Nah. Charlotte dumped me last week,” he gave a mirthless laugh.
“I didn’t know you were dating.”
“Eh. You could hardly call it that. She’s a divorce litigation attorney. She spent half her time working on cases, and the other half criticizing relationships.”
Hodgins laughed, “One of the many unspoken benefits of dating a divorce lawyer.”
The men laughed, then Booth spoke again, “It wasn’t meant to be anyway. We never had anything to talk about. I mean, the sex was—But it just has to be more than sex, you know?”
Hodgins nodded, then took a big gulp from his beer.
Booth seemed to be looking for answers in the Guinness, staring deeply into the amber frothy swirls in his mug, “Bones doesn’t seem to think so.”
Hodgins raised an eyebrow.
Booth took another swig, slammed the mug on the wooden counter, then looked for more answers in the waves. “Yeah… She—she thinks it can be just sex. I agree that you can have a relationship of some sort with just sex, but it won’t last. It's not real. It’s not what I’m looking for anyway.”
A woman sat beside Booth, on the stool to his right and slid a card into his eyesight. Booth looked up and smiled. She had green eyes and dark hair, a sweet face that was flecked with freckles. The card said Siofra and had her number jotted just below it. “I’ll be in Lisdoonvarna until Monday,” she looked up, motioned to her companions standing by the door that she would just be a second, then turned her attention back to Booth.
Booth took the card and put it in his pocket. “Thank you. I’m Seeley,” he held out his hand, which she took in hers.
“I’m Siofra. Call me,” she let her hand linger on his, then she stood and jogged after her friends. The two women, one in a short pink miniskirt, the other in a long frilly dress, both chatted gaily with their friend, then walked out of the bar, past the window and down the street.
Booth and Hodgins shared a laugh. “See? It's not for the lack of opportunity.”
Brennan watched as Booth and the dark haired Irish woman talked. Booth put her card in his pocket. They touched hands. The two men laughed.
She quickly pulled away from Angela, “I should probably go to the morgue. I can probably get some work in tonight.”
Angela was surprised by the sudden change in tone, “Are you sure, sweetie? You haven’t even had anything to drink. Can’t you leave it ‘til tomorrow?”
Brennan shook her head, “No.” She walked briskly to the bar and took her coat from the stool.
“Hey, Bones, where’s the fire?”
Brennan didn’t reply, she just walked out of the bar, down the same direction that Siofra just went.
Angela walked over and sat where Brennan’s coat had just been. “What’s up with Brennan?”
Booth shrugged.
Hodgins stood and held out his hand for Angela. “Want to dance?”
Angela quickly forgot the mystery of her friend’s quick departure. She took Jack’s hand and walked onto the crowded dance floor and into his arms.
Re: A Match Made in Lisdoonvarna
Chapter 6: Out of Sight
Booth watched as Angela and Hodgins walked onto the dance floor. He was beginning to feel rather drunk from the ridiculous amounts of Guinness that the women kept sending his way. He’d heard that it was considered an aphrodisiac, but that was doubtful since he felt more like throwing up than anything.
He stood up and quickly ran after Brennan, who had reached the end of the street. He passed by a crowd of couples dancing on the sidewalk. The sun had begun to dip below the horizon and street lamps were beginning to glow.
“Bones! Wait up!”
Brennan kept walking as Booth ran after her.
“Bones!”
Finally, she spun around. “What?!”
Booth slowed to a quick walk, then stopped within feet of her. Music from the bar could be heard from where they stood. A country song with indecipherable lyrics was beginning to be played and people on the sidewalks were line dancing, arms around one another, laughing, enjoying the festival.
“Why’d you bolt out of there like that?”
Brennan’s cheeks glowed as she remembered the night after Angela’s and her rescue. Then she remembered Soifra flirting with Booth. She didn’t know whether to feel angry or hurt, or annoyed at herself. “Just… never mind. I’m going to the morgue to see if I can get any work in tonight.”
Booth shook his head, “That’s not why you ran out of there, Bones. You forget that I know you almost as well as you know yourself.”
“Booth, I—I don’t want to talk about it right now. I’m going to go start on the peat bog mummy. I’ll see you later tonight.” A gentle wind blew and pulled soft curls around her ears.
Booth couldn’t stand that look in her eyes. Why were they always doing this to each other? Pulling close to each other, pulling away from each other? And now that same look he saw in early January pulled Brennan’s face into such a pained expression.
Booth took several steps forward until they were millimeters from each other. He reached up and smoothed the fly-away curl behind her ear. Brennan was quick to break the deep, hungry look the two shared. “Booth. We can’t do this.”
He let his thumb slide from the corner of her lips to her cheek, “Bones, I know I hurt you, but I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”
Brennan swiped his hand away, “I told you that I forgave you. That’s not what this is about. I just want to get this out of the way so we can do some sightseeing tomorrow.” After a beat, she spoke again, “I swear, Booth.”
Booth let his hand drop away from her face. He so badly wanted to just grab her in his arms and kiss her—again. Make love to her. Again.
Brennan turned and walked out of sight.
Booth watched her until she turned a corner, then he walked back to the bar.
Booth watched as Angela and Hodgins walked onto the dance floor. He was beginning to feel rather drunk from the ridiculous amounts of Guinness that the women kept sending his way. He’d heard that it was considered an aphrodisiac, but that was doubtful since he felt more like throwing up than anything.
He stood up and quickly ran after Brennan, who had reached the end of the street. He passed by a crowd of couples dancing on the sidewalk. The sun had begun to dip below the horizon and street lamps were beginning to glow.
“Bones! Wait up!”
Brennan kept walking as Booth ran after her.
“Bones!”
Finally, she spun around. “What?!”
Booth slowed to a quick walk, then stopped within feet of her. Music from the bar could be heard from where they stood. A country song with indecipherable lyrics was beginning to be played and people on the sidewalks were line dancing, arms around one another, laughing, enjoying the festival.
“Why’d you bolt out of there like that?”
Brennan’s cheeks glowed as she remembered the night after Angela’s and her rescue. Then she remembered Soifra flirting with Booth. She didn’t know whether to feel angry or hurt, or annoyed at herself. “Just… never mind. I’m going to the morgue to see if I can get any work in tonight.”
Booth shook his head, “That’s not why you ran out of there, Bones. You forget that I know you almost as well as you know yourself.”
“Booth, I—I don’t want to talk about it right now. I’m going to go start on the peat bog mummy. I’ll see you later tonight.” A gentle wind blew and pulled soft curls around her ears.
Booth couldn’t stand that look in her eyes. Why were they always doing this to each other? Pulling close to each other, pulling away from each other? And now that same look he saw in early January pulled Brennan’s face into such a pained expression.
Booth took several steps forward until they were millimeters from each other. He reached up and smoothed the fly-away curl behind her ear. Brennan was quick to break the deep, hungry look the two shared. “Booth. We can’t do this.”
He let his thumb slide from the corner of her lips to her cheek, “Bones, I know I hurt you, but I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”
Brennan swiped his hand away, “I told you that I forgave you. That’s not what this is about. I just want to get this out of the way so we can do some sightseeing tomorrow.” After a beat, she spoke again, “I swear, Booth.”
Booth let his hand drop away from her face. He so badly wanted to just grab her in his arms and kiss her—again. Make love to her. Again.
Brennan turned and walked out of sight.
Booth watched her until she turned a corner, then he walked back to the bar.
Re: A Match Made in Lisdoonvarna
wow
they already had sex?
what happend?
they are perfect for each other.....they should be happy together and not sad and alone.....
please make it better soon!
they already had sex?
what happend?
they are perfect for each other.....they should be happy together and not sad and alone.....
please make it better soon!
ToZiKa- Prosecutor
- Number of posts : 37397
Say What You Want : It's been great and I'll never forget this place! Thanks Lindsey!
Registration date : 2008-06-14
Re: A Match Made in Lisdoonvarna
ForensicMama wrote:Aw thank you all!!!
pretty_green_eyes, I'm trying my hardest not to have too many faux pas on this story, so forgive me if I do. But I am so glad that you are loving what is written so far!
Don't worry. you doing great. now all we need if for brennan to meet a lovely farmer (trust me most of the men at the festival are) LOL
pretty_green_eyes- Squint
- Number of posts : 62
Age : 43
Location : Cork City Ireland
Registration date : 2008-06-21
Re: A Match Made in Lisdoonvarna
pretty_green_eyes wrote:ForensicMama wrote:Aw thank you all!!!
pretty_green_eyes, I'm trying my hardest not to have too many faux pas on this story, so forgive me if I do. But I am so glad that you are loving what is written so far!
Don't worry. you doing great. now all we need if for brennan to meet a lovely farmer (trust me most of the men at the festival are) LOL
LOL I'm thinking a non-farmer for Bren! hahahaha
Re: A Match Made in Lisdoonvarna
Chapter 7: Thinking of You
Brennan spent the better half the night at the local morgue. The peat bog mummy, affectionately dubbed Pete by the archaeologist on scene, Dr. Georgia Ferryman, was in excellently preserved shape. Leathery skin draped over high cheekbones, dark hair, worn and tattered clothing corroded by the hands of time. Frustratingly enough, there was little she could do without destroying the body’s integrity. At three, she ordered a full set of X-Rays and signed out, locking the door behind her.
“Heading out?”
Brennan jumped at the voice and turned to see Georgia, a short and brunette woman in her mid-forties, getting into her car. “Yes.”
“Sorry I startled you, Tempe.”
Brennan smiled, “It’s OK. I just didn’t expect anybody to be here.”
“You and I are the same. I’m always late to bed, late to rise.”
Brennan agreed, “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“X-Rays won’t be ready for a couple of days. Our tech has tomorrow off.”
“I suppose he is participating in the festivities?”
Georgia opened the car door. “Yes. I’m from Gloucester, but it’s a bit of a tradition for the locals. Not to mention, Willie’s single and looking. Consider yourself forewarned.” Georgia laughed heartily and settled herself in her car. Before pulling out, Georgia poked her head back out, “Would you like a lift back to your inn?”
Brennan shook her head, “No thank you, Georgia. The B&B is just down the street.”
Georgia drove out of sight, leaving Brennan to her thoughts. A couple passed her by, drunk on love and Irish beer. The man had his arm wrapped around the woman’s shoulder, much like how Booth had wrapped his arm around her neck. She tried desperately to train her thoughts in another direction. She tried to think of the Cliffs of Moher. Booth would enjoy the sightseeing excursion.
Booth.
G-d, why was he always... always.... there? He was always in her thoughts, always in her dreams, always there when she needed him. Brennan relented and let her mind wind back to Booth. No holds barred.
And she wondered once again if their decision to end their short-lived romance was the right thing to do. That thought had wound through her mind a million times since January. They were friends. They were good at being friends. Being lovers would befuddle the whole thing.
Then she thought back on that January night...
--
Booth went to bed early. He got out of bed and went outside where he sat on the front stoop. Staying out at the bar wasn't as fun as he thought it would be. Not without his partner. His friend.
Friends. They could be nothing more than friends, and he knew that. And it tore his heart out. Bones was something different. No other woman could ever measure up to her in his thoughts and in his heart. She was difficult, funny, interesting, multifaceted.
That's why he and Charlotte had broken up. She seemed two-toned whereas Bones was polychromatic. She seemed flat where Bones was three-dimensional. She seemed uninteresting whereas Bones was fascinating.
The truth was, no matter what, no woman could ever measure up to the standards that his partner had set. No woman could leap to the bar that Bones had raised.
And now, no woman could ever measure up in the bedroom, either. Maybe that January night was a mistake after all? No matter what, his thoughts always took a U-Turn back to her, in every relationship, every kiss, every hug, every touch--
Then, Booth thought back on that night. And he longed to hold her in his arms once again...
The next chapter will explain what happened in January...
Brennan spent the better half the night at the local morgue. The peat bog mummy, affectionately dubbed Pete by the archaeologist on scene, Dr. Georgia Ferryman, was in excellently preserved shape. Leathery skin draped over high cheekbones, dark hair, worn and tattered clothing corroded by the hands of time. Frustratingly enough, there was little she could do without destroying the body’s integrity. At three, she ordered a full set of X-Rays and signed out, locking the door behind her.
“Heading out?”
Brennan jumped at the voice and turned to see Georgia, a short and brunette woman in her mid-forties, getting into her car. “Yes.”
“Sorry I startled you, Tempe.”
Brennan smiled, “It’s OK. I just didn’t expect anybody to be here.”
“You and I are the same. I’m always late to bed, late to rise.”
Brennan agreed, “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“X-Rays won’t be ready for a couple of days. Our tech has tomorrow off.”
“I suppose he is participating in the festivities?”
Georgia opened the car door. “Yes. I’m from Gloucester, but it’s a bit of a tradition for the locals. Not to mention, Willie’s single and looking. Consider yourself forewarned.” Georgia laughed heartily and settled herself in her car. Before pulling out, Georgia poked her head back out, “Would you like a lift back to your inn?”
Brennan shook her head, “No thank you, Georgia. The B&B is just down the street.”
Georgia drove out of sight, leaving Brennan to her thoughts. A couple passed her by, drunk on love and Irish beer. The man had his arm wrapped around the woman’s shoulder, much like how Booth had wrapped his arm around her neck. She tried desperately to train her thoughts in another direction. She tried to think of the Cliffs of Moher. Booth would enjoy the sightseeing excursion.
Booth.
G-d, why was he always... always.... there? He was always in her thoughts, always in her dreams, always there when she needed him. Brennan relented and let her mind wind back to Booth. No holds barred.
And she wondered once again if their decision to end their short-lived romance was the right thing to do. That thought had wound through her mind a million times since January. They were friends. They were good at being friends. Being lovers would befuddle the whole thing.
Then she thought back on that January night...
--
Booth went to bed early. He got out of bed and went outside where he sat on the front stoop. Staying out at the bar wasn't as fun as he thought it would be. Not without his partner. His friend.
Friends. They could be nothing more than friends, and he knew that. And it tore his heart out. Bones was something different. No other woman could ever measure up to her in his thoughts and in his heart. She was difficult, funny, interesting, multifaceted.
That's why he and Charlotte had broken up. She seemed two-toned whereas Bones was polychromatic. She seemed flat where Bones was three-dimensional. She seemed uninteresting whereas Bones was fascinating.
The truth was, no matter what, no woman could ever measure up to the standards that his partner had set. No woman could leap to the bar that Bones had raised.
And now, no woman could ever measure up in the bedroom, either. Maybe that January night was a mistake after all? No matter what, his thoughts always took a U-Turn back to her, in every relationship, every kiss, every hug, every touch--
Then, Booth thought back on that night. And he longed to hold her in his arms once again...
The next chapter will explain what happened in January...
Re: A Match Made in Lisdoonvarna
The slept to together aready!!! i totally loving this story. i dying to know what happened in january.
pretty_green_eyes- Squint
- Number of posts : 62
Age : 43
Location : Cork City Ireland
Registration date : 2008-06-21
Re: A Match Made in Lisdoonvarna
WTF? Mama, you must write new chapter soon, before I will die in exitement...
(Y)
(Y)
Cassiopeia- Administrator
- Number of posts : 11713
Location : Estonia
Registration date : 2008-06-24
Re: A Match Made in Lisdoonvarna
Chapter 8: Unregrettable Love
Three days. Seventy-two hours. That’s how long Angela and Brennan spent in the cold cellar. That’s how long Hodgins agonized over the loss of Angela. That’s how long it took for Booth to finally admit to himself that he… He truly, unregrettably, utterly loved Temperance “Bones” Brennan. That’s also how long he believed she was dead.
On January first, Booth woke up from a restless night of sleep. The alarm clock wailed. He reached over and yanked it from the wall, ripping the wire cord from the plastic contraption. He rolled out of bed and went straight for the living room. He hadn’t bothered shaving in two days. He hadn’t bothered to wear anything but jeans and tees to work.
Booth knew three things. One, nobody had heard from either woman in three days. Two, there was a serial killer out there. And thirdly, there was a chance he had gotten his hands on Brennan and Angela. They both fit the victim profile: Thirties, single, living alone.
How did he not see it? How had he not gone out of his way to protect Bones? And now she was gone and he would never be able to tell her that he loved her. If he could only erase the past and start again, he would go out on that line. He would take her from everything that threatened her. He would let her know how much she meant to him.
At a quarter past eleven, Booth’s cell phone rang. He let it go to voice mail, not wanting to make small talk with Cam. Cam meant well. She only meant to comfort him, but it just made the day that much more painful, that much harder to wake up, to eat, to breathe. At twenty past, the phone rang again. Once again, the voice mail caught it. Booth reached for the control and turned on the television. He watched like a drone ESPN, not taking in a single word that came from the TV. At twenty-two past, the phone rang again. Booth groaned inwardly and reached for the phone. By then, the voicemail had gotten the third message and Booth let it play.
“Booth? Pick up. G-d dammit, Booth, pick up the G-d d-mn phone. Booth! Turn on the news.”
Booth’s breath caught in this throat at the sound of the urgency in Cam’s voice. He flipped to the Channel 9. At first nothing important was on. A car accident on 395, a bank robber arrested.
Then, there it was.
“On another front, in an interesting turn of events, two women were found alive today. They were kidnapped and held hostage for nearly three days in the basement of who is suspected to be The Duct Tape Strangler. The women, whose names have not yet been released, are in stable condition at the George Washington University Hospital. We’ll have more to come as details come to light…”
Booth jumped to his feet and threw on shoes, forgoing the jacket, despite the 27 degree weather, and ran out to the SUV. The drive to the hospital was a blur. Looking back on it, he only remembered the thoughts that ran through his head and the tears of thanks that blurred his vision.
He pushed past throngs of reporters who clogged the main entrance. A few recognized Booth from previous stories they had done and immediately threw microphones in his face.
“Agent Booth! Agent Booth! Who are the women? What is their condition? Has The Duct Tape Strangler been arrested? Who is he? Where’s Dr. Brennan? Is she involved in the investigation? Where is she?”
That last question was like throwing needles through his heart. He didn’t know where she was. He didn’t know how Angela and Bones were.
He pushed past them and to the main desk. He flashed his badge and without a word, a young woman with red hair led him down the halls. Police officers held off the reporters as the past by.
“Booth!”
He turned toward the familiar voice. Hodgins was running up to him.
“Where’s Angie?”
“Are you family?” The receptionist asked.
Hodgins hesitated, then replied, “I hope I will be.”
Booth smiled weakly and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “He’s with me.”
The woman nodded and led the two men down the hall.
“Ms. Montenegro is in 207. Dr. Brennan is in 209.” He nodded at the adjacent rooms.
Hodgins didn’t waste time in entering the room.
Angela turned toward the sound of the opening door. “Hodgins?”
His eyes welled with tears at the sight of Angela in the hospital bed, several shades paler than usual, lips dried and cracked from thirst, eyes sunken and dark. He walked up and held her hand tightly in his.
“Why are you crying?” Her voice was softened from exhaustion.
He only reached up and tucked strands of hair behind her ears. “Angela, I—I thought I lost you.”
She tightened her grip around his hand as salty streams streaked her cheeks, “You can’t lose me, Hodgins.”
He leaned close and kissed her, “I love you. G-d, I—I can’t spend another day away from you, Angela. If this is what life will be like without you, then—Then I don’t want to draw another breath on this earth. I can’t live without you.”
She reached up and wiped tears from his cheeks.
Hodgins reached for his pocket and held out her diamond engagement ring. “Marry me, Angela. And this time it’s forever.”
She studied his face for a second, “You didn’t pawn it?” She tried to be wry, but it came off weakly.
His face grew serious as he lifted her hand and slipped the ring on her finger. “The truth is, Angie… I’ve always carried it in my pocket. I—I don’t know, it’s silly.”
Angela reached up and touched his cheek, “You’ve kept in your pocket all this time?”
He nodded.
“That’s the craziest, sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.”
The two laughed between tears as they kissed.
--
Booth hesitated, then turned the handle. Inside, Bones was pulling on her boots, zipping the sides. Then she stood, getting ready to throw her jacket on.
“Woah! Woah! Bones! Where are you going?”
She looked at him, stunned to see him. “Booth?”
The two simply looked at one another across the room for several seconds. Emotions turned within their hearts as they looked at each other. Just minutes before, Booth was mourning the loss of his partner, now she stood before him. Beautiful, ethereal, perfect, despite the white bandage around her head. Not just despite it, because of it. Everything made her just that much more beautiful.
He walked quickly up to her, standing so close they could feel each others’ body heat. He was shaking from adrenaline, a culmination of running through the hospital and knowing that she was alive—and that he was about to make what might be the biggest mistake or the best mistake of his life.
“Bones, I—I can’t believe you’re here.”
“What? The hospital? I have a laceration on the base of my scalp from…” She paused, knowing she was being a tad too literal. “You mean alive?”
He stepped forward, their bodies pressed close to one another, and touched her face softly. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life, Bones. I—I can’t let you be on that list, too.”
“I don’t know…”
He kissed her forehead. Her breath caught in her throat as she felt his warm lips brush against her cheeks, her jaw, her temples. Then he moved his hand behind her head to draw her close.
“Ow,” she yelped, reaching her hand to her head.
Booth flinched, knowing he had gotten a little too carried away. “Sorry.”
“That’s… it’s OK.”
“Is it?”
She wrapped her arm around his neck. “Yes.”
He kissed her lightly, testing the waters. The waters were definitely warm, definitely inviting. Then they kissed deeply, hungrily, passionately, allowing their mouths to part, tongues to dance, hands to touch places that had otherwise been off limits.
Brennan and Angela were released from the hospital that day, neither needing more hospitalization, both needing rest and fluids. Angela noted Booth and Brennan holding hands as they left the hospital. That night, Booth stayed over and Bones’ place, making sure she had the things she needed, water, rest, food. She curled up against him as the New Yorkers on television partied and a clock counted down the time.
“Need anything?” Booth asked.
She nodded, “I could use some aspirin.”
Booth stood up and went to the bathroom to retrieve the aspirin, leaving Brennan on the couch to think over the events of the day. Just hours before she had been trapped. Just hours before he had thought she could be dead. Now they were on the couch together. It was all so confusing. One minute partners, the next—what were they? Kissing? Holding hands? The closeness was wonderful, of course, but then there were these indescribable feelings welling up inside of her when he held her close, checked her head, kissed her softly. And there was something behind all of the kisses—sadness, happiness? What was it? And why was it so hard to pinpoint what she was feeling? It was like the dam had been destroyed, like the solar flares had reached earth, like volcanoes were exploding, the earth moved—not to be cliché, fires spread, her heart had this pang in it when he held her close…
She stood and walked into the bathroom. Booth smiled as he heard her enter, but continued pealing little white pills from their foil packaging.
“Booth?”
He looked up, a perplexed look marked his face at the sound of her voice, a sound he had never heard before. The sound of confusion. “Bones? What’s up?”
She reached out her hand, which he took in his, then she led him to the bedroom. He made love to her slowly, careful not to jolt her head injury, but taking in every feeling, every sensation. The soft suppleness of her skin against his, the way she ran her fingers along her back, the way she groaned when he kissed her neck. The only way to describe the whole experience was—miraculous. When two people truly belong to one another, their souls collide like meteors against distant planets, clashing, yet fitting against and within each other in an indescribably perfect symphony of faultlessness.
It was what happened afterward that made him realize that a reconstruction of that night’s events may never again occur. And what a waste. To know that perfection could never again be achieved.
Three days. Seventy-two hours. That’s how long Angela and Brennan spent in the cold cellar. That’s how long Hodgins agonized over the loss of Angela. That’s how long it took for Booth to finally admit to himself that he… He truly, unregrettably, utterly loved Temperance “Bones” Brennan. That’s also how long he believed she was dead.
On January first, Booth woke up from a restless night of sleep. The alarm clock wailed. He reached over and yanked it from the wall, ripping the wire cord from the plastic contraption. He rolled out of bed and went straight for the living room. He hadn’t bothered shaving in two days. He hadn’t bothered to wear anything but jeans and tees to work.
Booth knew three things. One, nobody had heard from either woman in three days. Two, there was a serial killer out there. And thirdly, there was a chance he had gotten his hands on Brennan and Angela. They both fit the victim profile: Thirties, single, living alone.
How did he not see it? How had he not gone out of his way to protect Bones? And now she was gone and he would never be able to tell her that he loved her. If he could only erase the past and start again, he would go out on that line. He would take her from everything that threatened her. He would let her know how much she meant to him.
At a quarter past eleven, Booth’s cell phone rang. He let it go to voice mail, not wanting to make small talk with Cam. Cam meant well. She only meant to comfort him, but it just made the day that much more painful, that much harder to wake up, to eat, to breathe. At twenty past, the phone rang again. Once again, the voice mail caught it. Booth reached for the control and turned on the television. He watched like a drone ESPN, not taking in a single word that came from the TV. At twenty-two past, the phone rang again. Booth groaned inwardly and reached for the phone. By then, the voicemail had gotten the third message and Booth let it play.
“Booth? Pick up. G-d dammit, Booth, pick up the G-d d-mn phone. Booth! Turn on the news.”
Booth’s breath caught in this throat at the sound of the urgency in Cam’s voice. He flipped to the Channel 9. At first nothing important was on. A car accident on 395, a bank robber arrested.
Then, there it was.
“On another front, in an interesting turn of events, two women were found alive today. They were kidnapped and held hostage for nearly three days in the basement of who is suspected to be The Duct Tape Strangler. The women, whose names have not yet been released, are in stable condition at the George Washington University Hospital. We’ll have more to come as details come to light…”
Booth jumped to his feet and threw on shoes, forgoing the jacket, despite the 27 degree weather, and ran out to the SUV. The drive to the hospital was a blur. Looking back on it, he only remembered the thoughts that ran through his head and the tears of thanks that blurred his vision.
He pushed past throngs of reporters who clogged the main entrance. A few recognized Booth from previous stories they had done and immediately threw microphones in his face.
“Agent Booth! Agent Booth! Who are the women? What is their condition? Has The Duct Tape Strangler been arrested? Who is he? Where’s Dr. Brennan? Is she involved in the investigation? Where is she?”
That last question was like throwing needles through his heart. He didn’t know where she was. He didn’t know how Angela and Bones were.
He pushed past them and to the main desk. He flashed his badge and without a word, a young woman with red hair led him down the halls. Police officers held off the reporters as the past by.
“Booth!”
He turned toward the familiar voice. Hodgins was running up to him.
“Where’s Angie?”
“Are you family?” The receptionist asked.
Hodgins hesitated, then replied, “I hope I will be.”
Booth smiled weakly and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “He’s with me.”
The woman nodded and led the two men down the hall.
“Ms. Montenegro is in 207. Dr. Brennan is in 209.” He nodded at the adjacent rooms.
Hodgins didn’t waste time in entering the room.
Angela turned toward the sound of the opening door. “Hodgins?”
His eyes welled with tears at the sight of Angela in the hospital bed, several shades paler than usual, lips dried and cracked from thirst, eyes sunken and dark. He walked up and held her hand tightly in his.
“Why are you crying?” Her voice was softened from exhaustion.
He only reached up and tucked strands of hair behind her ears. “Angela, I—I thought I lost you.”
She tightened her grip around his hand as salty streams streaked her cheeks, “You can’t lose me, Hodgins.”
He leaned close and kissed her, “I love you. G-d, I—I can’t spend another day away from you, Angela. If this is what life will be like without you, then—Then I don’t want to draw another breath on this earth. I can’t live without you.”
She reached up and wiped tears from his cheeks.
Hodgins reached for his pocket and held out her diamond engagement ring. “Marry me, Angela. And this time it’s forever.”
She studied his face for a second, “You didn’t pawn it?” She tried to be wry, but it came off weakly.
His face grew serious as he lifted her hand and slipped the ring on her finger. “The truth is, Angie… I’ve always carried it in my pocket. I—I don’t know, it’s silly.”
Angela reached up and touched his cheek, “You’ve kept in your pocket all this time?”
He nodded.
“That’s the craziest, sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.”
The two laughed between tears as they kissed.
--
Booth hesitated, then turned the handle. Inside, Bones was pulling on her boots, zipping the sides. Then she stood, getting ready to throw her jacket on.
“Woah! Woah! Bones! Where are you going?”
She looked at him, stunned to see him. “Booth?”
The two simply looked at one another across the room for several seconds. Emotions turned within their hearts as they looked at each other. Just minutes before, Booth was mourning the loss of his partner, now she stood before him. Beautiful, ethereal, perfect, despite the white bandage around her head. Not just despite it, because of it. Everything made her just that much more beautiful.
He walked quickly up to her, standing so close they could feel each others’ body heat. He was shaking from adrenaline, a culmination of running through the hospital and knowing that she was alive—and that he was about to make what might be the biggest mistake or the best mistake of his life.
“Bones, I—I can’t believe you’re here.”
“What? The hospital? I have a laceration on the base of my scalp from…” She paused, knowing she was being a tad too literal. “You mean alive?”
He stepped forward, their bodies pressed close to one another, and touched her face softly. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life, Bones. I—I can’t let you be on that list, too.”
“I don’t know…”
He kissed her forehead. Her breath caught in her throat as she felt his warm lips brush against her cheeks, her jaw, her temples. Then he moved his hand behind her head to draw her close.
“Ow,” she yelped, reaching her hand to her head.
Booth flinched, knowing he had gotten a little too carried away. “Sorry.”
“That’s… it’s OK.”
“Is it?”
She wrapped her arm around his neck. “Yes.”
He kissed her lightly, testing the waters. The waters were definitely warm, definitely inviting. Then they kissed deeply, hungrily, passionately, allowing their mouths to part, tongues to dance, hands to touch places that had otherwise been off limits.
Brennan and Angela were released from the hospital that day, neither needing more hospitalization, both needing rest and fluids. Angela noted Booth and Brennan holding hands as they left the hospital. That night, Booth stayed over and Bones’ place, making sure she had the things she needed, water, rest, food. She curled up against him as the New Yorkers on television partied and a clock counted down the time.
“Need anything?” Booth asked.
She nodded, “I could use some aspirin.”
Booth stood up and went to the bathroom to retrieve the aspirin, leaving Brennan on the couch to think over the events of the day. Just hours before she had been trapped. Just hours before he had thought she could be dead. Now they were on the couch together. It was all so confusing. One minute partners, the next—what were they? Kissing? Holding hands? The closeness was wonderful, of course, but then there were these indescribable feelings welling up inside of her when he held her close, checked her head, kissed her softly. And there was something behind all of the kisses—sadness, happiness? What was it? And why was it so hard to pinpoint what she was feeling? It was like the dam had been destroyed, like the solar flares had reached earth, like volcanoes were exploding, the earth moved—not to be cliché, fires spread, her heart had this pang in it when he held her close…
She stood and walked into the bathroom. Booth smiled as he heard her enter, but continued pealing little white pills from their foil packaging.
“Booth?”
He looked up, a perplexed look marked his face at the sound of her voice, a sound he had never heard before. The sound of confusion. “Bones? What’s up?”
She reached out her hand, which he took in his, then she led him to the bedroom. He made love to her slowly, careful not to jolt her head injury, but taking in every feeling, every sensation. The soft suppleness of her skin against his, the way she ran her fingers along her back, the way she groaned when he kissed her neck. The only way to describe the whole experience was—miraculous. When two people truly belong to one another, their souls collide like meteors against distant planets, clashing, yet fitting against and within each other in an indescribably perfect symphony of faultlessness.
It was what happened afterward that made him realize that a reconstruction of that night’s events may never again occur. And what a waste. To know that perfection could never again be achieved.
Re: A Match Made in Lisdoonvarna
Chapter 9: Taking It Back
The sun filtered through the blinds, casting pale shadows on the two who were intertwined. Booth opened his eyes slowly. Brennan had already been awake for several minutes. While Booth was in complete bliss, she was in complete hell.
Yes, it was true that that night had been wonderful. It had been more than wonderful. It scared her to even recount the minutes, but at the same time she wanted to replay them in her head over and over. The way he touched her, the way he moved against her body, knowing what felt right, and what felt wrong, as if he had been in her head all along.
And it scared the crap out of her.
But that wasn't the most frightening thought of all...
Booth tightened his grip, slipping his hand under her breast and pulling her closer.
The most frightening thing of all is that the one man who knew her, who she could depend on thoroughly, no matter what the situation, he could leave. He hadn't before, but that was when they were colleagues. This was so frighteningly different. Relationships are fragile, she knew that. They broke, they fell apart, people left each other. Those were facts. And she had come face-to-face with those facts numerous times. Men coming and leaving.
And now, the one man who had never left her, was on the rocky ground called Relationship. He wasn't bound to her by a contract, by an employer, by professional creed. He was bound to her by a heart that was human. Humans are faulty by nature. They break each others hearts. They hurt each other. They hate each other. They lie, they cheat, they steal, they murder.
Oh, G-d, it's all a mistake, she thought. A tear slipped from the corner of her eye to the pillow.
Booth began to move to awaken her, but he felt her body tense up as he moved. "Bones?"
She didn't reply.
"What's wrong?" Instantly, the same fear that gripped her was gripping him.
He gently pulled her so she was facing him. He could see she had been crying and she avoided his eye contact.
"Bones?"
She avoided it still.
And then... he felt angry. Five years he had spent... loving her and avoiding her. There was no d-mn way she was going to run any more.
"Talk to me."
And then she looked at him. "It's all a mistake, Booth."
His jaw muscles tensed. "No. It's not."
"Yes. It is, Booth."
"No, G-d dammit, it's not."
She sat up bolt upright in bed. "How dare you speak to me like that." Her voice was low and dangerous. Every second she spoke to him reaffirmed her fears.
The anger softened on his face, "Bones, I'm sorry. I just... I can't lose you like this."
"Why do you think you're going to lose me?" He's going to leave. Just like every one else in my life.
"Bones," Booth put his feet to the floor, his back to her. He ran his hands through his hair. Then he stood up and faced her, hands akimbo. "For three days, Bones, I thought you were dead. You have no idea how much... You have no idea how scared I was. Nobody knew where you were. There was a killer on the lose. I just don't want you to backtrack, that's all."
"Backtrack? You don't trust a word that comes out of my mouth? Not even my actions mean anything to you? We had sex, Booth. What more do you want from me?" Her voice peaked.
Booth rounded the bed and stood in front of her. She stood up so she could meet his gaze.
"Bones, we didn't have sex."
She was silent a second, trying to figure out what he was saying. "Of--of course we did."
"No," he grasped an upper arm in each of his hands. "We made love, and if you don't know the difference..."
"Then what?"
His lips thinned before he spoke, "I thought you had changed. I--I don't know. That somehow you'd become a little more human, Bones. Just a little more empathetic. That you'd know the difference between making love and having sex. Last night was making love, Temperance."
"Human? What? Am I an extraterrestrial now!?" Her sight narrowed as she glared him down.
"No. You're... That's not what I meant."
"Booth, every syllable out of your mouth only solidifies my resolve that last night was an absolute mistake," she stopped and held her breath.
Booth stepped forward and kissed her forcefully. "I love you, Bones."
The words chilled her, making the skin on her body turn to gooseflesh. "You don't love me, Booth." She fought back tears as she spoke, knowing she was ripping his heart out as she said it.
"Yes, I do."
"No, you don't!"
Booth couldn't help but to wonder what the heck was going on. What happened that she had gone from being open to closed off in a matter of hours. And he couldn't help but to think that she was slipping away from him once again. But as crazy as it might seem, being together only made Brennan feel like he was slipping away from her, too.
A thousand thoughts and emotions spun in his mind like a tornado. She had used him. She had lied to him. She knew he would never make love to her if she didn't feel the same way he did about her. She just wanted comfort. She never wanted him.
"Yes, I do," he growled. His voice had turned from warm to uncharacteristically cold.
"No!"
"Then what, Bones? You lied to me? You don't care for me?"
And she knew--or felt like she knew--what she had to say to him to make everything go back to normal. "Booth--" Her voice faltered. "I... I could never care for you like that. I never will." It was a lie. A terrible lie. And she knew that. It thrilled her and tore her to pieces all at once.
Booth tightened his grip on her arms. "You aren't the woman I thought you were, then. You're cold. You're--" He tried to keep his eyes dry. The words he spoke were lies only a few minutes before. Now they were a painful truth, "You're callous. You're not the same woman I loved last night." With that, he pushed her on the bed and stormed out of the room. He gathered his clothing as he went and left Brennan on the bed where she curled into a ball and sobbed, feeling like she'd lost two things: a friend and a potential lover.
After that day, Booth apologized for his actions and his words. But nothing could ever take them back. She quickly forgave him, of course, eager to get back their working relationship. And despite what you or I might think, the working relationship was better than before. Mostly because both tried their hardest to put all of their energies into that, leaving none left for flirtations and coffee breaks.
--
Brennan turned down a little street. The Fermona House soon came into sight. The streets were darkened as residents, exhausted from the long day of working and/or partying, had all gone to sleep. Brennan tightened the sweater around her torso as a cold wind swept in.
That night was full of painful memories and sweet memories. Memories of how gentle he was, how loving, how angry, how hurt. She quickly tried to blink away tears and the picture of Booth with a look that she hoped she would never have to see again on his countenance.
It wasn't uncommon for her to remind herself that it was the right decision to end the relationship. It was better this way.
Or was it?
Everything had felt so stilted since January. Everything was off kilter and painfully wrong. To any outward observer, everything was peachy keen. Nothing had changed. Everything was the same. They were friends just the same, partners just as ever before. That was far from the truth, however.
As she rounded the corner and walked up the path, she watched her feet. She kicked a small stone, which tumbled up and was caught beneath something. She looked up and saw Booth, who had pinned the rock beneath his sneaker.
He stood with his hands in his pockets, a relaxed, yet expressionless look on his face. "I think we need to talk," was all he said.
The sun filtered through the blinds, casting pale shadows on the two who were intertwined. Booth opened his eyes slowly. Brennan had already been awake for several minutes. While Booth was in complete bliss, she was in complete hell.
Yes, it was true that that night had been wonderful. It had been more than wonderful. It scared her to even recount the minutes, but at the same time she wanted to replay them in her head over and over. The way he touched her, the way he moved against her body, knowing what felt right, and what felt wrong, as if he had been in her head all along.
And it scared the crap out of her.
But that wasn't the most frightening thought of all...
Booth tightened his grip, slipping his hand under her breast and pulling her closer.
The most frightening thing of all is that the one man who knew her, who she could depend on thoroughly, no matter what the situation, he could leave. He hadn't before, but that was when they were colleagues. This was so frighteningly different. Relationships are fragile, she knew that. They broke, they fell apart, people left each other. Those were facts. And she had come face-to-face with those facts numerous times. Men coming and leaving.
And now, the one man who had never left her, was on the rocky ground called Relationship. He wasn't bound to her by a contract, by an employer, by professional creed. He was bound to her by a heart that was human. Humans are faulty by nature. They break each others hearts. They hurt each other. They hate each other. They lie, they cheat, they steal, they murder.
Oh, G-d, it's all a mistake, she thought. A tear slipped from the corner of her eye to the pillow.
Booth began to move to awaken her, but he felt her body tense up as he moved. "Bones?"
She didn't reply.
"What's wrong?" Instantly, the same fear that gripped her was gripping him.
He gently pulled her so she was facing him. He could see she had been crying and she avoided his eye contact.
"Bones?"
She avoided it still.
And then... he felt angry. Five years he had spent... loving her and avoiding her. There was no d-mn way she was going to run any more.
"Talk to me."
And then she looked at him. "It's all a mistake, Booth."
His jaw muscles tensed. "No. It's not."
"Yes. It is, Booth."
"No, G-d dammit, it's not."
She sat up bolt upright in bed. "How dare you speak to me like that." Her voice was low and dangerous. Every second she spoke to him reaffirmed her fears.
The anger softened on his face, "Bones, I'm sorry. I just... I can't lose you like this."
"Why do you think you're going to lose me?" He's going to leave. Just like every one else in my life.
"Bones," Booth put his feet to the floor, his back to her. He ran his hands through his hair. Then he stood up and faced her, hands akimbo. "For three days, Bones, I thought you were dead. You have no idea how much... You have no idea how scared I was. Nobody knew where you were. There was a killer on the lose. I just don't want you to backtrack, that's all."
"Backtrack? You don't trust a word that comes out of my mouth? Not even my actions mean anything to you? We had sex, Booth. What more do you want from me?" Her voice peaked.
Booth rounded the bed and stood in front of her. She stood up so she could meet his gaze.
"Bones, we didn't have sex."
She was silent a second, trying to figure out what he was saying. "Of--of course we did."
"No," he grasped an upper arm in each of his hands. "We made love, and if you don't know the difference..."
"Then what?"
His lips thinned before he spoke, "I thought you had changed. I--I don't know. That somehow you'd become a little more human, Bones. Just a little more empathetic. That you'd know the difference between making love and having sex. Last night was making love, Temperance."
"Human? What? Am I an extraterrestrial now!?" Her sight narrowed as she glared him down.
"No. You're... That's not what I meant."
"Booth, every syllable out of your mouth only solidifies my resolve that last night was an absolute mistake," she stopped and held her breath.
Booth stepped forward and kissed her forcefully. "I love you, Bones."
The words chilled her, making the skin on her body turn to gooseflesh. "You don't love me, Booth." She fought back tears as she spoke, knowing she was ripping his heart out as she said it.
"Yes, I do."
"No, you don't!"
Booth couldn't help but to wonder what the heck was going on. What happened that she had gone from being open to closed off in a matter of hours. And he couldn't help but to think that she was slipping away from him once again. But as crazy as it might seem, being together only made Brennan feel like he was slipping away from her, too.
A thousand thoughts and emotions spun in his mind like a tornado. She had used him. She had lied to him. She knew he would never make love to her if she didn't feel the same way he did about her. She just wanted comfort. She never wanted him.
"Yes, I do," he growled. His voice had turned from warm to uncharacteristically cold.
"No!"
"Then what, Bones? You lied to me? You don't care for me?"
And she knew--or felt like she knew--what she had to say to him to make everything go back to normal. "Booth--" Her voice faltered. "I... I could never care for you like that. I never will." It was a lie. A terrible lie. And she knew that. It thrilled her and tore her to pieces all at once.
Booth tightened his grip on her arms. "You aren't the woman I thought you were, then. You're cold. You're--" He tried to keep his eyes dry. The words he spoke were lies only a few minutes before. Now they were a painful truth, "You're callous. You're not the same woman I loved last night." With that, he pushed her on the bed and stormed out of the room. He gathered his clothing as he went and left Brennan on the bed where she curled into a ball and sobbed, feeling like she'd lost two things: a friend and a potential lover.
After that day, Booth apologized for his actions and his words. But nothing could ever take them back. She quickly forgave him, of course, eager to get back their working relationship. And despite what you or I might think, the working relationship was better than before. Mostly because both tried their hardest to put all of their energies into that, leaving none left for flirtations and coffee breaks.
--
Brennan turned down a little street. The Fermona House soon came into sight. The streets were darkened as residents, exhausted from the long day of working and/or partying, had all gone to sleep. Brennan tightened the sweater around her torso as a cold wind swept in.
That night was full of painful memories and sweet memories. Memories of how gentle he was, how loving, how angry, how hurt. She quickly tried to blink away tears and the picture of Booth with a look that she hoped she would never have to see again on his countenance.
It wasn't uncommon for her to remind herself that it was the right decision to end the relationship. It was better this way.
Or was it?
Everything had felt so stilted since January. Everything was off kilter and painfully wrong. To any outward observer, everything was peachy keen. Nothing had changed. Everything was the same. They were friends just the same, partners just as ever before. That was far from the truth, however.
As she rounded the corner and walked up the path, she watched her feet. She kicked a small stone, which tumbled up and was caught beneath something. She looked up and saw Booth, who had pinned the rock beneath his sneaker.
He stood with his hands in his pockets, a relaxed, yet expressionless look on his face. "I think we need to talk," was all he said.
Re: A Match Made in Lisdoonvarna
Uh-oh! Please fix it.
mereva- Head of Forensics
- Number of posts : 1841
Age : 122
Say What You Want : I'm frustrated and very annoyed by HH's 'brilliant ideas'.
All the credits for my avatar go to christinaof94 from LJ.
Registration date : 2008-06-15
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