Here is a Sunday treat for all of us

March 17, 2011

Dear Bones,

I just got back from taking you home tonight. With all the snow from the blizzard still on the streets, I wanted to make sure you got home safe. I still can smell the ashes of the papers we burned this evening in the living room.

We finally talked, right? I mean, we really talked to each other, open and honestly.

That happened because we were trapped in the elevator of my building for most of the day since I wanted those Phillie stadium seats so badly.

Maybe it was a stupid idea, but I've got such fond memories of that one perfect day with my father at the World Series, and those seats brought them all back to me. I hope you understand that. I really do think they were worth the trouble.

Sweets had been very annoying while we were stuck, and he kept pushing us to talk about the 'Hannah' situation and how we deal with everything now. I got really pissed at him. Throwing peas at him was simply not enough...way not enough. It's none of his business. Me and you are very capable of figuring the Hannah thing out for ourselves, thank you very much.

But Bones, there is one thing I do have to tell you. You're still so clueless sometimes when it comes to what you do to me...physically, that is.

Like when you just grabbed me by my shoulders and pushed me right against your hips. You really made me breathless for a moment. I didn't know where to put my hands, and I didn't even dare to move just one inch. To make it worse, Sweets chose that moment to come back from visiting Mrs. Ross. Do you have any idea how he might interpret something like that?

Lucky for me that he didn't show up when you gave me that Thai massage thing. He would've had a field day with that, okay?

You know, I should be used to feeling your hands on me by now. You've fixed my back more than once, you've grabbed me by my tie, stripped me down to my boxers to collect evidence, and even pushed your fingers into my mouth to look for an infected tooth or to demonstrate how someone was killed by a hook. I think you regard me as your property, thinking you can go anywhere you want, whenever you want, because sometimes you really don't have any boundaries.

So you just decided to give me a massage, and no, not on my back, even though that's what hurt, but on my thigh. Really far up my thigh, to be precise, and you came really, really close to … you know, my junk. I was starting to react to your touch and not just a little bit, but, you know...full bang. I know you must've noticed. You were close enough, and I saw that smug smile on your face. You were enjoying yourself, weren't you?

Maybe that's why we finally ended up talking about us while we were stuck in the elevator. We talked about being together and even making love and how good it would be between us. You gave me some strange ideas, you know? I was glad I had a blanket lying around, so I could use it as a cover, because those ideas were making me a little...uncomfortable.

But truth to be told, later when we sat there together in my apartment, talking about a date when we could move forward, that was the best part of the day.

I know now this is going somewhere. We're finally on our way to forever.

I'm very sure that you didn't mind the kiss on your cheek when I said good night in front of your apartment. It just felt right at the time.

I took your smile as a signal that maybe that could happen again in the next few days.

So I'm finally back to spelling it out again.

I LOVE YOU!

Booth

This is one of my favorite episodes (oh I have some). I have the DVD and you can listen to the commentary of Emily Deschanel and David Boreanaz for this episode. Hilarious. Emily had just found out that she was pregnant and David couldn't get over it that she was pregnant with his baby and he had no clue. "Close to my junk" were originally commentary from David and Emily on this scene. Hope you enjoyed this letter.