Disclaimer: Bones and all related elements, characters and indicia © Kathy Reichs and FOX Home Entertainment. All Rights Reserved. All characters and situations-save those created by the authors for use solely on this website-are copyright Kathy Reichs and FOX Home Entertainment.

A/N: I have to thank my beta Jess for all the help she has given me with this one-shot – Thank You!

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Booth's – Rage

The punch landed as he dropped his right shoulder. Stepping back, he blocked the follow up kick with his right thigh and bloodied his opponent's nose with a left jab. As the blood started gushing down her front, she stepped back and tapped her thigh three times, signaling that she 'gives'.

Trotting to his corner, he scanned the room for another opponent; finding no takers, he growled and crossed through the ropes and started taking his frustration out on the heavy bag.

After what seemed like hours, he collapsed to the mat and lay back. Thankful for the oblivion of exhaustion, he didn't hear the approaching footsteps, or notice the silence that had enveloped the FBI gym.

"Booth."

Recognizing the voice of his superior, he clumsily got to his feet. "Director Cullen." He rasped out.

"My office in 10…"

"Yes, Sir."

"… and be sure to shower."

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Booth stood at attention at the desk as he waited for Director Cullen to address him. After a few minutes, "Booth, relax, take a seat, this isn't the military."

"Yes, Sir." He replied as he sank into the chair.

"What the hell do you think you are doing? I have reports from the gym that you are taking on all comers and fighting like your life depends on it."

"Well…"

"I've talked to Dr. Wyatt and he seems to think that you are compensating for something that you have lost. As near as I can tell, you've lost nothing lately; no friends, no family, no colleagues, no property and you damn well better not be gambling again."

"No, Sir. It's personal."

Looking at Booth like a father would an errant child, Cullen sighs, "Just tell her."

"Sir?"

"Don't play dumb Booth. Be honest with her and work it out. I will not have a distracted agent jeopardizing our work in the field. You are on leave until next week."

Weakly, he responded, "Yes, Sir."

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He stood watching her. Finding her on a Wednesday afternoon had been easy since the Epps affair. Two hours, from 11:30 to 1:30, she set aside to spend at her gun club practicing with her new revolver. Not noticed by her, he took the stand next to her and emptied a clip into his target, except for the last round which he put through the forehead of her target.

As she stepped over to chew the transgressor out, she recognized her partner. This recognition brought a grin to his face, but didn't slow her acerbic words at all.

After several minutes of a lecture about etiquette on the gun range, she asked, "What are you doing here?"

"Just making sure that my partner won't shoot me in the field."

"No you're not."

Giving her one of his 'charm' smiles he started to say something and changed his mind.

"What is it Booth!" She demanded.

Looking down, he took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. I want to talk about us."

"Why, are you being reassigned?"

"No… No, nothing like that. I want to talk about us; you and me, not our partnership."

"I don't understand."

"Bones… Temperance, I don't want you to date Sully any more."

"You have no say in who I date!"

"I know…"

Cutting him off, she berated him. "I will see who I like, my personal life is none of your business and I would thank you to remember that in the future."

"I understand," he replied, almost bashfully. "It's just…"

"Stop it Booth!" Quickly picking up steam, she got into really letting him have it. "I enjoy our partnership, but this infernal meddling you do in my personal life has to stop. I know my father told you to look out for me, but that in no way gives you the right to run my life, or my feelings…"

Recognizing that she was not going to let him get a word in, he stopped her the only way he could think of; he kissed her. It was soft and gentle with the desired affect of stopping her rant. "Please listen Temperance." He said after stepping back from his stunned partner. "I don't want you to date Sully because you should be dating m…"

Recognizing his jealousy; she stopped him with her fingers to his lips. "Don't you dare!" She angrily snarled, her eyes searching his for…

XxxxxxxxxxxxX

Tall and strong he stood there, clad in black with his FBI issue body armor at his side. The moonlight bounced off of his dark eyes as he stared at her.

She stood draped in translucent blue fabric, her auburn hair gently danced in the solar breeze as she stared at the object of her affections.

His gaze never wavered, as if a blink would break the spell he had on her. He knew her for who she was and he would never let her be harmed for she was his.

Her breath quickened as she looked at the chiseled chest his partially buttoned shirt left exposed. Almost shyly, she smiled, and then her eyes locked on his. The desire there echoed her own.

Slowly, he nodded his head and a gentle smile graced his lips.

With a dancer's grace, she glid toward him, slowly she dragged her toes with each step.

The breeze increased with each step, the light cloth whipped behind her like a defiant and proud flag.

Upon reaching him, the breeze died as the universe recognized what they had finally accepted. She placed her hand on his chest and smiled up into his intense gaze.

Seconds stretched as their locked gaze spoke of their wants, desires, needs and of course… love.

As he bent his head down, she rose up on her toes, and their lips met…

He awoke sweating and gasping for breath. Running his hand through his dark hair he frowned and turned to the place beside him where she belonged. Sitting up, he turned and looked in the mirror and saw disappointment and longing in his face. Missing her, he lay back on his pillow and said the one word that summed up his feelings, "Damn."

Not knowing what else to do he got out of bed, went to the kitchen, pulled a six-pack of beer from the fridge and turned on the TV. Flipping through a hundred channels of infomercials, he settled onto the couch. Chugging half of the first beer, Sully realized that it was going to be another long night.

The End

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