Seeley Booth knew what it felt like to be tortured. He'd endured all types of pain in his lifetime, the kind that made him want to scream til his throat was raw and pull out his hair; anything to make it stop. He'd survived and come out of it a better man. But this form of torture, it was the worst he had ever experienced. It was brutal and seemingly endless and left him with an ache that just didn't go away. Screaming didn't help, pulling his hair didn't help, he couldn't make it go away. Sprawled on his tormentor's couch, he was so enrapt in his thoughts he didn't hear his torturer enter the room.

"What do you have today, Booth?" Temperance Brennan asked her colleague as she set down some paperwork on her desk.

"Uh, a case," he responded lamely. Brennan raised her eyebrows and commented. "Really? I thought you were here for plumbing and maintenance." Booth groaned inwardly as he words made him recall a rather awkward conversation at the Bureau yesterday.

"Booth, man," one agent motioned to him. "You had to have gotten some action with her. I mean, it's been 4 years." Booth shook his head and took a sip of lukewarm coffee.

"No way," he told the group. "I respect her and our partnership too much." The other agents laughed and teased him.

"Well if I was you, I would have, you know, "checked out her plumbing" by now, if ya know what I mean," a man said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"What are you, 12?" Booth asked him, disgusted. It wasn't as if those thoughts hadn't been running through his mind since day one, but to hear Johnson put it in such crude terms made his blood boil.

"Oh come on, admit it Booth," Johnson argued. "You've had dirty thoughts about her before." Booth still denied it while inwardly he was chanting "yes yes yes yes a hundred times yes." His fellow agents shook their heads in disbelief.

"Whatever you say man."

"Booth!" Seeley jumped as someone shouted his name.

"Geez Bones," he complained, rubbing his ear to see if he could still hear.

"You weren't listening to me," she huffed, walking around her desk to stand in front of him. Arms crossed, she was the picture of stubbornness and sexiness rolled into one.

"Sorry, I must have drifted off," he mumbled he apology as he backed away from her. "Distance is good. Distance is VERY good," he thought. The further away he was the it easier it was to concentrate and keep his hands to himself.

Brennan sighed. He'd been acting so strange lately.

"Just tell me about our case, Booth," she demanded.



"So bossy," he thought as he cleared his throat. "Do not go down that road buddy. Do NOT think about her dominating you and shoving you against a wall and…DAMNIT!"

"Pieces of um, bone were uh, found in a woman's uhh, backyard," he stuttered. "Oh brilliant Seeley. Talk much?"

"…and?" Brennan asked.

"And what? There's bones, you're our bone girl. Let's move." He headed towards the door.

"Booth, number one, I don't just jump at your beck and call. And number two, I am not a girl," she informed him coldly. What was wrong with him?

"No you are most definitely not a girl. You are a tall, curvy woman with endless legs." "If you don't want to go fine. I can do this myself," he told her haughtily. "It'll make the car ride easier too," he thought. "I won't have to think about how easy it would be to pull over into a nice secluded spot and just ravage her."

"Actually you can't," she interrupted his rather dirty thoughts. "You don't know anything about skeletal remains and would probably compromise the crime scene and with that, any evidence. I'll be out soon. Just next time, ask, don't command. I'm not a dog."

Booth sighed. It was going to be a long day.

In the car

"I just don't understand why i'm not permitted to drive," she chattered away, unaware of her partner suffering 2 feet away from her. "You know I'm a competent driver."

"No, Temperance," he barked. "God I just sounded like a complete asshole," he thought. Brennan was taken aback. She had never heard that tone in conjunction with her name before.

"Booth, what is wrong with you?" she asked as he made a sharp right turn, sending her into the door.

"Nothing," he growled. "Nothing a little distance from you won't cure. Maybe I'll take a vacation when this case is closed. Somewhere far away, like Bermuda."

"Booth," she said, exasperated. Booth squealed to a stop. "We're here get out," he interjected before she could go on. Hopping out of the car, he practically sprinted to the scene, flashing his badge was he went. Brennan was perplexed, but followed him, albeit at a slower pace.

When she reached the backyard, Booth was deep in conversation with a uniformed man so Brennan looked around for the remains. Seeing none, she marched over the Booth and interrupted his conversation.

"Where are the remains, Booth?"



"Over there, ma'am," the stranger replied. "Under the yellow tape that says "Caution"."

"I'm well aware what a crime scene entails," she retorted hotly. "But I was addressing Booth. There are no visible remains." Booth grabbed her arm, harder then normal and towed her to the spot on the ground surrounded by yellow.

"There," he pointed at a bit of white sticking out from the ground.

"That?" Brennan asked him.

"Yeah. That's a bone, Bones," he said slowly.

"That bone is a phalange. There's not nearly enough here for me to examine. Why am I here Booth?" she complained.

"Look I don't know!" Booth exploded. "I got a call about some remains and I brought the expert over. It's not my fault!" And with that he stormed off to the car, leaving a stunned Brennan in his wake.