Special Agent Seeley Booth sat on his sofa in his messy apartment, eating Cheerios and wearing his Superman boxers. The TV wasn't on, but he was gazing at it absently anyway. Taking another bite, he let his mind wander to his partner. He wondered what she was doing at that moment. "Whatever it is, she's probably dressed better than I am," he thought to himself. He glanced around, barely taking in the mess, and wished very hard that she could be there with him.
As it happens, Dr. Temperance Brennan wasn't wearing anything that night. She was sitting in her bathtub, bubbles covering everything but her head, soft piano music playing in the background. A few candles, sugar-cookie scented, and a floor lamp were the only sources of light as the scientist attempted to relax after a long day. As she sighed contentedly, an image suddenly flashed across her mind. Booth, her partner, sat next to her on an unfamiliar sofa. He had one hand at her waist, the other on her cheek, as he peppered her neck with soft kisses.
As quickly as it had come, it was gone, and Dr. Brennan felt a little bit odd afterward. The scene had not troubled or disgusted her, or even made her uncomfortable. It felt… right. Her logic-driven brain couldn't figure out why, but sitting there in the bathtub, she began to feel lonely. Temperance wasn't one to leave a problem unresolved, so she decided (against her better judgment) to ask Dr. Sweets about it the next morning.
"Hey, morning, Bones," Agent Booth greeted his partner as he walked into her laboratory. "Got any updates for me on the Burnett case?" He pulled over a chair and sat next to Dr. Hodgins, who was examining something (Booth would rather not know what) through a microscope, completely absorbed.
"Not much," Brennan responded, "unless Hodgins can identify the substance we found under the victim's fingernails." She pulled her hair back into a ponytail and bent close to examine the remains on the table. "The second and third thoracic vertebrae appear to be fractured. She may have been struck from behind."
"Got it," Hodgins piped up suddenly. "It's grass seed. Commercial."
"Excellent work, Dr. Hodgins," Brennan said. "Now can you find out-"
"Who made it and where it was used recently? I'm on it." He carefully removed his sample from the microscope and hurried off to another part of the lab, leaving Booth and Brennan alone.
"Hey listen," he began, "the FBI wants you to come check out some remains they found in Norfolk. Apparently-" She cut him off.
"I'll catch up with you in a few minutes. I just need to ask Dr. Sweets something." She peeled off her gloves and stepped off the forensic platform, heading for the young psychologist's office. Booth trailed after her like a loyal St. Bernard. "I'll be right there," she insisted, steering him toward the exit.
"Come in!" Lance Sweets called in response to the knock on his office door. The door opened, and he was somewhat surprised at who he saw there. "Dr. Brennan – what a nice surprise. What can I do for you today?" She shut the door behind her and sat down on the couch where she and Booth sat for their sessions. Sweets moved to his wingback chair and grabbed her file, just in case. "What's on your mind?"
"I have a concern of a psychological nature," she told him carefully. Dr. Sweets was confused by this statement. Dr. Brennan usually didn't put much stock in psychology – she considered it to be inferior to her kind of science. She continued, "Why might one suddenly experience an emotion, with no prompting or stimuli?"
Sweets could see that Dr. Brennan was deeply troubled by something, but he knew she didn't realize it. She was probably just annoyed, on the surface, that she was feeling something she couldn't explain.
"Well, sometimes the subconscious can pull up memories or wants without the conscious mind realizing. These thoughts can affect how we're feeling." He watched her face as she said this. She began with a neutral, interested expression, but her face changed as she listened. Sweets would call what he saw a "subdued lightbulb moment." It wasn't the look she usually got when she figured something out about a set of remains, but he could tell that something had changed in her head.
After a few silent moments, she stood up. "Thank you, Dr. Sweets. That was very informative." She turned toward the door and started walking out.
"What? That's it?" he called after her.
"The FBI requires my services in Norfolk," she returned over her shoulder. "Booth and I will be back this evening for our regular session." She rounded the corner and was gone. Sweets heaved a sigh, made a not in her file, and got back to work.
Later that evening, Booth and Brennan found themselves in Dr. Sweets' office, nearing the end of yet another uneventful session. They had gone over the updates on their case, gotten the usual psycho-babble from the doctor, and were just about to leave when Sweets said, "So Dr. Brennan, are you going to tell me what your epiphany was?"
Bones looked up, surprised. "What?"
"When you talked to me this morning, I got the feeling that you'd had some sort of breakthrough. Would you like to share with the class?" he asked, grinning slightly and gesturing between himself and Agent Booth. Brennan cleared her throat, clearly uncomfortable.
"I was simply considering what you had told me," she replied dismissively. "It was… informative." By this point Booth was interested, too, and he leaned toward her to hear more. Sweets nodded, but with a disbelieving smile on his face – which, to his surprise, Dr. Brennan picked up on. "What? You don't believe me?" she demanded. Sweets could feel her becoming frustrated.
"I'm just interested to know what prompted you to ask what you did. What were you doing at the time? What were you thinking about?" He had fallen, hard, into therapist mode.
Booth's gaze shifted between the two like he was watching a tennis match, an expression of confusion contorting his face. Finally he asked, "Okay, would somebody like to tell me what I'm missing here? 'Cause I'm more than a little bit lost." Dr. Sweets turned expectantly toward Bones. She deliberated for a moment before she spoke.
"Fine," she said, defeated. "C'mon, Booth, let's get some coffee."
"He, what about me?" Dr. Sweets said desperately as the two gathered their things and prepared to leave. "This could be an important breakthrough for both of you! As your therapist, I feel that I should join you." The two partners headed for the door.
"Sorry, kid," Agent Booth replied, holding the office door while Brennan walked through it. "Our time's up at six, and it is now…" He consulted his watch dramatically, "six oh-one. See ya."
"Thank you," Brennan said to the waitress who brought over their coffee. She took a sip, deliberately avoiding Booth's gaze as he stirred in three or four packets of sugar to his drink. "That's highly unhealthy, Booth."
"I know, Bones." He sounded exasperated. "You tell me that every time we come here." A small smile softened his words. "So, are you doing to tell me what that thing with Sweets was all about?" He took a sip of coffee and flashed her that undeniable grin. She couldn't tell him no when he looked like that, and he knew it.
"You're trying to manipulate me by being charming," she accused.
"True," he allowed. "But you're still gonna tell me."
She shook her head, not sure whether to laugh or hit him. "All right. Fine. Full disclosure," she promised. "I was taking a bath last night and I had this… image flash across my mind. Afterward I felt lonely, and I asked Dr. Sweets why," she stated simply. He looked at her with raised eyebrows, and she knew what he was asking without him saying a word. Sighing, and rolling her eyes, she jumped ship. "It was you. Kissing me."
There. She had said it. She had only just realized she liked Booth as anything more than a partner, and here she was spilling her guts to him. He sat in stunned silence for a full thirty seconds before he was able to form a question. "And that made you lonely?" he asked finally. Bones was getting better at reading people, and she could clearly see the confusion written on his face. Unfortunately, she had absolutely no idea how to explain herself.
"We do need Sweets," she murmured. "He's excellent at deciphering irrational feelings, since he specializes in psychology." She looked up into Booth's warm eyes, willing him to understand. At once, he stood up. "Booth, wh-" But then he slid in next to her, and she moved closer to the window to allow him room.
After studying her face and finding only wonder and confusion, he took his chance. "Like this?" he questioned softly. He gently brushed her hair off her neck and kissed it softly, just how she'd imagined the previous night. Brennan struggled to control her breathing as he whispered in her ear, "Like that, Bones?"
"Yes," she managed. "Like that. I think…" She turned her head to look at him full on. Her voice stronger, she declared, "I think I love you, Booth. I think I want to spend my life with you."
He flashed her that smile again, the one he saved especially for her. That was all he had needed to hear. "I love you, too, Bones. Frankly I'm surprised it took you so long to figure it out, being a genius and all." She did hit him then, but only in jest. He ran his hand over her soft cheek, smiling blissfully. Then he slowly pressed his lips to hers, finally savoring her taste after far too many years.
"Let's get out of here, Seeley." He happily obliged, tossing a few bills on the table before walking from the diner, hand in hand with the love of his life.