A/N: I don't own Bones, yeah, yeah, yeah, just get on with the story, I know :D Hope you like it, guys! Oh, and, in the timeline of this story, a certain, unmentionable, terrible blonde storyline never happens in season 6. Once you finish, you'll know what I mean. Alright, you probably already know now.
"Did the dam break?" the FBI psychologist said, a stressed tone in his voice. Sweets had just learnt something that defied everything he had ever deduced about Booth and Brennan's relationship; they had kissed. He had always said that if they kissed, then the dam would break.
Booth bit his lip slightly, and glanced over at Brennan.
"We are not spending the night together!" Temperance Brennan giggled as she spun through the pouring rain to an awaiting cab. Her hair still flicked around in the cold night, although it was now slightly damp.
"Of course we aren't. Why?" Seeley Booth responded, an ounce of desire in a voice filled with longing.
"Tequila." Brennan replied, flashing her smile back at the FBI agent staring at her. She opened the cab door and got in.
"Hey, hey, hold the cab! Hold the cab, hey!" Booth ran over to the window and knocked on it. Brennan rolled it down.
"So you're afraid that when I look at you in the morning, I'll have regrets?" he asked.
"That would never happen." Brennan replied, cheekily. She signalled for the cab driver to go, but Booth stuck his arm through the window, causing him to stop.
"Hey!" yelled the disgruntled taxi driver.
"Just, just... here." Booth pulled out his wallet and threw the driver a 50 dollar note.
"Good man." he said, turning off the engine. Booth ran around to the other side of the cab, opened the door and got in.
"Booth. No." she said.
"You didn't answer my question. That's not fair." Booth smiled.
"What is your question?"
"Are you afraid that you're going to look at me in the morning and have regrets?" Booth said, sliding his hand slightly closer towards Brennan's. His piercing brown eyes were locked on only one thing in the entire world.
"No. I'm sorry, Booth, but I do not understand your question, therefore cannot provide an answer." Brennan replied, turning away slightly. Brennan was never one to be read by other people. But Booth knew. She wanted it. She just didn't want to make a move to the next step, so Booth was going to have to carry her up there.
"Do you want to know what I'm afraid of?" Booth said, moving his face towards Brennan's.
"What?"
"I'm afraid," Booth said, breathing down Brennan's neck, "that if we start... then I won't be able to stop." Booth slipped his hands around Brennan's jaw and kissed her passionately. Their tongues danced in a fiery display of something more than just tequila. As sparse breaths made their way from the lovers rarely parting lips, Booth nonchalantly waved the taxi driver along, the driver whom he had wrapped around his little finger as long as he had 50 dollar notes at his disposal. Seeley had won big the night before, a big haul at the tables meant that he had money to burn.
"Alright." the taxi driver slipped a smirk before driving off to the location that Brennan had specified. The two were still passionately connected, pants and moans coming from the back of the cab. Brennan placed her hand on Booth's chest and pushed him away.
"What?" Booth asked, sitting up a little straighter and attempting to catch his breath.
"You just fired me." Brennan said, sitting back and straightening her top.
"I was forced to!" Booth said, trying to explain his way back into the beautiful woman's good books.
"So how are you going to explain the fact that we will both be very," Brennan giggled slightly "hungover tomorrow."
"I'll just say that I had to get myself drunk to fire you." Booth said, smiling slightly, in a mesmerised bliss at Brennan's adorable laugh.
"And how will we explain the fact that we had sexual intercourse when my best friend and colleague deduces the fact?" she smiled. Usually, at this point, Booth would put on his defensive persona at anyone even mentioning another person knowing about his personal life. But he knew that he was going to lose her again if he couldn't answer the question.
"Then you sit there and you tell her straight. Because the truth is, Bones, that lying never gets you anywhere." Booth said, leaning closer to Brennan's face as he said it.
"Don't call me Bones." Brennan said, tugging on the lapels of Booth's shirt and pulling him closer to her, the two coming close to becoming one as their lips entwined. She pulled him close, smelling the scent of alcohol and testosterone that now filled the back of the cab. She curled her arms around his back and he nipped at her neck. She clasped onto the back hem of his jacket, pulling on it sharply and stiffly. A soft moan escaped her lips as an electric shock ran up her spine, causing her back to arch and her muscles to tighten.
As the cab stopped, Booth got out first, rushing out onto the sidewalk and watching Brennan tipsily get out after him. He slipped his hand around her waist and helped her up the stairs, and watched her unlock her door in anticipation. As soon as she did so, he placed his hands on her, one on her back and one under the back of her knees, picking her up.
"Booth!" she squealed, giggling. Booth realised the Brennan was a whole different person when she was drunk. When sober, she was the hot, kick-ass forensic anthropologist, but when drunk, she was irrational, kind of like everyone else. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he carried her across the threshold of her bedroom. He placed her on the bed gently, as she slid back towards the bed head, kicking off her shoes as she did so.
Booth propped himself up over her as she undid his tie and threw it on the ground. She began to unbutton his shirt, revealing his toned chest and stomach. She ran her fingers down his abs as he slipped the shirt over both shoulders and off his arms. He rolled next to her, pulling her on top of him. Brennan laughed, slightly more throatily now, more like normal. Booth flashed a smile at her as he began to unbutton her blouse, revealing her bra, her assets nearly falling out due to the positioning of her body. Brennan noticed his distraction-slash-mesmerisation.
"Are you going to continue staring or are we going to start this back up again?" Brennan asked, a cheeky smile playing across her face as she sat on the flat of Booth's stomach.
"Please, feel free to continue." Booth replied, playfully. He laid back as Brennan pulled his belt out from around his waist. He smirked and placed his hands around her waist, pulling her closer to him. She kissed him passionately, as he ran his hand up towards the curves of her back. He began to undo her bra. She looked at him, a look of determination and passion in her eyes.
"Booth?" she asked.
"Yes, Bones?" he said, breathily.
"What does that mean?" Brennan asked, sitting up slightly.
"What?" Booth asked, puzzled.
"What does that mean?" Brennan asked. Booth's mind returned to the present day and realised where he was. He was sitting in the office of a 24 year old psychologist who still believed that he had sex with his partner. Which he did.
"Well he... he still thinks that we slept together." Booth said, quietly.
"Wha..." Brennan slipped a slight nervous smile, but regained a blank expression, "We're not in love with each other." Booth looked down, a sad expression on his face.
"It took us a year after we kissed to even be in the same room together, right?" Brennan said.
"Oh... absolutely, right, no more kissing or... anything." Booth said, still slightly deflated.
"If you're not in love, then how come you haven't been in any serious relationships since you first met, huh?" Sweets asked, his voice still strained.
"I don't really do that." Brennan retorted.
"You know, job, son..." Booth followed up.
"One of you has to have the courage to break this stalemate." Sweets said. Booth and Brennan sat there is silence. Sweets pointed to Booth.
"You. It's gotta be you, because you're the gambler. For once, make that work for you." Sweets said. Booth and Brennan still sat in silence. Brennan looked over at Booth and saw that he was uncomfortable. Even someone as socially inept as Brennan could see that. After a long period of silence, Booth spoke up.
"Something to eat?" he said, slightly more upbeat.
"I could eat." Brennan replied, standing up and abruptly walking out of the room with Booth. Sweets picked up a copy of his book, looked at the cover and threw it over the top of his head, exasperatedly. Booth and Brennan embarked the elevator. The doors closed, and Brennan slipped her arms around Booth's neck and kissed him passionately.
"I'm sorry for what I said in there, honey." Brennan said to him.
"It's alright. You did what you had to do, Bones." Booth said, grabbing a hold of Brennan's hand tightly.
"I hate psychology." Brennan retorted.
"I don't think you hate psychology because there's no scientific evidence. I think you hate it because Sweets was right." Booth said.
"No, no. I hate it because there's no way to collect empirical, quantitative evidence..." Brennan replied, hastily.
"Of course you do." Booth smiled at his partner.
"I do." Brennan said, matter-of-factly.
"Poor kid, though. He's probably in there, ripping his hair out." Booth replied.
"Well, we can't tell him, Booth. The FBI will sever our partnership." Brennan told Booth.
"I know, Bones." Booth said, holding Brennan's hand tightly.
"I can't believe he fell for the story about us not being able to be in the same room together." Brennan stifled a giggle.
"I don't think he..." Booth started, but saw Brennan laugh and decided not to say it.
"Yeah. That was pretty weird." Booth smiled. He kissed Brennan on the forehead and let go of her hand. The elevator doors opened and the two walked out of the FBI building. The courtyard was empty but they couldn't risk being seen. They walked over to the wall with a Carl Sandburg quote on it.
"Nothing happens unless first a dream." Booth said, looking at the wall.
"And some tequila." Brennan smirked.
"And some 50 dollar notes." Booth smiled, looking into Brennan's eyes. Brennan began to breathe heavily.
"Should I call a cab?" Booth asked in anticipation.
"Definitely." Brennan said.
They say that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different outcome. Seeley Booth and Temperance Brennan didn't expect a different outcome. Booth took Brennan's hand and walked towards the main road to wait for a cab, expecting the same outcome as the fateful night that brought them together.