Author's Note: I happily dedicate this one shot to jenlovesbones (who unknowingly gave me a premise for this story) and OwlStory who indirectly gave me inspiration for this little one shot, which was a welcome diversion to an otherwise discouraging day of writing. OwlStory suggested the following: "A character looks out the window and sees someone looking back. Instead of the usual response, they say something really crazy." And though that isn't exactly the start of this, it is indeed what helped inspire it (that and several random words that did not make it into this story this time. Haha).

"Mmm, 'Scent of Booth'," Angela said appreciatively as she walked into Brennan's office. "Would that they could bottle such a thing and sell it. The profits would be amazing."

Brennan looked up from the jacket she was holding. "I don't know what that means."

Angela smirked. "Right. You know exactly what that means, sweetie, and right now you are dying to bring that jacket to your face right now to inhale the scent of your FBI man."

"I don't—"

"Can it, Bren, and just do it. I won't tell anyone that you had a moment of feminine weakness."

Brennan eyed her friend and couldn't help smiling at the encouraging nod. She had to admit that she had considered that Booth's forgotten leather jacket might indeed hold some residual essence of her partner and took Angela's advice and brought the jacket to her face and not only smelled it, but breathed it in, involuntarily closing her eyes and inexplicably felt herself to be surrounded by all that reminded her of Booth. She felt the dopamine and norepinephrine surges in her body and had to consciously open her eyes and pull his jacket away.

Angela clucked at her. "Powerful, huh? I love Hodgins, but I think I could be swept away with that jacket, too."

"Pheromones and other related chemical reactions are often patterned after regular interactions with other organisms. The likelihood of you experiencing the same physiological reaction as me is less likely due to the reduced amount of time you spend in direct contact with Booth."

Angela laughed at her. "If that is your way of saying 'hands off my man', sweetie, then don't worry. We all know that he is yours and yours alone." She turned away from Brennan's scowl and started back out of her office, pausing at the door to turn back and say, "Go, sweetie, and return his jacket to him tonight. Don't wait for him to come to you." She winked at her friend and waved.

Booth did love this jacket, Brennan thought to herself. He probably would appreciate her stopping by to drop it off for him. She logged out of her computer, scooped up her bag, and headed out.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Booth opened his door and couldn't help the surprised grin from sweeping over his face when he saw Brennan greeting him.

"Bones! Hey, what are you doing here?" He backed away to allow her to cross the threshold. He followed her down the hall and into his living room.

"You left your jacket behind at my office today. I thought that you might want it this weekend." She handed it to him and noted with dissatisfaction that she felt reluctant about it passing through her hands and away into his.

"Yeah. Hey, thanks. You want a beer?" He walked into the kitchen with a spring in his step when she agreed and pulled a couple of bottles from the fridge. He opened them and bringing them out, he wondered at her expression. It was unfamiliar, or at least uncommon. He felt like he had seen it before, but couldn't place where. It was as though she were holding a smile at bay and he could see a part of that smile tug at her mouth, but more of it resided in her eyes, which appeared especially dazzling at the moment against the deep purple of her blouse and framed by the soft feather of her bangs across her forehead.

Without thinking, he found himself unaccountably near to her as he handed her a bottle and caught his breath as he forced himself to take a step back from the waves of emotion that overtook him from the proximity.

He was about to ask her what her plans were for the evening and considering the possibility that maybe they could have dinner together when she spoke first.

"Your jacket smells like you."

His eyebrows rose, followed by a smirk at this unexpected declaration. "Is that a good thing?" He reversed his step backward and drew closer to her again.

His heart sped up to what he was sure were uncontrollable speeds as more of the glimmer in her eyes escaped.

"I find your scent to be very pleasing."

"Apples," Booth breathed out quietly.

"Apples?" Brennan asked. "Are you offering me one?"

"No," he replied, taking yet another step closer. "The scent of your hair. It smells like apples."

She stared into his eyes, noting the intensity that had taken over, which now trapped her own. With a slight tilt of her head, she asked, "And what do you think of the smell of apples?"

He smiled a slow, seductive smile. "I find the smell of apples to be incredibly delicious." He leaned in, dipped his head to her hair and inhaled.

Brennan's breathing quickened as she felt his nose and mouth give a tickling sensation within her hair. She brought a hand up with the intention of gently pushing him away, but ended up taking up the material of his t-shirt and pulling him in and smelling along his neck.

Booth chuckled and spoke into her ear. "What would your anthropology say about our pleasure in each other's scent?" He snaked an arm around her waist to keep her from escaping, a wholly unnecessary gesture as Brennan felt uniquely attached to him without any more intentions to distance herself.

"Anthropological research is still in the controversial stages regarding pheromonal attractions in humans, but from my own personal evidence indicates that researchers may be onto something valid."

Booth moved his face around from the side of her head until they were eye to eye once more. "If a person's scent can stay in someone's clothing – say, a jacket – would that indicate that an attraction could be maintained indefinitely?"

Brennan returned his gaze. "Assuming that one were in close contact with such items on a regular basis, I might agree that this would indeed be possible." The heat from his embrace began to permeate her entire body.

Booth let his gaze break from her eyes long enough to trace along her facial lines that emphasized her smooth skin. "So if one were to act upon such an attraction, but then make sure he – or she – were in close contact to such items or the actual person, there would be little danger in such an attraction from fading?"

She had loosened her grip on his shirt, resulting in her palm resting flatly on his chest, allowing her to feel his heartbeat. She felt his breath caress her face and float along her neck, causing a spontaneous shiver to run down her spine. It didn't seem possible, but he held her yet closer upon feeling the shiver. "I believe—"

He didn't give her a chance to finish as he took her lips into his own in a confident passion, his tongue immediately circling her own. This was not the anticipatory kiss in the rain, drunk on tequila, nor was it the uncertain, guarded kiss from the mistletoe, but a full on fire of one who was ready to give in to the hungry desire he had felt for so many years. She returned the kiss with her own intense need, exploring the taste of him that she had never forgotten.

One arm about her waist, the other hand had made its way up to the back of her head, fingers intermingling with her hair. Her own arm did the same, but as she did so, she had forgotten about the bottle in her hand and spilled beer along the side of his neck causing Booth to jump and their lips to separate from one another.

She thought the spell might have been broken, but he merely smiled and asked, "What about taste? Can it hold the same power of attraction as smell?"

Brennan smiled provocatively at him before answering, "Care to participate in my study?"

"What are partners for?"