(The Tutor in the Tussle)

A/N: In Bones episode 12x05, we learned that the intern Colin Fisher had written fanfiction based upon Brennan's books. Rynogeny thought it might be amusing to write a fanfic as if it was written by Fisher but she doesn't have time right now to tackle it. FaithinBones and I talked it over and decided to tackle the idea together, writing this as a collaboration. She provided the basic story and I filled in some of the more salacious details. (No way Fisher would write anything less than M).

Now remember this story is supposed to be authored by Colin Fisher, not Faithinbones or MoreBonesPlz. This is his fantasy about him and Dr. Brennan, written using her Kathy Reichs character as a surrogate. Seen from his perspective, the characters will undoubtedly seem a bit OOC.

Disclaimer: I own nothing Bones related except my imagination.

~~~ The Perspicacity in the Bones ~~~

A fanfiction by DeathFish (aka Colin Fisher)

René Descartes devised a set of rules for clear thinking. The man was a genius. He said and I quote "We should totally focus the vision of the natural intelligence on the smallest and easiest things, and we should dwell on them for a long time, so long, until we have become accustomed to intuiting the truth distinctly and perspicuously."

That is what my boss and mentor, Dr. Kathy Reichs does every day. She is a genius and one of the best forensic anthropologists in the world. A discerning goddess of truth and justice mingling for a time amongst the rest of us ignoble human beings. She studies the bones of those who've left this corporeal realm, often torn from their earthly lives against their will, giving great attention to even the most minute of details. Shape. Size. Color. Texture. Her ability to interpret flaws in bones that no one else even sees can only be summarized as miraculous. Her unrelenting tenaciousness has allowed her to solve many cold cases, providing closure for the hundreds of souls left behind.

Moldering bones are like an open book to Dr. Reichs. She reads the osteological evidence written upon a skeleton as fluently as the ancient Egyptians read hieroglyphics; the Hindu Gods read Sanskrit; or the early Europeans read Cyrillic. Even the shape and feel of the bones when caressed by her hands can communicate the secrets of an individual's life to her like Braille speaks to the sightless.

It makes me shrivel inside sometimes just thinking about it. How am I, a mere mortal, supposed to compete in the same world with someone as magnificent as my Kathy?

Yes, I referred to her as my Kathy. Because, even though I am only a simple intern, she and I have engaged in a very torrid love affair for the last few months. She is truly very professional, but sometimes even someone as strong willed and devoted to her work as Kathy still thirsts for physical gratification and of course, how could I turn her away? I am but an ordinary male, a slave to the most primitive cravings of my being, and her wish to seek solace in my arms when things are going wrong or begin to overwhelm means that I need to be there for her. If my body is the temple at which she chooses to worship when the scientist rests and the woman inside awakens, then so be it. The world is a dark place filled with an overabundance of pain. We are all marching towards our inevitable doom, but sometimes we are fortunate enough to find someone to help us rend that dark fabric from its suffocating entanglements and these days, I am that someone for my Kathy.

With me, she is free to abandon the pressures that haunt her daily life and simply yield to that which brings her momentary pleasure, just like the other morning . . .

"Mr. Fisher, have you finished examining the remains yet?" Dr. Reichs marched into the room and focused her deep blue eyes intently on her intern, her glorious presence immediately banishing some of the melancholy typically pervading the atmosphere surrounding the dead. "Have you determined cause of death yet?"

"No, not yet. I just have a few more bones to inspect. Then, my dearest Kathy, I'll have completed my initial exam." Fisher placed the maxillae down on the stainless steel table and carefully picked up the mandible, his gloved hands holding the bone up a few inches from his face so his eyes had something to focus on besides the cleavage on display by the deep V-neck blouse she wore beneath her lab coat. The creamy swells of flesh teased him, reminding him that there were at least two pleasures to be enjoyed amid the monotonous drudgery of daily life.

"Dearest Kathy?" Dr. Reichs frowned at her intern and shook her head. "That is hardly professional, Mr. Fisher and not at all an appropriate form of address for in the workplace. I believe we've discussed this before."

Concerned that he'd offended her by taking liberties and letting the promptings of his libido override his sense of discretion, Fisher cleared his throat. "I'm sorry Dr. Reichs. You're right of course. We are in a professional setting and I shouldn't have addressed you so intimately."

Moving closer to her intern and dropping her voice to just above a whisper, Kathy placed her hand on his arm and squeezed it lightly. "You're forgiven of course. Last night was fantastic and I expect you're still under the influence of the copious amounts of dopamine, serotonin and testosterone that flooded your system. I myself am still feeling the residual effects from the chemical high produced by our exuberant lovemaking." Her hand trailed down his arm and then over to his hip as a seductive grin spread across her face. "That special move you performed last night right before my second orgasm was quite thrilling. I look forward to another demonstration of that particular maneuver."

His mouth suddenly dry, Fisher boldly grabbed Kathy's hand and moved it over towards his penis where he pressed her hand against his turgid flesh. "Would you like another round right now? We can store these remains back in their container and use this table to examine each other."

She found him amusing and chuckled at his eagerness. More than that, though, she found him a forbidden temptation and she was in the mood to indulge herself. She could feel his impressive cock lengthening and hardening under the palm he held captive against his pants and her fingers began to gently squeeze in a rhythmic pattern. "This is an institution of learning, Mr. Fisher, and these tables are intended for serious scientific investigations. They bear no resemblance whatsoever to the cheap mattresses found in rent-by-the-hour hotels that cater to illicit liaisons. What leads you to believe I'd allow you to fuck me here or now?"

He was without words as she pulled her hand free of his entrapment and walked towards the door, fearing he'd gone too far. But, then she halted just shy of exiting and kicked the door-stop loose, letting the solid metal door swing slowly on its hinges until the steel-against-steel clang signaled the door was fully seated within its frame. That sound was shortly followed by the unmistakable snick of the lock sliding into place.

Fisher swallowed. Hard.

Kathy turned to face him, crossing her arms across her chest just beneath her breasts, and looked at him expectantly, a teacher waiting the response from her pupil. "Colin? Explain your reasoning, please."

Dear God. She didn't need thigh high boots, a black leather bustier, or a whip for him to recognize that for this encounter, she was definitely in charge. Her voice had taken on that tone that every single one of her interns was mesmerized by. Commanding, yet patient. Superior, yet encouraging. She was the undisputed boss. She knew it and he knew it. The answers to her questions were already known to her, but she wanted to experience the journey getting there together, allowing her pupils to explore, to probe, to inquire while guiding them towards the solution with generous rewards along the way.

"You seek evidence, huh? Well . . . first, the skin of your chest, above your breasts, is flushed." She nodded her head in acknowledgement, then unbuttoned her lab coat and let it drop to the floor, watching him steadily. "Uh, your eyes . . . the pupils are dilated . . . and they keep dropping down to look at my crotch."

"Agreed. That's two more data points." She undid the buttons on her blouse as she stepped forward, leaving her blouse on the floor with her lab coat before removing her bra and letting her bountiful breasts spill forth. "Anything else, Mr. Fisher?"

She was glorious and Fisher was having a hard enough time breathing, let alone trying to converse intelligently. His head was swimming and he wasn't sure if it was due to the sudden influx of those chemicals she mentioned earlier or because all the blood in his body seemed to be flowing to his cock. Probably the result of both.

Since he couldn't seem to drag his eyes away from her bosom, it seemed reasonable to comment on that feature of her anatomy next. "Your nipples," he croaked.

Kathy looked down at her chest, lifting her hands to cup both her breasts such that her thumbs could strum across the tips. "Mmmm. What about my nipples, Mr. Fisher?" she taunted. "How do my nipples convey my desire to be fucked by you?"

"They're hard."

"Hmm, that's certainly true." Her fingers continued to play with the hardened nubs, her palms holding each breast up like an offering as she moved even closer to him, stopping just inches away. "But taken alone, it's inconclusive. There are other possible explanations for why my nipples could be like this. The temperature, for one. Alternatively, it could simply be a response to being freed from the confinement of my bra. No, I believe Mr. Fisher that this time, it's your turn to lose an article of clothing."

"Of course, Dr. Reichs." Fisher didn't hesitate, stripping off his lab coat as quickly as possible while trying to come up with another observation about her desire. It didn't even have to be accurate as long as one of them would be shedding clothes after the fact. While he struggled to think, she reached for a pair of gloves and turned her back towards him so she was facing the exam table and the bones laid out in their standard configuration. As she reached for a bone, her ass brushed against the front of his pants in a provocative way that could only be deliberate. "You're wet. I can smell your musk."

Kathy glanced over her shoulder at her intern and smiled, proud of him for his perseverance in playing her game. "That is simply a theory. An unsubstantiated hypothesis."

Fisher wrapped his arms around her from behind, one hand resting on her hip while the other cupped her between her legs. The sudden hitch in her breathing fed his confidence. "A hypothesis, yes, but one that is easily proved." He slid his hand up to the pants button at her waist, tugging gently, and leaned forward so his mouth was right beside her ear. "May I?" he whispered, feeling her tremble as his breath blew across her sensitive ear.

There was a raw edge of hunger to Kathy's voice when she responded which made his already incredibly hard cock throb in anticipation. "I suppose the only way to confirm your hypothesis is to test it out. That would be the most logical course of action. Proceed, Mr. Fisher. Do what you must."

Fisher used his teeth to pull off the glove from his right hand while his left hand pressed against her abdomen, holding her backside snug against his erection. Next, he released the button at her waist and loosened her zipper before sliding his hand inside her pants and beneath the satiny fabric of her undergarments. Without prompting, she spread her legs further apart when she felt his fingertips brush the top of her pubic curls. The shift in her stance increased his access and gave him ample room to slip down further, all the way into the slit that guarded her core, where he dipped his fingers several times before pulling them free to show her the cream he'd collected.

Kathy looked at the hand he held in front of her and the two fingers that glistened with her essence. She leaned forward, pressing her pelvis against his with deliberate intent, and sucked both his fingers into her mouth, licking them clean. There was something so erotic about tasting herself on his skin, sucking him clean before withdrawing her lips. "It appears, Mr. Fisher, that you were correct. The thought of you fucking me here and now has made me incredibly wet and there can be no doubt but that I want you. I want to feel you buried deep inside my cunt. I want you to pound into me as hard and deep as that amazing cock of yours can get. And, I want it now, Mr. Fisher."

Fisher grabbed the waistband of her pants and tugged them down to below her knees, panties included. He let his hands roam over her gorgeous ass, caressing the pale globes and running his fingers into the crevice between her cheeks. "What about the skeleton?"

Her laugh was somewhat strangled. "Let him watch. It's not like he can tell anyone what he sees."

Fisher dropped his own pants to his knees and placed one hand on her upper back, pushing her forward, towards the bones. She gasped as her chest pressed down onto the cold steel exam table, but she didn't balk, spreading her legs as far as the pants at her knees would allow and tilting her ass towards him in silent invitation.

"Fuck me, Colin. Please."

He grasped his cock in one hand and stroked the head up and down near the mouth of her pussy, coating his member with the cream that was flowing so profusely from her channel. Then, with no more warning, he impaled her. One thrust and he was buried to the hilt, the satiny walls of her cunt spasming around him as her first orgasm ripped through her. He held his magnificent cock still inside her, but reached around with one hand to stroke her clit and draw out the tremors until she begged him to let her catch her breath.

Then he began to move. In and out. In and out. Guiding her hips, pulling them into his, and tilting them until the never ending noises coming from her mouth assured him he was stroking against that special spot inside her that lit her up. "Oh, Colin," she gasped his name, several times among a litany of other phrases. "Yesss . . . that feels amazing . . . more . . . I love the feel of your cock in my cunt . . . harder . . . faster . . . ooh, I feel stuffed so full . . ." on and on, she rambled, heaping praise on his performance as he coaxed her through two more orgasms, not giving in to his own until he felt her fourth one ignite.

They stayed in that position, bent over the exam table with his front pressed against her back, for several minutes while they both caught their breaths and came back to their senses. Fisher's eyes landed on the skull staring back at him no more than a foot from where their heads lay. He couldn't help but ponder that there's a certain irony about performing an act intended to herald the creation of life when one is surrounded by the remnants of death.

Detective Andrew Ryan leaned against the doorframe leading into Kathy's office and watched as his sometime lover, sometime partner typed busily on her keyboard, ignoring his presence. "You haven't called, you haven't emailed . . . been too busy for friends?" he started.

Kathy looked up and frowned. "You're the one who didn't have time for me remember? After I made several calls that went unanswered, why would I keep trying to call you? It was obviously a waste of my time and my time is too valuable to squander needlessly."

His face passive, Andy entered the room and stood in front of Kathy's desk. "I was working a kidnapping, what do you want from me? It took me two weeks to find that kid. Two damn weeks!"

"I offered to help, but you rejected my offer." Kathy turned to look at her monitor. "I would have been able to help you find the child sooner." And that's what really frustrated her. That poor child suffered longer than necessary because Agent Andy was too arrogant to accept her assistance and wanted to go it alone, always trying to prove to everyone that he didn't really need her. "I think it would be best if we keep our relationship strictly professional from here on out."

Grimly, Andy nodded his head, reading between the lines. "You found someone better than me? That's it? Is this a brush off?"

"I'm afraid so." Kathy turned her head once more to face her former lover. "I've found someone who appreciates me for who I am and doesn't always feel the need to compete with me to establish superiority. I'm more than just a forensic anthropologist, you know. I'm a woman and I have certain needs which you clearly don't care about. Not above your own, at least."

Puzzled, Andy shook his head. "What the hell does that even mean? I give you your space because that's what you want and now you tell me . . . what? I'm giving you too much space? Well fuck my life because I sure as hell don't get this at all."

"That doesn't really matter in the long run." Kathy logged off her PC and stood up. "We can continue to work together. I want that as the cases we take require both of our expertise and there are victims out there that need us to keep working together, for them. But, my physical needs are now being taken care of by someone much more virile and attentive to me than you. His vigor and his attention to detail when we make love keeps me fully satisfied."

"Who is it?"

"It's not really your concern anymore, but he's someone who can be available to me anytime, day or night, here at the lab or at home, and I don't ever need to wonder whether he'll place his work ahead of me."

"Shit. It's Fisher, isn't it?" Andy shook his head. "I've seen how he looks at you. He's a damn intern, Kathy, and there is definitely something wrong with that guy. He makes the specter of death appear like a cuddly teddy bear in comparison."

Kathy smiled. "He does have rather dark moods, but that's fine. I find I enjoy the challenge of coaxing him into a more pleasant frame of mind. I don't always need rainbows and unicorns."

"Rainbows and unicorns." Andy threw up his hands and shook his head. "More like the plague and bloody corpses. That guy . . . what the hell. Never mind." The detective turned and walked towards the door. "Let me know when Hamlet is dead. In the meantime, you can have your fun and I'll go have mine."

"Oooh, yes." Kathy's legs tightened around Fisher's waist, her heels digging into his ass as she thrust herself tighter against him. "Now, Colin . . . now. Aaaaaaaah." Watching her expression as her orgasm rolled over her, hearing her calling his name, feeling the muscles of her vagina milking his cock, it was more than he could take and soon, he was shooting his cum deep into her womb. As the tension finally left his body, he withdrew from hers and rolled off her.

"I'm glad you gave that flatfoot the heave ho." Fisher lay next to Kathy and tried to catch his breath. "He's too old for you anyway."

Delighted with Fisher's magnificent effort to pleasure her sexually, Kathy rolled over and placed her arm across her intern's chest. "Well you are exactly what the doctor ordered." She reached down and wrapped her hand around his softening penis, the sheen of her moisture on his skin serving as a lubricant as she began to stroke him gently back to life. They both knew the night wasn't over yet. He'd rise to the occasion at least once if not twice more. "Your cock is amazing, Colin. Not only do you fit inside me perfectly, it's so robust."

"Thanks."

"I wasn't being flattering. Just stating what is."

"I know and that's what makes it so awesome." Finally able to breathe normally, Fisher sighed. "I'll probably die in bed trying to gratify you, but it will be worth it, Kathy. I'll be able to look death in the face and smile for once in my life."

"Well, let's not plan on your death quite yet." Kathy laughed. "First we need to experience la petite mort many, many more times before we approach the big sleep."

A/N: Okay, we hope you liked this story. Fisher writing fanfic was just too good to pass up. Let us know if we amused you and whether you liked our attempt at a collaboration. Thanks.

La petite morte refers specifically to "the sensation of orgasm as likened todeath". The big sleep refers to death.