There were a number of tension points in the season 4 premiere that would make for some great stories, but I decided to focus on one and develop it further. Bones asks Booth a direct question when they get back from London and Booth finally decides to answer honestly. This will be in three parts. Here's Part one.

Disclaimer: I don't own, or profit from, these characters or franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

For Dr. Temperance Brennan the flight back from London was a tiring one. The entire trip home she had been disturbed by the chain of events in London surrounding Booth's attitude about Ian and her possibly hooking up. She'd declined Ian's offer of a one night stand, a bit reluctantly she had to admit, for the sole reason that she hadn't wanted to upset Booth. His opinion of her meant everything in her mind, and if he did not want her to have a sexual liaison that he was directly aware of, then she was not going to push it. But he'd said something that troubled her. She had been engaging in some rather interesting banter with him as he tried to park that car about sex and when the discussion had turned to Ian's obvious interest in her, Booth had told her that she deserved better than that. He even told her that she was special. That had been what she had concentrated her thoughts on during the long flight.

Exactly what was he getting at? Was he interested in her as more than just partners? The evidence seemed to point in that direction if his attitudes towards her sexual forays the last couple of years, and especially the previous seven months, were anything to go by. But she couldn't be sure. He'd set that damn line between them and that was something she took seriously. Her regard for Booth's opinions as related to their partnership was extremely high and she wanted to be able to have the same high standards as he held. Clearly it was time to have a conversation with him and get the answers she wanted.

Once she had decided upon a course of action, she grabbed her keys and left her apartment to go to see him. It may be one in the morning, but she was nothing if not determined.

When she arrived she knocked but there was no answer. Pulling out the key he had given her a long time back, she went in and smirked. The music was blaring from his bathroom. It was just like when she had confronted him when she found out he was still alive. For a moment she blanched as she recalled the horror of looking down on him in that club as he lay there after being shot with a bullet that was meant for her. She had begged him not to die and the couple of weeks that she thought he was dead had been deeply traumatizing. Crying every night and then working on autopilot during the day, only to come home to cry some more. The only comfort she had felt was the knowledge that she had killed the woman who had killed her Booth. It tore at her that she took comfort in having killed someone, but she took whatever comfort she could get.

Bones looked at the bookcase on one wall that held some of Booth's pictures and mementos. Her eyes gazed at the pictures of him with his son Parker on one shelf, and then on the next shelf down he had pictures of the 'Squint Squad' as he had dubbed her assistants, including a picture of Zack. Her heart ached at what had become of Zack and somewhere inside she knew that she would always harbor some small bit of guilt over their young friend's fate. Maybe if they had all been more sensitive when the Army had sent him out of Iraq and hurt his confidence and dignity he wouldn't have been so susceptible to the approach of the Gormagon. She pushed those thoughts aside as she looked on the next shelf down, which was in the pride of place on the case, direct center. On it from left to right were hardback copies of her four novels in pristine condition, followed by the paperback versions which were obviously well read. Since she knew that Booth only bought books brand new, she determined that he was the one who had evidently read them a number of times. Next to that were the three textbooks she had been commissioned to write. Looking closer she saw that there were slips of paper sticking out of all three in numerous places with small writing on them. He had not only been buying her professional publications, but reading them and taking notes. Next on the shelf were a dozen different pictures of her from the years that they had been working together. Some were of her in the lab and her office working, and others were of her in casual settings such as the park and diner. One stopped her perusal. It was a fabulous photo of her with a wide smile, completely honest and open, and it was in a beautiful sterling silver frame with roses etched into the metal.

They definitely had to talk. She was through with his squeamishness when it came to them, and she was very interested in finding out what he thought. Squaring her shoulders, she made for the bathroom and slid the door open just like she had the last time, and just like last time he had on his ridiculous beer hat, was smoking a cigar, and reading a comic book.

"We need to talk!" she said loudly.

"What the hell???" Booth said in a shocked voice. His cigar fell into the water and the rubber hose for his hat went shooting out of his mouth, beer running into his bath water.

"I said we need to talk. Now take off that ridiculous hat and get out of the tub," she demanded, though she ran her eyes over his chest, stopping with a pale expression on her face as she saw for the first time his uncovered wound. It was healed over, but it was a pinkish pucker that stood out against his otherwise perfect torso. The agony of seeing him laying on the floor bleeding while she held him played out again, but this time she ignored the pull of it.

"Bones?! Can't I even take a bath without being interrupted?" Booth demanded. "Or is this another conversation where I will once again be labeled a pervert for being naked in my own bathroom?"

"If it will help we can have the conversation in the living room after you're dressed, or we can have it in here. I'll even get naked myself if it will make you more comfortable," she told him. She cursed his more Puritan ideals once again, though she had enjoyed the view he had given her a few months before for which she had teasingly praised his more modern senses of immodesty.

Booth felt a major stroke coming on. No matter how he sliced it he was royally fucked. Either he breaks the record for the most Hail Mary's ever meted out from confession for his instant surge of impure thoughts and encouragement of Bones to strip down, or he would be neutered in his own living room fully clothed since she was obviously upset with him about something. He had also noticed her pale expression as her eyes fell on his scar from the gunshot wound.

"Go into the living room and I'll join you there in a few minutes," he told her with a sigh. "And before you ask, which I'm sure you would, I won't be standing up with you in here again. It's not a peep show."

"So much for modern sensibilities," she muttered, a bit disappointed. His body was impressive, after all. She raised her voice. "Five minutes, Booth, or I come back in and we have this discussion in here," she told him and then turned on her heel leaving hims sitting there in his tub. She slid the door shut behind her.

"Fuck," Booth muttered. He looked up at the ceiling. "You know, any help down here about now would be greatly appreciated, Big Guy," he supplicated to God before standing up and stepping out of the tub.

Bones spent the five minutes in the living room thinking about the healed wound she had seen in his bathroom. It brought back all the painful memories of that awful night, even more than hear earlier ruminations had. The only thing she really remembered about that night after he had passed out in her arms was at the hospital in the waiting room with the others. "I'm sorry, Dr. Brennan. There was nothing we could do. He died on the operating table." Those words from the surgeon had completely unhinged her and she had fallen to the floor crying. She imagined that Angela had taken her home, but she wasn't really sure.

"Bones?" Booth asked as he took in the pale look on her face and the slight rocking her body was doing as she sat on the couch.

Bones shook her head to try and erase the images. She looked over at him and saw that he had on a pair of grey sweat pants and an FBI t-shirt. "I'm still mad at you, you know," she told him.

Booth sighed. What else was new? He figured that it was about her not having been notified that his death was a ruse considering how she paled when she saw his scar. "You saw the list of contacts I gave the Bureau, Bones. It was Sweets fault. Why don't you just go slug him?" he said not for the first, or even the hundredth time.

"You still should have called me," she told him tartly. "Besides, I've already dealt with Sweets," she added with a small smile. The royal ass chewing that she had given to Deputy Director Cullen over Sweets' interference had rolled downhill to Sweets and when Cullen had finished with the young man, the kid had been practically begging for her forgiveness.

"Really?" Booth asked. "How come I didn't get to watch you belt the little twerp?" He'd have paid good money to see that. Sweets had caused him some serious grief with his bullshit about not letting Bones know.

"Why did you say I'm special?" she asked suddenly.

"Huh?" Booth asked, very confused at the sudden about face in the conversation.

"When we were in London and arguing about Ian wanting me you got mad and said I was special and no one else was. Why did you say that?" she pressed.

Booth put his head down in his hands. "Why are you bringing this up, Bones?" he asked.

"Because I'm constantly getting confused," she told him. "You drew that damn line between us and then you create problems for me in my personal life. You act more like a jealous lover than my best friend. Then you say I'm special. So I want a discussion about this. An honest one, Booth. No more bullshit."

Booth inwardly cursed as he realized that he had gone too far. He'd always had some trouble thinking of Bones with other men, but he'd tried to be careful. Obviously he had been too obvious. "I'm sorry if being concerned about you interfered," he said contritely.

"Not good enough, Booth," Bones said bluntly. "Since you don't want to start, I guess I will. You better be prepared, because I know you're going to be uncomfortable."

Booth groaned. Very few subjects made him uncomfortable, but sex was very much at the top of that list, and Bones very well knew it. Since they'd been bickering about Ian's blatant attempts to have a one night stand with Bones, he just knew that she was about to open up about sex.

A/N: Sorry for stopping it here, but I wanted to make this a three part story and the perfect second part would be Bones letting Booth know what she was thinking about all this. I hope that this first part was good enough to entice you all into reading further once I post some more. Let me know what you think. Gregg.