A/N: Brennan has a problem she's not sharing. Booth wants to helps fix things, as always, only to find the conversation skewing in a direction he'd never expected. This is set several months post-The Boy With the Answer. This will definitely be a multi-chapter story. I'd really, really love some feedback on this one! Pretty please? :)

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As far as their cases went, this one was unusual. According to the call Booth had received an hour ago, a skeleton had turned up in a field of horses, fused into the remains of a skateboard. That in itself was bizarre— Booth had a hard time envisioning how exactly a body could be totally melted into a piece of sports equipment so relatively small—but the fact that the deck was engraved with a holographic Vodka Quatari promo twisted things even further.

"Quatari's a brand new venture and Daze Hawthorne was shilling for them. Ever heard of him?" Booth waited for his partner to ask for more specifics, but Brennan merely stared out the window silently. "The guy declared on national TV a couple weeks ago that he was going to become the next Tony Hawk. You know, that's bound to piss off diehard fans who think he's a poser." Again, his partner failed to respond to his attempts at conversation.

All morning long she'd displayed no interest in discussing the particulars of the case prior to arrival at the scene. She'd been acting uncharacteristically moody and nervous, answering in monotone syllables to his comments when she even bothered to respond at all.

"All right. That's enough." Booth swerved into the emergency lane. Brennan jolted forward as he slammed his foot on the gas pedal.

Finally, he got a reaction.

"Booth, what are you doing?" she demanded, peeling herself from the dashboard. "We need to get to that field before all the remaining forensic evidence is trampled by horses."

"There's a vet rounding the animals up, and we probably can't get to the remains until after he's finished anyway. So we have some time." He turned in his seat to confront his aggravated partner. "You wanna tell me what's going on?"

"I can't do that until I examine the body."

The woman could be so damn, deliberately obtuse sometimes, it made Booth's brain steam.

"You know exactly what I meant, Bones. What's with the silent treatment you've been dishing out all day?"

He'd expected a half-dozen denials before finally getting an actual answer, but to his surprise Brennan cut to the chase.

"You're correct in surmising that I have a problem, Booth." She resumed her previous position, staring out the window. "Clearly, my non-verbal language was more overt than I intended it to be."

"So talk to me, Bones."

She continued to refuse to make eye contact. "I believe this is a problem that Angela would be more comfortable in advising me upon, Booth, she is presently out of town on her extended honeymoon and is not answering any of my emails or texts."

"Yeah …" He stifled a chuckle at the underlying irritation in her voice. "When people go on a honeymoon, they tend to forget cellphones and computers exist, Bones. Especially when the honeymoon involves backpacking the rainforests of Tahiti." In spite of himself, his pride was wounded. "C'mon, Bones. We're partners. Let me help."

Finally, she turned from the window and looked at him with that frank, penetrating gaze. "I appreciate your concern, Booth. However, given your discomfort in discussing sex, I believe you might want to rethink your offer."

Loud alarm bells went off in his head. He really had no desire to hear about Bones' latest sexual conquest.

For once, she seemed to read his body language. She reached out and patted his leg awkwardly. "It's okay, Booth. I realize that, given our decision not to pursue a relationship, conversing about my sexual activities would be discomfiting."

It was your decision not pursue a relationship, not mine! He bit back the words, knowing they would serve no purpose. Much as he did not want to have this conversation, he was in too deep to back out now. Plus, he really needed her back to old self before they started the Hawthorne case.

"Okay, Bones." He sighed and folded his arms, bracing himself. "Let's have it."

She regarded him curiously for a moment and he was certain she was going to argue, but she surprised him again.

"Have you ever experienced a lack of physiological response to a potential sexual partner even when the correct variables for stimuli were applied?"

He digested the question uncomfortably, suddenly wishing he was anywhere but in this SUV beside his very attractive partner. "You mean have I ever … ever uh … you know …" he gestured vaguely in the direction of his groin. "When I was with … did I …"

Thinking he hadn't understood the question, she thoughtfully rephrased it more clearly. "Have you ever failed to become aroused when confronted with an attractive potential mate who fulfills your criterion for sexual activity?"

Only every time I'm with someone who isn't you.

He apparently didn't respond quickly enough, and Bones tried again, breaking the question into the simplest layman's terms she could think of. "Have you ever been unable to sustain an erection when you're with a beautiful woman?"

Jesus!

Booth loosened his collar and avoided the question. "So you're saying you're having problems … ah with … "

"Actually, no," Brennan informed him. "The problem isn't of a sexual nature."

Feeling like a bug trapped in an entomologist's spiderweb, Booth carefully felt his way forward. Why the hell was she glibly inquiring about the status of his hard-ons if the problem wasn't 'sexual in nature'?

"What exactly is the problem, Bones?"

"It's not sexual in nature, because things haven't progressed sexually in quite somet ime."

He waited, trying not to squirm.

"I've been celibate for several months now, actually, even though I've been out with multiple men in that time period, all of whom, on the surface, seemed like promising sexual partners." She frowned. "Generally, one initiates a potential sexual relationship with a specific gesture. In the Taweru culture, for example, men offer their—"

His overtaxed brain frothed and boiled.

"Bones …" His voice was fainter than he would have liked. "Let's keep the anthropology lessons to a minimum just now, okay?"

"All right." She shrugged. "In our culture, a kiss is generally regarded as a precursor to sexual consummation. However, I find that I am not becoming as stimulated as I previously might have been when participating in such pre-coitus rites."

She concluded her summation of the problem cheerfully, almost as though merely talking about it was enough to take the weight off her shoulders. Booth, on the other hand, felt as though Atlas had suddenly decided to take a little vacation from holding up the Earth and dropped said globe directly on Booth's head before departing.

"So you kiss them and it doesn't do anything for you?"

"Exactly."

Under ordinary circumstances, this would have been welcome news. He didn't want her 'becoming stimulated' by any guy but him, dammit! Unfortunately, he had managed to slot himself directly into the unenviable position of having to commiserate with her problem.

"Maybe the guys just weren't right for you," he offered, aware of how lame the comment sounded.

"But they all fit the pattern of my previously successful sexual liaisons. For example, Charles was unusually well—"

"Whoa, whoa!" Booth held up a frantic hand. "TMI, Bones, TMI. Did you ever think that maybe you're just tired? You said yourself after the Grave Digger trial that you needed a break. Stress can do strange things to people."

"I considered that, yes," she replied thoughtfully. "It's a hypothesis. However, a hypothesis needs to be tested in order to be verified."

"I don't know what that means," he said bluntly, now feeling completely out of his depth.

"If stress is the true variable causing a breakdown in my libido, then I need to conduct an experiment in order to confirm the theory."

"In English, Bones," he pleaded, sneaking a glance at his watch. "We've really got to get to that field."

Maybe he could catch a ride on one of the horses and get the hell out of Dodge before his brain completed exploding.

Unaware of the turmoil in his mind, Bones continued, "I would need to take a vacation with a potential sexual partner and see if the lack of stress results in a return of my libido."

"Great. A vacation." He started the ignition and guided the car back onto the road. "Great idea, Bones. Somewhere nice and secluded, maybe some wine and a fireplace, old movies and a couch to watch them on together after coming in from skiing … That ought to fix things."

He hated that he was virtually offering up scenarios from inside his own head to the next available guy Brennan laid eyes on.

"But a control needs to be established."

Booth clutched the wheel unhappily, just knowing he was not going to like this. "Huh?"

"The man I am with would have to have a proven history of sexual compatibility with me, in order for the experiment to be valid."

Forget like. He absolutely, positively, unequivocally hated this conversation. "So go call up one of your old flames who still leaves nearby. I'm sure they'll be glad to help out."

"However, as the problem has arisen with men I have yet to sleep with, it logically follows that a successful experiment can only result from a vacation with a man with whom I have yet to—"

"Bones!" He exploded in frustration, trying to keep from swerving into the next lane. "You've really lost me, okay? And you were right. Angela would have been a better person—a way better person—to ask about this stuff. Why don't you just wait a few more weeks till she gets back in town? Then you can discuss things and figure it out, you know," he waved helplessly, trying to come up with an unoffensive phrase, "The girl way."

"Actually, you've proven surprisingly helpful, Booth."

"I have?" he ventured in surprise.

"Yes." She sounded decidedly more like her usual rational self. "I merely need to locate a man I have proven potential sexual compatibility with, yet with whom I have not consummated a sexual relationship. I should then remove myself and this individual to a non-stressful location, allow for several days to allow for an adjustment to the new environment, then initiate a pre-coitus rite and see if my libido returns."

"Glad I could help, Bones," he muttered. "Really."

First Sully, then Jarred and Hacker. And now he'd guided her straight into the arms of yet another lucky guy who would get to experience what was forbidden to him.

"There's only one small problem."

He resisted the urge to jump out of the moving vehicle.

"What's that?"

"I am selective about my sexual partners, Booth. Thus, when I do find a man with whom I am sexually compatible, we generally consummate our relationship relatively quickly."

If she mentioned sexual compatibility one more time, he was going to well and truly lose it.

"You're saying there aren't all that many guys you've dated that you haven't slept with."

"Generally speaking, though I'm careful about whom I initiate a relationship with, yes, once I'm in a romantic relationship, whatever its nature, sex naturally follows."

Booth rolled his shoulders tensely. "Don't know what to tell you here, Bones. Like I said, wait for Angela. She'll be able to come up with something."

"I have already devised the solution to the problem."