A/N: Hey guys, this is my first FF story. Please be nice. Comments are love. This little one-shot takes place just after Season 1 Episode 7 "The Man on Death Row". I was just experimenting and 'trying' to capture Brennan's very confusing and hard-to-grasp brain. Hope I achieved it. Although the possibility of that is highly unlikely.

Disclaimer: Temperance Brennan and the characters listed below are not mine. Although I do drink tea, the invention of tea cannot be credited to me. However if someone were to sell those rights…

Coffee or Tea?

By: Hello Willow

Dr. Temperance Brennan stared out the window, watching the rain slosh down into gutters and run down streets. It had been raining in Washington D.C for days. Non-stop pouring, buckets-type rain. But rain was good. Rain helped plants to grow, and when plants grew they let out oxygen which was good for the human species. Overall, it was a win-win situation.

She sighed and stared into the amber liquid depths of her tea. Traditional Chinese herbal tea to be exact. 'Hong cha' it was called. Red tea. Jasmine red tea. Tempe didn't particularly like drinking coffee so this was why she stuck to tea. Coffee contained caffeine which was a mild addictive stimulant. Coffee also increased heart rate, increased blood pressure and gave you an occasional irregular heartbeat. But tea, tea was good. Tea had been around for centuries. The Chinese discovered it thousands of years ago. Tea used to be used as medicine and had many healing properties. Tea was also natural and natural was good. Or so that was what Tempe believed.

Tessa. Why did that thought pop in first in her mind? That wasn't right. Maybe sub-consciously she had been thinking about…

Anyway, who was she to criticise Tessa?

Hang on...had she been criticising Tessa?

She shook her head and rubbed her eyes. She really didn't get enough sleep last night. An adult should receive up to 7 hours of sleep per night but she wasn't even hitting 5. What with all the time spent in the lab and out with… him…and in bed thinking about…

Now she was just being confused.

But confused was only for people who needed guidance and for people who didn't know which way or path they were heading. She knew which way she was heading. She didn't need any guidance whatsoever. She was confident. She knew. Yes, she definitely knew.

Knew what? A voice decided to ask.

No. No. No. She shook those thoughts away. Lifting the cup to her lips she downed the rest of the tea, placing it on the table next to her and shifted so that her legs had plenty of room to stretch on the couch.

Howard Epps.

Yes, the last case had certainly proved to be interesting. She vividly remembered the way he had looked at her. "Please." He had asked, his eyes so sincere. Pleading almost. Except he would never plead. He had after all, the Y chromosome and members of the XY chromosomes were not gifted with the characteristic of humility. Not usually anyway.

But he had asked, and asked nicely. And when she had looked up into those eyes, it was a feeling she couldn't explain. Like she wanted to do anything that he asked. Like she would do anything that he asked. Why? Why were human and psychological problems so irritating and infuriating? See, this was why she stuck to dead people. They didn't keep her up at night. They didn't infiltrate her dreams and make her think of things she didn't need or want to think about.

He had this way of smiling. See, him smiling was a two way thing. He sometimes smiled because it made other people feel better about themselves, or he sometimes smiled when it assured people of something. But there were other times. And these were rare. But over the last few weeks, once or twice she had glimpsed his real smile. Not his sad smile of 'the murder case is over and the murderer is caught but what is there to smile about because someone is dead'? No. Not that kind.

It was a smile that she somehow, in her heart, secretly longed for. She wanted to see more of it. She just had this humanly desire to want to explore this smile more. Find out what it meant.

It was a smile of happiness. Of warmth. Of laughter. A smile that was so rare in this day and age with people stressing over jobs and money so much. It was a carefree smile. A smile that truly lit up someone's whole face.

But yet. How could this smile be on a face that could sometimes be so irritating? And the gun permit? Why did he make her go through the process when in the end, all he did was deny her request for one? Now that was irritating. Dead people did not speak in riddles. Why must the living and breathing?

She did not have feelings for him. It was a fact. Not denial as Angela had sometimes hinted. It was fact and there was evidence. She could prove to anyone that she did not have feelings for him. Like, for instance, she had been nothing but cordial to his girlfriend. See? There. Clear as day. Someone who had feelings for him would have immediately lashed out and gotten jealous. But she had kept a cool head.

But then, why was she imagining his smile? The way it creased up the lines around the edges of his eyes? How, every time he was tired or worn out, he would rub his mouth, pull the corners of his lips right down. How, every time he was disgusted or felt maybe, insecure or unsure, he would cover up his feelings with smart comments and irritating gestures or actions.

Was this just the normal, mutual feelings a person would usually develop for their 'partner' in crime? Or was it something more?

Tempe sighed and shifted position on the couch yet again. This was why she stuck to her 'coffee and tea'. They weren't riddles and she clearly knew how she felt about them.

Coffee was bad. Tea was good. It was as simple as that.

But Booth…. Now that was an entirely different matter.

A/N: So… did you like? Love? Or hate? Please review. :) I don't mind any comment, any improvement I could make, anything you did/didn't like. Reviews help me to learn. ;)