A/N: I am completely aware that it's been awhile since the purple pond episode, but this idea kept pick, pick, picking away at me, and I thought I might go insane if I didn't type it out. And you wouldn't want an insane author, would you? Anyhow, my apologies in advance if this idea has already been done. Enjoy!

Check the shoes

That's for me to know and you to find out.

The words he'd spoken kept haunting her, flitting to the back of her memory during working hours, only to come back to the forefront at night. The final straw came when she was working in the lab and the words came back to her loud and clear. It was daytime; a time to work. She needed to focus on work, not on words he'd said to her over two weeks ago. This was not good. Finally, she reached a decision. Booth had said it was for her to find out, so that was exactly what she was going to do.

That night, she invited herself over to his place with the pretext of needing to rehearse a presentation she would be giving at a conference the following week. She did need to rehearse, but she could have just as easily done it without an audience in the privacy of her own home.

She stepped over the threshold once the door was opened, and immediately scanned the room for her targets. Nothing. They were mostly likely all in the bedroom then. She had to find a way to get him to leave her alone for awhile. Before she could think of something, his words reached her ears.

"You can stand over there, and start if you want." He pointed to a spot in front of the entrance to the kitchen. When she didn't acknowledge that she'd heard him, he stood in front of her, and snapped his fingers in her face. "Hello? Bones?"

"Huh?"

"Your presentation."

"Oh. Yes." Feeling like the opposite of the genius she was, she strode over to where he'd pointed while he plopped himself on the couch, making a valiant attempt to look interested. She knew he wasn't. This sort of thing bored him to death.

Maybe he'll fall asleep

Shoving the hopeful thought aside, she launched into the presentation, covering the latest techniques in anthropological research. She talked slower than she normally would and purposefully injected as much jargon as possible into her sentences. Little by little, his eyelids began to droop and he stifled a yawn.

Spurred on by these little signs of fatigue, she droned on, making her voice as monotone as she could. By the end of the presentation, he was slouched on his side against the couch cushion, his neck bent at an odd angle, which didn't look all that comfortable, but she sure as hell wasn't going to wake him so he could move.

Curious to make sure he was actually fully asleep, she crept closer to him and pressed her index finger against his shoulder. Nothing. She repeated the action with a little more force and got the same lack of response. Only then did she walk carefully and quietly down the hallway to his bedroom, wincing when the door squeaked as she opened it.

The room was dark but she didn't want to turn the lights on, instead settling for the bedside lamp. She stepped silently over to the closet and opened it as quietly as possible. Paydirt. She knelt on the floor and began her search through his shoes, hoping she'd find something. She didn't like doing anything that ended in no results and no knowledge gained.

Every sound made her jump, and there were a few instances where her search was interrupted as she scooted back to the living room to check on him, paranoid that he'd woken up. The last thing she wanted was to have to explain herself. What would she say?

You remember when we were with Sweets in Jared Addison's bedroom, and he was looking for masturbatory aids? You said to check the shoes, and I asked if that was true of all boys or just particular to you. You then said that was for you to know and me to find out…well, I'm merely finding out.

She grimaced at this, knowing she would then argue the point that it was really his fault. After all, if he hadn't said it, her curiosity wouldn't have been piqued, and she wouldn't be here on her hands and knees, snooping in his shoes.

At last, she was successful, holding the square aloft in triumph briefly before glancing at the image it held. She immediately held it at arm's length. Who the hell was that? Some generic blond she didn't recognize. Upon further thought, she concluded it was a model or actress of some sort. She snorted. She should have expected as much. Should have? So, what had she expected? That thought made her pause before replacing the picture. A feeling washed over her. Disappointment? No, definitely not. What then? Ok, so maybe it was disappointment, but at what?

It's not a picture of me

Shaking her head furiously at the voice in her head, she stood and closed the closet door, stepping over to the lamp. Reaching to shut it off, she caught sight of something poking out from underneath the lamp stand. Curiosity returning in full force, she lifted the lamp and removed another square. Turning it over, she felt a smirk come over her features. There she was. No shoes for her. Dr. Temperance Brennan was better than that. The photo was a good one of her, taken in her office. She remembered the day.

Before her imagination could take flight concerning the photo's use, she replaced it under the lamp as she'd found it then shut it off. She'd been in here long enough. Standing in the doorway, she gave the room a final sweep with her eyes before closing the door. She'd found two of his hiding places.

I wonder many more there are.

A/N: Hopefully that wasn't too bad. I don't really do episode add-ons, so it was new territory. As always, reviews are cherished and appreciated. Thanks for reading!