I have a ton of miscellaneous Booth and Brennan one shots sitting around, so I decided I should just upload them in chapters. Life has been so hectic lately for me, but I've really missed posting stuff. Hopefully, you guys will enjoy these stories!

Without further ado, if I could have one thing happen on Bones, this would be it.

Disclaimer: I don't own Bones (or this would have happened already).

"Bones!" Booth called out from their bedroom. "Can you help me with something?"

Brennan spun on her heels and walked towards their room, somewhat confused. Booth, a man of action, never asked for help. Even if it killed him.

She walked through the bedroom's threshold and came face to face to Booth sitting on the edge of their bed, his skin bare with the exception of grey sweatpants and striped socks. His face was slightly slicked with sweat and he drew in a breath, his abdominal muscles contracting in the most pleasing way possible. Her eyes followed his abdomen up to his broad chest and shoulders. While she denied (more like lied about) her attraction towards Booth in the beginning days of their partnership, his shoulders always stood out to her. Muscled and considerably wider than his trim waist, they sat heavy on his midsection, the weight of war and murder outlining every curve. His physicality was impressive, she wouldn't deny that now. Before it was biological wants and needs, but seeing him sitting there, tanned and toned, she knew there would be no other man that could match Booth. He was hers, despite her babbles of people having no claim over others. That night when their warm lips finally met warmer skin in the midst of sorrows and a fallen friend, she knew she would never be able to let go.

Booth looked up, breaking her thoughts, his eyes bright. He rose up from where he was sitting and reached out to Brennan, his large hands skirting her small wrists.

Brennan swallowed. "What do you need help with? It looks like you're in the middle of something."

"I was getting a little tired. I need some… motivation." Booth's eyebrows quirked upwards.

"Oh! I've read several studies online about different ways to motivate yourself when working out. Many scientists say that music actually—" Brennan was cut off by Booth bringing a finger up to her mouth.

"Actually, I had another idea." He stepped back. "Lay on the ground."

"On the ground?" Brennan's forehead wrinkled in confusion.

"You'll see what I mean in a second."

Still slightly mystified, Brennan laid down on the area rug in the middle of their room. Booth dropped down to his knees, his hips straddling her body. His hands rested around either side of her head.

"What are you doing?" Brennan breathed out.

"Getting antsy, are we?" He grinned cockily, his eyes glimmering with something that wasn't there before. He pushed himself off of his knees and onto the balls of his feet.

Oh. He was going to do push ups. Over her. His mouth was just inches away, his abdomen begging to be touched. Brennan felt herself shiver.

Booth slowly went downwards, his biceps flexing under the weight of his body. Suddenly his mouth was centimeters away. Then millimeters. Then whatever measurement came next as her thoughts became incoherent under the hot press of his lips.

As soon as his lips came, they went, his body rising back up over hers. There was practically a gravitational pull as her right hand reached up to brush the muscular V above his waistband. Her pointer finger barely flicked the indentation before Booth grabbed her hand and pushed it back next to her head. He took his other hand and did the same thing, their fingers now intertwining.

"Only lips," he whispered as he dropped down again, his mouth brushing over her's with each syllable.

Brennan could barely blink, her senses ablaze with all things Booth. His brown eyes flared with amber, his hair tousled, his shoulders tightening and loosening with the roll of each muscle. His sweatpants were slowly starting to slip and eventually only clung onto his hip bones.

He eased down, his mouth missing her lips and clipping her earlobe instead.

"You know," he breathed, "I'm going commando."

Her cheeks burned red while his lips grazed over her jaw and pressed a smirk against her mouth. He rose back up, much more slowly, amusement etched into his features. He clearly was not tiring and the responses he was getting from her only seemed to give him more energy.

Salt and sweat and sandalwood plugged her nose in a hazy deliciousness. His palms sat heavy in her hands. Warm skin on even hotter hands, an itch to touch, to feel residing in her fingertips. She never liked to relinquish control but with Booth, a simple glance could send her melting. His voice was lower now, tainted with invigorated breaths and a taste for something more.

"Booth," Brennan finally managed to say after his fiftieth push up. "Are you getting tired?"

"Nope." His tongue ghosted her bottom lip.

"Don't overwork yourself," her voice dropping an octave, "I have my own workout planned."

"Oh, really?" Booth murmured, his hands slowly letting go of Brennan's. "And what might that be?"

Her fingers found his abdomen, outlining each crevice. She smirked as she felt his body tremble under her finger light touch. Her hands made their way to the waistband of his sweatpants, fingers sweeping across the sensitive skin above the waistband.

"Bones."

"What happened to being patient?"

"What happened to 'only lips'?"

Brennan hummed. "Sometimes rules are meant to be broken."

She snaked her arms around his midsection and flipped him onto his back. She straddled his waist, her hands falling onto his stomach. His arms began to reach out for the hem of her t-shirt.

"This time we'll work out," her lip skating the edge of his ear, "my way."

Booth pulled her shirt over her head, eyes dark. "Teach me."

He was quite motivated after all.

It must be super obvious that I have the biggest crush on David.

Reviews?