Title: Baring It All
Author: Tom's gg
Chapter: 1/29
Chapter Title: Exposed
Characters: Brennan/ Booth
Rating: M - Strong Sexual Content
Spoilers: None

I do not own the characters- that distinction belongs to FOX… but God I wish I did!

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This Story is for MATURE AUDIENCES ONLY... IF YOU ARE NOT 18 PLEASE FIND ANOTHER STORY!

This is another Chapter Fic, so we'll see how this goes. I had a hard time classifying this one, because I'm sure it's going to evolve as we move along; away from a case driven suspense to more of a relationship fic like my first one. This story is dedicated to my wonderful hubby who has had to endure conversations about priapism, male arousal, and masturbation. He too has suffered for my art- LOL. So- pull out your favorite comfy T and snuggle in! I have a feeling this is going to be a very LONG and CHAOTIC ride.

The rights to these characters may belong to Hart Hanson and FOX, but we know the characters actually belong to us, because they live in our hearts and imaginations.

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"You are not going out there like that Bones, and that's final!" His arm was blocking her exit through the narrow corridor to the stage; his body tense and unyielding. He was determined to restrain her physically if needed.

Temperance Brennan stood before him in a see through baby-doll nightie, which covered a sequin bra and panty set. Her only other accoutrements were three-inch stiletto heels. Booth had witnessed her do a lot of crazy things over the years, but this was, by far, the craziest.

Noanie Gibbs had been Brennan's friend since they'd been undergrad students. Brennan and Noanie lived in the same dorm, on the same floor. They spent most of their weekends together in the library completely oblivious to the culture of booze, sex, and boredom which surrounded them.

Noanie had preferred a more traditional discipline of Anthropology, so after graduation they'd gone their separate ways for Grad school. Their unique interests had served to bond them however, and they continued to maintain contact through phone and mail; and more recently email and instant messaging.

Noanie had written several ethnologies on varying aspects of urban culture. She'd recently been studying the subculture of female workers in the gentleman's entertainment club industry. Noanie had always been of the opinion that, you had to immerse yourself in a culture to understand it.

She'd been working in the Wet Whistle for several months when a rash of attacks began. She'd made some vague references to it in her and Brennan's last phone conversation, expressing mild concern, but Brennan hadn't really known how bad the situation was until she and Booth arrived.

Brennan had come running to Daytona Beach as soon as she got the call from the hospital. She didn't really remember inviting Booth or asking for his help. When she told him she was headed for Daytona to help a friend, he'd immediately called and made plane reservations for the two of them. She was beginning to regret not protesting those actions. Now, they were face to face and he was being completely irrational.

Brennan's lips had disappeared; the way they do when she is ready to challenge his alpha male bullshit. "My oldest friend is lying in a hospital bed because of something she learned here Booth. She can't tell me what it was, but I will find out!"

A noise came from behind Booth and distracted him just long enough for her to slip past.

When she reached the end of the corridor she turned back to him, "If you're really concerned about me, why don't you do your job- go out there and watch the crowd. Use all that psychology of yours to help me figure out who the creep is who hurt my friend."

She disappeared through a thick black curtain. The music began to pulse.

Booth immediately exited through the side door back into the main bar area. Brennan had herself wrapped around the pole in the middle of the stage; moving to the music like she had done this all her life. Booth needed to watch the crowd, but he couldn't take his eyes off her. Her face came around to find him and their eyes locked.

Brennan felt herself stumble, just a bit, when she caught his eye. She hadn't really thought about having him watch her take off her clothes. When she'd first decided to pursue her friend Noanie's attacker, she hadn't really thought about anything at all. His eyes where locked onto hers as he circled the room. She peeled off the nightie to reveal the under garments more clearly. When she removed the bra, his face twitched, but his eyes remained on hers.

Booth couldn't take his eyes off her. He circled the room like a cat on the prowl; waiting for his prey to be ready for the kill. His eyes remained locked on hers, but he saw everything. He saw the vein throbbing in her neck from the exertion. He saw that her nipples draw taut from the cold air which was blown onto the stage for that purpose. He saw her hips grinding to the rhythm of the music, while he imagined her moving on top of him.

As a group of men leaned onto the stage Booth immediately moved to intercept them; Bones motioned him back. He finally had to turn away as he watched the first man's hand slide between the smooth fabric of her microscopic panties and the velvety skin beneath.

Once his eyes were off her, he surveyed the crowd. Any one of them could be the cretin they were looking for. It could be one of those assholes who were pawing at her right now. The anger rose in Seeley like the mercury in a thermometer.

Seeley began to take mental notes; size, dress, left/right handed. They knew very little about the attacker. So far there had been 6 victims; all strippers except Noanie. The first two had recovered physically, but had severe head trauma and couldn't remember anything about their attacker. The third victim had died on the operating table during emergency surgery. The other three were still in the hospital comatose, including Brennan's friend.

Brennan had spent their first day in Daytona going over the physical evidence and the victim's medical records. She had ascertained that the perp was left-handed; about five foot nine inches; and one-hundred-seventy pounds. There were never any witnesses to the grabs. The woman were taken to an unknown location where they were repeatedly assaulted sexually then beaten and dumped.

Bones was determined to catch this guy; Booth knew that. Not just because he had hurt her friend, but because he preyed on the weak. Seeley knew better than anyone that, when Temperance Brennan let a case get under her skin like this, there was no stopping her! He just couldn't believe how far she'd been willing to take it.

When she had first suggested they go undercover at the club, he assumed she meant as bartenders or something safe. The owner hadn't been very interested in cooperating until talk turned to DEA and ATF agents paying him a visit. If Booth had really know what was going on in that head of hers, he never would have cooperated. Didn't she know that every single man in this bar was going home to 'Choke the Bishop' to a mental image of her? She was the most beautiful women in here by far. Of course… that was usually the case.

Booth avoided her for the rest of the night. He wasn't sure he could trust himself around her for many reasons. He spent his time questioning the bartenders and scoping out each pervert who walked through the door. He went out to the parking lot and made a list of tag numbers to call in the next day. The sooner they found this guy, the sooner he could get Bones back in her lab where she belonged!

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They were staying in Noanie's apartment. A call from Brennan to Noanie's aunt, her only living relative, had elicited a promise to do so. The fact that they were both orphans was just one more thing that drew these two young women together. Temperance had spent many school holidays with Noanie and her aunt. It sometimes felt like more of a home than her grandfather's place.

The ride back to the apartment was quiet. Brennan had made several attempts to interrogate Booth about his observations of the club's patrons, but after receiving only monosyllabic responses she finally gave up. She inquired about dinner when they entered the apartment, but he begged off claiming complete exhaustion. He suggested she order a pizza as he made his way back to the guest room.

Noanie was currently staying in one of those long term executive suite complexes which come fully furnished. She kept a home in Tucson, but spent extended periods in various locations doing research.

Brennan had tried to convince Booth to accept the master suite, but he had refused saying, "I'm more of a guest than you are."

She knew he probably wasn't getting very much sleep on the small bed in the second room which had basically become Noanie's office. She was sure that was contributing to his restlessness and exhaustion.

Booth escaped to the quiet darkness of the spare room. He could barely walk from the pain and pressure in his pants. He was pretty sure he hadn't been this stiff since high school. He had wanted to throw her in the back seat of the rented suburban and nail her to the seat. His passion mixed with his anger creating a need so great he could barely contain it.

He removed his shirt and loosened his jeans; laying across the tiny bed in the dark. A cold shower would probably help, but he needed a few minutes away from her. The sight and smell of her were too much to deal with right now.

Brennan thought about ordering some dinner so that there would be something for Booth if he came back out starving. But she wasn't really up for anything to eat herself and decided to call Angela.

"You did what? Booth saw you? Are you fucking nuts sweetie? What were you thinking?" Angela was practically apoplectic.

"Angela, calm down! I know what I'm doing, and Booth was right there!"

"That's the problem sweetie. Don't you realize what you are doing to that man?"

"Oh Angela… you're overreacting. Booth is a rational person. He knows that I am just doing what I have to catch Noanie's attacker."

"He's a guy who probably has a hard-on the size of Texas by now and couldn't possibly be 'rational' about watching you undress in front of 50 other men!" Angela giggled.

Brennan burst out laughing as well and they talked for about an hour. The conversation turned serious when Brennan updated Angela on Noanie's condition. Angela had met Noanie on several occasions when she had been in DC visiting Brennan. They were mostly just friends by association, but Angela had a deep respect for Noanie's work and knew how devastating the whole ordeal was for Temperance. Temperance Brennan could be a hard person to get to know, but as a friend she was loyal and true. Angela knew that.

As soon as they hung up Angela screamed, "Hodgie, you won't believe what she's gone and done now!"

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Seeley finally heard the door to the master suite click. He would give her a few more minutes to use the bathroom. There was only one large bath, and it was connected to the master suite through a private door.

Seeley just kept thinking about her being less than 50 feet away again; trying to find a way to get himself out of this predicament. He could go back to DC, but that would mean leaving Bones in Daytona alone. That was not going to happen! He could get his own place; give himself some space, but that would necessitate a very awkward conversation. He found himself trapped, and that made him even angrier!

He finally made his way to the bathroom to shower. As he reached to turn on the light he noticed that the door to her room was ajar. He could see her reflection in the mirror. She was brushing out her wet hair, completely naked; she was crying.

His immediate instinct was to go and comfort her, but he stopped himself. He couldn't do that. He knew that comforting would lead to holding, and he could not be near her like that in a state of complete undress. As much as he would want to comfort her, he would end up taking advantage of her vulnerability, and that was something he could never live with.

Brennan had showered repeatedly and still couldn't wash the feeling of those men pawing at her away. She thought that she could just be 'the anthropologist' like her friend, but having Booth there to witness it had made a bad experience worse.

Angela's word had torn at her heart. Did he understand? How could he? Booth was a guy who ran on instinct and emotion. Could he understand that those men touching her meant nothing? Could he possibly know how much she was dying inside for those hands to be his?

When she finished brushing out her hair, she put on her favorite comfy T and lay out on the bed. Her thoughts remained on him and the short distance between them at present. She could walk through that bedroom door and go to him now; ask for his comfort. She knew that he would do anything for her. He was her knight in bullet proof armor. But, if she went to him, she knew that she would want him in a way that she couldn't have him. There was a line, and he had made it clear that it wasn't one he was willing to cross.

Booth continued to watch her from the dark. His sniper training allowed him to remain completely still. When she finally put on her shirt and settled on the bed, he knew that she would be okay. He could see her working the problem in her head; frustration at her friend's situation; fear of losing her. There were probably a million things going on to upset her. She was an enigma sometimes, but there were times when he could read her like a book.

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Temperance woke with a start. She couldn't remember her dream, but she knew it had unnerved her. There was sweat poring down her back and pooled between her breasts. A quick glance at the clock told her she had only been asleep for about an hour. She suddenly felt famished and decided to go raid the fridge.

The room was too quiet and the balcony door open. Temperance made her way out to the balcony. He stood in the reflected light of the pool. He had on jeans, but they were unbuttoned. Her eyes were drawn to the void in the fabric. She wanted to see what lie beyond the veil of fabric; to explore the deep recesses of his manhood. He says something. He'd noticed her. She licked her lips, her throat dry, but she cannot find the words. She moved closer to him; she continued to stare at his zipper, wanting to ease the fabric down around his hips. He talked about sleep, and the heat. She could only concentrate on the heat that was rising inside her; like a volcano preparing to consume everything in its path.

He hadn't made it to bed yet. He had wondered out into the cool night air hoping it would soothe him, and it had done its magic. He had been thinking back to all the cases they'd worked together. They were a good team. No one could deny that. He only wished he could stop longing for more.

He sensed her presence the second she steped onto the balcony. In the cool night air, under the sweet embrace of the stars, she felt like a mirage. She seemed to be floating on a cloud. He mumbled some lame pleasantries to try to focus his attention away from her physical presence, but all he really knew at that moment was the beating of his own heart and the longing in his soul to touch her.

They moved toward each other as if drawn like magnets. There was no one else in the world at that moment. The universe existed for them; for this very second. The earth, the planets, the sun were all designed for them to have this one moment in time; together. His lips moved down to claim hers when suddenly the silence was rent apart by her voice. "Is that for me?" she asked.

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