"Who was that?" Booth nodded over her shoulder and Brennan turned to look at the retreating car. Tinted windows made it impossible to see the driver but she imagined Carlos inside, smiled. Within seconds the entire vehicle was out of sight. She sighed, turning back to Booth and shook her head.

"Just a friend." He stepped away from his slouched stance against his car and followed her up the stairs.

"Were they the clothes you were in last night?"

"Since when do you take such an interest in my clothes?" She'd taken off her jacket and it was slung across her arm. She would've showered at Carlos' but Booth had called.

"Since you get dropped off outside your house by a mysterious vehicle wearing the same clothes I left you in." Brennan got the key in her door but turned to Booth before she opened it.

"And that is your business, how exactly?"

"I just…" He trailed off and she shut the door behind them.

"I have to shower." Brennan dropped her jacket on the couch and stalked towards the bedroom. Pulling clothes out haphazardly, she wondered how he'd manage to make her good mood evaporate so quickly. Usually Booth was the one who made her feel better when no one else could. Instead, he'd just made her feel like she needed to defend herself.

Shutting the bathroom door and throwing her clothes onto the floor as she undressed quickly, Brennan got under the steaming water and rubbed shampoo into her hair. She felt like going back to Carlos' house, where nothing outside him and her and the view existed.

"Bones!" She heard the bathroom door open and thrust her head under the water to wash the shampoo out.

"What?" She called. His next words were muffled by the water streaming over her ears so she opened the shower door slightly and looked out. He had her phone in his hand and an incensed look on his face.

"Do you want to tell me why Carlos Manos, a man permanently on the FBI's watch list just dropped your cell phone off? Actually do you want to tell me why he knows where you live or why he even has your cell in the first place?" Brennan opened her mouth and closed it again. She must've left her phone in his car.

"I…"

"You want to live on the wild side, get a tattoo, okay? Don't go out picking up random men who run their own mafia organisations. And don't tell them where you live."

Brennan's mouth opened in outrage as she ignored the running shower and her own nakedness. She couldn't argue properly around a fogged glass screen.

"Don't you dare insinuate that I would just go and casually pick someone up from a bar. Or that sleeping with him was just me trying to fill some anthropological urge to feel more alive by living dangerously." She'd moved closer to Booth as her voice became louder. She couldn't believe how belittled he'd just made her feel because his alpha male sensibilities were piqued.

"Besides, who I sleep with is none of your business!" He was trying to hand her a towel and she could see his eyes dipping towards her chest. He'd been around before when she was disrobing to get into a decontamination shower but she sensed this was different; the anger that was mounting between them incensed the air as effectively as the aroma of her rose scented shampoo.

"It is when you choose bed partners like that. Do you even know who he is in the underworld? How many people he's killed?" She took the towel and wrapped it around herself.

"Carlos is… He's an old friend, okay?" She saw disbelief enter Booth's eyes and shook her head.

"You don't understand."

"And this guy does?" She pushed a hand through her wet hair and took a step back. She thought it might have been better the morning after; they would both have had time to put some distance between the Epps episode. She'd been wrong. She should have stayed at Carlos' longer, foregone reality for as long as she could.

"You should probably go pick Cam up at the hospital." Brennan reached behind her to widen the opening to the shower.

"Temperance…" She crossed her arms around herself, feeling vulnerable. Sometimes he would come up with the most perfect words, would make her feel as if no one else understood her in the way he did. And sometimes he made her feel like she was nothing to him, like the distance between them would remain ever widening.

"Don't, Booth. Just… Don't." She'd readied herself for a fight but felt herself already defeated. Or already won. Either way, the outcome was the same.

xXx xXx xXx

Booth tried not to slam Bones' door behind him but he couldn't help it. Sometimes the woman made him want to grab her and shake her until she got off her stubborn high horse and back to reality. Carlos Manos. He couldn't believe it. How would Bones; straight laced and occasionally zealous in her effort to search for the truth to get the justice… How would she have even met Carlos? And why would she have kept in touch with him if she knew what kind of a man he was? Too surprised at the time to have done anything but accept Bones' phone from him, Booth berated himself for not taking a shot at the guy's face. Even a small right jab to the ribs would've made him feel better.

"Goddamnit, Bones." Booth felt himself mutter under his breath as he climbed into his car. An enigma she was. He'd spent last night at a casino, drinking beer and watching people drag themselves further down in debt. Usually, after an event like Epps, he'd spend the night with Bones eating Wong Foos and talking about justice and history and anything else her alarmingly overstuffed mind would alight on. But he'd chosen to confront his weakness, another hobby for the nights. Sometimes he needed to feel like he was winning in the game of life and putting his money towards Parker's college fund rather than onto the craps table generally convinced him. The sound of dreams being filled as slot machines paid up took his mind off Epps' last words, anyway. And until he'd seen Bones arrive home in some guy's car wearing the same thing she'd been wearing the night before, he'd felt upbeat. Now he felt like he'd taken as step back into the depression of last night.

xXx xXx xXx

Brennan lay awake in bed. She knew she should be tired; it's not like she'd gotten much sleep Friday night. Saturday night had been sleepless because of the same thoughts she was having now.

Changing position for the fifteenth time, she slid a hand under her pillow and sighed. She knew Carlos was something she needed to keep to herself but she hadn't expected Booth to get as mad as he did. He knew she slept with other men, knew she'd had boyfriends in the past. It must be Carlos' current job description he was concerned with, because she didn't remember him getting as worked up in the past. Then again, he'd never warmed to David while Brennan had liked him. He'd been sweet and caring and didn't make her feel like she needed to give him more than sex and intelligent conversation. Why did she and David break up?

Brennan let out a grunt of frustration and turned her light on. Midnight introspectives, she did not do. It was more of an Angela thing. Midnight Wong Foos and irrational conversations with Booth, she did. Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, Brennan ran a hand through her hair. She may as well go to the lab and type up the report she'd need to give the investigators on Monday. Then, after that, she could work on some unidentified bones from storage.

Pulling clothes out of her cupboard, she wondered idly what Booth was doing and decided he'd be with Cam. Besides, the way things were between them at the moment she didn't expect a knock on the door and chinese food.

xXx xXx xXx

Booth kicked off the sheet and looked at the dark ceiling. He couldn't sleep. It was the same problem he'd had last night; every time he closed his eyes he was assaulted by images; Bones arriving home in the black SUV, Manos dropping her phone off and looking so comfortable doing it and Bones arguing with him with water running off her wet hair in rivulets, across her breasts and down that tantalisingly smooth stomach…

Groaning and rolling onto his side, Booth punched his pillow. There'd been moments when she'd had to get in the decontamination showers that he'd caught sight of a length of thigh or a bare shoulder but nothing in the mood of what he'd seen today. And nothing that'd made him feel this way before; sleepless and unable to unimagine the image. It was permanently seared, taunting him. It didn't help that, after his abrupt departure from Bones', he'd sat at Wong Foos and drank beer until Sid had brought him something to soak up the alcohol. By then it had been too late and he'd needed to call a taxi, forgetting completely about his promise to pick Cam up. When his phone vibrated in his pocket and he saw she was trying to call he'd put the phone back and tried to ignore the vibrations. As he was trying to ignore Bones' long legs right now; he knew she was tall, but not that she was all lean leg and creamy, perfectly shaped thigh. The blue lab coat wasn't cut to convey that.

Rolling back onto his back, Booth sighed and rubbed his forehead. Monday was going to be an interesting day.

xXx xXx xXx

She was asleep at her desk when he walked in. So far he'd managed to avoid Cam by ducking around a pillar and almost jogging into Bones' office. Why she had to have glass doors, he didn't know. And why hadn't she been woken up by one of the squints or Cam? He knew she and Angela liked to chat in the mornings before they both started work.

"Bones?" He said from the doorway before stepping further into the room. He cleared his throat, waited, cleared it more loudly. She sat up quickly, one hand pushing back the hair she'd slept on so it wasn't flattened against her neck.

"I'm awake."

"Guess you haven't found much time to sleep lately." As soon as he said the words and saw the flash of hurt through her eyes, followed closely by anger, he was sorry for the cheap shot. Bones was worth more than cheap shots; she deserved a well thought out argument but that was something he didn't have. His reasoning for being so pissed off at her latest bed partner was still something he was questioning, something he'd considered briefly during his sleepless night. Unfortunately, thinking of Brennan at all had brought the image of her, sans towel, into his mind, rendering sleep impossible so he chose not to dwell on it. Even this morning he wasn't sure whether it was because it was Manos, or because she'd been out with a man, someone he didn't know and could have no control over. He'd already looked at the files; Manos was untouchable. Until there was a big enough case to sink him and his organisation, the man was under a strict code of look but don't touch. And even then, don't look. Obviously Bones hadn't gotten that memo. Then again, as she liked to remind him, she wasn't FBI.

"Seeley!" Cam had spotted him; she was stalking towards the doorway.

He looked from one woman to the other. Cam was scary but she couldn't hold a card to Bones.

"Cam." He said weakly.

Bones was shrugging on her lab coat, preparing to ignore him. He'd been on the receiving end of her ice queen act more than once and he'd always vowed never to let himself end up there again.

"Bones, I'm sorry… I just meant… Working." He knew his apology was feeble but it was the best he could do at the moment. He hadn't gotten much sleep either, although it wasn't due to a scar faced mob boss. Bones didn't even look at him as she left the room and his eyes followed her until his line of vision collided with Cam.

"Her or me, Seeley."

"What?" His mind was still chasing Bones out of the room and it took a moment for Cam's words to sink in.

"I don't want to go all high school on you but there's your choice. I know I've asked you before but I thought things between us might have… Changed that." She took a step closer to him, touched his arm. He looked down at her hand, made a decision.

"I'm sorry, Cam. We… You got hurt because of me, and I can't… It's not professional." She stepped back to her original space and he could see her struggling to look impassive.

"I'm sorry…" Booth stepped to the doorway, next to her, alighted a hand on her shoulder. She nodded, not looking at him, and he left the room, looking for Bones.

xXx xXx xXx

"So how are you?" Angela was perched on a chair on the lab platform, hands folded primly on her knees. Brennan gave her a flicker of a look before her attention returned to the skeleton on the table. She'd started writing notes until almost falling asleep standing up. Having left it unfinished gave her something to concentrate on in her avoidance of Booth. She thought he might have apologised to her this morning but she should have known better than to go on hope. She should have gone on rationalisation; an alpha male will instinctively try to justify his decision and course of action to himself and those around him by means however irrational before admitting he is wrong. And Booth was certainly an alpha male. And his decision was obviously to treat her as if she'd done something worse than find comfort in the arms of an old friend.

"Fine, Ange. I couldn't sleep last night so I came in and typed up the report from Friday night-."

"That's what I'm talking about, sweetie. Friday night." Brennan paused in her perusal on the lower fibula but kept her eyes down. Angela hadn't heard Booth's opening line to her this morning, had no reason to know that her weekend had been spent doing washing, vacuuming her apartment and staying with an old friend who happened to be tied to some shady organisations.

"It was an accident. Booth couldn't hold on to him… It's just the job, Ange." She sensed Angela stand up behind her and turned around.

"It's not 'just a job', Bren." Angela's hands made quotation marks in the air.

"A serial killer got into your house and tried to take you out with a tire iron before being dropped off your balcony. Most people don't have jobs like that. A tire iron, sweetie!" Brennan turned back to the skeleton. She'd found, since she'd seen Carlos, she hadn't really thought about the Epps episode, other than to write her report. Besides, Booth's sudden animosity was occupying her mind as well.

"Nothing happened to me. I figured out he'd be there and so did Booth. We both had our guns on him."

Angela stared at her best friend's back with incredulity. She couldn't believe Brennan was being so calm about it. Then again, that was Bren; calm to the point of other people stressing out for her. Like Angela, Friday night after she heard what had happened.

"But he was in your apartment. He got in. He was trying to kill you."

"But he didn't." Brennan straightened up, her hands on her hips. Angela shook her head.

"I hope you realise how hard it is being your friend sometimes. The worry threshold becomes hard to handle."

"For everyone around you. Hey, Booth." Hodgins extended Angela's sentence before greeting Booth, who was walking up the stairs. Angela threw Jack a withering glance before smiling at Booth. For one thing, he'd saved her best friend. For the other, since he'd saved her best friend, they might be closer. It was Angela's opinion that near death experiences brought people together. If Jack hadn't nearly died, she wasn't sure they'd be together now. Then again, he'd probably have found some other way to wear her down.

"Sorry, Bones-." Booth stopped at her examination table.

"Are you here for a case?" Cutting him off, Brennan moved to view the skeleton from the other side so her back was to Booth. Delicately, she reached out and nudged a phalange into place.

"I came in to tell you I've been pulled from duty for a psychological evaluation. Because of Friday." Angela waited for Brennan to protest.

"Okay." Her tone was cool, her eyes downcast, surveying the bones as a whole.

"There will be someone else you're working with; Tim Sullivan. He's a good guy." She merely nodded.

"Just keep tonight open, there might be a body." Booth shuffled his feet, waiting for a reply. He thought she might have reacted with more when he told her he'd been pulled. He sure as hell had; he'd yelled at Cullen. Which hadn't helped matters at all.

"What, you think I'll be out sleeping with gangsters?" Her hands went back to her hips and she finally looked up, anger shining in her eyes. Booth mentally kicked himself. He'd been trying hard not to say anything else to her lest this happen. Now, inadvertently, he'd put his foot in it again.

"What?" Hodgins looked up from his microscope, eyes wide. Zach dropped the pen he'd been holding and Angela leant on the free lab table and bit her lip.

"Gangsters, sweetie?"

"Booth thinks I'm on some kind of adrenaline trip that involves whoring myself out to mafia men." She'd dismissed him as she said the words and he felt his mouth drop. He wondered if that was what she really thought and decided it was; Bones wasn't the type of person to make lies up just to hurt the other person. She'd say what she meant. He didn't want to argue, but he couldn't walk away from that. Besides, he had her safety in mind.

"Mob boss, Bones. He's a goddamn mob boss. He has more assassins on his payroll than the CIA."

"Don't you tell me about him!" She advanced towards him, skeleton dismissed. He waited for the loud words to follow but her next words were soft, hitting home harder.

"You know nothing about him. And he knows more about me than you ever will." Her final words were punctuated by her gloves being thrown in the bin. She gave him one last, withering glance before stalking off to her office. Booth balled his hands into fists and layered curses at himself in his head.

"Booth-." Angela started to talk but Booth held up a hand. He didn't need any more chances to trip himself up.

"Ask her, Angela. I'm done with it." Turning he walked away from the platform. From what he'd been told by a superior this morning, he wasn't going to be working with Bones until his evaluation was complete. And with the way he was feeling at the moment, he wasn't sure how long it would take to prove himself duty worthy.

xXx xXx xXx

A jealous Booth and some naked arguing (one sided, sadly). I've had a Citizen Cope revival so I've been listening to him non-stop for a while now. This fic was written largely to the tune 'Bullet and a Target' by him which is an amazing song – if you haven't heard it, seek it out. Reviews coveted!