Here's the second chapter of this story. Please review and let me know what you're thinking, what seems right and what seems wrong. Is it believable? Is it intriguing? You have an idea that you think could improve this story? Anything you want, I'll be glad to receive them! It helps me get better at this hobbie of mine )

Last but not least, thanks to my Betas again: SherlockBones and Bailadora!

Angela didn't need more than a glance at Brennan entering the lab to know something had happened to her. She followed her to her office, getting in just as her friend was sitting at her desk. She stood right in front of her, hands on hips, one brow raised.

"Talk. I want every little detail. I'm sure it's about a man, I can see it in your face".

"I don't know what you're talking about".

"Bren..." She put on her know-it-all, I-can-read-people's-minds face. "It's me you're talking with. You should know by now you can't fool me."

Brennan held her eyes for a moment, trying to decide what to do.

"Ok, I know I shouldn't be talking this with you, but I don't see any other way around it," she said to Angela.

"If I didn't know you, I'd be hurt. What can be so confusing and amazingly unexpected that you can't talk it out with me? It's guys we're talking about, and once you know one of them you know most of them."

Most of them, she thought. Not all of them.

"That's not biologically possible, Ange. We are all made by a statistically unrepeatable mixture of DNA, its genes activated by ambient and society which makes each of us a different person."

"Oh, no. Now I'm worrying. You go scientific on me, it's 'cause something's really bothering you." She let herself fall to one of the chairs opposite to her friend's.

Brennan looked at Angela. And gave up.

"Ok, something happened. With a man, you're right." She fell silent again. She didn't know—for sure—what would Angela's reaction be. Maybe she could keep the fact it was Booth they were talking about to herself?

"Bren, talk. You've never been shy about men-talk before. Let's start simple. How did you meet him?"

Then the realization came to Brennan: she knew she wouldn't be able to hide any of it. "Promise not to tell anyone 'til it's all sorted out. Not that there's much to tell, but anyway—I'll tell you, but it doesn't get out of these walls."

Angela rubbed her hands together, smiling slyly. "This sounds like fun. Shoot." Then, knowing she'd just gotten her friend confused, added "—talk."

"Last night, Booth and I—" she started, just to be interrupted by her friend's squeal. She just stared at her until she put both her hands over her mouth to stop herself.

"Sorry, Sweetie, but—please tell me you two finally did the deed!"

"No! No, Ange, nothing like that. Maybe simply 'not that'. If by 'deed' you imply what I think you do. But there was a little accident."

Brennan looked into Ange's eyes, taking a moment to collect her thoughts. Then, measuring each word at first, she began to tell her what had happened. "Then, I noticed that he... well, that he—"

"Did he kiss you?"

"No, he did not. He wouldn't. I'm his partner."

"Don't put that crap up to me. Did he bite you then?"

"Ange!"

"But he must have done something to you!"

"Well... No, he didn't. Quite. Something happened, I never said he did something to me. And what happened was..." she had to stop looking at Angela, her stare was so... fixated. She looked at her desk instead. "Well, he was caught in the fact that we were really close and we're both adult, healthy people with certain biological urges, which makes our bodies ever receptive to certain kind of stimuli—"

"Wait... you're saying he went all hot, and that you noticed that you—that he—oh... oh!"

Brennan looked at her friend again, and saw her eyes going huge by the second. "Yes," she replied. "I noticed."

"Bren! But that's—was he—how relevant and interesting was this thing you noticed in him?"

"I'm in no way telling you that. It's Booth we're talking about."

"But that's exactly why! It's been more than 3 years waiting!"

"I haven't been waiting nothing at all, you know that."

"Maybe you don't want to think you do, but you do have to concede that I have been waiting for you to have the knowledge to be able to let me know." She looked at Brennan a second, seeing if she'd cooperate. But she didn't say a word. "Anyway, by your reaction I gather he's rather not impressive, so maybe you don't want to tell to protect him."

"What? No! He's absolutely—" she stopped when she heard Angela's laugh. Then she realized she'd been caught. She had to laugh as well.

"So good, I knew he wouldn't let us down." Angela clicked her nails against Brennan's desk a few times, a look of deep appreciation on her face. "And then? What happened?"

"Nothing, really. I tried to explain him that what had happened was completely natural, but I think I didn't convince him... I don't know. But he finally broke the door open and we got out. Then he drove me home. He didn't say a single word, Ange."

"He was silent? Booth, silent? Wow. And you?"

"We were both silent. I didn't know what else to say, and it seems he didn't know either or he just wanted to forget about it. But then we got to my house and well... this time I didn't offer him a cup of coffee or a beer at my place, and he just remained there in the car, seated and looking through the window. It was an awkward situation, Ange. I didn't know how to act."

"Why didn't you kiss him?"

Brennan rolled her eyes. "I expect you know how I'll answer to that. We're just partners."

"...partners," Angela finished at the same time, rolling her eyes. "Yeah, keep thinking that. After what just happened, I don't think you two will have many more excuses. After all," she added while standing up and leaving her friend's office, "You just admitted that the only reason for not kissing him was that damn line of yours."

Booth was at his office, a file containing further evidence on the case and some info he'd requested opened in front of him on the desk. His eyes kept running over the same paragraph over and over again, and yet its meaning didn't sink in.

His mind was full of Bones.

He was quite used to having her on his mind most of the time. "We're partners," he mumbled trying to convince himself. The thing was, it sounded like a mantra already, he'd used it so much. We spend more time together than with any other people or even alone. I've shared a lot with her, we've been through many things together. It's obvious why she'd be on my mind. There's nothing to think of it.

He felt the usual worm of doubt creeping in him anytime he tried to convince himself of that.

You know better than that. She's the one with trouble accepting her true feelings. You might as well accept what is really there once and for all.

NO. I WON'T RISK US THAT WAY.

But the issue of what had happened the night before remained there.

"God... what am I going to do?" We have to go and see Sweets in a little while. And if we didn't, I'd still have to go to the lab. So, sooner or later, I'll have to face her. And it seems it'll be sooner than I'd like.

He wasn't sure what troubled him the most, if the fact it had happened at all or that he hadn't acted in a better way.

He knew she was right when she told him it was a natural thing to happen. They were, after all, to use her words, two healthy and grown up people. The problem was that the female part of the pairing was Bones.

He'd long ago accepted he had the hots—that he really liked the way his partner was structured. But one thing was to know that—and maybe sometimes even look at her when she wasn't noticing to appreciate her—and other was to start having these kinds of encounters with her. It was dangerous. He could be a good man, one that longed to do everything right, whose conviction was that he had to do things right—but he was a man, a very human male. He had weaknesses, and he would never forgive himself if he risked what he had with her just because he had the hots.

Bones is a weakness of mine.

He made the effort to redirect his thoughts to a different line.

If something like that happened again—first the kiss, then the closet. Never mind the fact there have been months in between—it'd be more difficult to stop himself from doing something they'd both regret afterwards. The slightest mistake, and he could lose her—he could lose what they had forever.

He knew she knew what they had was rare. He knew she'd understand.

That's why he should have been smarter and laughed about the whole thing, but no. He hadn't known what to do and he had shut her out, making it more important than it should be. Now he had only two choices: he ignored it and acted as if nothing had happened, or talked to her about it.

He realized the last option made him nervous. After all, what could he say? Nope, no way he was talking to her about it. He had a right to let things go by with no explanations in between. She did it all the time, why should he have to force himself to an awkward situation, when she would rationalize it and never talk about it again? It happened with the kiss. Ok, he'd dismissed it as well, but she, she acted as if it was of no consequence. In front of Caroline and in front of Sweets, as well. God, she'd even dismissed the fact he'd taken a bullet for her. He'd do it again if necessary, but it didn't mean he didn't want her to be at least a little bit thankful and, at least, not take it against him. He'd been just following protocol, after all...

He felt much better, much more confident. Being a bit mad at her was a good protection against the insecurity of facing her again.

With this new frame of mind, he headed for Sweets's office.

The best solution was simply to deny everything. Bones, being the best at it, would surely understand.