I waited on the couch, trying to decide what to tell Booth

I waited on the couch, trying to decide what to tell Booth. I certainly wasn't going to tell him about the arousal I was now trying desperately to squelch. I was feeling quite foolish now for agreeing to Angela's plan. Certainly we should have at least considered the possibility that someone other than Sweet's might witness our display. At least Hodgins was out of town to speak at a symposium this week, so it hadn't been him who had been knocking heavily on my office door.

Unwittingly, I recalled the cold that was left behind when Angela pulled herself free of our embrace. She tore away from me like flesh ripped from bone, leaving me ragged and tattered, with little loose strings hanging. I could still sense the tingling reminder of the way the sharp edges of her teeth had felt against my tongue as she walked to the door and I rubbed that spot on my own teeth to prolong the feeling.

I heard the door snick open and I withdrew my tongue guiltily, remembering the betrayal that had been written so plainly on Booth's face just a short time ago. How was I supposed to explain that I was so swept up in Angela's plan that I hadn't taken the time to really think it through?

Booth entered, keeping his eyes trained on the floor as he approached me cautiously. His hands were in his pockets, but I could clearly see them clenching repeatedly into tight fists. "Booth," I said gently, "Sit down."

He obliged, taking a seat at the other end of the couch, leaving a space where Angela had been, his long legs spread and his elbows resting heavily on his knees as he leaned forward and let his hands dangle down. I watched him for a moment as he examined his hands as I tried to gather my thoughts.

I could only hope that he would understand. Not too long ago, he'd been trying to teach me that sometimes decisions aren't made with logic and methodical planning. Sometimes they come from the heart. But somehow, I don't think this was quite what he had in mind.

I was surprised when he spoke up before I was ready to begin, "So… Bones. When were you going to tell me that the two of you were... Together?" His voice was unusually low and gruff, the words far more clipped and abrupt than I'd anticipated.

Moving to sit closer to him, I put an arm around his shoulders, which he tried to shrug off, but I held steady. "Booth, earlier today, I was talking with Sweets and—"

"What's he got to do with this, Bones?"

"Shhh," I said, trying to stay calm, but the nervousness was overpowering me. "Let me explain. He started talking about how unsuccessful I've been with men. That it may be a sign of something. Specifically, he pointed out that my relationship with Angela is perhaps the most intimate and loyal of my life. That perhaps I just hadn't discovered my true sexual preference yet."

"Guess that boy's finally right about something, eh Bones?"

Swatting his shoulder lightly, I continued, "Booth. Stop it. He isn't right. The evidence doesn't even support his theory. The things he presented actually indicate that I do not readily trust people and that I have a tendency to push people away when they try to become more deeply involved."

"I still don't get it, Bones. What does Sweets making another incorrect assumption about you have to do with you and Angela holding a make out session in your office? I mean, Christ, Bones! The two of you were a few steps shy of the horizontal mambo." His head dropped down again, this time into his hands, but not before I saw the glisten of tears in his eyes.

"First of all Booth, Angela and I were still fully vertical, so it would require a full ninety degrees to bring us to horizontal and there was certainly no dancing. Second of all, let me finish. You see, Angela said that we needed to teach Sweets a lesson. The whole idea was immature and ridiculous, but you know Angela made it sound like I didn't have a choice. And part of me really wanted to get Sweets at his own game."

"So you kissed? I don't think he's even here, Bones."

"He was walking down the hall towards my office when we started kissing. A few moments later you were knocking on the door and he was no where to be found. But he was here. He just has poor timing and we didn't really think our plan through."

Lifting his head, he examined my face for a moment before asking, "So you and Angela aren't sneaking around to have sex in the broom closets then?"

I had to laugh at that. "No, Booth. Or anywhere else for that matter."

"Why didn't you just tell me, Bones?"

"I was enjoying that look on your face. A little revenge for you not telling me that you were really alive since I wasn't going to get my revenge on Sweets."

Booth leaned back against the couch at this, folding his arms across his chest, finally smiling at me a bit. "Temperance, you never cease to amaze me."

"What's that supposed to mean, Booth?" I asked, wondering at the slight cock of his head as his eyes seemed to do a detailed inventory of my facial features and clothing design.

"I didn't think you had it in you. That was quite this kiss, Bones. Definitely hot," he teased, trailing a finger down my sleeve until he reached my hand, which he wrapped into his. "How come I didn't get one of those?"

I grinned, noticing that the tension was slowly draining from his muscles.

"Booth, I couldn't give Caroline that kind of incentive to go getting 'puckish' again, now, could I? Besides," I teased, bumping my shoulder against him, "That was just a kiss. This was supposed to convince Sweets that Angela and I were lesbian lovers."

He let loose a deep throated laugh at that, throwing an arm over my shoulders to give me a little squeeze. "I didn't know you were so cunning, Temperance."

"I learned from the best, Seeley." I retorted, giving him a firm pat on the knee. He surprised me then by putting his hand over mine as he released a heavy sigh, shifting slightly to bring his thigh in close contact with my own. I glanced over at him and found he was watching me. Specifically, his eyes seemed to be exceedingly interested in my lips. Whatever he was seeing pleased him, because his lips curled up in a toothy grin.

"So, Dr. Brennan, how do I get in on your next scheme?" He lifted his eyebrows and tugged my hand until I leaned into his embrace fully. "I'd like to be on the receiving end of one of those…"

Playfully, I pulled back and slugged his shoulder. Despite his leer, I felt a grin cracking across my face. Shaking my head, I looked away as I informed him, "It's going to take a lot more than a little batting of your eyes and making fun of me, that's for sure."

"But Temperance, I can do much better than that…" He was leaning in towards me, forcing me back against the couch to keep from having his nose bump into mine. Just before his face collided with mine, he diverted to the side, bring his lips within millimeters of my ear. He paused for a moment, letting his breath tickle my ear before whispering, "You know how I know that?"

Unwittingly, I shivered at the sensation and the possessive tone he was taking. "How?"

"Because last time we kissed…" He pulled back just enough to meet me eye to eye and said, "You liked it."

I think I gasped, because he propelled himself up and off the couch so quickly something must have frightened him. I opened my mouth to speak, but he strode away. At the door, he turned to let me see the smirk that he had donned before letting himself out and shoving his hands deep into his pockets before disappearing.

I sighed, releasing a breath I didn't know I'd been holding. Momentarily, I considered calling Angela. I needed to decipher what had just transpired. I stopped myself however, as I considered that she probably would not much appreciate dissecting Booth's sudden decision to express his lack of opposition to the prospect of kissing me.

Certainly, I knew before this that Angela believed that Booth had more than just a professional interest in me. But until this, I hadn't really explored it as a real possibility. He regarded me with respect and, while he didn't always behave in a fully professional manner, he was the one who had pointed out that he did not agree with work place entanglements. I knew his involvement with Cam had been based on past experiences, but our relationship had always been strictly work-based.

This sudden change must have somehow been triggered by what he'd witnessed between Angela and I. In my mind, I replayed his words. Before he knew that it was fake, he'd been angry that I hadn't told him. But he'd said it in a way that implied that a relationship with Angela would have affected him in some way personally. Certainly this wasn't the first time that he had voiced his opinions regarding my relationships. But in the past, his negative observations had been directly related to his belief that my safety might be in jeopardy.

In this case, I wasn't in any danger.

Next, I considered the possibility that his anger had been because of the homosexual nature of the situation. He was Catholic. But that scenario was quickly dismissed because once he knew it was intended as a joke, he hadn't seemed to object at all.

No, Booth's anger in this situation was definitely linked to either the possibility that Angela and I were involved without his knowledge, or the idea that I was, at least to some degree, homosexual.

Suddenly, the connections appeared.

His anger and subsequent expression of his desire to kiss me again were both directly linked. Booth had been jealous and at the very least he wanted another chance to get close to me. None of it really changed anything. I hadn't really said anything explicit regarding how I'd felt about the kiss with Angela or the possibility of kissing him again. I certainly was not prepared to begin a relationship with him on the basis of this conjecture alone. But now I knew.

Of course, all of this was based on the idea that what Angela and I had done was just pretend. That too was going to have implications eventually. While my body thrummed with desire at the mere thought of our stolen moment, I couldn't see myself in a relationship with her. Angela was a woman who required romance and spontaneity. While in her presence, I had my moments of impulsivity, I certainly did not know how to romance someone.

A knock on the door broke my concentration and I automatically rose and opened the door. "Hey, Ange."

"I just stopped by to tell you that Cam's got me doing a facial reconstruction a cold case. But I know we need to talk…" She said, chewing on the side of her lip.

"Do you have a minute?"

"I've got to get started—" She shifted, turning slightly as if she might leave.

"No, not the whole talk." I reached out and touched the soft skin of her forearm. "I just… I just wanted to tell you something," I said nervously, letting my fingers slide down until they were holding hers.

"Yeah, sorry," she replied, stepping fully into my office. I watched her as she wandered back over to the couch, her hand running over the fabric on the spot where we had been.

"I told Booth about the plan."

"Yeah, I told Hodgins too."

I walked over to where she was standing, looking down to watch her hand stroking the fabric there. "Ange, I just want to make sure we're okay. No matter what—"

"Awwww, sweetie," she said, stopping me from what was certainly about to be babbling. She took her hands from the couch and placed them squarely on my shoulders, turning me until I faced her. "We'll figure this out. I'm not going anywhere." Noticing that I was still trying to avoid her gaze, she ducked slightly and grinned up at me until I managed to smile back. "Now… I want to know what Booth said when you told him."

I rolled my eyes at her relentlessness. "You sure?" I asked.

"Bren, we kissed. I'm engaged. You don't owe me anything, romantically speaking. Besides, you know I get a thrill off the sparks that fly between the two of you."

I chuckled softly, nodding before asking her, "First off, I am correct in concluding that his initial reaction was some form of jealousy, right?"

"Definitely."

"Once he knew it was fake, he said it was hot and wanted to know why I hadn't kissed him like that… You know… at Christmas."

"What'd you say?"

"That I didn't want to encourage Caroline." Angela nodded in agreement, so I continued, "Then he asked how he could get in on my next 'scheme' and implied that he was fairly certain that I had enjoyed our kiss under the mistletoe."

Her hand came up and stroked a few stray hairs back from my face as she added, "I told you the man has it bad for you. I don't know why you haven't taken advantage of it yet. I know you want to, deep down."

"Ange!"

"What can I say? I know you well enough to know that you are a very liberated person, sexually speaking, Bren. I've never seen you so skittish about a guy you clearly have such chemistry with."

"I just don't want to complicate things, you know?"

Angela nodded and drew me into a hug, her arms slung heavily around my neck, bringing our faces a breath apart. "All right, I'm going to go take care of this nonsense that Cam assigned me. But don't worry. We'll talk tonight. I'll meet you at your place at…sevenish?"

I nodded. "Sounds good." I wrapped my arms around her waist to return her exuberant hug, bringing our hips into close contact unintentionally. Angela let out a little gasp of surprise and tightened her grip on me just a bit. I could feel her breaths coming warm and humid on my neck, stirring the hairs there. We held on for a long moment as she tucked her face even closer to my neck.

"We feel good together, Bren. I don't think I ever paid attention to that before." I felt each word land on my skin like a kiss, sending my pulse racing and forcing a flush of heat to the surface.

Eventually, she drew back, leaving behind patches of chilled air where her skin had been. She lifted her hand to give me a wave goodbye as she turned, and then she was gone.

Once again I was left adrift and alone in my office. I looked around, hoping to find something constructive to focus my energy on when I noticed the case file that I had set aside on the coffee table in favor of more mischievous activities. Scooping it up, I went to my desk, determined to finish closing out this case.

For the first time in months, I arrived home from work early. I had struggled to keep my mind on my work all afternoon in a way that I couldn't remember having before. Particularly when, after lunch, I realized that Angela kept passing by my office. I would hear the light tapping of her sandals striding past and look up. But it was the streak of color that held my attention. The blouse she was wearing was a vibrant pink that stood in stark contrast to the monochromatic tones of the lab. It also had these satiny ribbons that tied the sleeves at the elbows that streamed out behind her as she moved. No matter how hard I tried to concentrate on my work, that color was like a flame.

I was drawn.

Somehow, I had managed to finish the case file and I packed up and went home to a particularly unfamiliar situation. This was certainly significantly different than those nights when Angela came over and we had a beer and talked. But this certainly wasn't a date. For nearly a half an hour I debated on whether or not I should order food before giving in and calling Angela for her opinion. We quickly decided that I would order Thai and she would bring some beer.

After that, I managed to calm myself, placing the call to order our food, then walking into the bedroom to change. I slipped into a brown tank top and a pair of worn khaki shorts before padding barefoot into the bathroom to wash off my makeup and take out the clip that was holding my hair back.

I was still trying to loosen the kinks that the clip had created in my hair when I heard my phone ringing out in the living room. I hurried quickly to answer the phone. The voice on the other end told me to come down to the lobby as my food had arrived. Scooping up my money and keys, I walked down the stairs to the lobby of my building and found the delivery man waiting.

As he exited the building, Angela came in. She didn't see me at first, giving me an opportunity to study her. While she hadn't changed that blouse that had proven to be such a distraction earlier, she had traded her pale slacks for a light weight linen skirt that floated down to the floor. She had her purse slung over one shoulder and a case of beer weighing down the other.

When I realized that she was about to head up the stairs without seeing me, I called after her, "Hey Ange! Wait up….You're early."

"What are you doing down here… oh the food just get here?"

I nodded and gestured towards the stairs, letting her take the lead. As we climbed the stairs in silence, I watched the sway of her hips and the rippling effect they had on the length of fabric that clung from them. I was surprised when we reached my door and she quickly inserted her key in the lock without a word, letting us both into my place.

She went straight for the fridge to stow away the beer and I set to work pulling the Thai out of the bags. When she reappeared beside me, she held up two bottles Red Stripe that she had found in my fridge. "This okay until the stuff I brought gets cold?"

"Mmm, sounds good."

We both sat down on the couch next to each other and soon we were both reclining, feet on the table, eating from our paper cartons of food and laughing about Angela's afternoon with Cam. Evidently all the back and forth was required because she kept coming up with reasons why she needed to re-examine parts of the skull while Angela was trying to do the reconstruction.

I sat up and set my carton on the table next my empty bottle. Still leaning forward, I turn to watch her, still reclining. Her head is tilted back as she takes the last drink from her bottle. I can see the motion of her swallowing beneath that smooth, exposed skin. My gaze travels down, following until I've found the lowest point of her blouse and realize that I can see the curve of the side of her breast peaking from the edge of her bra. I begin to imagine leaning in to taste that spot so near to her heart.

She feels my eyes on her and brings her head upright to look back at me. I lick my lips, trying to re-hydrate the parched flesh there. This causes her to stiffen slightly, averting her eyes to the label on her bottle.

"I'm going to get another beer, Ange. You want one?" I asked, already rising from the couch.

"Sure."

I open the fridge and pull out two of the cans Angela had bought. They weren't quite cold, but they'd have to do. Coming back, I sat down next to her, handing her the can before speaking, "Ange, I think it's time to talk."

"I know," she replied begrudgingly.

We both turned to look at one another, neither of us speaking.

"I think we should kiss again."

The words flew from my mouth before I knew that they'd been formed.

"Why?"

I reached out and took her hand. "I want to be sure Ange. That what we felt wasn't purely circumstantial. We're risking a lot here if it turns out that this wasn't really worth it."

Angela looked at me uncertainly, beginning to nervously chew her lip as I leaned in, taking her failure to raise any objections as permission.

This kiss began with a hesitant brush of our lips before the collision occurred. We came back in for more after that brief encounter, our hands and bodies joining in the excitement that our lips were experiencing. I could feel her hands snaking around my waist, pulling me in close. And it was her mouth that moved away from the kiss first. They moved downward, finding places along my throat and chest to taste and nibble. Each little tickle from her mouth lifted my head back further, until I was arching back, nearly begging her to touch me. Her hands hauled me up off the couch and onto her body as she leaned back and my hands were able to slide under the crisp fabric of that pink blouse to find the definite structure of her ribs cage, scraping along the edges with my nails until I managed to elicit a moan from her lips.

Her hips rocked up into mine, causing her legs to spread wider. My thigh fell into the space as I pulled her face up from my chest to meet her in another kiss. Intentionally I kept it light, tugging gently on her bottom lip as I felt her writhe below me. The hands that had been on my hips slowly begin to peel my tank top upward and I wonder why there hasn't been any talking.

But all thoughts of having a discussion about this were put on hold when I found myself entirely topless with her fingers moving eagerly to tease my nipples.

Her ministrations ceased abruptly as the sound of her cell phone broke through quiet apartment. The only sound was the echo of her gasping, her eyes locking onto her purse for a long moment before she pushed me off of her and stood up.

"Sweetie. I—I don't think I can do this tonight. I don'…"

"Ange, don't go."

"Look, I need to think some things through… before we talk. And Hodgins—I have to… I just can't. Not yet, Bren. I've got to go."

Before I could even fully sit back up on the couch she was gone, her unopened can of beer still sitting on the table.