Two days later, sitting on Brennan's plush couch with the case notes spread on the coffee table, Seeley Booth wondered miserably how this could have happened.

Brennan's new pet pig Wilbur had been a hit at the lab two days ago when Brennan and Booth had brought him back from the crime scene. Zach and Hodgins were beyond excited about the stupid thing- after all, a piglet was a step up from the pet beetles they loved to race. Angela, of course, adored Wilbur; she cuddled and cooed at it with the same sort of attention one would give a human baby. Even Cam, surprisingly, took to the little guy and allowed Brennan to keep it in her office the entire day.

But that was not the issue.

The thing that really irked Booth was that the little piglet loved all of them back. Wilbur loved everyone. Everyone except him, obviously.

Booth frowned down at the little pig that stood between him and the kitchen where Brennan was searching her medicine cabinets for band-aids. It had bitten him. Hard. It now seemed to be baring its little teeth at him, as if daring him to get up and take even a step closer to his beloved owner. Booth glared at Wilbur, stung with injustice. He had paid for the damn thing hadn't he? If it weren't for him, the pig would be swimming with the fishies right about now.

Brennan returned from the kitchen, a band-aid and a tube of antibiotics in her hands. Wilbur squealed excitedly at her return and Brennan smiled down at the pig. She dropped the band-aids and antibiotic into Booth's lap unceremoniously and sat across from him. Wilbur put his little hooves on the edge of Brennan's chair and she lifted him up allowing him to settle into her lap with content little snorts.

Booth glanced sourly at her.

"By the way you're treating him," Booth began grumpily. "You'd think he was the one that got bitten."

Brennan rolled her eyes and patted Wilbur's round belly. She had only had him for two days and already he seemed to be developing a potbelly.

"Booth, it was just a little nip," she said complacently.

Booth waved his cut finger around a bit.

"It's bleeding Bones!" he exclaimed emphatically.

"Yea, well don't get blood on the couch," Brennan replied calmly.

Booth scowled at her and sloppily wrapped the band-aid around his finger. When he was done, he took a moment to give Wilbur, who was snuggled oh-so-cozily in his partner's lap, a dirty look.

"Your pig hates me," Booth announced glumly.

Brennan sighed and gave him the kind of look one usually reserves for particularly dim children.

"Booth," she stated. "He is a pig. He doesn't hate anyone. You must have scared him or something. He wouldn't bite you without a reason."

Sullenly, Booth ignored this and pretended to be reviewing the case notes. He hadn't been doing anything to scare the piglet when he was bitten. The pig, as always, had been sitting in Brennan's lap content as could be when Booth had merely leaned in close to his partner so she too could see the crime scene photos. The little devil had attacked his finger.

"He hates me," Booth concluded out loud. "Why else would he have bitten me?"

Since Booth had chosen to ignore her reasoning, Brennan now chose to ignore him. She cupped her chin in her hand and stared idly somewhere to Booth's left, absently stroking Wilbur. Booth plowed on, oblivious to the fact that he was being ignored.

"Out of all the people he could have chosen to hate…" Booth stewed. "Hodgins dropped him, remember? And Angela, she tried to get him to wear that ridiculous bow. What have I done to him? Nothing. In fact, if it weren't for me, he'd be bacon by now. I spent nearly two hundred dollars of my paycheck for a pig that hates me."

By now Brennan was paying attention and she got to her feet, thoroughly annoyed with Booth's outburst. Huffily, she placed Wilbur on the floor and walked over to her purse, pulling out her wallet.

"Here then," she snapped, holding out crisp dollar bills in her hand. "Take the money."

Booth got to his feet also, putting his hands out defensively.

"Aw, come on Bones," he said, trying for a cajoling tone. "I told you that you didn't have to pay me back. Put the money away, okay?"

Brennan stuffed the money back in her wallet somewhat violently and glared at him, hands on her hips.

"You keep telling me you don't want your money back, and yet you keep whining about it," Brennan spat. "So forgive me if I'm a little confused."

They both took a step closer, a sure indicator that this was heading into a full blown argument.

"I merely brought up the money to make a point. I should be the last person your pig hates," Booth explained heatedly.

"Well I'm very sorry you wasted your money," Brennan said with scathing sarcasm. "Next time, don't even bother."

Booth pointed a finger emphatically at Brennan.

"Next time," he said. "Don't cry and then I won't have to waste my money."

When Brennan's mouth gaped open defensively, Booth smiled smugly, sure that he had gained the upper hand in the argument. She swatted his accusing, band-aid covered finger out of her way and took a menacing step forward.

"I was not crying," she stated stonily.

Booth, now enjoying this, made an uncertain face.

"I dunno Bones…" he drawled, shaking his head mockingly. "I definitely saw tears in those eyes."

He stuck his lip out in an exaggerated pout and made his chin wobble. Brennan gave him a little shove when he began making horrendous, feminine weeping noises.

"For your information," Brennan growled through clenched teeth. "I'm highly allergic to hay. Whenever I get near it, my eyes get all red and teary, so if you think I was crying-"

Booth interrupted her with a high pitched sob. Brennan stared at him, marble-like.

"Booth," she began matter-of-factly. "If you're trying to make me laugh, you might as well give up."

But giving up seemed to be the last thing on his mind. With yet another dramatized sobbing fit, Booth flung his head onto Brennan's shoulder. Rolling her eyes, she attempted to push it off, but Booth began sniffling loudly and grabbed the sleeve of her shirt, pretending to wipe his eyes and nose on it.

Brennan couldn't help it. She smiled.

"Okay Booth," she said, suppressing laughter. "You can stop now."

But Brennan's tone, free of anger, only seemed to encourage him to continue his teasing. He let out another fake, girly sob, and rubbed his face on Brennan's shoulder.

"I'm so sorry Bones," he trilled in a high-pitched, weepy voice. "It's just that… small, adorable, baby animals touch my heart so much that I can't stop the tears from coming."

Embarrassed, but laughing, Brennan shoved Booth hard enough to knock him onto the couch. He, however, maintained his grip on her, causing her to tumble onto the couch also, ending up halfway in his lap. Both of them were laughing too hard to be uncomfortable with their position, and without preamble, they began untangling themselves.

That's when it happened. Wilbur bit Booth again.

"Ouch, dammit," Booth exclaimed.

This time Wilbur had bitten Booth's hand, but it at least didn't seem to be bleeding. Brennan picked him up apologetically and moved him away from Booth.

"Wilbur, what was that for?" Brennan asked the pig in a bewildered tone.

The pig merely looked up at her adoringly. Brennan looked from her adoring piglet to Booth, who was holding his hand and looking wounded at the fact that he had gotten bitten twice, and still Wilbur was the one being showered with affection. Something seemed to click in Brennan's mind.

"Wilbur doesn't like you Booth," Brennan suddenly realized.

Booth's face turned sour.

"Gee Bones, thanks for the sudden epiphany," he grumbled.

Brennan put a hand up to stop him.

"Let me finish Booth," she said sternly. "Wilbur doesn't like you because he's jealous of you."

Booth let the words sink in. The pig? Jealous? Of him? He scratched his chin. Well, in a way it made perfect sense. He was bigger than the pig. He was definitely better looking than the pig. He was in Brennan's life way before the pig ever came into the picture.

Still, Booth considered, looking at the pig nestled in Brennan's arms right underneath her breasts. If he and the pig were competing for Brennan's attention, the pig seemed to be holding its own.

"I know!" Brennan said suddenly, causing Booth to snap back into attention. "I bet if I left you two alone for a little while, he'd warm up to you!"

She set the pig down on the ground, and it immediately looked grumpy to be out of Brennan's arms. Booth looked down at it uncertainly.

"I don't know Bones…" he began.

But she was already grabbing her keys and heading towards the door.

"I'm just going to go check my mail," she explained on her way out. "I won't be long."

The door clicked shut behind her and all was quiet except for the sound of Wilbur's discontent snorts. Booth frowned moodily at it. He was at a loss. How do you win a pig over? There was no way he was going to reach down to Wilbur… he'd been bitten two too many times already today.

Booth began thinking. What in the world would make this pig like him? Suddenly it came to him.

"Got it!" Booth said, getting off the couch excitedly and heading into the kitchen. "Food! Why didn't I think of that before?"

He rummaged around in Brennan's fridge. Vaguely, he noticed the pig several feet behind him, lifting its tiny snout in the air to sniff interestedly. Booth's hand finally closed on a stray cup of applesauce that was hidden behind the milk in the back of the fridge. He figured Brennan wouldn't miss it.

"Okay Wilbur," Booth said, removing the foil lid. "I'm giving you a peace offering so I suggest you take it."

Booth bent down and held out the applesauce. Wilbur's hooves made tiny clicking noises as he hurried over and buried his snout into the fruit. With Wilbur's mouth occupied, Booth felt confident enough to wrap one hand around the pig's midriff, lifting him, while the other held the food in place. He settled back down in the living room with the pig on his lap.

When the pig finished licking the plastic cup clean, Booth set it aside nervously, hoping the pig wouldn't decide to snack on his fingers next. But to Booth's surprise, the pig merely stuck its hooves onto Booth's chest and sniffed his face curiously. Tentatively, Booth patted the pig's smooth, pink skin.

"See?" Booth told the pig. "I'm not so bad."

The pig responded by sticking its snout into his ear.

"Whoa there," Booth said, somewhat uncomfortable.

He settled the pig back down on his lap, where it looked up at him expectantly. Booth cleared his throat and put on a serious voice.

"Still," he spoke sternly, amazed that he didn't feel more ridiculous. "It's important that you learn how to share. I knew Brennan way before you, buddy."

The pig snorted and Booth was almost positive he saw a clear, annoyed message in his eyes. Hypocrite, it said. Booth sighed.

"Okay, okay," he conceded. "I guess I can learn to share too."

It was then that Brennan walked in, a small stack of mail in her hands. When she saw Booth and the pig, she beamed and deposited the mail on a side table.

"I knew it!" she claimed, in a self-satisfied tone. "I knew if I left, you two would get along."

"Yea, well…" Booth said, patting the pig grudgingly. "The applesauce helped too."

But Brennan wasn't listening. She put a hand on Booth's shoulder to balance herself and leaned down to kiss Wilbur right on his snout. Her eyes shone with pure adoration for the little pig, and as Brennan leaned down to kiss the pig again again, her hair brushing against the underside of Booth's chin and her warm hand wrapped around his shoulder, Booth couldn't help but feel a little fond of Wilbur too.


Author's Note: Well, most people seem to like Wilbur, so I figured I'd write another chapter. It's really fun to write this story so it's possible that I'll add more to it. I got the idea for this one because I have a pet that attacks anyone who comes near me. God help the man I marry.