A/N: Wow, you guys are awesome. Seriously, folks, everybody who took the time to write a review is a rockstar. Your Boreanazes and Panitzes are being shipped as we speak. If people could continue to review and let me know what you think of the chapter, I would be forever grateful. Plus, I'll throw in a tuxedo with your Boreanaz, and those things ain't cheap. (Soooo worth the price to see it on your Boreanaz, though - it'll really class up your kinky fantasies. Can you say Double-Oh Sexy?*)
Also, I realized that this thing is supposed to be a romance, so today's chapter brings you a little somethin'-somethin' to remind us all that B&B are crazy for each other's bodies. So read onward!
*Author is aware this is a terrible pun, and barely even a pun at all; she invites you to groan aloud.
Booth took out his keys and was about to unlock his front door when it swung open.
"Hey, Bones," he greeted his partner in surprise. "I take it you let yourself in?"
"I got off early today, and I thought I'd wait for you," she replied quickly. She seemed… apprehensive, almost nervous.
He entered the room and she hastily closed the door behind him. "What is it, Bones?" he asked, concerned.
"What is what?" she inquired, feigning ignorance.
"You're all jumpy." Booth took her by the shoulders, slowly rubbing his hands up and down her arms. "Did something happen at work?"
"No, I was just reflecting on our earlier conversation and… I want you to know –" She stared up at him with those clear blue-green eyes of hers, her face perfectly solemn – "that I'm not moving to Uganda."
"What?" he chuckled. "Why would you be moving to Uganda?"
Her eyes searched his, begging him to understand what she was trying to say. "I suppose what I mean is, I'm not leaving."
His heart thudded painfully, and his breath caught short. How did she do that?How did she always shoot straight to the heart of the matter? "Neither am I," he replied, quiet and serious, telling her silently that he understood.
He reached his hand up to cradle her face, his thumb caressing the curve of her cheekbone. Gently pressing his lips to hers, slow and sweet, he was instantly transported back to the night before; the way she could be so close, so near, so intertwined with him and still all he wanted was to hold her tighter, closer, longer. He restrained himself, keeping the kiss soft and short, parting from her lips and resting his forehead against hers, closing his eyes and breathing the sweet scent of her floral perfume. Relax, Seeley. She isn't going anywhere.
"I've been thinking about you all day," she murmured.
And that was what pushed him over the edge. How was he supposed to resist a siren song like that? "I think about you every day," he whispered hoarsely, and with that he snatched her up in his arms and fervently attempted to kiss the words right out of her.
His hands started taking inventory of her body. One smooth, firm back? Check. One cute, curvy ass? Mmmm… Check. One petite, slim waist? Check. Two round, soft breasts? Ohhh yeah… Double check. He felt her insistent hands tugging at his belt buckle, and automatically he began to unbutton her blouse, until he remembered why she was in his apartment in the first place.
"You!" he panted, breaking away from her.
"What?" she asked, perplexed.
"You are distracting me with your feminine wiles," Booth accused. "So that I'll forget about our little wager."
Bones laughed incredulously. "You're the one who started kissing me!"
He shook his finger at her and squinted suspiciously. "That's all a part of your devious plan, trying to make me look like the instigator."
She rolled her eyes. "And you say Hodgins' conspiracies are wild." She smirked at him. "I suppose this is what happens when you become accustomed to speculating all day instead of relying on factual data."
"I do not speculate," Booth retorted. "I come up with possible scenarios. Now, let's get down to business."
"Right." Bones started to unbutton her blouse some more.
"No! The debate!" Booth clarified.
"Oh." She plopped herself down on the couch, looking somewhat dejected.
Booth sat down next to her, turning his body to face her, and immediately spotted a problem. "And you're going to need to button that back up," he informed her, "or I'm going to end up tackling you mid-sentence."
She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.
"No," he told her sternly. "Stop that. We are having this discussion."
She sighed and buttoned up her blouse.
"Now, I'll begin." Booth cleared his throat. "Okay, the first reason we should get married is that we'll save money on taxes."
"Taxes?" Her eyebrows shot up. "Your first reason we should get married is money?"
He gave her a lopsided grin. "Well, I thought I would appeal to your pragmatic sensibilities."
She laughed. "Booth, I'm rich. I have millions of dollars –"
"And yet no television," he muttered.
"- and I have zero interest in financial incentives."
"But I'm not rich," he countered. "I'm just a lowly government employee. I can use all the tax breaks I can get."
"And, perhaps, you hope to gain some of my vast wealth through marriage?" she asked mock-suspiciously.
"No!"
"There's a word for people like you," she said, narrowing her eyes. "I believe it's 'gold-miner.'"
"It's gold digger, Bones, and I am not a gold digger!" Booth protested. "Just because you have more money than me you think I'm scheming to part you from your riches. Now who sounds like Hodgins?"
"I know you're not really interested in my money, Booth," Bones reassured him. "But by the same principle I know that you don't really care about getting tax breaks. So… I think this point goes to me."
He slumped into the cushions. "Fine," he conceded. "But just so you know, I was using my weakest point first. My other reasons are all unbeatable."
"Oh really?" She raised an eyebrow. "Prove it."
