Spoilers: Hm. Not that I know of. Well, not really. I don't know. Nothing important.
Disclaimer: I hope you like this chapter. It's pretty much pure fluff. I want apple juice...
Author's Note: This is dedicated to all my friends for a last-minute arrangement of pancakes, waffles and apple tea this morning! Couch!
"Seriously? That's your news? You interrupted my reading for that?" she demanded, more incredulous than annoyed. Snatching her book back, she rolled her eyes. She was relieved to see that Booth had had enough sense to keep her page. Booth, in turn, rolled his own eyes. Neither noticed the knock at the door, nor Laura leaving the room.
"Bones, it's not 'nothing' news! It's Mel Brooks!" He spread his hands in a shrugging gesture. She picked her book up pointedly.
"Hey," he began. "Look on the bright side!" She looked at him blankly over the top of her book as if to warn him. He grinned. "We have something to do tonight."
"More than something!" Laura gloated as she walked into the lounge room from the front door holding a bag of DVDs and a very generously sized bottle of liqueur. Grinning, she set it down on the coffee table in the living room and moved to the kitchen to find glasses, handing Alex the DVDs.
Booth laughed as Brennan stared intently at the bottle. "You look like starved dog with a carcass," Booth teased. Brennan rolled her eyes, but put her book down as Laura returned with the glasses.
She jumped when the first DVD started up, making Booth laugh again. "Shut up, Booth, I'm trying to watch the movie!" she snapped. He pushed her back into the couch, virtually drowning her in the pillows.
"Shut up, yourself, and sit back and relax, Bones. This isn't something you'll have to write a report on," he reminded her. She raised her eyebrows in challenge.
"We actually do have to write a report on it, remember?" she said condescendingly. "Cullen wants 'feedback'," she reminded him bitterly. Booth thought for a second.
"Huh," he grunted before handing Brennan a glass of the thick liquid off the coffee table. She smelled it and took a sip, coughing.
"Who brought this?" she exclaimed, looking at Laura.
"Agent Powers; a rookie. They make him do the running," she laughed. Brennan raised her glass in an oddly normal gesture.
"I think they should promote him," she said with a smile. Booth decided to take a chance while she seemed happy and reached out to ruffle her hair playfully. She simply turned her head so she could give him a look of confusion. He laughed and 'subtly' ran his hand through her hair and down her shoulder before turning his attention to the DVD. Brennan stared at him a few second longer before turning to the TV.
That was odd.
"You know, Doctor Brennan," Alex began. "Oh, sorry," he slurred, "Temperance, I never picked you for a drinker." He took another sip of his drink. He'd managed to stay relatively sober, somehow, and now was just laughing at the rest of them.
Laura was asleep in her chair; Booth and Brennan were sitting side by side on the couch, not quite touching. He sat in his chair across from them. They'd somehow managed to watch all five of the movies that the young agent had brought without falling asleep, with the exception of Laura.
But, then, that was as much the alcohol as anything. Booth had consistently reminded Brennan that they didn't have to work the next day. So she'd obliged.
Booth scoffed. "Bones? Not a drinker? Ha!" he laughed. Brennan pouted.
"And what exactly do you mean by that?" she asked haughtily. Booth sighed heavily, but ignored her, and spoke to Alex.
"There was this one time when Bones and I had-"
"Shut up, Booth."
"No, really, it was hilarious. We-"
"Booth, shut up. Drink." She shoved a glass at him, frowning. Booth obliged without much thought. He held up his glass.
"To 'partner building'," he said ironically. Alex laughed as Brennan rolled her eyes. Laura mumbled something in her sleep, and Alex looked between her and his two companions on the couch. Understanding his obligation towards his partner, Booth nodded at him. Shaking her by the shoulder, Alex woke Laura and helped her upstairs.
Booth sat back and sighed, linking his hands behind his head and sticking his legs out, ankles crossed. Brennan did the opposite and curled up on the other end of the small couch. They sat with closed eyes for a second before Booth spoke.
"It's BS, all of it," he said decisively. Brennan frowned in question.
"All of what?" she asked, sighing. He sat up.
"This partner building crap," he said, waving a hand in an all-inclusive gesture. "I mean, I already like you, Bones." He tipped his glass at her then took a sip. Brennan smiled at the compliment.
"And I you, Booth. But what's your point?" she asked. She didn't necessarily want to change topic, she just wanted to know. Inquisitive by nature and profession.
"My point is: That I, for whatever reason, continue to like you. So what are we doing here?" He shot her a look that told her he really wanted to know. He wasn't complaining, or angry. Like her, he was just curious. Brennan shrugged.
"I told you it was a stupid idea," she pointed out. Booth nodded.
"Yeah, I suppose you did..." They were silent in consideration for a few second before Booth exclaimed, "Hey! You like me!" Brennan laughed and rolled her eyes, pouring herself another drink.
"Astute observation Agent Booth," she said, giving him a mock salute.
"You like me!" he teased in sing-song, irritating her. "Like, like!" he insinuated.
"Shut up, I do not." She could barely hide the panic or the smile from her voice. The alcohol wasn't helping, either. Booth waggled his finger at her, grinning.
"Do so! You like me!" he taunted. She smacked his arm, then was suddenly calm and dead serious.
"Shut up. I do not. And stop being childish. How old are you, twelve? Go play with Sweets," she bit back. Booth feigned horror.
"Oh, that's too far!" he yelped. Brennan laughed. "And I'm not childish..." He studied his glass, then grinned at her. "I'm drunk!"
Brennan snorted cynically. "You most definitely are."
Brennan stopped as soon as they reached the top of the stairs, suddenly slightly more sober. Booth put a hand on her shoulder for a second before removing it.
"Want to brave it?" he asked. Brennan looked down for only a second.
"Hell no." She didn't move either way. He put on a calming voice. She only found it condescending.
"You have to face your fears, Bones," he said. Despite his teasing, she could hear concern in his voice. She looked at him, suddenly playful.
"Yeah, well, I can't shoot mine," she retorted, smiling sweetly. Booth glared at her.
"Ha, ha. Funny, Bones. Pick on the man who shot the clown." She giggled. "Just go down."
She did as she was told, gripping the railing as tightly as she could. At the bottom of the stairs, she paused, her hand refusing to let go. Booth turned around and patiently removed her hand, keeping hold of it until he opened the door.
"We can keep it open, if you'd prefer?" he offered. Brennan shook her head.
"No, you're right. I have to face my fear," she winced. He could hear the determination in her voice, and closed the door slowly, giving her time to protest. She didn't.
She sat on her mattress carefully, controlling her breathing as best she could. "It's all in my head," she whispered to herself. Booth looked up, smiling encouragingly. She continued to talk herself calm as he pushed his mattress over towards hers.
"It's all in my-" she noticed Booth. "What the hell are you doing?" she asked with a laugh.
"Well, now you won't be scared," he said as he continued to drag his mattress, placing it against hers to form one big bed. Brennan raised her eyebrows.
"And why not?" she asked skeptically.
"Because, silly, I'm here!" He rolled his eyes as if it were something that shouldn't need explaining. Brennan laid down, ignoring his proximity as much as possible and closed her eyes.
"Go to sleep, Booth."
"Come here, Bones," he sulked. Brennan rolled her head to see Booth holding up his blanket and patting the space next to him. She rolled her eyes.
"No." She saw him pout.
"Why not?" he asked, sounding offended and sulky.
"Because you'll grope me," she stated simply, closing her eyes again and rolling over so her back was to him. She heard him gasp exaggeratedly.
"Hey! I will not! Geez, Bones, I thought you had a little respect for me!" he scoffed, feigning offence.
"Go to sleep, Booth," she repeated. He was silent for a few minutes, then he giggled drunkly.
"You said 'grope'!" he exclaimed. He laughed harder and Brennan hit him with a pillow to little effect. He continued to laugh. "My Bones said 'grope'..."
Brennan sat up. "Your Bones?"
Oops, he thought, mentally slapping himself. That was something only he was allowed to hear. Not anymore, Mr. Mouth.
"Um, not 'my' as in the possessive 'my'," he fumbled. To his shock Brennan laughed. He thanked God for inventing alcohol. With any luck, she'd have forgotten that by morning.
"Yeah, Booth. Yours," she laughed again. He stared at her. What was she talking about? As he watched her laugh, though, he decided he didn't really care. It wasn't often he got to see her laugh.
"Bones?" he asked when she finished laughing. He heard a moan of acceptance. "Goodnight," he said quietly, leaning over to give her a slightly-drunk hug. Brennan was a little surprised by his act, but she didn't complain. Booth nuzzled his face into her hair for a little longer than necessary, breathing deeply, before pulling away, smiling. She smiled back, then turned onto her side, hiding her grin.
"Just go to sleep, Booth."