Hey all, thanks again for all the kindhearted reviews and favourites, ect.
I decided to throw a bit of Charlie in here. Love that boy, and we never get to see much of him. So, sharing the Charlie Love.

Chapter 4 – Booth POV

Four days. Ninety six hours. Damn, ninety six hours and only 17 hours of sleep. Damn brain not switching off. Damn heated arguments with a scantily towel clad Anthropologist.

Yeah, damn Temperance Brennan.

I groaned and put my head in my hands, what this woman does to me is torture. Pure torture.

How could I have not picked up on the things she was saying, on the signs. I was supposed to know her. At least I thought I did. Man, was I wrong. All the indications were there. The late night dinners running well into overtime - ending up in an invitations to stay the night (in the guest bedroom of course) just to be near, the lingering glances, the now not-so-subtle flirting and innuendos. How could I have not seen that? Temperance Brennan never did anything with subtlety.

'I'm sick of waiting for you to man it up, Seeley...'

Those words hit like a ton of bricks. I didn't know what to say, instead just looked and stared at her retreating to her bedroom and locking herself in. If I had any more anger left in me, I would have shouted after her that Seeley Booth was ALL man, through and through. She probably would have asked me to prove it. An all too temptating thought fleeting through. No, it wouldn't have been right. Seeley Booth may be all man, but he's a gentleman too.

Had she even noticed that she still had that towel wrapped around her? Maybe she was just too caught up in the argument and her emotions to notice. Maybe she wanted to frustrate the hell out of him. Well, it worked. I groaned again, my fist hitting the desk maybe a little more forcefully than necessary.

"You okay in there man?"

Damn, Charlie. Nosy little prick.

"Sorry, yeah, just..."

He smirked "Trouble in paradise?"

"Charlie..."

"Yeah yeah, I know." Smug little weazle sat himself down infront of my desk. "You're just partners. We all know the spiel."

"There's no spiel!"

"Oh, there's a spiel." Charlie sighed. When Booth was annoyed or frustrated, he was stubborn. "You know, Hottie McDoctorate has you wrapped around her little finger."

Inwards, I chuckled a bit at the nickname. The feminist in Bones would protest the living daylights out of that one.

"Seriosuly, have a little respect Charlie."

He held is hands up in defence.

"Hey, I have just as much respect for her as the next guy. But you gotta admit man, she's a babe."

"And for the record, she does not have me wrapped around her little finger."

"Say what you say, Booth. But she says jump, you say where, when and how high?"