DISCLAIMER: Notice the common denominator in all my fics. Something to do with…failing miserably…to own Bones. Oh, well.

Author's note: Oh em gee, I'm heading into Est. Relationship Land. Not really comfortable here, so this is The Very Last Chapter. Hope you like, and try not to cringe. Also, dishevelry. Not a word, apparently. But I like it heaps.

Temperance Brennan strode down the corridor of the FBI Building.

She had a purpose, and nothing was going to stop her.

She was going to fulfil that calling, that need inside of her, to the upmost of her ability.

Temperance Brennan was making her very first booty call.

And trying very hard not to think about it in quite that way.

She could give into her body's biological urges. She could admit that sometimes, she could allow herself to be ruled by the heart, and not the head.

Plus, really, this was all Booth's fault.

This morning she'd been talking to him on her office phone, discussing some case notes that were late making it onto Cullen's desk, and she'd suddenly, through no fault of her own, been distracted by his voice.

She'd never really taken in the fact that it was so deep, and smooth, before. She'd sat there, not comprehending the words Booth was saying but making agreeable noises anyway, when he'd suddenly stopped, and accused her of being preoccupied by something else.

She had simply agreed, not really surprised he'd noticed.

He seemed to have…radar, where she was concerned. He picked up the fluctuations in her mood, and had even guessed with remarkable accuracy what she was thinking on numerous occasions.

Even through phone lines, emails and when she wasn't actually speaking.

But then again, she reasoned, she could read him pretty well, herself.

Especially lately. Since they'd decided to try a relationship, it was becoming an addiction for her- given the fact she now had extra access to him, to try to understand more fully what made him tick.

So far, she'd concluded the sight of her in just about any article of clothing she owned turned him on, the fact she started her day at five-thirty a.m. was an issue best resolved by morning sex, and, if he kept walking around her apartment with his shirt half-undone she'd have to impose a time-frame in which such dishevelry could occur, if only for her own sanity's sake.

She figured she was doing pretty well, considering the way she had to constantly school her mind to keep to the topic at hand when she was with him, and when the topic at hand was sex, well, her mind simply didn't figure into that scenario.

And she kept getting the words he whispered to her in her bed, in the dark, stuck in her head, too. She couldn't seem to drown them out, any more than she could forget the timbre of his voice when he'd said them or the way he'd looked at her, so intense she almost had the thought to run, get out now. Don't succumb to this.

The only reason she going to see him now was because his words, his touch, were on constant replay in her brain. And the fact that she wouldn't, couldn't run from Booth. He was her anchor, her sanctuary, her home. He was just…Booth.

She came to stand in his office doorway, leaning against the door in what she hoped was a seductive manner.

She cleared her throat, a little nervously, and Booth looked up from his paperwork.

"Hey. Whatcha doin' here, Bones?"

She moved into the room, and closed the door behind her, staring at him.

Then she balked.

This was Booth. This was her friend. Yes, he tended made her pulse do odd things on a regular basis and somehow managed to make her forget her own name when his mouth was on hers.

But he was hers. She was his. He knew her, and that made it all the more difficult to face him and admit that all she'd been able to think about today was the way she felt, the way he felt under her hands, when he was kissing her.

"I just wanted to check in, you know. See how you were doing." She hedged.

Damned if she was going to tell him the actual reason. She'd spend the next week gritting her teeth and trying not to hit him when he brought it up. Over, and over. And over.

Until she did actually hit him, or he did something she'd constantly rub in his face for a few days. Whichever came first.

"Check in."

He gave her a slow going over, which served only to make her breathing hitch and have her glaring at him simultaneously.

"I can check in with you if I want."

Maybe that was too defiant. He was good with defiance. And anger. Also, sorrow, come to think of it. Damn the man, he was good with emotions and her, period.

"Sure you can, Bones. But, isn't the phone a little easier?"

He was still watching her. Waiting to see if she'd crack.

Well, he had another think coming, there.

Just because she'd been unable to concentrate at work, and had driven to the FBI building for no rational reason at all, just that she'd wanted, no, needed to see him, didn't mean she was going to actually tell him this.

Temperance Brennan was nobody's fool.

She lifted her chin. "My cell phone's broken."

In response, he slid his chair back.

Walked, no, stalked slowly towards her, the feral walk of large felines on the prowl, which did nothing for her breathing.

She backed towards the door, forgetting she'd closed it with the intention of jumping him as soon as they were done with preliminary pleasantries.

She hit the door, and he came to stand in front of her.

He was tall. She knew this. She'd known this for quite some time, now. Why was she suddenly so aware of it?

"Bones?"

"Booth?" Her voice came out huskier than usual. She tried to clear her throat quietly, noted Boot's amused stare, and glared at him, instead.

He slid his hands along her waist, under her unbuttoned jacket, and she met his gaze, her lips slightly parted, instantly forgetting to be annoyed.

She stared at him, fascinated, as the colour of his eyes seemed to darken.
His hands slid slowly up her sides, traced lightly along the side of her breasts, and then ran up to her shoulders.

She held her breath as he slipped off her jacket, gave her that heart-stopping, wicked grin, and…backed away, digging in her jacket pocket.

She just watched, trying re-start her brain. What was he…oh. Damn.

He pulled out her cell phone, flipped it open, and punched a few buttons.

Seconds later, his office phone began to ring.

He raised his brows at her, flipping the phone shut, tossing it to her.

"Your cell's broken, huh?"

She sighed. Round one to Booth.

"It must have gotten fixed…somehow."

He just looked at her sorrowfully.

"It must have gotten fixed, somehow? Jeez, Bones, that was probably the worst explanation of anything, ever."

She glared at him. "Well, I would have come up with a better one if you hadn't addled my brain."

"Addled, Bones?" He sounded casual, but he was doing that ridiculous I'm the man grin at her, which made her want both to laugh, and kill him. Simultaneously.

She didn't reply. No way was she going to give him the satisfaction.

He sighed, and looked at her, keenly.

"We are meant to be professional, here, Bones. We talked about this. We still have a job to do."

"I know we do, Booth."

She felt bad, now.

What right did she have coming here for what Angela referred to as a booty call, when there were people out there that needed the help that she could give, that Booth could give? When there were victims, and families of victims, waiting for her to give a name and a cause of death?

She looked at him, chastened. "I'm sorry, Booth. I did come here just to see you. I was just…thinking about things, and then I couldn't stop thinking about them, and before I knew it, I was here."

He looked at her, and smiled, graciously choosing not to chasten her.

"Sometimes the heart overrules the head, Bones. You know that. It's an inevitable fact of life."

She nodded, feeling a little better.

"It is. But it can be prevented. This won't happen again, Booth. I promise."

He looked a little concerned.

"Well, maybe it can happen again. I mean, given the fact all I've been able to think about today is kissing you, it's probably a good thing you got to me first."

Then he grinned at her, trying the charm smile.

She stared at him. "You rat bastard!"

He sighed. "Ah, the years may pass, but the sentiment remains the same."

"You've been just as distracted as I have!"

He shrugged. "Well, I'm a hot-blooded American male who happens to be seeing this girl who makes my heart stop every time she looks at me. What's your excuse?"

"If I made your heart stop every time I looked at you you'd be dead, Booth."

He glared at her. "Well, I figure you're going to be the death of me sooner or later, why not express that in a figure of speech?"

"Hey, you're the one that insists on driving up on two wheels half the time. How do you know you're not going to kill me?"

He threw up his hands.

"I don't know, Bones. Why do you think I'm going to kill you with the car and not strangle you with my bare hands?"

They glared at each other, then he shook his head and stepped back a little, and she broke into a rueful half-laugh.

"I think we're going to kill each other. That or drive each other insane."

"I'll take insane for two hundred."

She looked at him.

"Me, too."

His gaze drifted to her mouth, and her heat beat sped up a little more.

So, did you hear the part about me saying all I can think about is kissing you?"

She stared at him. "Yeah, but now I've seen you, I feel like I can wait until tonight. What about you?"

He stared back at her, trying not to look surprised.

"Really?"

No. She wanted to rip open his shirt with her teeth. Wanted to nip that spot on his collarbone that had made him groan the last time she'd done it.

But she wasn't going to let him get away with making her feel guilty for wanting him. She was going to wait until tonight if it killed her. She grabbed her jacket out of his hands before he had a chance to try anything.

"Yeah. I'll see you tonight Booth. Have fun being professional, and all."

He nodded, getting it.

"I will. And Bones? Next time I'll try taking the booty call first, and being a smartass later."

She smirked at him over her shoulder as she left.

"You're learning, Booth."

BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBB

That evening saw her lounging on her couch, just relaxing. Well, not completely. She was still finishing up some case notes.

Booth hadn't gotten to her that badly.

Although her new television was on. And she kept thinking that highly improbable House show Booth liked was on soon. And that the patient advertised last week had looked fairly interesting. As well as quite humorous.

Damn it. He really had gotten to her that badly.

Her cell phone rang, and she picked it up, smirking at the caller ID.

Booth.

Get naked. Now. She guessed.

Or, Bones, can you pick up my dry cleaning?

Maybe not.

The last time he'd suggested it she'd replied she'd have to weigh her natural inculcation against doing menial tasks against her emotional desire to please someone she was having sexual relations with, and could she have a day or so to think about it?

He'd then changed the subject. Within three and a half seconds.

"Hey, Bones."

He sounded funny. Something was wrong.

"What's wrong?"

"Are you-huh? What? Nothing's wrong."

"Yes, there is," she insisted. "You sound odd."

Pause. Then a heartfelt sigh.

"You know, Bones. I try to set the mood, and you ruin my sexually charged contemplative thought process by thinking there's something wrong with me."

It was her turn to pause. "What?"

"I was going to ask you if you were as desperate as I was. Desperate in the usual, I really want to see you naked right now kind of way. But, no. Don't worry. I'll be there soon, and we'll try to salvage the evening somehow."

Usually she would have objected to this incorrect reasoning that she'd somehow ruined a mood, but she could hear the smile in his voice. And, she'd been right on the first guess, pretty much.

"Somehow? And didn't you want to hear my answer?"

"What was your answer?"

She shrugged, stretching a little on the couch. "Not really that desperate, after I ruined the mood and all."

She could have heard the groan if she'd been on one side of the room, and her cell on the other. Covered in pillows. Under the couch.

"Bones, remember the 'humouring your partner, just to be nice', discussion we had?"

"Oh. As opposed to the 'humouring your partner to be nice when she makes her first booty call' discussion we should be having?" She retorted, annoyed.

Pause. "That was your first booty call?"

She winced, immediately feeling stupid. "No."

"That was your first booty call." He stated. "Temperance, I'm so honoured."

"Hey, you cannot say that like it's a significant achievement. It just…I never…Shut up, Booth."

You never what, Bones." He sounded amused, now. She would have wished, if she believed in wishes, to God, if she believed in God, that she'd never said anything. Ever.

But since that option wasn't available to her, she just cursed Booth and his making her feel far too much instead.

"I never felt like I had to, before."

"You don't have to with me, Bones. I don't expect stuff like that."

"No. I never felt like I had to. Before."

She waited for it. The start of the teasing. You can't resist me. I'm the man. It's my special brand of Seeley charm that's got you there, Bones.

She'd forgotten it was Booth. She'd forgotten he knew just how to get to her.

"Well, Bones, you know what? I think you just found the mood again. I think you found the mood for the next several nights, in fact."

That was good. She benefited from that.

"Think I'm a little in love here, Bones."

She smiled. "I'm glad you managed to locate the mood again, Booth."

"Come on, Bones. Admit it."

'No."

"You love me."

"You have no evidence to support that."

"You love me. My gut knows all."

"Your gut is ineligible to testify on a witness stand."

"Mmm. But my gut, is really, really good at interrogation."

"Your gut-"

"-Remember that interrogation you were part of last week? Where you eventually disclosed your die-hard love of my numerous attractive ties?"

She remembered. He'd refused to let her out of bed until she'd divulged she liked his ties. The methods of persuasion he'd used…well. Best not to encourage that sort of behaviour on a regular basis. She'd end up admitting all sorts of things, just to keep him touching her.

"That-that interrogation did not follow correct procedural outlines."

"Yeah, biting would probably go a bit above and beyond under normal circumstances. But I'll do it, Bones-"

"-Fine! I have a deep seated attraction to you…" She took a deep breath.

"… That my gut is telling me is love."

He sighed, satisfied. "I knew you'd see things my way."

She held the phone in front of her and glared at it.

"-Bones?"

She brought it back to her ear.

"Bring food."

Then disconnected.

The phone immediately rang again. She picked up, trying to stop an involuntary grin forming.

"What?"

"We never did determine how we were gonna salvage the evening."

"Get food. That's a start."

He made a growling noise. "I have food, Bones. Does Chinese suit you, your highness?"

"Yes." She stifled a laugh. Aggravating Booth was so easy, once you knew how to…what was the phrase?

Push his buttons.

Then the thought struck her he'd be here soon, and she could finally, finally, push his actual buttons.

"Uhm. So ideas for salvaging?" Her voice sounded a little breathless.

Booth chucked. "Yeah. Well, I could knock on your door…"

"And…" She prompted, closing her eyes.

"I could…well, Bones, why don't you open your door and find out?"

She opened her eyes, frowning.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

She disconnected and went to open the door.

Booth stood there, food in one hand, phone in the other.

He flipped it shut, staring at her, then carefully set the food on the ground.

She frowned at him, confused.

"Booth, what are you doing? Come in."

He took a breath, then gave her a half smile, his eyes suddenly dark.

"Uh-uh."

He reached out, grabbed her wrist and pulled her into him.

She closed her eyes, expecting to fall headlong into chaos, into dizziness and weakness and strength.

He only kissed her gently on the mouth, then tangled his hands in her hair, easing back to look at her.

"Hey, you."

She smiled, and laid a hand on his cheek. "Hey."

They looked at each other, just enjoying being together, being close.

Then Booth smiled at her.

"So. I brought food."

On hand left her hair, and went trailing down her spine.

She half closed her eyes at the sensation, then tapped his chest.

"I'm not hungry anymore. Well, not for Chinese, anyway."

Booth laughed, then, at last, kissed her deeply, walking her back into her apartment, leaving the food, and her rational mind, outside.

His hands worked their way under her shirt, and it occurred to her she was wearing too many clothes.

She pulled back a little to yank her shirt off, then fused her mouth back to his, wondering how she'd ever lived without the comfort of being in his arms, when it seemed like it was all she'd ever known.

"I'd say we salvaged the evening pretty well, don't you think?" He panted, in between kisses.

She dragged her mind back from its burial under sensation, touch, and it's current pre-occupation with the feel of Booth's shirt against the bare skin of her stomach.

"-Uhm. Evening salvaged. Check."

Author's note. Oh. God. Will never do that again, until they do it, a thousand times better, on the show. That was so hard! Especially trying to figure out if Brennan would actually pick up Booth's drycleaning for him- I'm actually scared by how hard that was. :D Will stick to pre-BB est rel. from now on, I think. Thanks for reading and reviewing- Muchos Gracias x A Helluva Lot.