A/N. Hello dear readers.

This chapter is shorter than most, but I really REALLY needed to put something a little lighter up after that last episode. I'm not going to debate my stance or opinion of what the writers did to the show and to the characters, but I won't pretend to be happy about it. I am just going to continue writing.

Disclaimer... I think we all know by now that I don't own anything to do with Bones. Otherwise we sure as fuck wouldn't be dealing with this shit... Anyway, back to it...

As Brennan opened her eyes against the offensive light of day seeping through the generous gap in the hotel curtains, she took a sharp intake of breath and froze. The night before had seemed like a dream as she fought her way from sleep into consciousness, but her current position left no room for doubt that it was no dream. She was backed up against Booth's long, hard body as he spooned her from behind, his heavy right arm draped possessive around her waist as he palmed the feminine curve of her tummy where her t-shirt had ridden up in sleep. Moving only her eyes, she looked down at her own arms, which hugged his left arm as it was threaded beneath the hollow of her neck and angled diagonally across her torso. To her surprise, despite waking and realizing their relative positions, she still clung to his strong forearm, holding it flush against her, and she made no motion to move. She exhaled slowly, wondering what he would think when he, too, woke from a late night of talks and restlessness. She didn't have to wait long.

He was already awake...had been awake for nearly half an hour when he felt her finally starting to stir. When his dark brown eyes popped open thirty minutes earlier, he argued with himself about whether or not he should extract his limbs from her fierce grip or simply wait and see her reaction when she rejoined him in the land of the living. He remembered how she reached for him in the night, turning and touching in tandem, and even, after she had gotten up to use the bathroom in the final dark moments of morning, when she returned she had snuggled back against him, blindly reaching for his arm and pulling it around her soft, warm curves. The extent of his exhaustion was overpowered by the depths of his desire to be close to her, to hold her, touch her, smell her... Once she was settled after her trip to the restroom, he allowed himself to drift back into a satisfied slumber, noting the perfect way her body lined up with his, and how natural it felt to be with her and to listen to her sleepy murmurs. He was thankful that whatever had disturbed her sleep out in the living area of the hotel room hadn't returned and she seemed to have slept soundly.

Flexing his hand against her silky, forbidden skin, he nuzzled his nose and chin against the loose hair that spilled over onto his pillow. "Mornin', Bones." His voice was deep and gravelly.

Following her instinct, she simply pulled his left arm tighter against her. "Good morning." She inhaled deeply and could smell his cologne surrounding her, and the unique scent that was quite simply 'Boothy' filled her senses. "Did you sleep ok?" She didn't move to look at him, she just continued to squint against the bright light filtering into the room and she wondered briefly what time it was.

"Mm-hmm," he rubbed the calloused pads of his fingers against the skin of her abdomen, knowing full well that he should release her, but unable to make his hands actually move. "You?"

After pondering for only a moment, she nodded and rolled her shoulders, allowing her back to press harder into his chest as she threaded her fingers through his. "Yes. I feel surprisingly well-rested."

"Yeah, well," he moved his eyes just enough to see the clock on the dresser at the end of the bedroom, "it's almost two in the afternoon... We should both feel pretty damn rested, I'd say." He dropped his head back down again into the plush pillow and smelled the sweet remnants of her shampoo.

"Wait," she pushed up, instantly regretting the loss of contact but needing to gain control. "It's two o'clock!? I have to call Cam!" She swung her legs over the edge, but froze when Booth's hand darted out and stopped her.

"It's ok, Bones." He pushed up to one arm, suspending his weight on his elbow. "You slept through your phone ringing. I already told her you wouldn't be in today." When she met him with questioning eyes, barely hiding the panic of what her boss must think was going on, he set out to reassure her. "I apologized that we didn't call ahead…. I told her you were helping me last night... And that you stayed awake with me to make sure I didn't relapse..." When her shoulders relaxed at his explanation, he continued. "I told her you'd call later if you wouldn't be in tomorrow." He met her soft smile with one of his own and they lost themselves in a moment, the kind of moment they hadn't shared in more than a year. Taking a deep breath, Booth let himself fall back down against his pillow. "You gonna go back in tomorrow?"

Relaxing, she sat back, adjusting her pillow so she could sit up. "Yes. I will have to prepare everything and make arrangements to be out the week after next. Aren't you going back?" She looked down at him, studying his handsome features.

He swiveled his eyes at her and nodded. "Yeah. Initially I took an extended leave of absence with no return date indicated... But since we're gonna go to the meeting, I need to go in and let Cullen know so he can get everything sorted." Forcing himself to ignore the fact that she was seated at his side in nothing more than his t-shirt and a pair of panties, he looked back at the ceiling. "What d'ya wanna do today? You want to head right home or get something to eat first?"

"Well," Brennan got an impish look on her face. "Since we are a couple of hookers today we could make the most of it..."

He turned back to look at her, startled at her statement as he tried to wrap his mind around what the hell she was talking about. Seeing the delighted look on her face, he knew immediately what she meant. "Bones," he pushed himself up to sit next to her, "we are not hookers..."

"Yes, we are," she contradicted him immediately, not allowing him time to talk. "One who does something is most often indicated by the addition of e-r at the end of the word. Occasionally i-e-r may be added, depending on the form of the root word..."

Booth, in turn, interrupted her squinty rant. "Bones, we are playing hooky, we are not hookers... If anything, we're players. But definitely not hookers."

"I disagree," she raised her nose in the air stubbornly.

"Disagree all you want, Bones," he swung his legs around to the side of the bed, "you're wrong." Chuckling to himself, he mumbled, "feels good telling you that you're wrong sometimes..."

Without missing a beat, Brennan grabbed her pillow and whipped it around, smashing him across his back and laughing at the shocked look he gave her as he started to slide from his perch onto the floor. When he was settled on the rug, leaning against the side of the bed, he joined her in laughing, feeling the tremdous weight of the past couple days dissipate into thin air.

Brennan crawled across the bed and laid on her belly, resting her head on her folded arms, next to where his head fell back against the mattress. When their chuckles quieted down, she turned and rested her cheek on her forearm, so she could look at him.

"Booth?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm really glad that we talked last night... And that we are still partners."

Rolling his neck, he looked into her cerulean blues and smiled softly. "Yeah. Me too, Bones. We're gunna be fine."

"I believe you." And the clarity he saw staring back at him left no room for doubt that she did believe him and that she, too, believed they would be fine. After several more quiet moments, she pushed up from where she was resting and crawled off her side of the bed. "I'm going to go take a shower, Booth. Do you want to order room service? It's included with the room..."

He grinned. "Nope," he arched an eyebrow when she looked surprised. Standing up, he straightened his shirt, and tilted his head. "There's a kick-ass pizza joint down the boardwalk just a little ways. I wanna take you there." When she looked skeptical, he urged her to agree. "This place has been here for years, Bones. It's like a staple on the boards." Seeing that she still wasn't completely convinced, he added, "they have eggplant parmigiana that even I like..."

Her eyes lit up at the idea of the meal and she nodded. "Ok. I'll be ready in about 20 minutes."

B/B/B/B

The next week and a half passed quickly and relatively uneventful. Booth had been called in for a routine stake-out job that lasted a total of five nights and took him out of the rotation for any new homicide cases that opened up. He had been forced to appoint Charlie to work with Clark when a relatively straight-forward situation arose and Brennan refused to work with the Junior Agent. The substitute team did well, and pretty much everyone left Brennan alone to work in Limbo and draft up a plan for her interns for while she was out of the lab for a week.

Needing Booth's signature on a couple of forms that Brennan wanted to finalize before leaving town, she went over to the Hoover in search of her partner. When she arrived at his office, she found Cullen in the guest chair waiting for Booth to return from the snack lounge.

"Well, he hasn't stopped for lunch," Cullen chuckled, "he thought he was going to starve to death."

Brennan smiled at the Deputy Director, shaking her head at Booth's constant need to eat before he 'starves to death.' "I've tried to teach him, that the likelihood of starving to death is highly doubtful, but he doesn't listen." She placed a file on his desk and moved to leave. "I didn't mean to interrupt. I just needed Booth's signature on those documents."

Just as Cullen was rising from his seat to stop the anthropologist from leaving, Booth rounded the corner into his office, nearly plowing his partner over. "Hey, Bones!" His smile spread as he reached out to stabilize her from falling backwards from his invasion into her personal space. "Sorry 'bout that." When she was firmly on both feet, he sidestepped around her, moving towards his desk. "What's up?"

"Well, as I was saying to Director Cullen, I didn't mean to interrupt your meeting. I was just hoping to complete some of our outstanding files before the convention."

"Oh, you're not interrupting, Dr. Brennan," Cullen spoke up. "I just stopped in to talk to Booth about next week's conference. It's actually good that you stopped in when you did." He motioned to the chair beside him, inviting her to sit. "The reservations have been arranged and as you requested, we've booked you adjoining rooms," he addressed each partner in turn. "You will have to register and pick up your welcome packets in the Red Maple ballroom tonight when you arrive." He handed Booth the entrance passes they would need. "The meetings and all the other events will start tomorrow morning." He smiled at Brennan and caught the slightest bit of reluctance behind her forced pleasantness. Wanting to hurry through this little huddle, he cleared his throat. "Well," he pushed up. "The bus will leave promptly at 4:00, so don't be late."

"Bus?" Booth's brow wrinkled in response.

"Wait, what bus?" Brennan's surprise was obvious.

"Whoa," Booth extended his hands and sat back in his office chair, clearly displeased with his boss's comment.

Brennan's brows raised, her brilliant mind switching modes instantaneously. "Horse!" She exclaimed it proudly, a smile broadening across her face, only to fade when she saw Booth's look of confusion as he narrowed his eyes in her direction. "You remember... The word game..." she started to explain, but was cut off with a sharp shake of his head.

"Bones, stop." He didn't want to get distracted, and memories of that particular session with Sweets only served as fuel for the burning desire he felt for his partner smoldering just beneath the surface... It was a feeling he fought on a daily basis, and even more since his breakup with Hannah and the evening he spent with Brennan pressed against him in Atlantic City. Turning his attention back on Cullen, he started to argue his point. "Sir, we are not taking a bus."

"Booth, you received the literature... And the memos... All the attendees are going on the bus. It's meant to serve as bonding time, a chance to get to know one another." Cullen knew he was fighting an uphill battle, but had to at least try.

"I don't need to get to know other people," Brennan offered. "It is my understanding that the purpose of this conference is so Booth and I will develop a better working relationship," she deadpanned her eyes, "which is completely unnecessary, I might add." She sat back and folded her arms across her chest. "Besides I don't work for you, so you cannot order me to take group transportation."

"What if Parker needs me?" Booth set his jaw firmly. "What if I need to get back to my family in a hurry? Or what if Bones has an emergency come up over at the Jeffersonian? I need to be able to drive her back..." He silently prayed that his independent partner wouldn't dispute the necessity that 'he' be available to drive her home.

Picking up on Booth's extreme displeasure at the idea of giving up his almost manic-like control of driving, Brennan simply nodded in agreement and added to the argument. "If there is a grisly murder that occurs during this next week, my expertise will most likely be required to determine cause of death and I will need to return immediately. Waiting on public transportation to be arranged is a waste of my time and could jeopardize the end results of the case."

"You know how she hates it when a crime scene isn't processed correctly," Booth reasoned to the Deputy Director. "And if it's a gruesome case or particularly difficult, you wouldn't want one of her squinterns handling evidence, would you? I mean," he huffed in frustration more than in humor, "can you imagine Daisy Wick on the witness stand in front of a twelve-panel-jury explaining why she was the one collecting evidence instead of her mentor, the world-renowned-Doctor-Temperance-Brennan? Her only reason being the lame-ass excuse that Dr. Brennan was not able to be recalled from an FBI convention in time to process the remains..."

Brennan instantly and expertly volleyed the conversation, speaking to Cullen's sense of duty. "You wouldn't want one of my unsupervised students handling a case that you would have to sign-off on, would you Director?" She shrugged over-dramatically, her acting skills no better than the first time she and Booth went undercover. "Of course, you could be treating this as an opportunity to replace me with a person of lesser skills and fewer college degrees in a poorly planned attempt to save the government some money... In which case," she looked at her partner and heaved a big stage-sized-sigh, "it won't matter if we are successful at the retreat or not, Booth... The FBI wishes to replace me..."

Booth could barely contain the smirk at what he would later refer to as her shitty acting skills, but gave her mental kudos for her effort. With a determined look, he painted on his best poker-face. "I won't work with another Squint." His deep brown eyes met Cullen's already-resigned gaze. "Bones is the only Forensic Anthropologist for me." He felt his face heat up at the double-entendre, but managed to push through. "If that's your plan, Sir, good luck. My recommendation would be to team Charlie with Wendell, but, Wendell is still pretty green... Their solve rate'll be considerably less than ours, even on one of our worst months..."

"Oh," Brennan feigned helpfulness, "I would suggest that you contract Dr. Edison... He already has a Doctorate, but only in Human Anthropology, not in Forensic Anthropology. His true passion lies in ancient civilizations, but he may stick with it long enough to solve a few cases for you before you retire, Sir. But as soon as Mr. Bray has the financial resources to complete the program and obtain his Doctorate, you should look into replacing Clark..."

"Enough," Cullen pushed to his feet, shaking his head at the partners. He knew they would balk, and he assumed they would stick together, but to spin such a tale of extravagance was unexpected. "Go ahead and drive your damn selves, then. Just make sure you're there no later than eight-thirty for check-in. Otherwise you will need to just get your room keys from the hotel reception and check in for the conference in the morning." He spun on his heel, anxious to hide his grin. Wanting to get the last word as he left the office, he pointed to Brennan without looking at her. "You still can't have a gun!" His words were stern, his humor well hidden.

"Oh, but I have..."

"Shut up, Bones." His eyes swiveled to Cullen where his boss had stopped in his tracks and turned to look at the defiant doctor. "No gun, Sir. I'm her gun..." He wanted to deflect from the fact that, despite being turned down for a gun, twice, his partner was armed on the job, (not to mention that she was often anxious to shoot someone...) "She's got me..."

Recognizing when he was beat, and knowing full well that his best agent's partner carried a gun regardless of the two declined applications filed with Booth and himself, he shook his head. "Yeah... That's what I thought..."

After he was sure Cullen was out of earshot, Booth leaned forward towards Brennan. "You can't just go and tell my boss that you're packing heat, Bones. He turned down your appeal application!"

"Well, you turned down my initial application and you know I carry a gun..."

"Well that's different," he countered without justification.

Letting a conspiratory smile spread across her lips, she chuckled, changing the subject. "We were very good, Booth. Very convincing..."

Booth knew better; he knew that Cullen saw through their argument against the bus and he surmised that his boss was planning to allow them to drive themselves before the topic even arose. He didn't want to spoil Brennan's fun however, because he loved seeing the bright look on her face. "Yeah, Bones, we were good. Your acting is getting much better!" He flopped back in his chair, raising his arms and tucking them behind his head. "You must be practicing."

"Well," she tilted her head. "Practice makes perfect, and I like to do things as perfectly as possible."

He chuckled, "I know y'do, Bones." He pushed the folder back her way and shifted in his seat. "So, ah, you want me to come by your place and pick you up, say 'round four o'clock? We can grab some grub before hitting the road?"

Pausing only a split second to let the colloquialisms process, her brain translated Booth's request into actual English and she nodded. "Yes, that would be acceptable." She collected the folder from the edge of the desk and stood. "Thank you for signing these, I wanted to get as much completed as possible before we left."

"Yeah, no problem, Bones." His eyes couldn't help but twinkle when he looked at her, and he hoped that she couldn't read his real emotions. Temperance Brennan had never been a people-reader, as such, but over the years she had certainly become more familiar with his facial expressions, and able to decipher what he was thinking more times than she realized.

When she reached the door, she glanced back. "I'm glad we don't have to ride with everyone else, Booth. You know how I dislike being cramped in tight places with people I don't know well."

His gaze softened. He understood her anxiety about being in tight places. Ever since she and Hodgins had been buried alive, she avoided circumstances that made her feel closed-in or claustrophobic. He thought about their night in Atlantic City and the way she curled up against him, clinging to him while denying her need to cuddle... And the way he, too, refused to admit to his desire to wrap himself around her for as long as she'd let him. He was grateful knowing they would have some time alone before being hurled into the midst of a conference full of competitive and arrogant agents. "I know, Bones. I'm glad too." He sat forward, resting his forearms on his desk. "I'll see you in a couple hours, Bones."

Postscript A/N.

Ahhh poor Cullen, getting tag-teamed by our favorite partners... The guy never stood a chance! But at least he had a vague idea of what he was getting into when he started the conversation. Lol

Looking forward to hearing from you. Readership seems to be down quite a bit, so I want you to know that I really appreciate the feedback you all provide in your reviews. They help me find ways to be a better writer... Or at least I hope I'm getting better!

peace & love, my friends,

~jazzy