Warning, Contains Mature Sexual Content


7. Following Victor Ligrano


"He's headed west on I-70, don't loose the son of a bitch, I want to know where he goes and who he meets." Booth barked, one hand on the wheel, the other hand holding his cell phone to his ear.

"The motel clerk said he checked in yesterday afternoon. He had to be following Sully, but by the time he got to the cabin, the Sheriff had already found him and the kilo of cocaine. Jamie and Harold showed no sign of struggle, no defensive wounds, they were both knocked unconscious and shot at close range, if he was the killer, I should be dead too."

Booth nodded, looking grim. "We need to find out who this Joker is, he may lead us to the murderer."

After Bones had spotted the man who ransacked her apartment at the motel, it only took Booth seconds to act. They threw their belongings in the back seat of the car and sped out of the parking lot in pursuit.

His cell phone rang again. "Yeah... Thanks, don't let him out of your sight, 24 hour surveillance, you got that?" Bones could clearly see the gears turning in Booth's head.

"His name is Victor Ligrano, according to his file he's small time, check fraud, illegal gambling and selling off car parts from stolen vehicles."

"He must feel overwhelmed and alarmed at the situation he is in. Three people are dead, this isn't about car parts."

"Maybe. He's lost out on the drugs, but there's still the money. He's looking for it and acting desperate. If he isn't contacted or he doesn't make a move, we'll pay him a visit." Booth knew the only charges they could pin on him was breaking and entering and assault, neither of which would lead to the answers they were looking for. "In the meantime, I have to go back to the Hoover Building and file a report."

"Yes, of course. I also have work to do at the Jeffersonian, and my apartment still needs to be put back together."

He looked at her pensively. "Bones, I… uh, I feel like I need to say something… you know, about us, about what's happened between us. I'm happy about it, I mean really happy, but I need to know you are too."

"I am, and I will be even happier when we can be together without this case dictating our priorities."

"I'm sorry about Sully. I know he meant something to you and it is a great tragedy that he took his own life."

She studied him, looking for a hint of an ulterior motive and realized he rarely played her in this manner. "It hurts, knowing the pain he dealt with, made him feel he had nothing to live for and drove him to take his own life. When I saw him, it was if the man I knew was already gone. I feel a great deal of regret knowing he is dead, and although I know it's not logical, I also feel a great deal of guilt for not caring more about him." Her confession caused her eyes to puddle with emotion.

Booth took her hand in his, and like countless times before, he held it in friendship and support. "You didn't drive him to kill himself, he made his own choices long before he came back. We all feel guilt when we can't return someones affection, but if he truly loved you, he would never have left you."

"Your version of the truth doesn't always make me feel better, but your capacity for trying, does." She said appreciatively.

"Bones, there's one more thing... I've been thinking about. If the Bureau or the Jeffersonian find out that we're... you know... involved they may try to split us up."

She nodded in agreement. "You're absolutely right. We need to remember to be discreet and professional." Her tone was crisp and matter of fact.


Brennan returned to the Jeffersonian to deal with the stacks of paperwork on her desk and an in box of unanswered emails. In addition, she took time to go over the evidence reports on the two murder victims, searching for anomalies and looking for any clues that might help their investigation. Cam and Angela eventually coaxed her into going with them for an early dinner, the topic of conversation revolved around Sully's shocking suicide, and comprehending how he had become involved in drugs and murder.

Driving back to her apartment, she knew she was being followed, and once parked in front of her house, with gun in hand she confronted the lone male in the car, only to discover he was an FBI agent, sent by Booth to watch over her. Next began the arduous task of cleaning up her apartment and after salvaging items acquired on her travels and sweeping aside broken shards of glass she finally allowed herself to sit down and exchange a few text messages with Booth. A telephone call seemed too intimate and she wanted to prove to herself that she could compartmentalize this part of her life. She chastised herself for obsessively thinking about him, but eventually gave in to it, re-enacting some of the more enjoyable moments in her mind, before falling asleep.

It had been close to forty-eight hours since he had any face time with his agents or superiors and Booth knew, his head had to come out of the clouds, and he had better get his act together unless he wanted it served on a platter. He had returned to his office at the Hoover building and worked into the early evening studying the FBI forensics reports, the dossier on Victor Ligrano and his known accomplices, and finishing his own progress report on the case.

He checked in with the surveillance team, where he learned Ligrano was back in the neighborhood of the Bridge Street Motel, apparently laying low in an adjacent building. As directed the agent, who he had assigned to follow Brennan called him and when he learned she had pulled her gun on him, he had mixed feelings, one of which was amusement. On his way home, he stopped to meet with a member of the Bureau's drug task force and to share information on Tim Sullivan's suicide. He learned there had been doubts about Sully's competency. After his partner had been killed and he had barely passed the subsequent psych review. After a beer, he went home, and found that text messaging with Bones was a poor substitute for a conversation, but he knew they needed to keep some distance between them, at least for one night.


"Brennan" She answered.

"I just pulled into the parking lot outside the south entryway. My morning briefings are done and I thought I'd check in with you and the squints before heading out to see what Ligrano is doing."

Bones felt the synapses in her brain sending messages to various parts of her body upon hearing his voice. "You need me to go with you?"

"Yes and no, he hasn't made a move, I think we should bide our time." He hesitated for a moment, "Listen Bones, I'm having a hard time not thinking about you... about us" he admitted.

"We have to be professionals. We can't succumb to primal base urges, it's what distinguishes us from other species, the ability to reason, to make choices and to analyze." She was unwavering.

"If you say so." He tried not to sound too grumpy.

There was a pause, followed by an urgent tone in her voice. "There is something I want you to see, meet me inside?"

"All right." He answered her feeling slightly confused when she abruptly hung up on him.

He used his key card on the secured entryway and expected to see Bones walking down the corridor, instead he was surprised to see her head pop out of a doorway.

"Booth, over here! Now!" She demanded whispering and beckoning to him.

When he came closer, she tugged on his arm pulling him into a storage closet. She twirled around and with her back to the door, she deftly turned the latch, essentially locking out the rest of the Jeffersonian.

His eyes lit up with laughter as she behaved like a naughty child. She put her finger to her lips "Sshhhh! We have to be quiet!" she whispered reaching out for his hand. When he extended it, she yanked him towards her and wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing him into a kiss and forcing herself against his body. He responded to her immediately and holding her close, he kissed her back until she was breathless and gasping for air.

"Booth" she stuttered. "I can't wait. I… I need you…" Her hands worked quickly, unbuckling, unzipping and dragging his pants and boxers down, releasing him from the confines of his trousers, stroking, fingering and pulling until he groaned with desire.

Leaning over her, he hiked her skirt up and lifted one leg, his arm under her knee, his hand braced against the door. With his other hand, he reached down to pull the crotch of her panties aside and was startled to find only her own smooth bare skin, wet and ready.

"You really are wicked" he muttered, running his fingers over her.

"You taught me, you have to be bad to be good" Her voice was thick with desire.

He continued his exploration of her and knew he found the spot he was searching for, when he lightly rolled it with his finger tip like a small marble and her body pulsated in response. When she could take no more, she forced him to let her leg down and bunched her skirt up around her waist. Intuitively and with one quick movement he lifted her up. "Wrap your legs around me!" he hissed and she complied. He bent his knees slightly, pinned her against the door and eased into her. She balanced herself by leaning back and gripping his shoulders.

"Okay, baby, hold on!" he ordered.

"Booth!" she panted when he tipped her body into his, the contact caused them both to erupt, every thrust extracting the pleasure out of them and leaving their bodies heaving. A minute later, they both fought to breathe normally.

"Bones, you're killing me!" he groaned. "I'm not sure I can walk out of here, I may have to crawl."

"Your quadriceps are very impressive, you have excellent stamina. It's quite an asset!" She mumbled.

He silenced her with a series of gentle kisses and slowly let her down. When her legs buckled under her, he held her up and she thanked him laughing giddily.

"Here, use this." He handed her his pocket handkerchief which she gratefully accepted.

He pulled his pants up and tucked his shirt back in, zipping and re-buckling himself together.

"Booth, you leave first. I'll follow you out in a couple of minutes."

He kissed her on the forehead and hugged her to him. "I think you're absolutely nuts," he chuckled "but I mean that in a good way."

He traded places with her and slowly opened the door, peeking out and looking both ways, praying he wouldn't run into an inquiring squint on his way out.

Neither Angela or Zach saw Booth enter the building, but both of them saw him leave. They noticed an unusually frosty demeanor between he and Dr. Brennan as they looked for signs that something was amiss. They watched him leave first, and then watched Brennan go in a separate direction, hardly an acknowledgment between them and their body language exhibiting tension. As the two of them disappeared from view, Zach turned to Angela and said "I told you so."


Victor Ligrano may have been a small time crook and in over his head, but he wasn't a total idiot. He knew the why the feds were following him and that was fine with him as long as the men he had borrowed the $50k from kept their distance. They'd be less inclined to wack him with the FBI watching. He knew, if he didn't figure out what happened to that money, he had some new friends to make a deal with.

Victor racked his brain, trying to figure out where the briefcase of money had gone to. He knew that Sully and Jamie had double crossed both he and Harold Gerber. Gerber was a loose cannon and he figured he had killed Jamie, for leaving him and to get the drugs and money back.

When he found Gerber, dead in that crappy apartment, no stash and no money, he knew he had to find Sully. The word on the street was Sully was still using and selling off little bits of the stash to keep his head above water. When he tracked him down to the Bridge Street Motel, he had found the Scientist broad's address, and as luck would have it, wadded up in the trash, a note from Jamie telling Sully she'd meet him at the cabin.

He had overheard Sully bragging about his grandparents cabin on the lake and how great it was. Victor did a little checking around and discovered where it was. He drove there expecting to find and confront Sully, but instead found the Sheriff and County M.E. hauling his body away and the briefcase full of coke in the Sheriff's possession.

He got the hell out of there, muttering to himself, "Where is the money?"