And after a little bit of a break, I'm back! Part of this fanfic is a bit of a PSA (public service announcement) about swimming. Swimming is taken for granted, but is actually a REALLY great exercise for you! Try it! You WON'T be disappointed.

I think I may be swallowing a little too much chlorine. Anyways, enjoy!

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CLANG! Hiss-hiss-hiss... Fwoosh! Gurgle gurgle.

Booth's eye that wasn't pressed against his pillow snapped open.

What the HELL was that?

The smell of cooking eggs wafted in through the crack in his door. He shot up. Slowly pulling out his gun from his nightstand drawer, he slowly slithered out of bed, letting the sheets fall to the floor. He tiptoed to the door, wearing only his boxers (red with skulls, his favorite), which he had been too tired to change out of from when he finally got him and Bones home early this morning.

Booth opened the door with force, his arm that didn't opened the door extended to full length, his gun cocked and firmly in his hand. But he soon lowered his gun when he found himself staring in to his kitchen where the one and only Temperance Brennan was making breakfast. He tucked his weapon in to the waistband of his boxers.

"Hey Booth!" she said cheerfully. Brennan had not hesitated to take one of his bathrobes from the back of his door and wrap herself with it. It was too big for her, and just made her look more delicate. He realized she must not be wearing much under it. "Want some eggs?" she held up the skillet, in which was not only eggs, but cheese, scallions, some red peppers and even some kind of herb that he couldn't identify. It smelled delicious and he was hungry.

"Sure, Bones. How about I get some clothes on while you do that." she didn't seem to notice that he wasn't wearing anything more than a pair of boxers. He smiled shyly, not wanting to draw any more attention to the fact he was half-naked. But she just laughed and shook her head.

"That really won't be necessary." she said, looking down at the scrap of clothing he actually WAS wearing. "Besides, I think your boxers are cute." she smiled at him. "Did you buy those with me in mind?"

Oh I bought them for her all right, Booth thought to himself. A blush crept up his cheeks. He quickly sat down at the table and poured a glass of juice from the pitcher left out on the table.

"You know, I've been sleeping here quite a lot." Brennan pointed out, which was just about the last thing that Booth wanted her to talk about. He felt his blush creep slowly down his body, until it reached the place that begged her not to shut up. "Is that a problem, considering you're involved with someone?" No, it's not. She means nothing to me. Just stay. Booth's brain screamed. Flipping the switch in his brain back to "normal", he registered that Brennan was staring.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, sure. Peachy." Booth realized his voice sounded a little low and husky. He took a big gulp of juice.

"Breakfast is ready!" a hot, steamy plate of eggs was placed in front of him. But it was the way that his partner... no. His Bones smiled at him that filled him up.

He needed to call Hannah.

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"Do you know why you're here?"

"Um, because you wanted me to be?" A cold, hard stare from the man sitting across from him slapped Tom Haine in the face. "Because you know from Rebecca that I talked to Jack the night he died."

"Good. Now was that so hard to remember?"

"No, sir."

Booth was sitting in the interrogation room a few days after the Rocky Horror show. Tom Haine was their Frank N Furter. But unlike the others he had interviewed that day, Tom was the only one that came to the interview in normal clothes. He had already had two 'Dr. Scott's, a 'Janet' and 'Brad', who had come at the same time, a 'Riff Raff', and three 'Transylvanian's.

"You know, you are the first of your little buddies today that has not shown up in their costume?" Tom swept his sweeping bangs out of his eyes, which had darkened in embarrassment.

"They still do that? I told them that whenever they're invited somewhere for Rocky Horror business, they don't have to wear their costumes."

"Well maybe they're more devoted than you are."

"Come on, man. Frankie is in my blood." Tom lifted up his pant leg, to reveal a tattoo on his shin of Tim Curry's Dr. Frank with a cigarette in his mouth and his gloved hands curled up against his chest. A single word sprawled in big, dripping red letters across the top of it: GROOVY. Booth got the message.

"So, what happened between you and Jack after his last show? Huh? You get a little too in to the character?" Tom rolled his eyes.

"No, man. I just wanted to talk to the guy. He was messing with my girl. He said it was just playful fun, but it was crossing the line for me. We go to school together and he reported me for cheating on a test, too! That guy's a real ass."

Wait... was this the guy that Jack's mother had told them about? How come he didn't figure this out before?

"Are you also aware that marijuana was also found in Jack's bloodstream? That means he had to have been exposed to it right before he died." Tom looked down at his shoes.

"Okay, so maybe I offered him a little weed, but he was already past his better judgement. Give a guy a few drinks, he'll do anything, right?"

"Yeah, but did you kill him is my question."

"No, I just roughed him up a little. Told him to keep his paws off my girl, and maybe threw a few punches at him. But that's it. I went back inside after that to catch a cab home. Ask any of my castmates." he jotted down a few numbers. "Is that it?"

Booth stared at him with steely eyes again, but shooed him out of the room so he could collect his thoughts.

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Her breathing was labored.

Her legs hurt.

Her arms were sore.

But she kept going.

She was clammy and wet.

Her throat was parched.

Her suit was rubbing against her shoulders uncomfortably.

But she kept going.

Brennan had forgotten how hard a good swim worked her muscles.

She did laps; after twenty she had lost count. Her goggles dug in to her face. But it felt so good to exercise. She had clearly ignored this task for a little while now, she was so wrapped up in work. Luckily, she had kept a key to her building's swimming pool. She thought she had given her only one to Booth and Parker, but she found another hidden among some junk in a drawer. Her suit had been hanging in her closet for ages because she never used it. Luckily it still fit. She borrowed a pair of goggles from Angela. Her hair hung in a limp, wet ponytail down her back.

A Rocky Horror song played in her head.

Since she had gone to see it with Booth, Brennan had begun a new love for the show. She had liked it the first time, but it was even better with other people. Even if they did shout rude lines at the screen and throw rice. Now, it seemed like she was, and had always been, a regular Frankie fan. Her mind buzzed with remembering particularly funny scenes from the movie, wonderful costumes that some of the regulars had, bold and loud lines that were shouted, the music that captivated her through a mix of raunchiness and theatricality, and of course, her virginity sacrifice. For some reason, it's hard to forget stuffing marshmallows in to your mouth while saying "I like your dick in my mouth".

Brennan chuckled at the thought, but it came out as bubbles.

Suddenly, her rhythm was disturbed when someone jumped in to the pool. She hadn't expected anyone to be around at ten p.m. on a weeknight. She stopped briefly to see who it was, still humming the rhythm to "Eddie", but was surprised when she was staring in to the eyes of her fearless partner treading water mere feet from her.

"How did you know I was here?" Brennan gasped.

"Apparently you mentioned to Angela that you were going for a little swim later this evening. Knowing you, "later" means ten o'clock at night." Booth smiled.

"So why did you come, is my real question."

"Do I need an excuse to see you anymore?"

"Booth, what's going on?"

"I just thought you would like to know that... Hannah and I are done. I didn't think it was working out."

"Oh, I'm sorry Booth. I know she meant a lot to you. And that she was a very compatible sex partner." But on the inside, her head was exploding. Maybe it was just pure instinct, or her new love of Rocky that had inspired her to start believing that they were compatible in every way, but either way, all that was holding her back from launching herself at him and kissing him until he forgot completely about Hannah was her sanity.

"Thanks..." lost for words, Booth found a safe topic. "Do you have anything more for me on the case?"

"Not really. We've been a bit stuck on this. We've taken more samples from the crime scene and found not just Jack's blood on the ground but someone else's. If you can get a warrant, we can check to see if it was Tom's blood and he was lying to us." Booth had filled Brennan in on his meeting with Tom earlier when he saw her briefly for lunch. They swam for a few minutes in silence, Brennan humming, the Sword of Damocles now, and Booth trying to keep his eyes open.

Booth circled Brennan lazily, hoping that the moment of awkward silence they had created would soon pass. Sure enough, Brennan's eyes widened slightly, like they did when she had something exciting to tell.

"Oh hey Booth. You you know what you're wearing to Angela's party on Saturday?"

"No, why?"

"Well I have an idea."

"Go on,"

"I thought it might be fun to go to the party dressed as Rocky Horror characters!"

"But which ones?"

"I was thinking Janet and Rocky." she said this as bluntly as she could, but it still made his insides churn to think about going out in public in tiny gold shorts-again.

"I've already found a vintage store in town that has more than enough options. So why don't we swing by there tomorrow and find some costumes?" even though Brennan was trying to make it sound like no big deal, her intention was clear.

"Bones, you DO know what happens between Rocky and Janet, don't you?" Booth swam closer, so they were about an arm's length apart.

"Yes, I do Booth. I remember the show quite well."

Suddenly, a courage that Booth hadn't felt before in the six years of working together welled up inside of him.

"Then you must know that they do this-" Booth closed the distance between them and before he knew it, he was kissing her again, but this time as a free man.

Booth knew what she wanted. He tangled his fingers in her knotted, wet hair. If she wanted more, he would give her more, more, more.

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Come on, guys! I REALLY need your reviews!