Apparently my muse went on Hiatus with Bones but it finally gave me this.
-Gum
Dirt
A shrill noise pierced through her subconscious, dragging her up from the depths of her peaceful slumber. She groaned and fumbled blindly for the phone, answering it only to stop the incessant ringing.
"Sweetie," Angela began without preamble, pausing only long enough for Brennan to grunt her acknowledgment. "Sweetie, you need to get up and call your publicist right away!"
"Why?" Brennan asked through a yawn. "What's going on?"
"Well," the artist took a deep breath, "so I was in grabbing some groceries at Giant and you know all those magazines and stuff they have in the checkout lanes?" There was no time for Brennan to answer as her friend continued breathlessly, "It's not like I look at them regularly, though sometimes I do and this time I had to because your face was plastered everywhere!"
"My face?" she asked. "What's so urgent about that? I've been in the tabliods before."
"Well, it's not so much your face as its what your face is attached to," Angela emphasized the last word. "Or rather, who, because all I could see was you and someone who looks suspiciously like Special Agent Hot Stuff sucking some major face. And in one of the pics it looks like he got to second base too."
"I don't know what that means," Brennan frowned.
"And these headlines," Angela went on, "this one says, 'Finding Her Andy,' another one claims 'More Than Just Partners,' and then there's 'FBI Agent Throws His Doctor a Bone.' Should I keep going?"
"Ange," Brennan answered long-sufferingly, "the tabloids have been conjecturing about the true nature of my relationship with Booth for years now."
"Yeah, but whoever touched up these pictures did an expert job. I mean, I know they can't be real but that's not the conclusion everyone else in the world is going to draw!"
"Fine," Brennan sighed, "I'll have my publicist look into things."
"Good," the relieved reply came. "Though, Bren?"
"Yes?"
"One of these years you really ought to give him a chance and take him for a test ride."
"Goodbye, Angela," she sang, quickly hanging up the phone and sinking back down into her pillow.
"So I got caught stealing second?" a somnolent voice rumbled in her ear.
"Apparently that alley was not as private as we thought," she felt heat rising in her cheeks.
"Hey," Booth grinned wildly, "I'm not the one who dragged us there in the first place."
"Yes, but you were the one who assaulted me with your lips," she trailed a finger down his bare chest. "And pressed me up against that wall."
"Easiest way to shut you up," he shrugged, eyes twinkling, "and I didn't hear any complaints from your end."
Before she could retort he pulled her closer and caught her lips with his once more. There wasn't any less passion than there had been the night before when he'd shocked her into silence, but it was slow and languorous rather than frenzied.
"How long do you think it'll take Ange to figure out they're real?" he asked when they'd pulled back for air.
On the nightstand the phone rang once more and she glanced at the Caller ID.
"Not long at all."