Well, I'm back! I'd just like to point out that my deadline of Halloween (which was mentioned earlier) is soon approaching so there'll probably only be another four or five chapters (I would make an emoticon, but I like to express my emotions with actual words). I have NO idea what twisted corner of my brain this chapter came from, but it does push the envelope for the rating a little bit. So viewer discretion advised and blah blah... Enjoy!

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"Okay, how about this one?" Booth stepped out of the changing room in long khaki pants, a plaid button-down and dress shoes. He somewhere found thick-framed black fake glasses. His hair looked like he attempted to comb it in to a part with his fingers.

Brennan took one look and ushered him back in to the changing room.

"Booth! We're not going for Brad, we want Rocky! Haven't you found anything like that yet?"

"No, I haven't, so I was trying out a different look." Booth was getting bored and annoyed; they'd been at this for a few hours. He shut the curtain with a bit more force than intended and started undressing. He heard the swishing sound of hangers as Brennan went back to browsing the shelves.

After they had dinner at the diner Brennan had found a way to bribe him in to the vintage store to look around for their costumes for Angela's party on Saturday. It was a Wednesday night and Booth needed to get to bed so he could be fresh for the next day. He was also sick of looking at vintage clothes.

Booth was stripped to his boxers when something hit him in the face. It seemed to have come from over the curtain.

"Booth! Put it on!" Brennan yelled. He knew this couldn't be good.

Bending down to retrieve what had hit him on the face, he saw a glimmer of gold and felt himself turn red.

Oh god. I don't even think I'll even be able to wear my boxers with that.

Brennan was still browsing when Booth shyly stepped out of the changing room.

"Er, Bones?" she turned around and smiled widely. He felt her eyes travel from his head, all the way down to his crotch (which was void of boxers, or underwear of any kind) and stop there.

Booth just wanted to go back in to the changing room and put his normal clothes on. Or at least cover up his groin from her staring. Speaking of his groin, it suddenly got painfully tight. It's a wonder what a woman's staring can do.

"Oh Booth, this is PERFECT! We're getting it." she smiled wider than ever and he felt himself turn all shades of red. His hands wandered downward to try and shield his steadily growing "problem".

"Okay, but can I at least get back in to my regular clothes now?"

"In a minute. Just stay there for a little bit..." Brennan seemed to be entertained by his situation, but Booth found it far from funny. He tried to order himself to behave, but nothing was working. By now he was feeling extremely hot and stiff.

"Um, Bones? Can I go change now?" she decided to let him, since he looked about ready to either crack or duck back in to the dressing room to die of embarrassment. Chuckling, she nodded and he practically leapt in to the changing room.

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Booth slammed the door.

After his little "incident" in the vintage store, Booth was not just agitated, but he was freaking turned on. There was just something about a woman staring at him in his rather skimpy Halloween costume that turned him on.

He had dropped Brennan off at the lab to get her car and dove straight home, trying to avoid eye contact the whole way. She had found something reasonable for her costume at least; he was glad that she wasn't going to be parading around in her underwear like Janet did for the party.

Booth went in to his dark kitchen, and lit by the city, got himself a glass of water to try and calm down. He sat at his table, illuminated by the lights from the street outside, taking in the cool drink by the mouthful. He finished his water quickly and got another cupful. When the second one didn't help his situation much, he just threw the cup in the sink, hearing its dull thud against the stainless steel.

He entered his bedroom, and, not bothering to turn on the light stripped and threw his clothes on the floor. Flopping in to bed, he couldn't think of anything more to do to relieve his tension, so he did what came almost naturally to him after working for years around this delectable woman and found his hand in his boxers.

It didn't take long for Booth to find himself on the verge of cracking-when he heard his apartment door open. But wait, the only people that had his key were Hannah, who was gone, Rebecca, who was probably with Parker and Bones...

Oh SHIT!

Eyes wide, Booth quickly pulling his hand out of his boxers with a sorrowful whine, and made a best effort to hide any evidence that he had been relieving any tension that had bubbled up from his rather flustering evening with his partner. He pulled the covers up to his chest and pretending to be asleep.

His efforts were just in time, too, for just when he shut his eyes, he heard his bedroom door open. He cracked one eye and examined the room. All he could see of the person was a dark outline. Definitely female. But not much else could be told, so he really only had one option to find out who the mystery caller was. He sat up and spoke.

"Bones?" the figure turned to face him. Her face caught the light of the outside world and to Booth's surprise it wasn't Bones that called upon him this late.

It was Hannah.

"Jesus Hannah, what the hell?"

"Seeley-"

"I have to work in the morning! Why are you in here so late?" Booth snapped more aggressively than meant.

"Well if you must know, I have an important meeting tomorrow and I need my work clothes." she snapped back.

"Fine, get your things, but make it quick." Booth grumbled, still a little hot and heavy from his self-relief. His breathing was still a bit heavy as well. "Do you need help?"

"Yeah, that would be great. I know you're probably not very decent under there, so I can get it to my car from the door." Booth jumped out of bed and grabbed a bag. He was still breathing a bit heavy and trying to gain control of himself.

"Your breathing is a bit heavy." Hannah observed. "Did I walk in on you doing push-ups or..." her eyes trailed downwards. "I see. Is this about Temperance?" the look on his face said everything.

"Hannah, I loved you. I really did-"

"But not enough. I don't need your help." she took her bags and disappeared; probably for the last time. He heard the door slam. Hard.

Booth saw nothing else to do but fall back in to bed, curl up in a ball, and try and get a little sleep before tomorrow.

But then he shot up. Not because of his embarrassing evening, but because he had an idea about the case.

If no one from the cast killed the kid, maybe someone SAW the kid getting killed.

He knew who to ask.

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"Why am I here? I should really be back at school. I'm kind of in the middle of getting a degree here." Rebecca the Magenta sat across the interrogation room table from Brennan and Booth.

"Well, after talking to most of your somewhat drunk castmates, we have decided that you are the most reliable source of information." Booth said. "In fact, you're one of the few who hasn't showed up for these interrogations in their costume." It was true. Rebecca was dressed, not in a sexy maid outfit and frizzy wig, but in skinny jeans, and a white U-neck shirt with a dog wearing a hat on it. Her non-frizzy hair was ties back in to a ponytail. She seemed to like being normal.

"You still haven't told me why I'm here." she was a little agitated at having to be here during class.

"We just need to know if you saw anyone who looked suspicious at the scene. I know that you were probably on your way to your car at that point in the evening." she nodded, remembering.

"Uh, well I remember walking by the alley on the way to the car, and I heard a commotion. I looked over in to the alley, but it was dark, so I didn't see much." Rebecca looked at Booth, as to ask if she was doing well.

"Go on."

"Um, but I did see something. I saw a man, most likely Jack wrestling with someone. I remember faintly seeing him punch the guy in the nose."

"Okay, is there anything distinct that you remember about the attacker?"

"Um... not much. Tall. Definitely a man. Muscular." Booth scribbled this down in his notes. "Oh, and you know what else? He was definitely wearing a uniform from the movie theater. Some of those guys hate coming in on Saturday nights to deal with our wild crowd."

Brennan and Booth thanked Rebecca for their time and set off to find the disgruntled movie theater employee.

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Even though the chapters left are limited, I'm still looking for reviews!