Disclaimer: Don't own Bones

A/n: Okay, so I was feeling like this story was lacking a little something and I couldn't put my finger on it, but after talking to a couple of smart ladies, I've decided to branch out a little. One of my favorite Bones character in this chapter, so I'm hoping you enjoy!

Nuanced Perceptions

"Ah, the lovely Dr. Brennan," he enthused, giving her a gentle hug. "Let me look at you, my dear." He gave a nod of approval. "Why yes, young Dr. Sweets is right, you absolutely do glow."

"You spoke to Sweets?" Booth asked.

"Yes. He is quite concerned with the FBI's reaction to your personal relationship," Gordon-Gordon reported. He opened the Diner door and gestured for Booth and Brennan to precede him. "As your former therapist," he said to Booth, "I have been called upon to give a most informed opinion of your abilities in light of these new circumstances."

Brennan made a face. "I hate psychology," she muttered.

"I thought you were retired, Doc," Booth piped in.

"I am, but that does not make my observations any less valid," he gave a big grin. "I am incredibly insightful, you know."

"You are," Brennan agreed seriously and Wyatt sent her a dazzling smile.

"Coming from you, Dr. Brennan, I am terribly flattered."

"I am merely stating the truth." Brennan took a seat and immediately reached for the menu. Her usual salad and her share of Booth's fries was not cutting it anymore. "Your intellect is also quite vast."

Wyatt's eyes twinkled. "Well, it may be unseemly to toot one's own horn, but to hell with it," he decided grandly. "I am quite brilliant." He gave Brennan another smile. "As are you, my dear."

Her lips curved up. "I know."

Booth smirked. "Okay, if I may interrupt the mutual admiration club, for a moment," he jumped in. "There's that small matter of the FBI wanting to split us up."

"Ah, yes." Gordon-Gordon adopted a suitably somber expression. "I assume you are both distressed over this possibility?" There were identical nods and his gaze turned pensive. "Might I inquire as to why that is?"

Booth groaned. "Oh, here we go."

"What?" Brennan gave him a puzzled look.

"What? You think that's a normal question?" Booth asked rhetorically. "No, that's a classic, Gordon-Gordon you-will-now-spill-your-guts-to-me type of question."

"And yet my guts remain safely inside me."

"Come now, Agent Booth," Wyatt said in amusement. "Surely, I am more subtle than that."

"You're about as subtle as a sledgehammer, Doc."

"Oh, you wound me." A melodramatic hand was pressed to his chest. "Yes, you wound me deeply. But is it possible that my question might be a valid one?"

"What's your question again?" Brennan said without apology. "I wasn't really listening before. The menu …it has so many options," she said by way of explanation. "I've never realized. It's quite difficult to choose, I seem to want everything."

Wyatt chuckled without taking offense. "Okay, my dear, why don't we order first?"

Booth ordered his customary burger and fries and added extra fries to his order. Brennan, after much perusing, settled on two eggs, pancakes, a fruit medley that came as a side, a basket of bread, and orange juice.

"It's lunch," Booth pointed out. "Why are you ordering breakfast?"

She gave him an icy glare. "Because your child wants breakfast."

"You're having cravings?" Immediately, his lips curved up. "Aw, Bones."

The foolish smile made her roll her eyes but also sent a pleasant warmth through her body. With the exception of one random bout of morning sickness the previous week, she hadn't really had any of the expected pregnancy symptoms. For the most part, that was a good thing, but Booth had confessed he kinda wanted her to have weird cravings in the middle of the night.

"Why?" she'd asked.

"You know… so I could go get you what you want."

"Why couldn't I just go get it myself?"

"Because, Bones. You wouldn't want to get out of bed and I'd want to get it for you, anyway."

"Well, if I'm hungry enough, I would get out of—"

"Never mind."

It seemed that Booth would be getting his random food cravings after all. In fact, she was starting to notice other symptoms recently that told her the ease of her pregnancy so far was a thing of the past. Once she went into her second trimester, her stomach began to expand seemingly overnight, her libido seemed suddenly out of control, and yesterday, she had burst into tears after Booth had called to tell her he'd be home late.

"I may want breakfast at midnight," she informed Booth.

Arm sprawled casually over the back of her chair, he gave her a big grin. "Well, I will make it for you."

Wyatt watched entranced. "Fascinating."

Booth's flirty smile disappeared and he turned his head to look at Gordon-Gordon. "Okay, Doc, so when are you supposed to go meet with the Bureau?"

"Tomorrow."

Brennan raised an eyebrow. Booth's back went ramrod straight. "Tomorrow?"

"Indeed." He smiled genially and clapped his hands. "Now, tell me, my intrepid crimefighters, would the world really come to an end if your professional partnership were to terminate?"

"Of course not. That's ludicrous." She got a head tilt from Gordon-Gordon. "Oh. Metaphoric. Got it."

Booth leaned forward. "Okay, Gordon-Gordon, whatcha getting at?"

"It has come to my attention that you're both quite distraught over the possible dissolution of your partnership."

"Come to your attention?" Booth scoffed. "You mean Sweets blabbed."

"In any event, you are now engaged in a personal partnership, no?" he gestured to their relaxed posture. "And apparently a quite successful one. You no longer need the safety net, shall we say, provided by your professional association, do you? So why are you perceiving this possible eventuality as some looming harbinger of doom?"

Brennan frowned. Booth shifted in his seat. Wyatt settled back against his chair with a winning smile. "Let's cogitate on that for a moment, shall we?"

-x-

There hasn't been many suggestions with the letters, so hope M is more inspiring. GG is hard to write, apologies if he's not quite right, feel free to leave any feedback/thoughts on that or anything else, do not be shy.