Your best friend likes her. Your best friend likes her. Your best friend likes her. Your best friend is in love with her. This. Is. Not. A. Date. This was a horrible idea. How did I let Maura talk me into this?

Not a good sign. Booth had only just reached Maura's house, and was already running this mantra through his head. Of course Maura had always looked beautiful—even in a lab coat and scrubs—but there was something about her tonight that really struck Booth. Maybe it was because she was dressed this way for him, and that way was disarmingly sexy: a tight, champagne-colored dress flattered every curve of her body, stopping just short enough to show off the legs that were more fantastic than any doctor had a right to possess. Black stockings protected her legs from the cool air, coming to an abrupt end in a pair of crimson, three-inch heels. Her magnificent golden hair was swept mostly up, excepting for a pseudo-ponytail she allowed to rest over her shoulder.

"You're speechless, Agent Booth," she said, standing in the doorway. "Do you think I'm dressed inappropriately for the party?"

"I—no, no, I don't think so," Booth stammered, so unnerved that he forgot to ask Maura to call him by his first name. He was dressed in a simple suit and tie, not looking much different from his regular work attire. "I mean, I've never been to one of these parties, so who am I to…"

He drifted off awkwardly, and Maura just grabbed her jacket and smiled at him. Shutting the door behind her, she said, "My mother used to tell me that I should always wear clothes that were tight enough to let people know I was a woman, but loose enough to remain a lady."

"That's…nice," Booth choked out, meaning it but not knowing how to rightly convey it. When they reached his car, he stepped quickly in front of Maura to get the door for her, not sure why that urge had descended upon him so fast. He didn't usually get doors for women, especially not Bones …but somehow with Maura, it felt warranted.

Once he'd gotten in the car as well, he started backing out of the driveway and trying desperately to think of a good conversation topic. "So! Uh, the memorial thing for Alicia is tomorrow night. Have you thought at all about—uh, how we should…"

"My lying is improving, but I still think that if possible, you may just want to pretend your last name is Isles," Maura said. "It'll give me one less thing to worry about giving away."

"Your lying is improving?" Booth asked, grinning. "Have you tested it out?"

Maura did not return the grin, and couldn't even bring herself to chuckle. "Yes. I think it worked quite successfully. But the person left shortly afterwards, and I nearly vomited into the bathroom sink."

"Ah. So you need some more practice. Okay, tell me two truths and a lie."

"What?"

"It's a game I used to play as a kid, a sort of get-to-know-you game. You tell two truths and then a lie about yourself, and everyone has to guess which one is the lie. I still don't know you very well, so this is your chance to make up something totally outrageous and try to make me guess. Just don't be too obvious, and don't make your truths something that I already know."

"Okay…" After thinking about it long and hard, Maura said, "Two truths, one lie… I have never broken a bone. I once drove a caravan with a hitchhiking cheetah on top of it." She needed one more truth. "And I… I asked Jane to pretend to be my girlfriend once."

Booth raised his eyebrows, already knowing the last one was a fact. "Well, well. Okay. I'm gonna say the lie is that …you have never broken a bone."

"Nope," Maura laughed, pleased at stumping him. "That one's a truth!"

"Ah, dammit!" Booth said good-naturedly. "I should've known that cheetah story was too ridiculous to be true! You just seem like the kind of person who might've gone to Africa on some humanitarian trip or something."

"I have," Maura said gleefully. "But it was a wild jackal that was on top of the caravan. Not a cheetah." It dawned on her then that it seemed Booth had assumed it was true that she'd have once asked Jane to pretend to be her girlfriend. Why did he find that so easy to believe? Had she given something away, made a careless mistake in admitting that to him?

Before she could freak out any more about it (her heart was beating alarmingly fast), Booth broke into her thoughts: "Of course, that's different than if someone asked you a straight question, right? You have a harder time lying?" He glanced over and saw Maura nod. Have you ever been with a woman? If Jane made a serious move on you, would you accept it? "Well… you probably won't have to worry about it too much tomorrow. I'll do the introducing—'hi, I'm Seeley B… Isles, and this is my wife, Maura. I was Alicia and Eden's bishop when they were at school, blah, blah, blah.' You might not even get asked any questions you'd have to lie about. Tell them what you know about Alicia, that she was a nice kid. Help me out with any, uh, denominational differences I might struggle to understand. You know. That kind of thing."

"Right," Maura sighed, not really listening. "Had Frankie picked up Dr. Brennan before you left?"

She couldn't help but notice that Booth's jaw tightened at the question. "Yup. Nice kid, that Frankie. Really. Bones thinks he's adorable."

"She said that?"

"Ah, well, yeah. His manner, she meant. I think." He frowned.

"Don't let it get you down, Agent Booth. Seeley. Frankie is a good man, and he won't do anything out of line."

Booth snorted. "Oh, I actually do believe that, Maura. It's Bones I wouldn't be so sure about. I mean, you've talked to her, you know she's not exactly squeamish when it comes to talking about sex, so she's not a prude when it… uh, when it comes down to it, you know?" He spared a glance for Maura, who appeared as if she was wondering whether this was something Booth ought to be telling her. "Don't worry," he snorted. "I'm not saying anything Bones wouldn't tell you herself."

"Right," Maura said softly. "Does her openness with sexuality bother you?"

"What? Oh, you mean her…" Booth shrugged. "It's just not—I mean, we approach that very differently."

"Yes, I got that impression. Jane told me she learned that behavior from you. She really respects the way you treat women, and she's tried to imitate it. You know, Booth, Jane really, really thinks highly of you. I can't tell you how wonderful it's been to finally meet you at last."

She was looking at him full on, but Booth couldn't bring himself to take his eyes off the road. He merely gulped and said, "Uh, thanks. Jane thinks highly of you, too, Maura." Very highly. "I know she's not always the best at showing it, but uh, she really appreciates you a lot."

"I hope she has fun tonight," Maura sighed, looking out the window. "She hasn't been to one of these parties in ages." In a lightly strangled tone, she added, "It was certainly fortuitous that Angela came along. They seem to really like each other."

That was an understatement. Sitting in her car in the venue's parking lot, Jane and her date were currently engaged in another heated game of tonsil hockey. It had started with the old "I-can't-unbuckle-my-seatbelt" trick, which Jane really thought had been a line until she remembered that the buckle in the passenger's seat of this car tended to get stuck quite frequently. As she struggled to help Angela undo it, Angela just smirked and asked if this was Jane's tactic with all the girls. "Why, is it working?" Jane snorted, not imagining that the sight of her embarrassing herself could possibly be a turn-on. But the artist had responded by ducking slightly and catching Jane's mouth in a quick kiss. Well, it had started quickly, anyway. Jane was almost alarmed by how aggressive she was becoming, and later wondered if it had to do with the months of sexual frustration that had been hovering over her, and tumbled out when faced by Angela's libido. They sprung apart only when the belt finally relinquished its hold on the buckle, effectively ending the moment.

"You may want to uh…" Jane stared at Angela, waving a finger in the direction of her own mouth. "Fix your lipstick."

"Oh, I don't know," Angela said, opening her bag and pulling out a small makeup kit. "I think it could be kind of fun to just go in there and see how long it takes for somebody to actually acknowledge it to my face."

"Fun idea in theory, but Brennan's going to be there, so I'd wager it'd be a pretty short game," Jane pointed out.

"Ha! Good point."

Jane had to look away when Angela started reapplying the lipstick, because it again made her look too freaking kissable. As long as they were alone out here in her car in the parking lot, temptation was going to be really difficult to fight. So the moment that Angela had snapped her bag shut again, Jane got out of the car and walked around it to open Angela's door. They walked towards the building arm in arm until Jane realized, "Oh, this seems super formal, sorry…" and reached for Angela's hand instead. It almost seemed to be in vain, though, because as soon as they were inside, Jane caught Cavanaugh's eye and excused herself to have a quick word with him.

Suffice it to say Angela was not left unattended for long. She had spotted Brennan and Frankie sitting at a table and was about to walk over when a short, unsightly man stepped in her way.

"Hello there," he said, knowing she was an unfamiliar face and thus must be a co-worker's date, but not really caring. "Haven't seen you around here before. My name's Crowe."

"Crowe," Angela said with a smile. "Pleasure."

"Oh, it will be," he said, shaking her hand with a rather disgusting grin.

Angela maintained the smile but narrowed her eyes, gently tugging her hand away. In a sweet voice, she said, "What a charmer. I'm Angela Montenegro. And in case you're wondering, no, I didn't stumble upon your party by chance. I happen to be here with someone from the homicide department, so I'd watch my back if I were you."

"Homicide, huh?" Crowe asked apprehensively.

Just as he had dreaded, Jane walked over then, putting an arm smoothly around Angela's waist. "This creep bugging you, sweetheart?" Turning to her surly coworker, she sneered, "Buzz off, Crowe," but didn't give him the chance to leave first. She steered Angela over to the table with her brother and Brennan, apologizing profusely. "Sorry, Ange—I had to tell the Lieutenant something about the case, and didn't want to wait in case I forgot. Geez. Leave it to Crowe to take three seconds to find the prettiest girl here."

"Aw, Jane, you old softie," Angela said.

They had reached the table, and Frankie stood up to meet Jane's date. Shaking Angela's hand, he shot Jane a raised eyebrow and quietly impressed grin, which Jane just had to roll her eyes and chuckle at. "You two having fun?" she asked.

"Oh yes, it's been quite fascinating studying …I mean, speaking with your brother," Brennan said as Jane and Angela sat down. "I still hope to one day do a more conclusive study on the idiosyncrasies of and problems facing middle children. Also, he's been explaining to me the rigors of applying to become a detective! I had no idea it was so difficult, Detective Rizzoli."

"Yes, well, it's not exactly a science, but catching killers is pretty difficult work," Jane said, not unkindly. Nodding at their plates, she asked in a stage whisper, "How's the food?"

"I have to say it pales in comparison to that meal we had at your mother's house," Brennan said, "but it's decent."

"Did Stanley make it?" Jane asked Frankie.

He just laughed. "No way! You remember what Cavanaugh said after that first year—never again. They got catering from Sookie's."

"Ooh, that's good stuff," Jane said, standing up again. "Angela, can I get you a plate?"

"Oh, I'll come along," Angela said brightly, and they walked over to the buffet table together. Angela glanced back over her shoulder at her friend, amused at the highly interested expression on Brennan's face as she leaned in to restart her conversation with Frankie. "Wow. I have to say, I'm impressed that your brother's face hasn't been melted off by all of Brennan's questions yet."

Jane looked over as well, grinning. "Ah, I think it's a nice change of pace for Frankie. It's not that he goes after dumb girls, it's just that… well, he's not used to dating particularly intelligent ones. It's probably cool to him that Brennan's actually interested in him, and not intimidated or condescending."

"Aw, it's…kinda cute, don't you think?" Angela asked.

"Sure, I guess," Jane said with a smile.

As they started dishing up food, Angela gestured at the group of police officers surrounding them and asked, "So how'd you get interested in all of this? Becoming a cop, I mean. Was it something you always wanted to do?"

After giving it a few moments of thought, Jane said, "You know, I think it was. Growing up, we had a next-door neighbor who was a cop, and I thought he was the coolest guy around. I mean he had a cool car, and a uniform, and a gun…" She laughed nostalgically while also trying to juggle her plate and unwisely-filled glass. "My poor ma just wanted me to wear pretty dresses and play with dolls and do ballet, but… man. I saw Officer Hill, our neighbor, and just wanted to be like him. Carry a gun, protect people, wear a uniform so everyone knew I meant business."

"Did that influence your decision to join the army?"

"Yeah, I guess. I mean in high school, it became the cool thing to hate on cops, you know? All kids think they do is bust your parties and give you speeding tickets. The only way I could convince my parents to let me join in the army was to tell them it'd pay for school." She shrugged. "I didn't even go when I got back, not really. Just went to a junior college for two years and went back to my dream of being a cop." Talking about that didn't bother her, but she was afraid of any follow-up questions Angela might ask about her time in the army. In an attempt to change the subject, Jane made a big show out of trying to discern the difference between the two pasta plates in front of her, asking Angela for her opinion. Angela got the hint and happily went along.

As they walked back to their table, Jane got up the nerve to ask: "Have you uh, got any plans for Thanksgiving?"

"Sort of," Angela said, pretty sure that from Jane's tone, she wanted to invite her over. "My dad's got a really good friend who lives in Boston, they used to be in a band together. He's spending Thanksgiving with this guy's family, and since he knew Hodgins and I were going to be here, he asked us to come along."

"Oh, that's nice," Jane said earnestly. "That's really nice. Um…if you want, though, I mean—uh, you should definitely not cancel, but …if you wanted to come for dessert with us, that'd be really nice. If you wanted to, if you had time. You and Hodgins and your dad."

"That would be fun," Angela said, sounding sincere. "I'll talk to dad and Hodgins about it."

"Cool! Yeah, we're just getting together at Maura's house, since she has a bit more room in her place than my tiny apartment. And Booth and Brennan are coming, too. It's too bad her parents are still in Europe—I'm sure Constance would love to meet a fan."

"Shoot. I'll just have to send her a fan letter."

"I'm sure she'd love that."

Shortly after that'd sat back down and joined in Brennan and Frankie's conversation, one of Jane's few female co-workers flew over, kneeling next to her to whisper a quick question in her ear: "Who is that hunk with Maura?"

"She's with my friend Seeley," Jane laughed. "He's with the FBI; he's been helping us out with the Howard…"

Jane had turned to look at the doorway, which she correctly assumed Booth and Maura were now walking through. It amazed her that after all this time, all the gorgeous outfits she had seen Maura wear (and the various times she had seen her partially nude)—the woman could still make Jane speechless. She recovered very quickly, fast enough that nobody noticed she had even really been distracted, not knowing her heart had skipped a beat or two. Jane inwardly cursed herself, feeling like a jerk, a creep, for thinking something like that about Maura when she was here with another woman. A beautiful, witty, smart woman, to boot. Don't be an ass, Rizzoli! But if she was totally honest with herself, Jane couldn't help noticing what an attractive couple Booth and Maura made (an observation also made by her coworker, who resignedly left go find her husband again). They weren't the only ones—Brennan was also staring down the two of them, and Frankie and Angela were both warily keeping an eye on her.

"Hey guys," Booth said, not having detected any weirdness or discomfort. He threw himself into the seat next to Jane, casually putting an arm around the back of her chair. "So we got a look at the band they hired when we pulled up. Looks like it's going to be jazz."

Leaning back, Jane sighed dejectedly. "I don't know what it is about jazz, but I just don't think it sounds right without that scratchy, tinny background noise that comes with all those old records, you know?"

"Well, look at this way," Maura offered. "If you were to somehow go back in time and hear Glenn Miller or Tommy Dorsey play, they'd sound just as brash and clear as whoever's playing tonight."

"Fair point."

Once Booth and Maura had gotten and returned with their food, Angela said, "Maura, I'm really curious. What got you so interested in being a medical examiner? Your mother's so… artistic."

"That's true, she is," Maura said. "I suppose what first instigated my interest in science was an elementary school teacher I had, Mrs. Caldecott, who suggested I try out for the New England science fair. I wasn't particularly skilled yet at writing, or analyzing poetry, and certainly didn't have a penchant for music. And, much to my mother's everlasting disappointment, I possessed no artistic abilities whatsoever! Mrs. Caldecott had noticed I was very observant, and liked collecting data about various things."

"Such as which girls were more likely to wear barrettes or butterfly clips?" Jane teased her.

But, "Yes, actually," Maura said, not catching the joke. "So she helped me come up with an experiment on a Lithobates catesbeiana I had dissected, and… wow. I was fascinated. I felt so powerful wielding that tiny scalpel, and I was so… so captivated by the intricacies of this tiny creature's body." She calmly took a sip of ginger ale and stared at the table. "I actually think if anyone were to ask me at that party tomorrow—which they wouldn't, but… if somebody asked, I'd say that was the moment I first entertained the notion that there might be a God. I was only ten years old, so of course I still had much to study and discover, and I couldn't fully comprehend all the implications of biology, of physical life. I thought there had to be some sort of master creator, a God, who knew enough and knew everything to make such detailed, specific things as bodies, and make them work properly."

"So in ultimately joining the scientific community, you felt as though you were becoming a god?" Brennan asked.

"Oh no, no I would never say something like that," Maura hurriedly explained. "I do think there is a certain godlike power that many doctors have, but not doctors like me. I have to find a way to deal with the dead. Hm… maybe that's a bit godlike in its own way, but not quite. I've tended to encounter people who think there isn't much use to studying medicine if you're not going to use your knowledge to save lives, like a surgeon, but …I've always felt more comfortable dealing with dead patients than live ones."

"Which is in no way creepy," Jane said. Maura flashed a dark look at her, perceiving sarcasm, but Jane said, "No, I mean it. You do save lives, Maura, because you help us save cases. People like me and Booth? We're idiots."

"Morons," he agreed.

"Without you and Brennan and Angela, we'd be lost. Lives would be lost. "

"Don't underestimate your own importance, though," Maura said. "Science alone can't save the world. We don't possess the courage or the instincts or the strength to chase down a suspect."

"It's true," Brennan sighed. "Long ago I had to resign myself to the sometimes unpleasant notion that I can't do everything myself. Anthropologically speaking, in recent times, it has become typical for humans to believe they are supermen, that they can accomplish anything entirely on their own, independently of anyone else. I won't get into the semantics of it, but suffice it to say that teamwork yields the best results."

"In everything?" Booth pressed her.

"Well, I don't think I feel confident categorically saying everything, but certainly in cases like ours."

"What about romance?" Booth challenged her, instantly putting everyone at the table slightly on edge. "Brennan, I think sometimes you've fallen into that trap of believing you're above it all, that you don't need anyone else in your life because you've got it all under control. You're letting pride or fear or ignorance get in the way of allowing another person inside. We weren't meant to go through this life alone. Our jobs—all our jobs—prove that."

A short but very heavy pause followed this proclamation, as everyone tried (and failed) not to look at Brennan for a reaction. Her expression made it seem as though she'd been caught off guard, but she smoothed it over quickly enough to look unfazed. "Booth, I think you're exaggerating."

"And you're avoiding," he said, getting to his feet. "'Scuse me for a minute, I need to have a word with Cavanaugh."

After he'd left, Brennan excused herself to find a bathroom, and Angela decided it would behoove her as Brennan's best friend to follow up. This left Maura and the Rizzoli's sitting alone at their table in the aftershock. Frankie leaned towards Jane and said, "So…so that was really awkward, right?"

"You think?" Jane sighed, rubbing her forehead. "Ugh, this is giving me a migraine."

"I have to say, I think Agent Booth is being a bit unfair," Maura said. "He's making love sound so simple when really, it's anything but."

"Let's face it, Jane," Frankie said. "You're the only one here with a real date."

"Yeah, but you knew that going in," Jane said. "I mean, you both knew that."

"Oh, I'm not complaining," Maura said lightly. "I just feel sorry that Seeley and Dr. Brennan can't seem to work this out."

"Sounds like you're simplifying," Jane pointed out, cuing a crooked smile and rueful laugh from Maura. "Frankie, I wouldn't worry about Brennan. I get the feeling that she doesn't let stuff like this ruffle her. We all think it's awkward, but it's just business as usual for her. Hell, she probably left right now because she actually did have to go to the bathroom." (Which, Angela learned, was in fact the case.) "Don't let it bum you out, little bro."

He just shrugged. "No big, if she's okay."

"Did you and Angela kiss?" Maura suddenly asked.

"What?" Jane and Frankie said in unison, eyebrows raised.

"Angela is wearing a very distinct shade of coral lipstick, and I detected there's a small smudge of it on the corner of your mouth," Maura said.

Jane groaned and grabbed a napkin. "Aw, geez…"

"Whoa! Sis!" Frankie laughed. "Nice job! How'd it happen?"

"That's none of your business, Frankie," Jane said darkly. "Keep out of this."

While Jane was scrambling to remain dignified and quiet about it, Angela was quite the opposite. In the restroom with Brennan, she raised an eyebrow as her anthropologist pal leaned in closer, staring at her lips.

"Hi, Temperance," she said slowly.

"Have you and Detective Rizzoli kissed?"

"What ever gave you that idea?"

"Your lips appear slightly swollen," Brennan said matter-of-factly, washing her hands. "It was hard to tell for sure out there, and heaven knows it isn't easy with the terrible lighting in here, but upon closer inspection, it seems to be the case."

"Hm. Well, you caught me," Angela chuckled. "I guess it couldn't be helped. She came to pick me up, and we were walking to her car, and she just kissed me. Right the hell outta nowhere."

"Well, technically you're on a date," Brennan pointed out. "So it may not have been exactly out of nowhere."

"Right, but I mean there was no lead-in to it. We weren't saying or doing anything that would have led me to expect it, but oh, I'm not complaining! She's a damn good kisser. Like, God help me if things go any further tonight."

"I don't know if the typical Christian depiction of God would be open to helping you in that manner," Brennan said, crossing Angela to get to the door."

"Thanks, dear."

Upon exiting the restroom, they found Booth standing patiently by the door, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. "Bones, a word?" he asked, and Angela gave Brennan an encouraging pat on the back before walking back to their table. "Look, I'm sorry I kind of jumped at you at the table just now."

"It's fine, Booth, you have nothing to apologize for," Brennan said calmly.

"No, I do. It was totally out of line, and it was disrespectful."

"I think it may have been more disrespectful to Dr. Isles than to me. She is your date, after all."

"Yeah, but it's not a date, date."

"You don't find her attractive?"

"No! Well, I mean, yeah, but—I mean, you have to acknowledge at least objectively that she's a beautiful woman, right?"

"Using me as the standard? Yes, I suppose," Brennan said, shooting a surveying look over at Maura. "But Booth, if you wanted someone to bring to this event as just a friend, or a co-worker, why didn't you ask me? Wouldn't that have been the more logical thing to do?"

He sighed heavily, casting his gaze to the floor. "The more I think about it, the more I wonder if that might have been the case. But Maura thought this might be a good opportunity for us to get to know each other a little better, and get comfortable being together, because of the nature of our undercover operation that's happening tomorrow. Granted it's not a lot of time to prep, but it's better than nothin', right?"

"There might be merit to that theory, yes," Brennan conceded. "Although it would carry more weight if you were actually spending time with her, not with me."

She had started walking back to the table so Booth could accomplish this and get back on track, but he gently took her elbow and pulled her back. "Wait, wait. I wanted to talk to you to apologize for my behavior—"

"Which was unnecessary, as I wasn't offended."

"—but which I felt was warranted," Booth semi-growled. "But I also gotta ask you something else. I mean, I've gotta tell you something. I have to tell someone else, or I'm gonna just—burst."

"I have a hard time believing anything you might have to say would cause you to spontaneously combust, Booth, but go ahead."

"Okay. It's about Jane. Well actually, it's about Maura. It's something Cam let slip."

"Oh, yes! Frankie mentioned that Maura had said she and Cam used to work together!"

"They did. And Cam very casually brought up the fact that when Maura was working in New York, she very seriously dated a woman from the NYPD." He had gotten this out quickly, anxious to get it off his chest, but was a bit disappointed in the lack of a reaction the news got. Brennan simply contracted her brows and looked back at the table where Jane, Maura, Frankie, and Angela were now talking. "So?" Booth pressed her.

"That's odd," Brennan finally said. "That first night we had dinner at her house, I asked Dr. Isles if she considered herself a lesbian. She said she didn't."

"And she can't lie," Booth said. "Especially at that point, she wouldn't have even tried."

"Well then, there are two explanations," Brennan said. "Either she falls more into the bracket of bisexuality or bicuriousity, or she is the type of person who doesn't ascribe to sexuality labels at all."

"C'mon, you mean that fluid sexuality crap?"

"It's not crap, Booth," Brennan said lightly. "It's just a fact for many if not most people. Studies have been done that conclude every person, regardless of their alleged orientation, has had some sort of fantasy about a person of the same sex. It might not be conscious, but it's there, it's real, in various levels of intensity."

"So you're saying I've fantasized about a dude before?"

"'Fantasized' might be a bit of a strong word, but in a manner of speaking, yes."

Booth thoughtfully put his hand up on the wall, trying to gather his thoughts. "Well, I guess I did really idolize Tom Selleck for a while."

"Did you ever, say, have a dream about him? Dreams are the most prevalent example of our subconscious desires coming to the fore."

"Actually, yeah," Booth chuckled. "I had a dream that I was locked in a dungeon some place, and he came and rescued me. But that was it. We didn't like, kiss or anything."

"I'd say it counts," Brennan said.

"Well what about you, then? You've thought that about a woman before?"

"Oh, certainly. I've felt an attraction, but not a sexual one. For example, I don't find it surprising that Jane has aroused so much interest from Angela. I find her very attractive, but not to the point that I would want to have intercourse with her."

"Okay, stop," Booth sighed. "Rewind. We're getting off track here. Bottom line—do you think I should tell Jane that Maura had some sort of relationship with a woman before?"

Finally looking surprised, Brennan said, "You mean she doesn't know?"

"She's got no clue. She thinks Maura is totally straight."

"From my understanding, 'totally straight' women don't date other women," Brennan said seriously.

"Right. So…"

"So what, Booth? Do you want my assistance in getting them together?"

"I don't—I don't know, I just think it's weird, that's all," Booth muttered.

"I'll grant you that one, Booth. It does seem strange."

He closed his hand into a fist and gently prodded Brennan's shoulder. "Right. Well, I guess we should be getting back. Don't, uh, say anything to any of them about it, okay?"

"I won't."

"Good. That's the only thing we'd need to make any of this more awkward."