Booth's hand felt unnecessarily warm against Brenna's cool skin. He felt her shiver slightly and, against his will, his fingers lightly grazed across the back of her neck. This made Brennan's head turn towards him so fast, he was surprised she hadn't gotten whiplash. Booth swallowed. They were on shaky ground again, he knew, after what had transpired in the car. If there was one thing Booth could be sure of, it was that Brennan always kept him on his toes. They were such complete opposites that the inevitable friction had sparked something else instead, prevaricating between good and bad.

'I have been thinking,' Ziva said suddenly, settling herself further into Brennan's couch.

'I know. Mausoleum doesn't get many visitors. Personally, I don't blame them. Looking around knowing that decomposing corpses are stuffed behind the walls...' Tony shuddered visibly.

'Which means limited access,' Booth muttered audibly.

'Plenty of time to stuff the bodies inside the crypt. Less people means less suspicion,' McGee pitched in.

'They must have known that that portion of Chief Wallace's crypt would have been vacant,' Brennan contributed, somewhat hesitantly. Booth gave her a small look of surprise – she was usually so sure of herself when it was just the both of them - but then frowned when Tony nodded at her proudly.

'Aha! Inside job,' Tony said, clapping his hands together smartly.

'They would also have to know how to open a sealed tomb,' Ziva pointed out.

'Well, the two guys that did got blown up,' Booth added.

'That narrows down our suspect pool,' Tony retorted, placing his hands on his hips.

'What do you think McGee?' Ziva asked.

'Abby's here,' the younger agent replied quickly. Booth watched with interest as Ziva and Tony swiveled their heads towards the same direction as McGee. Turning his own, Booth saw a woman in knee high platforms practically stomp towards Ducky.

'Why is she so angry?' Brennan questioned. Her hair tickled his palm but Booth made no move to remove his arm. A small part of him liked knowing that she was tangible, next to him. Which was why, he supposed, he always found himself ensuring that some part of him was in contact with her. The hand on the small of her back, their knees brushing against each other under the table – it was proof that she was here beside him, safe and well.

Well, physically at least.

'She had a Chernobyl meltdown today over nougat,' Tony explained. Booth blinked.

'She doesn't like it very much, it seems,' Ziva mentioned.

'I don't understand,' Brennan started. 'Abby's upset because of-'

'Whipped dolphin fat,' Tony said quickly.

'Nougat is made of sugar, honey and-'

'It tastes funny is what I'm saying,' Tony told Brennan. 'Plus, nougat just sounds pretentious. Why can't they just call it cream?'

'Does anyone else see that black cloud over her, or is it just me?' McGee inquired.

'For once, it's not just you,' Tony said, clapping him on the back. 'But right now, we need to hone in on the case McLose-Focus-A lot. I'll deal with Abby later.'

'What's so funny?' Booth asked, hearing Ziva and Brennan let out incredulous laughs. Abby, he noted, was on the platform looking somewhat morosely at Angela.

'Yeah, what is so funny?' Tony demanded, casting his eyes towards the still giggling duo. Booth allowed himself a small smile hearing Brennan giggle. It seemed almost surreal – the serious forensic scientist preferred chuckling or the occasional belly laugh to his knowledge.

'Abby is not like those big-breasted woman who fall all over you,' Ziva finally choked out, trying to compose herself.

'Dealing with angry women requires a great deal of sensitivity. Probie cries like a little girl whenever any kind of anger is directed his way, and you might karate chop them unconscious because they were "being completely unreasonable",' Tony replied, looking pointedly at Ziva towards the end of his sentence.

'I think Tony's sensitive,' Brennan stated. Booth felt his fingers tighten. He could be sensitive. He was pretty sure Brennan had mentioned that she admired his ability to empathize with people on more than one occasion.

'I certainly don't doubt that you have experience with angry women Tony,' McGee said.

'You see, that wasn't sensitive, was it McGee?' Tony observed adroitly.

'And what makes you the expert on women? To my knowledge, I have yet to see you commit yourself to a single one.' Ziva raised an eyebrow, as if throwing down the gauntlet.

'Why Officer David, are you making an offer?'

Ziva simply smirked at Tony, letting out a short bark of laughter.

'Alright, there is one clear cut undeniable reason why I should be the one to talk to Abby. She owes me a dollar,' Tony said definitively. 'Money talks. End of story.'

'That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard,' Ziva rejoined incredulously.

'Dr. Brennan,' Palmer's voice called from the door. 'The bodies are ready for you now.'

'Thank you Jimmy,' Brennan answered. Booth caught Palmer's look of happiness before the intern disappeared towards the platform.

As the others filtered out, Booth caught Brennan by the arm.

'Bones, are we…' Booth struggled to find the words. 'Are we okay?'

Brennan tilted her head, her gaze scrutinizing him as if he were a set of remains.

'I don't know.'

Her words were like a punch to the gut.

'What does that mean?' Booth asked, his words low. Was it his imagination or did he detect a hint of need somewhere in there?

'It means what it means Booth,' Brennan replied, frustration evident. 'Now isn't the time to do this.'

'We have to do this Temperance,' Booth heard himself say. 'We have to talk about this.'

'Eventually.' That one word, from the conversation they had had in his office after the Smithsonian, sent a trickle of relief through him.

'I promise Booth,' Brennan said, her eyes focused on the spot next to his left ear.

'Okay.'

As she walked away Booth couldn't decide if he had won or lost.

But, he reasoned, it was better than nothing.