A/N: Thank you all so, so, so, much for the reviews, alerts, ect. I know it sounds kind of unenthusiastic, but that's only because I'm exhausted, and just wanted to get this chapter out before I went to sleep, since I made you all wait so long already. xD So excuse any errors, please. =] Sorry about the wait, school's pretty hectic, but I'm already getting used to it a little. It's the waking up that's tough for me. xD

In this chapter, you all get to see a darker side of Booth. I've always had a thing for the badass Booth, like when he's yelling at the guy from Mara Meurte in 'The Woman In The Garden' (or something along those lines) in the interrogation room. *drools* xD So anyways, here.

Chapter Thirty-Six:

"I Don't Love Sully"

Booth's mind was running through everything that just happened in Sweets' office, trying to figure out if there could have been a misunderstanding or something along those lines. Even though Sweets was only trying to help, he couldn't help but be angry at the psychiatrist. The only thing that pulled him out of his thoughts was the ping of his phone. When he saw the message was from Brennan, he contemplated ignoring it, but decided to read it anyway, since he still wasn't sure if Sweets was right about the affair or if he was just guessing.

We need to talk. Urgent. Stay at work. I'm coming.

As soon as he read the text, Booth pressed Brennan's number on speed dial to call her, huffing as the phone rang on the other end, stepping into his office so he didn't cause a scene in the middle of the Hoover building.

"Brennan," her voice came in through the speaker of his phone, sounding perfectly calm and serene, as if nothing was wrong.

"Bones!" He exclaimed, taking her back a little bit, "are you in the car?"

"No, not yet," Brennan answered, glancing at Angela as she spoke to Booth, "but I will be in a minute. Just, go into your office or something. I'm coming to speak with you."

"Oh, no you're not," Booth told her, sternly, a small, bitter, laugh leaving his lips as he spoke, "I'll talk to you at your place, but do not step a toe out of that house."

"I'm already at the diner," she said innocently, quickly correcting herself when there was a lingering silence on the other end of the phone, "with Angela."

"Angela does not count as protection!" He exclaimed, the annoyance of her leaving the house alone only increased by what Sweets just informed him of, "Christ, Bones!" Booth stepped out of his office, making his way hastily out of the building to go get his SUV, "if you're sitting by the window, move. And don't leave the diner. I'm on my way there."

"Booth, I can take care of myself," she reminded him, " no one is going to kill me in the Royal Diner, especially when I'm accompanied by someone."

"People don't have a problem shooting through the windows," he told her, his voice sharp, piercing through her, "remember where I was when someone shot at Russ and I through the window? So just, move away from the window, Bones. I'm so pissed at you right now."

"Well, why are you shouting at me?" Brennan asked, trying to keep her voice at a normal volume, ignoring the comment about Booth and Russ getting shot at.

"Because you don't listen," he practically hissed, slamming the door of his SUV behind him before he jammed the keys in the ignition, "don't move. I'll be there in ten minutes."

"If you gave me a gun we wouldn't have this problem," she pointed out.

"I'm not having this argument with you."

"It's not an argument, it's just a simple-"

Brennan stopped talking when she glanced at the screen of her phone, seeing that the call was ended. Feeling internally hurt, she closed her phone and put it back in her purse, growing abnormally quiet as she picked up her purse to move to a different table.

"What happened?" Angela asked, following Brennan to a table a little further out of sight from the windows.

"He hung up on me," Brennan mumbled, her fingers tracing over a pattern in the table, "I don't understand why he gets so angry."

"He's not mad at you," Angela assured her, "he just wants to protect you."

"But I don't need protecting," Brennan sighed, "I am not an invalid, nor do I lack the skills to fight people off. I've taken several self defense classes and I'm trained in Martial Arts. I've been to Iraq, and Rwanda, Ange. I'm not afraid of a street gang."

"You should be," Angela told her, her eyes completely serious, "just because there are people more dangerous than them, doesn't mean that they're a joke. They're one of the most violent gangs in the area, Bren. And you did punch their 'leader' in the face."

"Because he touched me," she defended, "I wasn't just going to let him touch me. And, besides, I have no respect for gang members, especially the ones that try to frighten people into doing what they want. Didn't I explain this to you already?"

"I know, Brennan, but I'm just explaining to you that this isn't something you should take lightly," Angela kept her voice soft, making sure Brennan didn't feel like she and Booth were ganging up on her, "and Booth, he's only trying to help. He yells because he cares."

"Well I don't appreciate it," she brushed off his concern for her, "somebody should inform him that raising his voice doesn't solve anything."

Angela just sighed and shook her head, knowing that Brennan was too stubborn to ever admit that she may be wrong. They sat for a little while in silence before Booth came into the diner, searching for Brennan and Angela, making his way quickly over to them once he saw them sitting quietly and awkwardly at a table in the back.

"Hey, Booth," Angela greeted him cutely, trying to brighten his mood, even though she could tell by the look on his face that doing that wouldn't be an easy task, "you're looking handsome today."

"Today?" Booth asked, playfully, although his voice made no indication of it as he grabbed Brennan's arm gently, "come on, Bones."

Brennan tugged her arm out of his hand, flashing him a semi dirty look as she smoothed down her blouse and picked her bag up off the floor.

"I'll talk to you later, Ange," she told her, tossing some money on the table to pay for her share of their lunch, before she walked out of the diner, taking notice to how Booth quickened his pace when she quickened hers, to make sure he stayed a few steps in front of her.

They walked to the SUV in an awkward silence, neither of them speaking a word when the reached it and opened the door, Booth getting in on the driver's side and Brennan getting in on the passenger's side. The silence continued when Booth started the car and pulled out of the parking lot, neither of them speaking about the big concerns looming over their heads. Brennan was considering it, but when he didn't speak, she thought maybe Sweets hadn't told him. And she knew if she brought it up, it'd only make her look guilty.

"What did you and Sweets talk about?" Brennan finally broke the silence when the tension seemed to fill every inch of the SUV.

Booth glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, slightly surprised by the sound of her voice when it pulled him out of his own mind.

"Nothing," he lied, his right hand holding the steering wheel as he shrugged with his left shoulder, "you know Sweets. He just needed some 'guy advice'. He didn't want you to come because he was embarrassed."

"Of what?" Brennan asked, not completely buying into his lie.

"Well it's not really my place to tell you," Booth reminded her, "like I said, he was embarrassed. And if I tell you, you'll blurt something out in therapy and he'll think I gossip like a teenage girl, which I don't."

"I won't say anything," she promised, "is he ashamed of his size? Because, girls really don't care all that much about-"

"Woah, woah, Bones," Booth yelled over her, cutting her off before she could finish her sentence, "no. Just, no. We're not going to talk about, that, okay? Anything but that."

"I don't know why you get so flustered when that subject comes up," Brennan said, as if that were completely irrational, "it finally got to the point where I can say the word 'sex' and you don't blush, but now, whenever I try to speak with you about size, you act like it's something terrible. It's a completely natural subject, Booth. You, of all people, shouldn't be embarrassed to talk about it. You, excel, in that area. You're almost as big as Sully."

"Jeez!" He exclaimed, his face burning as he shifted uncomfortably in the driver's seat, praying that the traffic they were stuck in would just disappear, "Bones!"

Booth had to focus his attention on making sure she didn't pick up on his irritation towards the fact that she'd brought up Sully. He was trying to give her the benefit of the doubt, convincing himself that Sweets was mistaken, but she was making it increasingly harder.

"What?" She asked, defensively, "I'm just saying, size is not the only thing that is important to a woman. For example, you aren't as big as Sully, but I believe that you are a much better partner than he is."

"For the love of God," he mumbled, closing his eyes, since the cars in front of him weren't moving anyway.

"Booth, that was a compliment," she informed him, "you have a way of pleasuring me with your eyes, and your voice, which is something I never experienced with Sully, despite his size, and despite how amazing he was in bed. I never enjoyed tenderness or softness when it came to sexual intercourse, but with you, it's different. I like it with you. It feels right with you. And plus, you give me the best of both worlds. When I want gentle, I can get it, but you also have a playful and rough side, which I greatly admire."

By this point, they were at a complete stand still, and Booth had taken both his hands off the steering wheel, one arm on the arm rest between them, and one propped against the window. Brennan, getting a jittery feeling in her stomach from only her own words, ran her fingers carefully over his arm, which was still covered with his work clothes. Slightly irritated at the barrier between their skin, she pushed the sleeve of his jacket and dress shirt up to reveal the black ink of his tattoo, and pressed a soft kiss to the ink.

"Bones," he groaned in irritation, not feeling in the mood for her affection after his 'session' with Sweets, "I'm driving."

"No you're not, you might as well have the car in park," Brennan pointed out, pressing her lips back to his wrist after she spoke.

"That's not the point," he told her, taking his arm gently back from her to put his hand back on the steering wheel when the traffic finally started to inch forward, "I'm still operating a motor vehicle, which means I have to watch the road, unless you want to get into an accident."

Brennan crossed her arms over her chest, and stayed completely silent for the rest of the ride, a little surprised when Booth didn't even attempt to fill the silence at any point throughout the rest of the drive back to his house. She squinted her eyes slightly as she examined his expression once they pulled up into his driveway, and he removed the keys from the ignition, shoving them back into his pocket before he opened the door and stepped out of the car. Opening her own door, Brennan got out and followed close behind him, not speaking a word until they were back in his house, and she'd shut the front door behind her.

"You're angry with me," she observed, placing her purse on the floor.

"I'm not," he promised, arching his shoulders to stretch them out now that he was out of the car and back in his house, "I'm just," he searched for an excuse, "tired."

"That's probably because we had very draining intercourse this morning. And by draining, I mean thoroughly satisfying and passionate."

"Christ, Bones, you're very, obsessive, today," he pointed out, the word 'obsessive' sounding a lot more harsh than he meant it, "maybe that wasn't the best word choice, but I don't really know how else to explain it. Have you stopped thinking about sex at all today?"

"Well I was barely awake for five minutes before we had intercourse again," she accused, not giving him a 'yes' or 'no' answer, "one second, I'm sleeping, and then the next second, you're on top of me again, and we're engaging in sexual intercourse while I'm on the phone."

"Don't even pretend you didn't want to," Booth had to laugh bitterly at how she was trying to turn this around on him.

"I did want to," she confirmed, "but you couldn't have waited three seconds for me to get off the phone?"

"No," he said honestly, his voice flat, "because you picked up the phone when it was very clear that we were about to 'get down', and I wasn't going to pause so you could have a nice conversation. So I just decided to take matters into my own hands and go about our business."

"By initiating intercourse when I wasn't paying attention?"

Booth stepped closer to her, his expression stone cold as he stared her in the eyes. Brennan bit int inside of her lip, feeling slightly intimidated, but slightly turned on by his darkness when he looked so seriously at her. Taking a step back, she pressed her back against the wall, submitting to the broad man standing over her.

"Are you complaining?" He asked, in a husky voice, that made Brennan's cheeks burn.

"Maybe I am," Brennan said, suggestively, even though she had to swallow the lump that rose in her throat before she did, feeling a mixture between nervous and aroused.

She gasped a little when he easily, and less than gently, grabbed her face with just one hand. His thumb pressed hard against the left side of her jaw bone as his four other fingers practically squeezed the right side, forcing the top of her hair to brush against the wall when he tilted her face up slightly to look at him. Brennan could feel her heart pounding in her chest in response to his roughness. With most people, she'd be afraid if they grabbed her roughly by the mandible, but with Booth, it turned her on. The slight pain from the pressure against her sensitive jaw was arousing to her, as she let out a soft whimper and embraced the feeling.

"You like this?" He asked, "do you like when I play rough with you, Temperance? Does Sully do this when you two take each other on his kitchen counter, or in the back of his car? When you two have hot, meaningless, sex?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Brennan squeaked, her breathing hitching when he closed the small gap between their bodies, his chest pressing to hers, and his hand still clutching her face, "I don't love Sully," she whimpered in pleasure when his grip on her jaw tightened, "I love you, Booth."

She wasn't sure why she loved this dark side of Booth. The sensation of his thumb pressing hard against the left side of her mandible was one that she was growing to very thoroughly enjoy, while most people wouldn't have enjoyed it at all. She longed for him to squeeze her tighter, press his body closer to hers, even though it was as close as it was going to get. She only gasped loudly when his lips hungrily claimed hers, releasing her face to cup it roughly between his hands, his kisses not as gentle as they normally were, his tongue attempting to shove between her lips, as opposed to waiting for her to grant it access. She parted her lips, their tongues fighting for dominance in the kiss before Booth pulled away, only to take a breath and crash his lips roughly back against hers.

"Seeley," she moaned into his mouth, when she felt his hand slide up her pencil skirt and caress the skin of her inner thigh softly and teasingly, "please, Booth. I-I-...please"

Brennan took his hand and attempted to help him navigate his way further up her leg, but only let out a frustrated growl when his hand left her leg all together.

"You're right, Temperance," he growled against her lips, sandwiching her between his body and the wall, to the point where she had no escape route.

"About what?" She asked, snaking her fingers into his hair as they kissed.

When Booth didn't answer her right away, she gave a rough tug at the dark locks, only causing him to growl again and bite her bottom lip, not as soft as usual, but still softly. Brennan struggled for her breath, giving a whimper of protest when his lips left hers and his hand wandered away from her thigh, her body trembling when he pressed his forehead to hers, listening to her ragged breathing, which was in sync with his at this point. She gave a final tug at his hair before she moved her hands down, untucking his dress shirt and slipping her hands under it to press against the warm skin of his abdomen, hearing a small groan from his throat when she raked her fingernails across the skin.

"I am mad at you," he told her, answering her question, "I am so mad at you. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't go get your bag of clothes, and put them out on the porch?"

"Because you are being irrational," she dug her fingernails hard into his skin, only causing another groan, as opposed to the pain she was aiming for, "I haven't done anything."

"You're a genius, Bones," he reminded her, his fingers subconsciously slipping up her shirt as well, only lightly running the tips of his fingers over her soft, creamy, skin, "I'm not going to believe you when you play dumb. I'm not as stupid as you think."

"I'm not playing dumb," she growled, arching into him as best she could, moaning from a mixture of everything she was feeling at the moment.

"Sure you are, Temperance," Booth growled right back at her, his ever present 'cocky' belt buckle digging into her hip as he held her against the wall, and he felt her reaching for it, only to slide one hand out of her shirt and swat hers away from the red metal.

Brennan had just touched the little white rooster before his hand swatted at hers, chasing it away from the dangerous territory as her breath caressed his lips.

"Tell me what I did, Seeley," she hissed, her eyes burning through his, "tell me what I did, or I swear, I will walk out that door right now, and never come back."

Booth leaned up, earning another whimper of protest from Brennan at the lack of body contact, as she slid her hands out of his shirt and he grabbed her by the wrists, pinning her back to the wall by her small wrists, but not stepping as close this time.

"It's more something I have to ask you, rather than tell you," his voice was dark, as she submitted under his strong hands, waiting for the question, as she squirmed slightly, moaning softly in anticipation, only to be stopped in her tracks when he threw out the question, "how long have you been banging Sully behind my back?"