AN: I can't resist another anthropology-nerd section here at the beginning.

Part 44

When they walked past the roped-off entrance to upcoming exhibits, Brennan started musing about the current project. Colleagues had asked her to review academic papers about the Neanderthal genome, and to consult about portions of the exhibit.

"I've always wanted to study genetics in more detail. And for a project of this magnitude…" Booth smiled at the way her eyes lit up. "Oh, did you know" She launched into a new topic, and he tried to focus on what she was saying, he really did. How the geneticists were taking very old DNA from bones, and how they had to purify it, after contamination with bacteria and fungi…

But he'd had some good wine at dinner, and then danced with his beautiful partner, and the science slid right past him.

Now Bones was talking about the results of that study, and genes that modern people shared with Neanderthals. "The interbreeding probably took place at least 45,000 years ago, but of course that's an estimate. So that today, as we're telling visitors to the exhibit, any person whose ancestral group developed outside of Africa might very well have some Neanderthal DNA in their genome—between one and four percent."

"Uh-huh," Booth said. But this wasn't going over his head. This was about sex. "So…" He nudged her. "Would you still sleep with me if I was a Neanderthal?"

That took her by surprise, and she laughed. But she didn't ask if he was suggesting a scientific impossibility, like time travel. Instead, she eyed him speculatively.

"Well, you do have substantial muscle development and a robust skeletal system, compared to the average human male. In fact, some of your bone structure…" She reached up to trace his brow. "It's slightly reminiscent of the supra-orbital ridges that characterize Neanderthals."

"Hey!" He pulled away with mock indignation.

"It's not an insult. I know some people who would take it as a compliment."

He shook his head, smiling back. "I'm sure you do." She had been complimenting him, in her own bizarre way. And teasing at the same time.

A few steps later he snorted and said, "That Gerard guy was acting like a real caveman. A stereotypical caveman." He clarified, so she wouldn't scold him.

"I think we lost him as a donor, after I snapped at him and you intimidated him."

"Well. The guy had it coming."

"Yes, he did. And even if Cam or one of the directors yells at me for what I said to him, or for leaving early… It was worth it."

-.-.-.-.

Rather than grabbing her stuff and going, Bones got stuck at her desk. She just had to check email, and then of course, found a message to distract her, from a colleague overseas. Booth figured he'd let her read it and reply, unless it was going to take an hour. To kill time, he started to wander the quiet lab.

He'd been looking at all the shiny surfaces for about five minutes, when the main doors opened. Caroline swept in, looking harried.

"Booth, what in God's name are you doing here at this hour? I just called Dr. Saroyan, and told her to contact whichever intern is on duty right now. This—" she held up a document in her hand, "is an order of exhumation for Kendra Edwards." She paused for breath, having reached Booth at the edge of the forensic platform. He recognized the name: a murder victim from several years ago.

"It's the killer's appeal," Caroline grumbled, "so his lawyer wants all the evidence re-examined, and got some judge to sign off on it. I'm telling you, this better not turn out to be the Howard Epps debacle all over again. But at least the man's not on Death Row, so we're not working under a ticking clock. Still, we want to give this a pretty high priority. So, we'll get the poor woman's body in here tonight, but I won't ask all the eggheads to stay into the wee hours examining it." She had pulled out her phone, presumably to check for messages, and frowned at it.

When she glanced up, she seemed to notice Booth's tux for the first time. "You just came from that donor gala thing?"

"Yeah. I'm waiting for Bones." He gestured at her office.

Caroline eyed him appreciatively. "That is a fine looking suit. I'm glad I have your pretty face to look at, even if I did have to drag my sorry self out of bed on this Friday evening."

She might have complained more, but Bones came out of her office carrying some files. They both listened to Caroline describe the work that needed to be done with the remains. She was preoccupied with the case, and seemed to assume that the two of them would jump right on it.

Brennan met Booth's eyes, and he responded for both of them. "Caroline, hold on a second." He reached out, and Bones stepped under his arm. "We're not working murders anymore."

Saying that… it was strangely freeing. Bones must've felt it, too. The faint trace of a smile played around her mouth, that seemed to say, I'm not staying late at the lab tonight. I'm going home with you.

Caroline looked from one to the other. "I know your medical leave's not officially over," she told Brennan, "but are you saying… that you two are finished working together?"

"Yeah," Booth said, "I think we are. Not going into the field, not on murder cases." He glanced at Bones. "Not after what happened."

Caroline's eyes narrowed. She seemed to note how Booth stood with his arm around Brennan's shoulders, and the easy, familiar way Bones was leaning into him.

"Let me get this straight," she said. "You two finally…" Caroline made a vague swirling gesture with her hand. Booth meant to keep his face expressionless, but he must not have succeeded. A moment later the lawyer found her voice again. "You two finally decided to consummate in person what you've been doing with your eyes for years?"

Brennan didn't get it right away. "Sex, Bones," Booth muttered. "Not so literal."

"Oh, for crying out loud!" Now Caroline looked downright disappointed. "I go on vacation for two weeks, then spend another week running around like a madwoman to catch up… And I miss something like this?"

Bones glanced at Booth and murmured, "Does she mean she wanted to watch?"

He coughed, to smother laughter.

Caroline put her hands on her hips, but she was smiling, too. "Am I really the last to know about you two? Don't this just beat all."

"Sorry, Caroline." Booth cleared his throat, then gestured at the legal document she was holding. "Cam and the interns can have this one. We," he gave Bones a squeeze, "are going home."

Caroline's smile drooped down into a pout. "But who's going to help me put all the killers and sociopaths behind bars, now?"

He didn't know how to answer that, but Bones stepped in. "Booth, wait. This is an important case. We shouldn't leave the bone work solely for Mr. Edison. He's very talented, but I should be here to make sure there aren't any mistakes."

"Not tonight," he protested. She wasn't convinced, looking toward the doorway as if anticipating the human remains. "It's late," he said, "and there's no hard deadline. You need a good night's sleep. Come back tomorrow, if you have to, to check the kid's work."

"I suppose you're right." She sighed. "Yes. Let's go home."

"All right," Caroline said reproachfully. "I'll just stay here all by my lonesome, waiting for a dead body to arrive…"

Booth tucked his coat, and Brennan's file folders, under his arm. "Goodnight, Caroline."

He could feel her watching them as they walked toward the sliding glass doors. Apparently, Bones could too. She stopped in the doorway, then glanced up and whispered, "Booth. Pretend we're under mistletoe."

"What?" He felt his mouth turning up at her naughty expression.

"Mistletoe." She tipped her head at Caroline. "I'd like to kiss you now. For no reason."

His smile got wider. "I can live with that."

They leaned into each other, and he captured her lips. She tugged at his lapels, and this time there was no "colleagues, siblings or French people" about it. Bones pressed herself—that magnificent dress—against his chest, while her tongue alternately teased and battled with his own.

Then she let go of his jacket to wrap her arms around him. Her lips moved hungrily against his, and her hands slid lower and lower on his back, until she was nearly—she was—grabbing his ass. In full view of Caroline.

He held onto her hips as hard as he dared, squeezing the firm roundness, and felt her hum against his mouth. When he drew back, panting a little, Bones laughed from sheer high spirits. Then she took his hand and pulled him out the door.

Booth had time for a glance over his shoulder. Caroline stood by the forensic platform, one eyebrow raised in a dazed fashion, while she slowly fanned herself with the legal paper.