AN: The original idea was for three chapters, but this story needed a little more fleshing out to feel more organic for our characters. So, the title doesn;t make as much sense now, but we are going to roll with it. Welcome to Secrets, the part between Attraction and Lust :)
Brennan crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back into the leather seat. It had been a frustrating case. With the joint efforts of her team, they knew the victim was Adam Langer and there was evidence of cannibalism. Hodgins found plant data that could help narrow down the location of the rest of the remains. Booth spoke to Sheriff Scutter and found that one other girl had gone missing recently, possibly pointing to a serial killer. A local park ranger, Sherman, helped them track the bear's path before its death. He was helpful up until they discovered he was a poacher and he took off running in the woods. Booth had not been able to catch him, so the case was temporarily stalled.
Booth suddenly announced that they were going to a local bar, pulling into a parking lot. She had an inkling this was an attempt to regain his alpha male demeanor after losing the suspect. When she saw him carefully tousle his hair and undo the top two buttons on his shirt, she was certain. He caught her looking, and she raised an eyebrow at his actions.
"We're going to a bar, not a meeting. C'mere," he bent towards her over the console. She leaned towards him, curious. Booth tugged at her hair to pull it free from the ponytail holder. He fluffed it around her face and then fingered the collar of her jaket. "Take this off," he said and she eyed him suspiciously, "Trust me."
Brennan shrugged out of her cargo jacket, revealing the dark blue tank top underneath. Booth raked his gaze over her then nodded, apparently satisfied. He got out of the car and opened her door. As she expected, his hand landed on the small of her back as they walked in.
Before they had a chance to get to the bar to order drinks, members of the community bombarded them. Some she had met before, like Dr. Rigby, Dr. Randall, and Charlie, but most were other residents of the small town that had heard the rumors. Booth dismissed all of their questions with increasing agitation. After a few curt replies, he pushed his way through them, grabbing Brennan's hand and towing her along. Normally, Brennan would berate him for this blatant act, but she was just as annoyed with the questions and eager to escape.
"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all," Booth mumbled when they reached the bar. He leaned on the counter. It seemed the only person whose attention they weren't getting was the bartender's.
Brennan scooted up beside Booth. When the bartender saw her, he came right over. "We could use some time outside of the hotel room," Brennan said. The bartender's eyes widened slightly at her words. Booth quickly placed their drink orders and he walked away.
"Good point, Bones." Booth chuckled. "A night out on the town," he said and turned to put his back against the bar.
Out of the corner of her eye, Brennan watched Booth survey the room. He kept clenching his jaw, making his masseter and temporalis muscles twitch. She turned her head to try and see what was bothering him, but nothing looked out of the ordinary. The drink glasses hit the wood behind her. Booth grabbed his and started drinking at a much faster pace than usual.
Brennan noticed his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed, the small motion made more prominent by the unbuttoned top of his blue shirt. His eyes caught her looking. "Why does a bar require your shirt to be less securely fastened?"
"It's a look," he explained, "It shows that I'm relaxed and ready for a good time."
"And what does my outfit portray?" Brennan smoothed the front of her tank top with her hands and looked at him expectedly.
Booth's eyes surveyed her body before slowly coming back to her eyes. "Relaxed," he said, "and ready for a good time."
She could swear that his voice was a few octaves lower, but didn't have time to address it or his repetitive answer. Dr. Rigby appeared at her side, his hand outstretched. He asked for a dance and she accepted. His focus was not on dancing. Instead, he asked her too many questions about the case. When the song ended, she bid him goodnight and steered away from his other inquiries.
Charlie met her before she was off the dancefloor. She obliged to a song with him. Charlie also had the top of his shirt unbuttoned, but his was like that every time she had seen him at the mailing office. The stitching on the cuff of his sleeve was pulled tight across his bicep near where her hand was. His shirt was too small. As they spoke about her tendency to lead when dancing, his eyes kept watching her lips. Several times, she looked over his shoulder and found Booth watching her. He finished his drink and pushed off the bar.
Charlie was reluctant but compliant when Booth tapped him on the shoulder. Brennan fit into his arms easily. She had one arm on his shoulder and another holding his hand as they danced. His other hand stayed securely on her lower back, the same place as when he walked with her. It seemed to fit there, some little space carved out just the right size.
After a few steps, she noticed that he was leading, easily maneuvering around the other couples on the dancefloor. "Where did you learn how to dance?"
"My mother taught me," he said, his voice surprisingly soft. He smiled at her. She felt his hand leave her lower back and he lead her into a spin. Finishing her twirl, he pulled her back in to him. Both of her arms wound around his neck. "She always said it would come in handy with the ladies." He winked.
Brennan laughed. "Are you trying to seduce me?"
Both of his hands slid across her body in answer, finding places on her hips and pulling her flush against his body. "That depends," he whispered dangerously close to her ear, "Is it working?"
Brennan pulled away from him enough to look him in the eyes. "Oh, I see. If I say no, then you can pass it off as if you weren't trying and it won't count as a failure." As she spoke, her fingers played with the short hairs on the back of his neck.
"And if you say yes?" he prodded.
"Then I've given you a signal to advance without you having to climb a tree."
"I think you mean go out on a limb," Booth corrected. His goofy smile was radiant. "Good analysis. But, you're basing it off of the assumption that I actually need you to answer."
"Don't you?" The song must have ended at some point because a different one was playing over the speakers now.
"Nope. You know, I can read people."
His words made her nervous. She didn't quite understand how it worked, how he could tell so much about a person without evidence, but she had seen him do it accurately many times. Now, those dark eyes were looking at her, cataloguing her responses. Brennan attributed his ability to 'read people' to him noticing minute markers in the sympathetic nervous system like pupil dilation, increased heart rate, and dry mouth. He was probably noticing those signs in her now. It was part of an involuntary response. Simply a function of the body. Hormones excreted from the hypothalamus and other regions of her brain causing several chemical reactions. Dopamine and norepinephrine contributed to the euphoric, energetic feeling of attraction. Her biology released the neurotransmitters, synapsing in her brain to cause the desired responses in her nervous system. That was why the flush was in her cheeks and her pulse rate had quickened. Nothing more.
"It's alright," Booth said when she still hadn't spoken. She watched his lips move rather than risking a look into his eyes. "I'd rather hear you admit it." Suddenly, her body was cold and he was walking back to the bar.
Sheriff Scutter elbowed his way in between Booth and Brennan at the bar. He was out of uniform, and his demeanor had changed as well. He wrapped an arm around each of their shoulders, pulling both of them in towards his sweaty body. His breath smelled of alcohol. "Our crime fighting team! Feds and state!"
"How 'bout we solve the case first, huh?" Booth pried off the Sheriff's arm.
Sheriff Scutter waved off his comment and pulled Brennan close to him again. "Another round? On me!" He waved to get the bartender's attention, and Booth fought back a laugh as he watched Brennan use the opportunity to escape his reach.
"Maybe next time!" Brennan said quickly. She was at Booth's side, bumping her hip into his.
He caught her hint, loud and clear. "Yeah, we were just leaving."
They escaped quickly, bursting out the door before the Sheriff knew what was happening. Booth reached for her as they jetted to the rental car, running hand in hand. Brennan slammed the car door shut and collapsed into her seat full of laughter. It was contagious.
"Why did we run?" Booth asked once his laughter subsided.
"Well," Brennan started, giggling once before continuing, "Alcohol consumption affects the nervous system leading to heightened mood and increased risk taking often leading to socially unacceptable behavior."
Booth stared at her, mildly impressed that she could still spill out that brainy mumbo jumbo after so many drinks. "Really, Bones?"
She shrugged her shoulders comically with her arms out and palms facing upwards. It made Booth start laughing again.
The drive back to Evergreen Lodge was short and the mood stayed light. However, Booth was aware of every passing mile and how it brought them closer to their single hotel room. Without more alcohol to keep the buzz going, he quickly began to get nervous. The air in the car felt thick.
In the elevator, the cramped space had the same effect as the car. Booth felt like his collar was too tight, but when he reached up, he was reminded that he had already unbuttoned it before entering the bar. If Brennan was bothered, she wasn't showing it. She stayed within an arm's reach of him, close enough to touch but not venturing to do so. Her shoulders were relaxed, but she didn't make much eye contact with him.
He knew that his words at the bar threw her off of her game. Booth had watched the mild panic reach her eyes when he reminded her that he was good at reading people. She was like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Her body had stiffened under his hands, she couldn't take her eyes off of his lips, and she didn't regain her composure until she had two more drinks. Brennan had a thing for him.
When they entered the hotel room, she went straight to the bathroom without saying anything. Booth worried that he had pushed her too far. For such an intelligent woman who loved knowledge, she was very sensitive of any information about herself. Brennan had to come to her own conclusions.
He removed his shoes, socks, and button down, leaving him in jeans and a white undershirt. Booth pulled two bottles of water from the mini fridge. In case he did make her uncomfortable, he provided an easy distraction by turning on the tv.
A few minutes later, she exited the bathroom in her pajamas. He watched her silently as she moved across the room to sit on the foot of the bed. The news channel displayed the picture of the recently missing woman, Ann Noyes, along with the phone number for the tip line.
"Statistically, you'd imagine we would solve more cases because of tip line information. These alerts run constantly."
Booth shook his head. "People don't like to volunteer the good stuff, Bones."
"The good stuff?" She turned on the bed, facing him and folding her feet under her.
"Right. The juicy bits. The secrets. The lies. Most people only call in little bits of information. You've gotta press them," he pushed the palms of his hands together, "for the stuff that solves crimes."
"The average person is keeping thirteen secrets." Brennan studied him, tilting her head to one side slightly. "How many do you have?"
"I'll tell you one of mine if you tell me one of yours." Booth wiggled his eyebrows, expecting her to shy from the offer.
"I'm familiar with this type of exchange." She continued studying him. He could see her thinking. Her blue eyes were tracing his body, making him feel like one of the skeletons on her table.
"So?" He prodded. "You'll bite?" Her brows furrowed as she interpreted his colloquialism. Booth loved throwing them out there just to watch her decipher the words into something she understood.
"Yes." She paused to scoot along the comforter, sitting right near his elbow. "I find you sexually attractive."
Booth hid his chuckle behind a grin. Of course she would think that was a secret. "I already knew that," he said.
"How? I have not told you previously."
"Maybe not as squinty as you just put it," he said, "but you've told me in other ways." She looked confused. "Remember our first case together?" He continued after she nodded. "You asked if I was single. After I fired you, you pointed out that that meant we could have sex. We kissed outside the pool hall!" He laughed heartily. "You wouldn't do that if you thought I was ugly."
Brennan thought for a minute before nodding. "Your evidence is anecdotal, but since I was there, I also know it's factual."
"There's also when we were dancing tonight," he continued, enjoying the flush that was darkening her cheeks. "And how you've been staring at my biceps since you came out of the bathroom."
"I get your point, Booth." Her words held no force. "But, all of your evidence also points to you finding me sexually attractive."
"It does. I do." He reached out a hand and set it on her knee. "You're beautiful, Bones. I've never thought otherwise." He saw her throat move as she swallowed. Doing the same, he was reminded of the alcohol they had both consumed earlier in the night and switched to a lighter tone. "So, I'd understand if you wanted to share the bed tonight." He winked.
Brennan set her hand on top of his. She smiled slyly before getting up. "Goodnight, Booth."
AN: Please review and let me know how you feel about T vs. M rating. Lust, coming up!