A/N: I'm sorry for leaving you hanging like that. My outline keeps expanding as I fill in details of the plot. Apparently, deciding how many sections will fit into a chapter during outline stage is not my forte. Here is chapter twelve. Thirteen is written and I've read through it a couple of times, but you're not getting it until fourteen is roughed out a little more. :D


"Oh! Sorry!" Angela said, slapping her hand over her eyes before she realized who she'd just walked in on. "Are… oh my god." She muttered, quickly closing the door and pressing her back to it. "Are you two kidding me right now?" She demanded, glancing over to take a peek at Booth's cute butt.

"Ange, it's—" Brennan started, and Angela laughed out loud, halting Brennan's weak explanation.

"Oh it is exactly what it looks like. Don't you dare try that with me." She laughed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Booth, you have something on your shirt." She said, pointing at the nervous man tucking his dress shirt back into his pants.

"Shit." He muttered. "Angela…" he started, looking like a terrified feral animal. Poor little raccoon. Horny little trash panda. She was going to let him stew for a few more minutes, so she smirked at him as he tried to dab water on what she only assumed was some kind of bodily fluid.

"Are you just going to stand there and watch us get dressed?" Brennan asked as she looked around the floor for something.

Angela laughed again and nodded. "Absolutely."

"Ange you're not gonna…" Booth started again, his eyes wide and anxious. Good. He should be fucking pissing his damn pants.

"I wouldn't do that to Bren, Booth." She told him, raising a brow at him, so he understood Brennan was the only reason she was keeping her mouth shut. If she'd walked in on Booth with someone else, she'd probably keep her mouth shut for him too, if she were being honest with herself, but seeing him do this to Brennan when they both knew it would probably destroy her? He deserved to sweat it out.. One little mess up was one thing, but now he was screwing her in bar bathrooms and then what? Going home to his girlfriend? Unacceptable, and if Brennan wasn't going to be pissed off by it, someone had to.

"Where are my underwear?" Brennan asked, looking around again.

Booth had the decency to blush at least as his eyes went wide and he pulled a tattered piece of black lace out his back pocket. "Unbelievable." Angela muttered, snatching the lace from his hand. "That's a sure fire way to get murdered by your girlfriend." She added, shoving the panties into her own jeans pocket.

"Bones, I, uh–" Booth stammered, clearly the gravity of what they'd just done was catching up as the blood returned to his topside brain.

"Listen, hurry it up and make your exit before I take off my pants too. Some of us actually came in here to pee, and you have about 30 seconds before I just go ahead and do it, whether you've still got Little Booth in your hand or not." she said, putting on her best look of disapproval.

"It wasn't little." Brennan smirked, receiving a disapproving look from Booth and Angela.

"Not the time, Sweetie." Angela told her softly and Booth moved toward the door, glancing back at Brennan with a pained expression. She moved to the side and let Booth leave, waving off his muttered apologies, but stepped back in front of Brennan and looked directly into her eyes. "This–" she waved her hand absently in the air. "- it doesn't end well, Brennan. Not for you." she warned her.

"Angela, it was one time, we– we were upset, and it just happened." Brennan defended herself, and Angela nodded, though she wasn't sure even Brennan knew yet that this was probably not going to be the last time something like this 'just happened' between her and Booth.

"I love you, Bren. Please protect this." she told her gently, tapping her finger on Brennan's chest directly over her heart before moving out of the way and allowing her friend to pass.


Brennan walked quickly to the table, seeing Booth already seated again, swallowing back a shot of something. "I'm leaving now." she announced, reaching awkwardly over Sweets to grab her purse and jacket from the back of her chair. "Goodnight." she said, not waiting for any responses. She didn't care if she'd been abrupt or terse.

"I'll give you a ride." Booth announced, throwing some cash down on the table and getting up from his seat to the sound of their friends complaining that they hadn't even stayed that long.

"I'm fine. I can take a cab." She told him, pulling on her coat and walking toward the door. She heard him following her, despite her insistence that she didn't need a ride, but she didn't look back, continuing out of the bar and onto the street.

"Bones, let me take you home." He insisted, coming to stand next to her as she looked for a cab on the busy street. They were usually parked all up and down this strip, waiting for patrons to come out in need of a ride. Why weren't there any now, when she needed a quick escape.

"I'm fine." She muttered, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I'm not." Booth's voice became lower as he stood even closer to her, his shoulder brushing against hers. "I'm not fine." He repeated, and she finally turned to look at him. "Let me give you a ride."

"I believe you just did." She quipped, raising an eyebrow at him and watching with satisfaction as his face flushed, and he shifted uncomfortably before he finally smirked at her.

"Cute." He muttered. "You've been really good with the witty retorts lately. You find a book of comebacks?" He asked, chuckling sardonically. "Terrible timing for you to become funny, by the way." He added.

"I've always been funny." She defended, waving at a cab as it zipped past her. She groaned, irritated that it didn't stop. Tugging her jacket tighter around her as a cold wind blew through her hair. "What are you doing?" She asked when he gripped her shoulders, turning her toward him and rubbing his hands up and down her arms.

"You're cold." He murmured, standing entirely too close. Perhaps, too close for normal friends, but this was Booth and people were used to them being almost inappropriately affectionate. She tried to rationalize that anyways. They'd kept their distance in this regard since returning to DC. "Let me take you home, baby." He whispered, and she closed her eyes, fighting the urge to grab his face and kiss him in the street. Had he meant to call her that? To be so infuriatingly affectionate? Perhaps, it was simply a Freudian slip brought on by their recent release of copious amounts of oxytocin, but it sent a chill down her spine completely unrelated to the wind. How did he have so much power over her emotional state?

"And then what?" She asked, her traitorous mouth getting ahead of her brain. Could they go back to her place and continue what they'd started? He was with Hannah, Hannah who was good for him and provided him with whatever it was that Brennan couldn't. Was Booth rational enough to compartmentalize their sexual encounter? Would he be able to see it as just a sexual encounter?

Would she?

It was just sex. Good, very satisfying, albeit rushed, sex, but it was sex. Sex with a friend. It wasn't like she'd never done that before. She'd had sex with a number of her friends and even colleagues. She'd had sex with Andrew recently, and they'd been able to maintain their professional working relationship. Although, he did seem to stare at her for long stretches during the meeting regarding Broadsky that he'd joined the team for. She'd made every effort to be polite and friendly. Perhaps he misunderstood the signals.

"And then…" Booth started, stroking her arms in a slower motion that seemed less about warmth than it had initially. "We have a long conversation and figure out how we fix this… how we navigate this back to where we're supposed to be, Bones." He continued, his eyes searching hers. "Bones, we can't keep doing this." He said, his voice sounding pained. Of course, he would struggle with this. His conscience was probably in turmoil. He was probably struggling both morally and religiously with what they had done.

"Booth… it was sex. If you didn't enjoy it, just say so." She told him, extricating herself and waving down the approaching cab. If he needed an out from this, she'd give him one. "We've both been drinking." She added, though she knew she'd only had half a glass of wine, and he could certainly manage more than the two scotches he'd consumed.

"Bones, you know that's not what I was saying." He told her, and she opened the cab door. He grabbed it, stopping her from closing it as she sat down in the backseat. "We need to talk about this." He added, and she shook her head.

"We don't. It's fine. I'll see you on Monday." She told him, yanking the door closed and giving the driver her address. She glanced through the back window in time to see Booth turning and walking toward his SUV, his shoulders slumped and his hands shoved into his pockets.


Booth crept into his apartment like a thief in the night and wondered when he'd become this guy. How was he the scumbag sneaking around his own home? He'd always been proud of himself for being the furthest thing from this, but he suddenly understood how it could happen. He wasn't a bad guy, but he was doing some pretty awful shit to two women that he claimed he loved. Maybe he wasn't the man he'd always prided himself to be.

He walked quietly into the bathroom, peeking his head into the bedroom only briefly to spy Hannah fast asleep, curled up on her side of the bed.

He did love them. Both of them. He'd tried to rationalize it as he turned on the shower and watched the small space fill with steam. How was that even possible? He loved them so much, he was destroying them all. Yea, that was fucking love. Idiot.

He scrubbed his body roughly, as if somehow he'd be able to erase everything he'd done. He tried to rationalize what had happened. It wasn't like it was premeditated. They hadn't planned to have sex. He scrubbed harder, realizing he sounded like a complete piece of shit, standing in the shower trying to justify screwing his best friend in a bathroom, and cheating on his girlfriend. He had to stop it. They had to just go back to being friends and partners. It's not like they'd never toed that line before. They'd almost slept together seven years ago, and they were able to get beyond that and have a normal partnership.

Almost was a little different than actually, but they could do this. He couldn't keep hurting Bones like this, and even if she wasn't aware of it, he knew he was hurting Hannah too. Fuck, he was hurting himself too. Cam had warned him about this, about having his cake and eating it too.


Brennan cleared her throat and tried to look as busy as possible when Angela entered her office and closed the door. She was quite confident, with almost 100% certainty, that Angela wanted to discuss what she'd walked in on on Friday night at the Founding Fathers. Brennan had done her best to make herself incredibly busy all weekend. Avoiding calls and texts due to poor service in bone storage. She hadn't actually been in bone storage the entire time, but she'd decided it was an excellent excuse should her lack of communication be brought up in conversation.

"Bren, what is going on with you?" Angela asked, seating herself gingerly in the chair across from Brennan. "Sweetie, I am asking because I am concerned." she continued when Brennan simply continued typing on her computer keyboard.

Brennan sighed, tilting her head to the side and finally making eye contact with her friend. "Nothing is going on, Ange. I'm simply feeling, in the vernacular, libidinous and I'm finding work stressful, so I am engaging in sexual intercourse with a friend in order to alleviate the matter." She told her frankly. "This is not new." she added, because it wasn't. It was in fact more uncommon for her to not have a friend or two lined up for precisely those problems.

"First of all, libidinous is not vernacular; horny is. Second, it's different because it's Booth." Angela commented. "You guys are in love with each other, and instead of dealing with those feelings, you're just fucking in bar bathrooms and eventually, you're going to get caught by someone who isn't me, and it is going to blow up in your face." she continued on, ranting in a harsh whisper.

"We're not… he's not in love with me. We're moving on." She insisted, though even to her own ears, her words sounded hollow.

"Right…" Angela responded with a sarcastic tone and a dubious expression. "So he's just going to stay with Hannah then? After what happened on Friday night?" She challenged.

"Booth loves Hannah. He wants to be with Hannah. He and I, we're just– enjoying an evolution of our previously existing close relationship." She tried to sound as practical as possible, but she barely believed it herself.

She did still have feelings for Booth. They didn't just go away overnight, and a part of her knew he'd stay with Hannah, but she did it anyway. Brennan just wasn't the long-term relationship type, and Hannah was, but it didn't mean she couldn't indulge in a little bit of pretending with Booth once in a while.

Only… she'd been thinking that perhaps she could be the long-term relationship type… with Booth.

"So, you're just going to, what, satisfy your biological urges with Booth, and he's going to keep going home to the little wife?" Ange asked disdainfully, crossing her arms over her chest and raising her brows. She acted like she knew everything. Perhaps, she knew enough.

Brennan scoffed, crossing her own arms. "She's not his wife. They're not married…" she replied weakly, frowning at the mere thought of Booth being married to someone. That was an unwelcome image.

"Brennan!" Angela snapped. "This is just like before, when you wanted to have Booth's baby without actually having Booth. You can't just have a piece of him. He's not that kind of guy, and you are not the woman who skulks around like someone's dirty little secret. This is going to catch up with you both, and when it does, it is going to KILL you both." Brennan frowned, how could sex kill them? "Metaphorically. It is going to hurt. It is going to destroy your friendship, your partnership. It will destroy this team, which is exactly what you wanted to avoid when you turned him down, is it not?"

Brennan swiped angrily at the single tear that traitorously escaped her eye, daring to roll down her cheek and leave a hot streak in its wake. "I have work to do." she spoke, clearing her throat and trying to keep the trembling from her voice.

"I love you, Bren, and I want nothing more than to see you and Booth happy, especially if it means together, but he is with someone. This is the last I'm going to say about the matter. You're a big girl. You can make your own decisions. I just want to know you're going to be ok." she told her, and Brennan sighed loudly.

"Nobody can know what the future holds, Ange." she reasoned, changing the subject, but Angela knew her well enough and rolled her eyes, hauling herself up out of the low chair. "Ange?" Brennan called as her friend reached the door. Ange turned and looked back in question. "I love you too." Brennan told her softly. "You're going to be an excellent mother."

"Now who's predicting the future?" Angela asked with a soft smile before she turned and left Brennan alone with her thoughts.

The entire situation was frustrating. She knew Angela wouldn't have been singing her praises for this, but she'd expected at least a little bit of that girl talk. Brennan desperately wanted to tell Ange about the sex, but it seemed the wrong time for it. She had only just reopened her report file on her computer when her phone rang, and she sighed irritably, reaching for the device. Her heart rate increased at the sight of Booth's name on the caller ID, and she quickly answered.

"Brennan." She answered, trying to sound casual and professional. She hadn't spoken to him since Friday night when she got in the taxi and drove off.

"Hey Bones. You, uh, wanna come question a witness with me?" He asked, and she felt herself feeling grateful for the break in the case to give them something to focus on.

"Yes, that would be acceptable. Will you pick me up?" She asked, listening as he told her he'd be there within the hour. She wondered if perhaps they were going to be fine, to be able to work together like they used to without the tension looming over them. Perhaps, they simply needed to get it out of their systems to be able to work together again. It was logical, though she wouldn't say no to doing it again, that was for damn sure.


The ride over to meet Broadsky's girlfriend, Paula Ashwaldt, had been entirely professional again. Booth briefed her on their history, about how she had been one of twelve people Broadsky saved while she was serving as a US Marshall in Afghanistan.

"But he saved twelve people. That— that's good, right?" Brennan had asked, confused as to why Booth was so agitated. "That's the same thing you did as a sniper." She added, and this seemed to only further provoke his ire.

Perhaps, he needed to have more sex.

"He shot without the command, Bones. He made the choice himself. Just like he's doing now. We— we don't get to make that call." Booth corrected her, his tone was cold and impatient.

She had learned long ago that her inability to comprehend certain basic notions about the human condition and the questions she often posited as a result were not typically received with patience, so she'd eventually stopped asking. Booth had made it clear early on that he had the patience for her, whether he'd meant to do it or not. She'd never felt like her queries were unwelcome. Not until now.

He was misunderstanding her, like everyone else. He thought that she was comparing him to Broadsky, putting them on the same moral compass. She'd simply wanted to understand.

After speaking with Paula, they returned to his SUV, even more agitated than they had been during the drive over. They'd asked Paula if she'd seen Jacob, spoken to him recently.

"She's fucking lying." Booth muttered, as he started the SUV. "She's definitely had contact." He added.

"How can you tell?" She asked, genuinely curious as to what he'd seen in her that told him that Paula was being disingenuous.

"It's what I do, Bones. I can tell these things. I don't question your science, don't question my gut." He'd snapped, and she worked her jaw awkwardly, wondering what to say to that.

"She didn't seem to believe us when we told her Broadsky had murdered an innocent woman simply because he needed to use her apartment for the correct vantage point." Brennan pointed out. "Do you think she was being disingenuous about that?" She asked, wondering again what it was that he saw in Paula that told him what she'd been thinking.

Booth shook his head as they pulled out of the parking lot. "No. I don't think she knew about it, but I think once she'd heard us say it out loud, she probably knew Jake was capable of it." He explained, and Brennan nodded. "Not sure how someone can be so fucking delusional though. You live with the guy, spend every day with him, and you have no idea what he was up to?" He muttered testily.

Brennan had opened her mouth to point out that Hannah lived with him and she didn't know everything that Booth had been doing lately, but it seemed prudent to keep that thought to herself. "Do you think, perhaps, she simply didn't want to see it?" Brennan asked instead, and Booth nodded.

"Yea, I mean, people see what they want to see, Bones. I think— I think when you're that close to someone, you subconsciously turn a blind eye to certain things that they do. You make up excuses for their behavior to make sense as something innocent even though you know deep down what the truth is." He told her quietly, and she wondered if they were still talking about Jacob and Paula.

"Thank you for taking me with you." Brennan said as she reached for her door to exit the SUV.

Booth looked over at her with a half smile. "Yea, Bones. I mean, we're partners, right?" He asked, his face softer than it had been since she'd gotten into his car.

"Yes." She agreed, swallowing around a lump in her throat. "Partners." She nodded firmly, offering him a tight smile before climbing out of the car and walking briskly back into the lab.


Booth tossed the note from Hannah saying she wouldn't be home tonight back onto the coffee table and reclined on the couch. He flipped the TV on as his thoughts rolled around about Hannah and Bones, about Broadsky and his clueless girlfriend. He replayed the conversation with Bones in the car, wondering how she could ever think he and Broadsky were the same. Talk about cluelessness. It hit him in that moment what he'd misunderstood. He'd done to her what every other asshole had ever done. He'd completely misunderstood her questions as an accusation.

Grabbing his phone, he quickly dialed her number and then hung up again before it could ring through. Hesitating for only a moment, he dialed again. Screw it. They were friends. He could call her to talk at eleven o'clock without it meaning something weird.

"Brennan." Fuck. She sounded sleepy.

"Hey, Bones. It's me." He shot for casual, ignoring the fact that he'd probably woken her up.

"Do we have a case?" She asked, sounding much clearer now. He could hear her starting to shuffle around in her bed.

"No!" He told her, speaking so quickly he almost yelled. He'd just wanted to catch her before she got out of the comfortable warmth of her bed. She didn't get enough sleep as it was. "No case, Bones. I'm sorry for waking you." He added softly, listening to the dull shuffling again. She was probably pulling her blankets back over onto her lap and sitting up a little more.

"Are— are you ok?" She asked hesitantly, and he realized he'd just been sitting there listening to her breathe and move around in her bed for several seconds.

"Yea, Bones. I'm fine. I just, uh, I wanted to apologize for earlier." He explained, leaning back into the plush cushions of his couch. "For snapping at you. I guess I wasn't very patient today, and that wasn't your fault." He added, feeling a little better already.

"I'm sorry for comparing you to Broadsky, Booth." She replied. Leave it to Bones to hijack his apology, he thought with humor. "I hope you know that I don't think what you've done is anything like what he's doing now." She explained, and he could hear the honesty in her voice. She knew of a great many things he'd done.

"I think it— it bothered me so much because you're one of the only people who know the extent of what I've done, Bones, so you know, your opinion of me, it's— it's an educated one and, uh, you know sometimes I worry that maybe I'm too tarnished and fucked up and that maybe you'll figure it out someday." He confessed quietly a thought that had plagued him since the first time he'd told her even a tiny morsel of information about his past as a sniper.

"That's ridiculous, Booth. I figured out a long time ago how tarnished and fucked up you are." She told him frankly, and he couldn't help but chuckle. "I don't like it when you're upset with me, though." She confessed in a quieter tone, and his heart ached.

"I don't like being upset with you." He confessed right back. "I'm just really glad we, uh, you know today felt like… like things were normal again between us." He added, struggling to say the words in the right way.

She hummed sleepily, and he wondered what she was thinking. "I can't imagine my life without you in it, Booth." She murmured. He smiled, realizing she was falling asleep.

"You never have to, Bones. I'm not going anywhere, all right?" He assured her, though he knew they both knew he couldn't make that promise. The seven months away from each other was proof enough that he couldn't make that promise.

When she didn't answer, he wondered if she'd fallen asleep again. "Booth." She murmured so quietly he almost wasn't sure if she was awake or mumbling in her sleep.

"Yea, Bones." He replied just as softly. "Am I so boring that you're falling asleep on me now?" He asked with a smirk and listened as she sighed and made that cute little hmmm-ing sound again.

"I just like listening to the sound of your voice." She confessed sleepily.

"I like the sound of your voice too." He responded quietly, closing his eyes and picturing her, cuddled down in her bed, her hair fanning out over the pillows, her eyes closed and those endlessly long lashes fluttering against her beautiful skin. His imagination started picturing her in something slinky with spaghetti straps before he smirked, reminding himself of how much sexier it was to see her in his sweats. "What are you wearing?" His mouth had spoken before his brain had time to catch up and remind him that that was probably not the right thing to ask her.

She made a confused sound before he heard the shuffling sound again. "An FBI t-shirt and underwear." She mumbled, and he realized she'd probably lifted the blanket to double check.

"MY FBI t-shirt?" He accused her, though he felt a possessive thrill roll through him at the thought of her sleeping in his clothes. Not to mention the idea of her sleeping in just about nothing but his clothes.

"It's very comfortable. It's been washed so many times. So soft." She murmured, and he could hear the teasing in her voice.

"But it's mine." He teased right back, shifting lower onto his couch until he was laying down on his back. He bent one arm behind his head, getting more comfortable.

"I'm sorry it bothers you so much. I could always take it off if you want." She told him. He grinned at the comfortable flirty banter, and hesitated for only a second before he decided to voice his reply.

Was he really going to say it? "Yea. I want you to take it off." He told her, his voice a little huskier than it had been. "And the panties too." He added, relishing in the surprised gasp he heard on the other end of the line.

"I'm quite certain that these are not your panties, Booth." She said with a laugh, but he listened with excitement as he heard her shuffling fabrics around for a moment. "Do you require photographic evidence to ensure they're not, in fact, yours?" She suggested, and his heart skipped a fucking beat or two.

"Yea, I think I might. Gotta examine the evidence thoroughly, right?" He answered her, his hand stroking over his stomach absently as he wondered if she was really going to do it.

He listened intently to a series of shuffling noises before his phone vibrated and he glanced at the screen. A new message from Bones. Bones, who was currently on the phone with him talking about sending him pictures of her in her goddamn panties. He opened the message and nearly choked on the very air in his lungs.

His eyes feasted on the image on his screen of Bones lying there in her bed, topless in just a pair of bright green shorts-style panties. He would never have imagined her owning something so fluorescent in color, but was definitely glad he knew about them now. "Yep, those are absolutely mine." He told her, bringing his phone close enough to his face so he could hear her response without having to take his eyes off the screen.

"Would you like me to take them off too?" She asked, and fuck yes, he wanted her to take them off.

"Yea, take them off, baby." He whispered to her, his chest rumbling as with his words.

"I like that." She sighed followed by a brief rustling of fabrics.

"Like what?" He asked, feeling like he was in a trance, listening to her take off her fucking panties for him.

"When you call me that." She replied almost shyly. Shy was definitely not a Bones trait, but damn if she liked it when he called her baby, he'd do it any chance he got from here out.

"What else do you like, baby?" He flirted, sliding his hand down his stomach and into the waistband of his sweatpants.

Booth listened, stroking his cock to the sound of Bones telling him all kinds of dirty things she wanted him to do to her. She was, possibly, the most imaginative woman he'd ever met. No wonder so many people bought her books. He listened to her gasp and moan when he'd told her to touch herself and imagine his mouth on her. He came in his hand at the mere sound of her crying out in pleasure as she fingered herself to orgasm.

He listened to her sigh with sleepy content, and he laughed. "You're falling asleep on me again." He murmured, and she sighed again. He could almost hear the smile in her voice.

"I always sleep so much better after an orgasm." She told him matter-of-factly, and this was a little tidbit of information he stored away in his Bones bank of facts. Bones slept better after coming. Good to know. He almost looked forward to the next time she'd call him and tell him she couldn't sleep.

"I'll remember that the next time I tuck you in." He murmured, listening to her throaty laugh. "Get some sleep." He told her, reluctantly saying goodnight when she yawned and sighed again.

"G'night Booth." She murmured softly, mumbling her words sleepily.

"Goodnight Bones." He replied, ending the call and getting up from the couch.

He grabbed the crumpled tissues he'd jerked off into and headed to the bathroom, flushing away the mess and the evidence. He took pause for a moment, waiting for the wave of guilt to wash over him, but it didn't. All he felt was sated as he climbed into his empty bed, and opened that picture of Bones in her lime green panties again. He felt a sudden warmth flush over him as he realized he was possibly one of a very small population of people who knew that Dr. Temperance Brennan, world renowned forensic anthropologist, serious and studious scientist slash author, favored cute and colorful tiny shorts.