"Multiple abrasions of the bones indicate multiple injuries, some sustained recently, some old injuries. It is possible some of these may be the cause of death. However, most of the injuries seem to be of non-recent origin, indicating a violent life. Perhaps this death was always to be expected."

She stopped the tape and stared at the hip bone in her hand.

"Your brother gave you that scar?"

"Yep. We were close, except when he was trying to murder me."

"Just how many scars do you have, anyway?"

"Only two ways you're going to find that out, Bones. One way is to get me on your table."

"And the other?"

He turned around and waggled his eyebrows at her, grinning at her. She sighed and frowned, and stared out the window at the passing traffic.

"You should keep your eyes on the road when you're driving." she told him, not sure why she was angry. He just grinned, slipped on his sunglasses, and kept driving.

She rewound the tape and erased the last remark. It was too poetic. It was scientific enough. Not cold and calm enough. Not the way she should speak.

She had a feeling it'd make it to her books though. Her poetical side could let loose there.

Her poetry.

Her passion.

Her pain.

All saved for the books.

"Seriously, I like your books." he told her, staring at the post-its stuck to the wall in a rough approximation of the plot.

"Really?" she said, looking up at him, with her trademark puzzled expression. She span the plastic stand around so he couldn't see the especially clever plot twist near the end.

"Really." he said, looking down at her. "They're good plots, and they're well-told, and they give me the creeps, and the occasional nightmare."

"Umm...thanks. I think."

"No, seriously, it's a compliment. Hey, can I get a signed copy this time?"

"You want me to write a dedication? What would I say?" she said, squeezing past him and striding into the corridor.

"How about 'To Seeley Booth, the inspiration behind..."

She stopped and span round, poking him in the chest with her finger.

"For the last time, Booth, you are not the inspiration for the FBI guy!"

"And you're not the pathologist, I get it. But..."

"But..."

"The pathologist kinda likes the FBI guy, doesn't she?"

"I suppose." she said reluctantly.

"And the FBI guy kinda likes the pathologist." he added.

"I guess." she admitted.

"So, if they were based on you and me, that would mean we sorta liked each other." he said, inching a little closer to her. She felt like she ought to back away. She really should walk away. But oddly enough, she found she couldn't.

Even more, she found she didn't want to.

"I guess." she repeated, slowly. "But they're not, so we..."

"Don't like each other?" he said, grinning infuriatingly. He was loving this, she could tell.

"I like you." she said, shaking her head. "But I don't necessarily like you."

"Making as much sense as ever, Bones." he was actually bending towards her, his face inches from hers.

"Don't call me Bones." she said, but her mouth was oddly dry, and she found she couldn't breathe properly. Even worse, she found herself tilting her head up, almost begging for him to kiss her.

"Anything you say, Bones." he said, and now his lips were almost touching hers, so close she could feel her lips tingling. This was it, Booth was actually going to kiss her! She and Booth were going to finally, after all this time, kiss...except Zach came round the corner at that moment.

And Zach did the whole pretending-not-to-see-them thing, which just made it blindingly obvious that he had seen them, and then Temperance decided just to escape the whole situation, which was obviously way beyond her limited social skills, and run away.