A/N: This is my personal favorite chapter so far. Special thanks to my sister Karen, amateur fashion consultant, for giving me an appropriate term for what I would have called "man shoes". -tc
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Brennan watched from the doorway as Booth settled his broad frame onto the edge of Parker's twin bed. He'd kicked off his black oxfords in front of the dresser, and his legs stretched out across the spaceship-printed comforter next to his son's. Temperance smiled as she watched the two men go through what was clearly an established ritual of story-reading, tucking in, goodnight kisses, and a cursory check of the closet for monsters. Not afraid of skeletons, but furry little men? she mused, grinning at Agent Booth's serious demeanor as he performed the examination. She was waiting for him in the hallway when he finally turned off the lights and left the room.
Booth closed the door silently behind himself. "I like to wait here for a few minutes to make sure he's asleep," he whispered to Temperance. "You know, you could have come in. He loves reading with you."
"I didn't want to get in the way," she replied. "Besides, I enjoy studying your interaction. You know the father-son dynamic isn't one I get to observe very often."
Booth shook his head and sighed. "Squints. You thought it was interesting to watch me read A Fish Out of Water four times in a row?"
"Well, not just interesting," she answered earnestly. "It was sexy."
Booth stepped closer to make sure he had heard her correctly. "We've driven through the streets of L.A. in a classic convertible, we've danced cheek-to-cheek, hell, I've dodged bullets for you, and somehow this is your definition of sexy?"
Brennan looked confused. "No, not my personal definition. But when you think about our most primitive desires, our most basic instincts, women have been genetically programmed since the dawn of humanity to select the ideal mate through observation. It's the same in almost every other species. A protective nature and athletic prowess are clearly positive indicators of a male's ability to defend his offspring against enemies and pass on these favorable genetic qualities to future generations, but it's not enough. While in some species, the female raises the young largely as an individual or part of a larger female collective, humans are among the many animals who have traditionally reared their offspring in pairs."
"Uh-huh." Booth was trying valiantly, as always, to follow his partner's anthropological ramblings, but his mind kept getting sidetracked by words like "desire" and unwanted images of Brennan in a loincloth. He tried to focus on her little speech, but felt his eyes drawn instead to the way her full lips glistened even in the dim hallway lights, the little crinkle in her forehead that meant she was concentrating, the tiny dangling jade stars she wore in her ears.
"I mean, sex, while it has well-documented pleasurable side benefits, is essentially just a means of procreation. Therefore, when a woman evaluates an individual as 'sexy', she's really only saying that that individual exhibits characteristics that she finds appropriate in a potential candidate for procreation and co-nurturing of their shared offspring. So yes, your interaction with Parker demonstrated that you possess many of these characteristics, and therefore, as a woman, I found it sexy." She stopped for breath and noticed that Booth's face was barely a foot from her own, and that he was looking at her quite oddly – almost as though he had never seen her before. "Booth?" she asked. "Are you listening to me?"
"Right. Characteristics." He was trying very hard to concentrate all of his attention on the way her eyelashes fluttered softly, and none at all on imagining any 'pleasurable side benefits'. "So a man ... what kind of ... characteristics ... does he look for?"
Too deep into her explanation to be conscious of the growing tension, Brennan wondered fleetingly what in the world was wrong with the normally articulate FBI agent, then went back to her musings, tilting her head slightly in thought so that a few soft brown curls tumbled over her shoulder and down the side of her face. "Well, most men admit that they seek certain physical characteristics in a woman. Full breasts, curvaceous figure, and so forth. Which, evolutionarily speaking, is a logical desire. A woman's breasts represent her ability to sustain the man's progeny into adulthood. Wide hips give her a greater chance of surviving childbirth and retaining the ability to bear more than one offspring. If all women looked like Clarissa Flockhart, the future of our species would be in jeopardy."
"Calista," Booth corrected automatically, trying to tear his wandering attention away from Brennan's progeny-sustaining apparatuses.
"Right." Temperance told herself that it was only her long-winded explanation that had her a bit short of breath, and not the smoldering look in Booth's eyes or the fact that he seemed now mere inches from her. "But in addition to the physical characteristics, a man also requires a female who has certain less tangible attributes. She should be..." The anthropologist was momentarily distracted by a lock of hair that was sticking out near Booth's temple and the sudden burning desire to smooth it down. She shook her head and continued. "The male desires a female who..." She turned her wide eyes up to meet Booth's gaze, and her voice was a barely audible whisper. "I don't know what he wants."
Temperance realized suddenly that the critical moment Angela had spoken of might now be at hand, that she was pressed back against the wall, that she could barely draw her eyes from her partner's lips. Booth was leaning toward her with one arm braced against the wall, and the other hand had reached out to touch her earring and set it gently swaying. He took a final half-step toward her and their bodies were now so close that she couldn't tell whether it was his skin vibrating with desire or her own. Booth trailed a finger down the delicate curve of her jawline, then slid his hand back along her cheekbone to bury his fingers in her hair. Tilting his mouth down to hers so she could feel his warm breath on her trembling lips, he asked, "Is this okay?"
And whatever answer she would have given was lost, for at that moment Parker cried out, "Daddy! You forgot my night light!"
In an instant, Dr. Brennan had fled down the hall. Booth heard the apartment door close behind her, and he barely had a minute to rest his head on the wall and wonder what the hell had just happened before Parker called out again, and he opened the door to attend to his son.
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A/N: Yep, I Seacrested ya. Don't worry, I promise it'll happen eventually. : )