A/N: First of all let me say wow! The first three chapters of this story didn't spark much interest, but since I posted the update you guys seem to be getting excited about it. Not only does the attention boost my ego, but it fuels my motivation, too. That means the more you review, the faster I write ;-)

Okay, this section was inspired by the conversation Booth and Brennan had near the begining of the episode "The Man on the Fairway". The part of it that has been reproduced here (the first six lines in italics) is the part referenced throughout the chapter, and you do not need to have seen this particular ep to understand this part of the story. If you have seen the ep, though, you'll remember the part I'm using.

Enjoy!

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"You've done a couple of cases without me and you miss me."

"Zach misses you, not me."

"The next time you miss me, pick up the phone and call—we'll do lunch or something…"

"I do not miss you!"

"Yeah, you miss me! Come on say it!"

"I do not miss…"



Booth sat at his desk, his floor of the J. Edgar Hoover FBI Building empty save for the cleaning crew, the sky outside his window lit only by a half-moon hanging overhead. He was supposed to be doing paperwork, the boring part of the job they never showed in movies and the bane of his existence. Instead, his thoughts kept floating back to his conversation with Brennan earlier in the day.

The Squints at the Jeffersonian had been assigned three cases in a row that did not include the FBI, so he and Brennan had spent some time apart. A case surfaced that morning, though, which Brennan had decided justified Booth's presence, and she gave him a call asking him to come to her lab as soon as possible. He had gone as requested and listened carefully to her presentation of the facts.

Booth leaned back in his chair, a sly grin spreading across his face as he kicked his feet up on the desk. The initial information in the case had been vague, and it was a reach to try to involve the Bureau.

"But that isn't really why she asked me to go over there," he said aloud.

He pictured the superior look on her face as she explained the three small pieces of bone on the exam table, then pictured that same superior look melting into embarrassed fury when he called her out. He laced his fingers behind his head, his grin widening.

"All she had to do was say that she wanted to see me," he said out loud, "admit that she missed me."

And what, you would have left her alone?

"Of course not," he replied to his unspoken thought, chuckling to himself. "I would have teased her anyway."

Why?

"Because it's easy…she gets so wound up about the littlest things…"

And you like provoking her.

"Yeah, I like provoking her."

Why? his brain asked again.

The smile faded from his lips and he kicked his feet down from the desk. "What is this, a therapy session? I like to tease her because she reacts. My FBI partners did it to me, and now I'm doing it to her."

Because you're partners.

"Because we're partners. It's a bonding thing, a technique to bring two people closer together."

Closer together?

He thumped a fist on the desk and sat straight up in his chair. "It's important for partners to be close…they need to trust each other."

And that's why you tease Brennan?

"Yes." His voice tried to sound convincing but it didn't quite succeed.

To be close to her?

"That's not what I meant."

So you didn't miss her at all while you were working apart.

"No."

Really.

"Yes really. What? I'm being doubted by my own mind now? I didn't miss her, okay?"

Booth felt a twinge in the back of his brain equivalent to a stern look.

He sighed and slumped over his desk, his face coming to rest in one of his large hands, unable to defy his thoughts any longer. "Well…maybe just a little…"



Brennan sat at her desk, the Jeffersonian Medico-Legal Lab empty save for the cleaning crew, the sky outside her window lit only by the half-moon hanging overhead. She was supposed to be doing paperwork, the one area where she sometimes allowed herself to procrastinate then make up for later with a marathon session in the vacant building. Instead, her thoughts kept floating back to her conversation with Booth earlier in the day.

She and her staff at the Jeffersonian had been assigned three cases in a row that did not include the FBI, so it had been a while since she'd worked with Booth. A case surfaced that morning, though, which Brennan had decided justified Booth's presence, and she gave him a call asking him to come to her lab as soon as possible. He had come as requested and listened carefully to her presentation of the facts.

Brennan leaned back in her chair, dropping her pen on her blotter and folding her hands across her stomach. The information had been incomplete, sure, but there seemed to be enough evidence of a crime to involve the Bureau.

"And that's why I called him," she said aloud.

Her lips pulled into a frown and her forehead creased with annoyance as she pictured the smug look on his face when he implied that she might have called him out of something other than professional interest.

"Why does he tease me like that?"

That's psychology Brennan, and you know how you hate psychology.

"Yes," she replied to the thought, "but I wish he'd just do his job and let me do mine."

The next noise she heard sounded like laughing coming from the back of her mind.

"What? That's what I want."

And you don't enjoy spending time with him at all?

"Well, yes, I like spending time with him. Professionally, of course. He's a good investigator, and in spite of his disdain for my field, he's actually rather intelligent most of the time."

Is that why you missed him while you weren't working together?

"Yes," she said firmly. "Even with the teasing, we make a good team. It's best for society if we continue to work together."

Best for society? Are you two saving the world?

"No, but we do very important work."

And it's strictly professional.

"Yes of course."

You weren't excited to see him again?

"We already established that I like working with him."

And his smile didn't make your stomach flip-flop at all?

She sat straight up in her chair and flattened her palms on her desk. "No!"

You're sure about that.

"I know what you're implying, but he's my partner…my work partner…"

Come on, I was there, remember?

She sighed and slumped over the desk, her head buried in her arms, defeated by her own brain. "Well…maybe just a little…"