A/N: My computer's been acting up lately, but I managed to calm it down long enough to post this. It's just a little more fluff, inspired by a comment Booth made (probably more than once) about Brennan not liking to be touched.

Enjoy!

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"Are you sure you're okay?" Booth asked, standing beside the couch in Brennan's office.

From her desk, the anthropologist replied, "Yes. I'm okay…I'll be okay." She paused a moment, observing her partner. "What about you? This case was really hard on you."

He waived her off with typical male bravado. "I'm fine."

"Really?" she responded, unconvinced. "I may not be good at reading people, Booth, but I am getting better at reading you."

He looked over at her, digesting her words slowly before realizing she was right. She is getting good at reading me. He sighed and flopped down onto the couch. "Okay, I admit, I want to go down to that holding cell and make that guy wish he'd never been born," he told her through gritted teeth. "But I can't. So I won't. Instead, I'm going to go home, have a beer, and try to forget this case ever happened."

He rose quickly and started to leave the office, but hesitated at the door. I don't want to be alone tonight, he realized.

"Booth?" Brennan's voice intruded into his revelation.

"On second thought," he said, turning to face her again, "why don't you come over, too?"

That surprised her. "You want me to go home with you?"

As usual, she twisted my words around. "I want you to come over for a little while. We'll get take-out from Wong Foo's and watch stupid movies…or whatever. I don't think you should be alone tonight."

"I'm a grown woman, Booth. I can take care of myself," she reminded him with more force than she intended.

He sighed again. "Look, I know you can. I just want to make sure you don't go home and bury yourself in some anthropology textbook, okay? It's not healthy after the kind of case we had."

She studied him again, noting his scraggly face, his tired eyes, his slumped shoulders. He looks like he needs a friend. "Okay."

"Okay?" he repeated.

"Okay," she nodded her head. "Let's go get something to eat and find a movie."

She grabbed her coat and didn't protest when Booth reached over to help her put it on. His hand found the small of her back, guiding her out of the lab and into the parking structure, heading to Blockbuster before stopping at Sid's.

When they arrived at Booth's place, she took the food into the kitchen while he fired up the DVD player. Brennan reappeared minutes later carrying two open cardboard containers and two pairs of chopsticks, placing them on the coffee table as she seated herself on the couch.

"So what's first?" she asked.

Booth held a DVD case in each hand, glancing from one to the other. "How 'bout The Mighty Ducks?"

"Sure," she agreed, smothering a teasing smile. He needs support right now. I may not know how to give it to him, but I'm pretty sure making fun of his choice of what appears to be a children's movie isn't going to help.

He popped the disc into the player and settled down beside her again. Grabbing the remote with one hand, he stretched his free arm out across the back of the couch, brushing his fingers softly along the nape of her neck.

Reacting before thinking, Brennan turned reflexively toward him, opening her mouth to speak.

Before she could, Booth cut her off. "I'm sorry," he told her. "I know how you don't like to be touched, I just forgot for a second…"

Her forehead wrinkled as she tried to sort out his words. "Booth, you don't have to apologize for touching me."

"I don't?"

"No, you do it all the time," she reminded him. "My shoulder, my back…you help me with my coat…"

"Yeah, but that's all professional," he clarified. "Touching you like I just did is…affectionate."

That made her smile. "It was. But you don't have to apologize for that, either."

"I don't?" he asked a second time.

"No." She shifted on the couch, placing her take-out container on the coffee table and turning herself further to look at him straight on. "When we're working, you're professional and well-mannered…most of the time," she smirked. "But you and I are friends outside of work, too. Aren't we?"

His expression softened. "I consider you my friend, yes."

"And friends are supposed to show affection for one another. So it's perfectly okay for you to touch me in a way that lets me know you care about me."

Her blunt analysis made him chuckle. "I can't believe I'm getting relationship advice from you."

"I'm just saying that it's okay, away from work, for us to be a little more expressive with each other," she explained.

He was a bit startled by her words. "That was surprisingly well put."

She shrugged her shoulders. "We've done it before. You've hugged me, touched my arm to comfort me…"

"…and you held my hand to comfort me," he finished gently. "We are good friends, aren't we?"

Brennan reached for her dinner, reorienting herself toward the TV as she resumed eating. "Why else would I be here watching mediocre, predictable movies with you that all have happy endings?"

He caught the glint in her blue eyes and knew that the deep part of the conversation was over. "Are you mocking my choice of DVDs?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

She nodded. "Yes, I am."

He chuckled and squeezed her shoulders warmly. "Just c'mere and watch the damn thing with me."

Laughing, she scooted closer to him, dropping her chopsticks in the take-out container long enough to pat his knee. "That's what friends are for."