Ok, it's actually disgusting how long it's taken me to update...but I haven't been able to get into this site at ALL. Lousy, stinking, stupid, internet.

Bones is definitely not mine. I checked. Then I cried and had other people check too. Definitely not, apparently.

So, on with the show...

Poor Brennan was completely addled. She stood poker stiff beside the table, her plate and utensils abandoned and forgotten beside her. She couldn't hear herself breathing but that may have had something to do with the pulse that was pounding in her ears. Even though she was deaf to it, she was certain her frantic inhaling and exhaling could be heard from outside the very walls of the apartment. She could feel herself panting. The sensation wasn't entirely unpleasant.

Booth suddenly reappeared, still shirtless. Brennan became even deafer as the banging in her ears increased. She could actually feel her chest rising and falling with such rapidity she was surprised she hadn't fainted from oxygen deprivation.

It took a moment for her to realise that Booth was speaking to her. She gave her head a quick shake, desperately trying to regain the malfunctioning one of five senses.

When she looked at Booth once more, eyes slightly squinted so as not to become overly distracted, she was met with a rather self-satisfied smirk.

"Did you hear me, Bones?"

"Huh?"

His smile stretched further.

Brennan shook her head furiously, desperately trying to fix her hearing and, if possible, dislodge the inappropriate thoughts currently blossoming in her brain.

"I…sorry, Booth. I was just thinking about work…work…and I got completely distracted. What did you say?"

Booth appeared to be sucking on the corners of his mouth in an effort not to show any amusement. Brennan's eyes narrowed.

He knew! He absolutely one hundred percent knew! Infuriating man. Infuriating, frustrating, annoying man with his cocky smile, arrogant glance, perfect body…no! Infuriating man.

"I was saying that your little game managed to…eh…seep down through the shirt and, well, frankly, there's syrup everywhere." He slowly gave his chest a little wipe, nose wrinkled in disgust at the texture but his eyes were fixed on her own.

Brennan could feel her jaw slack against her feet but could do nothing about it.

"I was wondering if I could use your shower?"

Brennan nodded in a very offhand way and attempted to lean her hand on the table to complete the display of nonchalance. Unfortunately, the poor anthropologist was so flustered she missed the table by a long shot and almost knocked herself over.

Cheeks colouring instantly, she hesitantly glanced up.

Booth was looking down at her with one eyebrow raised, a very smug expression dominating his features.

"You ok, Bones? A bit distracted?"

By this stage Brennan's eyes were so tightly squeezed into a glare that she couldn't really see Booth at all. She directed her furious gaze in what she hoped was his general direction and shook her head energetically.

"No, Booth, I'm perfectly fine. You just wait here a second and I'll get you set up for that shower."

She had to open her eyes a bit in order to cross the room. This caused Booth's form to suddenly swim into view. He looked slightly disappointed at her refusal to admit to even the slightest distraction she might be feeling over his semi-naked state. He quickly recovered, however, the confident smile returning almost instantaneously.

He somehow forced her to meet his gaze. His eyes were dark, dangerous and alive with amusement…and something else. Something Brennan really couldn't handle right now. His stance was relaxed, his strong arms hanging loosely by his sides, framing his torso. He seemed to be challenging her into dropping her gaze. Brennan responded by keeping her eye-level somewhat higher than normal, her chin nearly pointing to the ceiling in an effort not to be tempted into permitting herself a quick glance at his exposed skin.

She shuffled out of the door backwards, determined not to be the one to break the intense stare. When the connection was finally severed, she almost tripped with relief.

Behind her, she could hear the quiet chuckles of her partner. This caused her shoulders to square almost involuntarily. She'd show him. She wasn't sure how but she would definitely show him.

She collected some towels from the appropriate cupboard and brought them into her bathroom. Her brain was in overdrive trying to come up with a suitable retribution. She could hear herself muttering aloud with the effort.

Frustrated that there had been no burst of inspiration, she turned to exit the room with a little growl. Her eyes fell on the door handle. Then on the key sitting in the lock. Inspiration suddenly struck like a bolt. She grinned wickedly.

Moments later, she returned to Booth. The squinty-eyed expression had returned and she stumbled into the room, arms stretched out ahead of her so as not to bump into anything. She wasn't sure if she'd just misjudged his position or if he had deliberately moved but, either way, her fingers connected with something smooth, solid and very warm.

Her eyes snapped open and she looked in astonishment at her hands pressed against Booth's chest. It took a few seconds for the reality of the situation to process in her brain. Another couple of seconds were needed before she was actually willing to jump back and away from him.

"Um…um…"

"Can't keep your hands off me, can you, Bones?"

Infuriated, Brennan gave him a disgusted push. His blinding grin widened as he gestured down towards her hands, which had apparently forgotten to pull away after the little push and were currently melded onto his bare skin.

Brennan grunted and reluctantly slapped her hands down against her thighs.

"Bathroom's all ready for you. I should tell you, though, the key's gone."

Booth's smile faltered.

"It snapped last week. Had to throw out the parts I could remove. I have to get it fixed…but, what with living on my own, it didn't seem like such a huge priority."

She turned an innocent look onto Booth's suddenly pale face.

"Ah…ok, then. Em, well, I'll just go and…and…you're not going to come in, are you?"

Brennan gave him a disgusted look.

"I think I can control myself."

She took hold of his bicep and guided him into the bathroom. She did a pretty good job of ignoring the sparks leaping between their bodies, particularly the area where their skin connected.

"Look," she pointed to the towels, "there's your towels and I suppose you could just put your clothes on the floor or something. I'll be outside when you're done."

With that, she turned sharply on her heel and headed out. She shut the door to the sound of her partner's little moan.

Brennan stood quietly outside of the door, body racked with silent giggles as she listened to Booth frantically hopping about the bathroom. She was so incredibly immobile she could hear him, eventually, tentatively shedding the remaining items of clothing. The shower was turned on to a very low power. A number of seconds passed and the power was increased slightly. She was nearly buckled with muted laughter. He didn't trust her. He had good reason.

It nearly killed her to wait for a few minutes before making her move. Agonising seconds crawled past as Brennan stood with her ear pressed against the door. Finally, she felt the time was right to set her plan in motion.

Her hand nearly slipped off the door handle when she reached for it. Taking a steadying breath, she managed to firmly grasp the handle and push the door open. She could feel muscles she wasn't even aware she had tensed relax suddenly when no indignant shout accompanied her intrusion.

Gaining confidence with each shout-free moment, Brennan crossed the room, adopting a rather exaggerated tiptoe movement to aid her stealth ness. The steam that covered the room was heavy and sleep inducing but it did little to obscure the neat pile of towels Brennan had placed near the shower. She snatched these hurriedly then spun around to search for Booth's clothes. He was definitely not as neat as her.

After a few minutes of scrambling around on the floor gathering up her partner's discarded clothing, she sprinted out of the bathroom. Brennan shut the door quietly and skipped delightedly into the living room to dump the clothes and towels onto the couch. She then returned to her post outside the bathroom door.

A further thirty seconds passed before she heard the thrum of the shower water cease. Unconsciously, she held her breath. She heard Booth let out a quick sigh, winding down from the shower's warmth. There was silence. Then the tinny sound of the shower curtain being opened as the metal rings slid down the pole. More silence. An incredulous snort. Then a furious roar of, "BONES!!"

Brennan gave herself a few seconds before responding.

"Booth? Are you ok?"

There was another snort from behind the door.

"I'd be doing a lot better if you'd left me my clothes."

"Your clothes? Your clothes aren't there?"

She heard a little yelp as he slid across the floor towards the door. There was a small thump as he slammed into the wood.

"You know perfectly well my clothes aren't here. You snuck in and took them. You little stealing, clothes taking, thief person."

Brennan was unable to respond for a couple of seconds. Eventually, she managed to gasp, "Maybe I did and maybe I didn't. Guess you'll just have to come out and see, won't you?"

There was a growl behind the door. Followed quickly by a high-pitched whine.

"Bo-ones! Come on! You got me back. I'm sorry I was making fun of you. Please, please, please give me my clothes back."

Her resolve was unwavering.

"Sorry, Booth. Maybe this will make you think twice before you tease me again."

There was a silence followed by the determined slap of his feet across the floor.

Reading his mind, she shouted, "You even think about ripping off my shower curtain and I'll make sure Zach is the forensic anthropologist you have to deal with for the next few cases."

A pitiful cry accompanied this statement.

"Bo-ones!"

"Sorry, but you have to be taught. I'll be outside with your clothes when you're ready to stop sulking."

Knowing he wouldn't come out immediately, Brennan took a few moments to dance across into the living room and gather all of the previously deposited items into her arms, along with a new item. She dropped them and set up the final crucial element of her revenge. This finished, she settled herself on the floor in front of the wall farthest from the bathroom door. As she waited, she began folding his clothes.

The pathetic moans and whines coming from the bathroom eventually died down. Presently, she heard the door open. Making a very conscious effort to keep her eyes on the task at hand, she kept her head lowered. Even though she refused to look at him, she could make out a figure moving towards her in her peripheral vision, but no details were obvious.

The figure finally halted before her. Willing her cheeks to resist the impulse to imitate a particularly ripe strawberry, Brennan finally lifted her head. Booth stood before her, a glower etched into his features. His hair was darker than usual with moisture and was slicked back, no doubt the result of frantic fingers running through it as he tried to get out of his current situation.

Her gaze leisurely travelled downwards from his face. Drops of water glistened on his skin. His stomach and chest muscles were tense. Finally her gaze rested on the area below his midriff.

Booth held a blue flannel tightly against the crucial area. His hands seemed to be attempting to pull it in all four directions simultaneously in an effort to make the material larger. It just covered what it had to but, understandably, the F.B.I. agent was uncomfortable with showing this much skin.

Brennan held his gaze defiantly for a number of seconds before holding out the towels and clothes to him. His eyes widened in relief, then widened further in horror as he tried to comprehend how he could snatch them off her without her seeing anything. His feet began an anxious little jig. His hand suddenly darted out and he pulled the items against himself. He slapped off Brennan's hand, which was currently wedged against his thigh, and, with as much dignity as he could muster, this time he was the one who shuffled backwards to the door.

When he was safe in the bathroom, he shot another 'stealing stealer' comment before shutting the door hurriedly before she could retaliate.

Brennan shifted into a more comfortable against the wall. She felt no desire to rebuke him. In her opinion, she had well and truly gotten him back.

Especially as there was a video camera she had discreetly placed in the side of the room, taping the entire incident.