(The Bikini in the Soup)

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I don't own Bones.

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The last few months had been crazy as far as Booth was concerned and solving a murder on Valentine's Day just seemed more of the same. He had hoped to have a romantic dinner with his Bones that evening, but everyone seemed to be in a rush to solve the murder they had been assigned to in one day and no one seemed to be interested in what he thought about it.

While they investigated the death of the wedding planner, he managed to find time to have flowers sent to Brennan at her office not that she would be there to see them when they arrived. He knew she would have to go back to her office sooner or later and when she did she would see them then, so he wasn't too worried about that. He also had a present for her, but he wanted to wait until that evening when they were home and alone.

As they worked the case, Booth realized that the tension in those he worked with seemed to have eased somewhat. The death of William King and the arrest of Wayne Kitchen seemed to have put everyone in a more relaxed mood. Even though they knew that there was someone else out there that had manipulated Kitchen and King, no one seemed to be worried about that, at least for the moment. They were at a dead end with that part of the Storm investigation and they would be until something else came along to point them in another direction.

In the meantime, everyone seemed determined to solve their case by 6:45 that evening with the intention of celebrating Valentine's Day afterward. Cam was the main instigator and it amused Booth that she was so determined to enjoy the evening with her boyfriend and she wasn't going to let a murder get in her way. His friend was a workaholic, but for at least that day, she wanted to be like most normal people and get off of work at a reasonable time. Well, since that was to his advantage, he worked on the case as diligently as he could.

Brennan had never cared for Valentine's Day. In the past, she had accepted gifts from Booth on that unofficial holiday, but she felt like she was just humoring her boyfriend. He was a romantic and she didn't want to spoil his bid to have a romantic evening on a day he considered special.

This year was different. She had been in a relationship with Booth for almost five years and she was pregnant. They were going to have a baby and she was so happy. Artificial holiday or not, she wanted to show Booth how much she loved and appreciated him. After examining the body in the tanning bed, she had found time to call an antique store she did business with and arranged for the present she had bought for Booth to be delivered to the Hoover. She and Angela had spent several lunch breaks in the last few weeks searching for a present for Booth and she had found the appropriate gift the week before. She had planned to have it delivered to him on the anniversary for their becoming a couple, but after talking to the owner, Ms. Kline had agreed to deliver it to Booth on Valentine's Day. Eager to see what he thought of the present, Brennan had followed Booth back to his office once their suspect had been booked and the investigation was complete.

Stepping into his office, Booth noticed a gift wrapped box sitting on the edge of his desk. "What's this?" He glanced back at Brennan with suspicion as she moved into the room.

A secretive smile on her face, Brennan shrugged her shoulders. "Perhaps you should open it and find out."

The smile on his lover's face made his heart begin to race. Booth knew she wasn't one to normally send presents to anyone unless it was their birthday and if she was giving him a present on Valentine's Day then the present was probably very special. Tearing the paper from the box, he pulled the lid off and peered inside the box. "No." He turned and gave his partner a goofy grin. "Really? No way." He pulled out the Bakelite phone and stared at the dial on the face of the phone. 'I've been looking for one of these . . . where'd you find this?"

Moving closer to Booth, she placed her index finger in the dial, moved it to the zero and released the dial. The click click click it made as the dial returned to its original position was a satisfying sound. "It works too. It isn't just for decoration."

Weighing it in his hand, Booth appreciated the heaviness of the phone. "Now this is a real phone." Placing it on his desk, he pulled Brennan into his arms and kissed her. Their kiss was quite passionate and left them both breathless and wanting more.

Pleased that her present had been a success, she moved over to his desk and placed the phone back in the box. "I knew you wanted one of these and have been looking for one for quite a while. Angela and I found this one at an antique shop on Georgia Avenue. They had one red one and this black one. I knew you wanted the traditional black Bakelite phone, so it wasn't hard to choose which one to buy."

"Well, thank you. I have a present for you too, but it's at home." Booth smiled. "It's been under the bed in the downstairs guest bedroom for about two months. That's why I've been volunteering to vacuum the basement. I didn't want you to find it."

"Won't you tell me what it is?" Brennan didn't care for surprises, but she knew before she asked that Booth would dig his heels in and not tell her."

Slowly shaking his head, Booth picked up the box that held his phone and pointed at the doorway. "Nope, you have to wait until we get home first."

With little choice in the matter, Brennan walked toward the office doorway. "I'm patient . . . I can wait."

"That's good, because you have to." Carrying his phone under his arm, Booth chuckled as Brennan threw him a look of displeasure. "Play the game, Bones. Just play the game."

As she moved down the hallway in front of Booth, Brennan heard her phone ring. Removing it from her purse, she answered it. "Brennan."

Dr. Brennan, I was given your phone number by The American University. I'm a reporter for the New York Times. I'm doing a story on the aftermath of the Dirty War in Argentina. I've been told that you were involved in identifying some of the missing and I was wondering if I could do an interview with you.

"No thank you. Check with Dr. Nora Cromwell at George Mason University." Moving closer to the elevator, Brennan frowned at Booth. "She managed our work site and was the one to whom the government of Argentina asked to help with the identifications. I was merely an associate."

But I talked to her and she told me to interview you since you were responsible for the biggest portion of the identifications. She said she was merely the manager.

Snorting, Brennan shook her head. "Dr. Cromwell doesn't like reporters, so she is trying to avoid you. If she won't talk to you then check with Dr. Jason Price also at George Mason University. He worked with me and Dr. Cromwell identifying bodies."

But why won't you give me the interview? I'm in town and I promise I won't take up too much of your time. My name is Hannah Burley. I can meet you wherever you'd like to meet whenever it is convenient for you.

Frustrated, Brennan glanced at Booth and pointed at the elevator button. "I am very busy Ms. Burley. Please check with Dr. Price." Ending the call, she placed the phone back into her purse. "I don't mind doing interviews for my books and for reputable scientific magazines, but I refuse to give interviews to newspaper reporters. They never seem to stick to their original requests. They try to ask personal questions about me and the people I work with. If I protest they just ignore me and continue to ask inappropriate questions. I would rather avoid that bit of unpleasantness if I can help it."

"I know what you mean." Booth pressed the down button on the elevator. "I have to give interviews when we're working on cases as you know, but I'm not crazy about it. We need the press, but they usually want more than I can give at the time and that just makes them belligerent."

The elevator door opened and they entered the car. "I have ordered dinner from Paragon Thai Restaurant. It should be ready for us to pick up by the time we get there."

"Sounds great." Booth stared at Brennan as the car moved downwards. "It's kind of weird that we solved a case in one day. I bet that won't happen again anytime soon."

"No probably not. Cam hovered over everyone at the Lab and we were lucky when Angela found the will on Wendy Bovitz's computer. Plus, her husband was no match for my acting skills."

Amused, Booth reached out and held the elevator door open when the doors slid aside. Once Brennan was in the hallway, Booth left the car. "Yeah, you smoked him when you compared him to Heathcliff." Booth laughed. He hadn't understood what Brennan was talking about at the time, but Greg Bovitz had opened his mouth and implicated himself in the murder of his wife and that was all Booth needed. The idiot.

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While Brennan waited in the living room, Booth walked down the stairs to the guest bedroom. Squatting beside the bed, he realized he'd have to get on his knees to retrieve the present. Once the package was in his hand, he groaned as he stood up. His hand on his lower back, Booth rubbed it and hoped he wasn't going to have a problem. Damn it. Don't you dare give me any trouble you piece of shit. Once he was back upstairs he carried the box over to his girlfriend and handed it to her. "I saw this and thought you might like it. Happy Valentine's Day."

Eager to see what Booth was giving her, Brennan placed the box on the coffee table, removed the wrapping paper and opened it. Inside she found a light gray ribbed knit wrap sweater. "It's beautiful Booth"

Pleased that she liked it, Booth helped her put it on. "It can go with a dress or blouse and slacks . . . It's looks nice on you, I knew it would."

Moving so that she faced Booth, she placed her hands flat on his chest, leaned forward and kissed him. This time their passionate kiss turned into something much more and they let it.

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