Hello again and a Very Happy New Year to everyone! I am so sorry (especially to FiB) that I have not kept to my publishing schedule, real life getting in the way (as usual, I should know better by now) and I didn't want to submit something half-cocked. Thanks to all again who were kind enough to review, I will try and get round to some individual thank yous, but please know that I do really appreciate reviews, people following and favouriting this, and any of my stories.

I should also chuck in ye olde disclaimer at this point: I don't own Bones, etc. etc. etc.

One of my favourite episodes of all time. A hard challenge keeping it T, lots of fun to write though…


Brennan first looked around the small, cluttered room and then stared down at her clothes. This was a familiar outfit, she realised, as she examined the tightly-fitting corset leaving little to the imagination, with sheer fishnets and high heels completing the ensemble. She concluded that she was probably (a) dreaming, and (b) back in Texas, which meant they were undercover at the circus. Her heart leapt – this had been one of her favourite cases to date, not least of which the satisfaction that no murder had actually been committed, not to mention the whole experience of having gone into character as 'Buck and Wanda Moosejaw'. Human kindness had actually won out for once. She wondered where her subconscious had put her along the timeline of this case…

Despite six weeks of prior experience during one of her post-grad papers, and a thorough briefing by the FBI field office team (and Sweets, who had been surprisingly helpful); one thing that Temperance Brennan had not been entirely prepared for was the size of the trailer she and Booth had been asked to share. It was *tiny*, and came with its own set of logistical and mental challenges.

Whilst the partners had developed a good working relationship, by now to the point of synergy, their previous excursion into the world of undercover work had involved a spacious hotel room, a ginormous bed with a handy bolster to keep them both from temptation, and plenty of room to escape from each other should the need arise. However, as she climbed into the trailer for the first time, Brennan realised that she was going to need every ounce of self-restraint to prevent the various types of tension she currently shared with her partner spilling over into a horrible, messy series of fights and God-knew what else, with no such escape route. They would, essentially, be in the middle of nowhere, with only the circus folk for company.

The funny thing was that as Sweets had noted with a raised eyebrow, they had both been a little too excited to join the circus in the first place; and once their act was under way, Brennan been rather too into it than was entirely healthy. The sensible part of Brennan had known this, but a long-repressed part of her had, particularly to Booth's surprise, risen to the surface in a way that he found very endearing but also alarmingly arousing, and left him permanently battling with his self-control. Albeit with her usual professionalism on the case itself, Brennan was now really all about the act and found herself extending her trust in Booth way over and above what was probably appropriate behaviour for regular work partners. That fact had not been lost on the team that when it came to it, and aside from some notably initial weak protestations from Booth, he'd had not really made any effort to dissuade her. Cam, Hodgins and Angela had briefly discussed just how small that trailer was, and Sweets' comment during their performance was not lost on the squints, who shared a knowing look, with the exception of Mr Nigel-Murray, who was mostly oblivious to anything that couldn't be found in the pages of Encyclopaedia Britannica or Wikipedia.

They'd solved the case easily enough in the end, but what had been particularly challenging was the sleeping arrangement of that three days, especially with the sexually charged nature of their roles impinging on their partnership. There really wasn't anywhere else to lie down in their trailer – the chairs in the kitchen-diner area were not made for sleeping on – nor for sitting any length of time on, as they were quite uncomfortable; and there was simply not enough room on the floor for anyone to get comfy. The prep team, aware of the unresolved sexual tension between the partners that had become legendary across FBI headquarters, delighted at showing Booth and Brennan this information with some glee, as the partners realised with slowly forming horror that there was no alternative in these cramped accommodations. Independently, modest pyjamas had been bought by both to ensure neither would be sending out any of the wrong signals to the other. Unfortunately for them, it would take a lot more than pyjamas to succeed in managing that, as they would discover.

The first night had been, simply, very odd, and ultimately bizarrely erotic. What Booth and Brennan hadn't been told by their prep team was that the mattress, though thoroughly fumigated when the mobile home had been initially purchased, was still very old, and dipped considerably in the middle. When they finally climbed into the bed after what had been a long day, both in their almost matching pyjamas, they rolled straight into each other, ending up nose to nose and chest to chest.

"Well, this is awkward." Booth looked apologetic and a little uncomfortable at their proximity, but Brennan couldn't help but smirk at their predicament. They stayed in that position a few seconds longer than they should, eyes locked on each other waiting for the other to move, before Booth ventured to suggest a solution before the temptation to kiss his partner became too great.

"Um, maybe we should try and move."

"Back to back?"

"Yeah, let's try that." So they wriggled and squirmed their way until they were facing away from each other, eventually settling on 'butt-to-butt' as they tried to get comfortable.

"Are you comfortable, Booth?"

"Not entirely," he admitted. "You?"

"Not really. It feels weird." Brennan paused in thought for a moment. "I do have a suggestion though."

"You do?"

"Yes. I think we should... what is that term? 'Fork.'"

"Spoon!" Booth choked out.

"Yes, well they both allow the cutlery to nest appropriately. Anyway, you can give me a guy hug."

"A guy hug? Now?" Booth was certain he would be going to hell with the images immediately and involuntarily forming in his mind as several long-standing sexual fantasies started an impromptu show-reel in his head.

"This seems like the perfect time. We need a practical solution to this situation."

"That's true," he spluttered.

"We are close friends, you can give me a guy hug in the spoon configuration, so we can both get to sleep. I mean," she considered, "You'd do it for any close friend, right?" He so wouldn't.

"Sure!" He was sure his voice had gone up two octaves.

...And so they settled, Brennan urging some encouragement to bring her partner closer, whilst he edged toward her nervously, trying to keep his nether regions as far away from her as possible, leaving his feet lurching out diagonally from the bed. Surprisingly though, the ploy worked and they soon slept soundly, although by morning his feet had sought out the warmth of the blankets and they woke up with him pressed very firmly against her, head to toe, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination when she stirred first the next morning.

Brennan was no idiot, she'd known exactly what she was doing. She wasn't one for snuggling in general - her general attitude towards emotion-based sexual relationships precluded that behaviour; but she had occasionally enjoyed a similar cuddle with Sully whilst they'd dated. Winding Booth up had been a bonus. The state of the mattress gave her an opportunity to do something she would not usually allow herself. She wasn't about to admit her real feelings for Booth to herself, let alone anyone else, but she sneakily took the time to relish the few moments she had to revel in the arms (and body) of her partner before he woke, happily snuggling into him further, both sets of their hands clasped together in front of her, his big strong arms wrapped around her protectively. Booth clearly hadn't read the script, as when he began to stir some minutes later, his first instinct was to hold her tighter and nuzzle the back of her neck as he breathed in her welcoming and familiar scent. That only encouraged Brennan further, and when she gently pushed her behind against her partner to get even closer to him, he suddenly woke up a lot quicker, pulling away from her so quickly he almost fell out of bed.

"Bones! You can't do that!"

"It's a perfectly natural response, Booth, nothing to be ashamed of."

"Bones! It's you! And, er, me!"

"I was hardly taking advantage of, and besides, Buck and Wanda are a married couple. I was just staying in role." With her back still to him, he couldn't see her smirk. Booth shook his head.

"I'm going to have a shower." A very cold shower.


Their day was filled with questioning interested parties, and making preparations for their act that evening and all sexual tension was mostly pushed to the back burner. Their performance went well, though Brennan couldn't help but be disheartened at Booth's reluctance for a repeat performance. A small, nagging part of her really did want to run away to the circus with him forever, and she couldn't entirely hide her disappointment when he pointed out that they had to arrest their key suspect.

As Brennan stood contemplating herself in the mirror, Booth burst through the door, a bottle of some local brew in his hand.

"I called the Dallas field office. They're short-staffed, a couple of Senate big-wigs over from DC, so all spare man-power going to their protection service. Magnum is low priority and we're still here, so they'll pick him up in the morning. so he won't go far." So that's where I came in. She smiled to herself at the realisation.

Booth gave Brennan a broad smile, not realising Brennan's knowledge of the dream state they were a part of. "After I called the office, I drove down to the town, found some liquor for us to celebrate the end of the case, seeing as we're nowhere near The Founding Fathers. Actually," he waved the bottle in front of her, "It wasn't so cheap, has some hipster label, but I have no idea how good it's gonna be." He shrugged his shoulders at her light heartedly, she grinned at him in return.

"I'll get the glasses."

They sat on the uncomfortable chairs as Booth poured out two liberally large fingers of the locally produced bourbon into each glass.

"Here's to Boris and Natasha."

"And Buck and Wanda!" They clinked glasses before both downing their shots.

"Hey, this stuff isn't bad, Booth." Brennan took a closer look at the label. "It says it's an artisanal bourbon made from a specially cultivated wild yeast."

"Yep, Hipster liquor, but not bad." Booth poured out two more glasses. "Here's to us. Best crime fighting unit in the FBI!"

"To the best crime fighting unit in the FBI." Brennan enthusiastically agreed. A couple further shots were imbibed and eye contact was locked on as the alcohol flowed further.

"How are your feet?" Asked Booth. Brennan pulled an appropriately discomforted expression.

"Actually a little sore. I was not conditioned for that high wire, although ultimately that fact did help solve the case."

Booth decided, now feeling a little emboldened by his mildly intoxicated state, that this chance to actively touch his partner with her permission was too good an opportunity to pass up, especially with an bone fide excuse.

"Would you like a foot rub?" he asked in his most innocent voice.

"Oh, that would be nice, thank you." She slipped off her heels, leaving her in just the fishnet tights.

"We should probably move…" and he thumbed over his shoulder to the bed. "These chairs are terrible." This part he hadn't really thought through. He gulped as he looked down at her nylon-covered legs. Time to prep the super-human self-control once again.

"It would be certainly more comfortable for us both."

They made their way to the back of the trailer and sat on the bed, Booth's back to the pillows and Brennan next to him, but turned with her torso and legs at an angle so her feet were on his lap.

"I should really be doing this for you Booth", Brennan contemplated with some melancholy.

"Don't be silly, Bones."

"I know your history," Brennan reminded him.

"Well, you can save a foot rub for me another time." With that, Booth began to gently caress her left foot through the material.

"I'm going to hold you to that," she smiled gently at him, "Oh, that feels good." He grinned, and continued, massaging first one foot and then the other, varying the pressure and movement as he did so, especially working on the muscles over her cuboid and navicular. He began to move his hands up to her ankle a little, running his fingers over her calcaneus and talus. He'd been studying her studiously, noting the surprisingly pink nail varnish she'd applied to her toes and generally well-kept state of her feet, but glanced up at her a couple of times to check she wasn't in pain, the second of which gave him a quite a shock as he took in the blissful expression now fixed on her face, along with her closed eyes and gentle moans as he worked his magic. Whilst this was exactly what he was aiming for, the reality, along with the alcohol they consumed, was even more show-stopping than he could have expected. He stopped like he'd just caught a hot potato in his bare hands.

"Ow!" Brennan yelped as he dropped her foot. "Booth? You stopped!" There was a pause between them, whilst in the background, the noises of the circus continued around them outside, though she vaguely remembered that they wouldn't realise until the morning that it was the sound of dismantling and packing.

"Well, I… You were just…" he looked a little sheepish. "I'm sorry. I was a little taken aback. Are you OK?"

"Yes. Thank you." She stared at him, well aware of the intimacy of the situation, especially now that she knew his true feelings for her, then and in their normal world of some three years later.

"Do you want me to stop? I mean, it's ended up being a little more intimate than I had planned. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable. "

"No, you were doing just fine."

"Did you want me to stop?"

"Not unless you want to. Another drink?"

"Sure. Thank you." Brennan reached around to get the bottle and lost her balance as she twisted, ending up with her head on the bed and her legs up in the air in an ungainly fashion, the bottle still steadfastly sitting on the sill running around the edge of the trailer.

"Woah there! You OK?" Booth grabbed her legs to steady her, his fingers clutching the outside of her thighs, trying not to concentrate on the soft supple skin he found he was holding.

"I'm fine, Booth! Let me just sit up, try to get the bottle again." He held on to her she she leveraged herself, shifting her bottom until she was almost on his lap and using her core strength, pulling herself up again. This time she turned successfully and grabbed the bottle. She took a large swig and passed it over to him. As let go of one leg to take it from her, she felt the loss of the warmth of his hand on her skin and let out a small sigh. He took a gulp of the drink himself and reached out to put the bottle to one side. As he did so, her automatic response was to wrap her arms around his neck to steady herself as he moved.

"Oh." He was surprised at the action.

"Oh." She found herself gazing into a mirror image of amusement and surprise. Their eyes simultaneously moved from the others', to lips, and back again. As if in perfect synchronicity, they leaned into each other at the same moment, mouths meeting in a searing kiss, Booth's left hand still on her thigh, whilst the right had found its way to her back. After a few moments, he pulled back, their combined breaths short, their foreheads resting together.

"Bones," he panted, "We should stop. We've been drinking, the act was pretty full-on, the clothes kinda sexy…" He looked down at her heaving bosom right in front of him. "Scratch that, very sexy. It's totally reasonable we should have, um, what do you usually say... biological urges…?" When this had originally happened, they'd smiled at each other awkwardly, agreed to write the whole thing off and changed into their pyjamas for another awkward night of 'guy hug spooning' and an even more awkward morning after, along with the disappearance of the circus itself. However, Brennan, knowing that in this fantasy world she didn't need to repeat the very definition of insanity, allowed herself to do what she'd wanted to do three years before.

Brennan glanced down at his lips again as if to warn him of her motives, before leaning back in and kissing him slowly and sensually for a few moments, before leaving her lips right next to his as she spoke.

"What if I didn't want you to stop, Booth? What if I told you that the last thing I wanted to do was stop kissing you and whatever else it led to?"

"What about 'biological urges' though? I can't do a one-night stand with you, Bones. You of all people. You're too important to me."

"I don't want a one night stand either, Booth." He looked flabbergasted and delighted all at the same time, an expression Brennan hoped she would give him many times again in the future.

"Does this mean what I think it does?"

"Yes." She beamed at him in way that there was no room for mis-interpretation...


An hour later, clothes strewn all over the floor (not that Brennan was complaining about where Booth left his underwear at this point), Brennan's fishnets well beyond repair, they lay sprawled in bed under the comforter, Brennan's head on her partner's chest, his arms wrapped tenderly around her. He kissed the top of her head.

"Now do you still think I lack imagination?" He laughed.

"I didn't say that."

"Yes you did. You said I was unimaginative." They were still capable of some first-class bickering, even after mind-blowing sex.

"Only for the act," she was quick to clarify. "Clearly you've proven you are far from imaginative.. in other areas…" she chuckled, and she took the opportunity to peck him on the lips again. He took the opportunity to change their positions so he was leaning over her slightly.

"Steady!" He chided her with some humour to his voice. "You mentioned we needed more flair," and used that moment to start kissing down her neck and on to her shoulders.

"We can practice the flair." She gave an uncharacteristic giggle. "Would you like to practice the flair now?"

"That would be an excellent idea…" he mumbled as he headed under the blankets. She gasped and giggled again...

Another while later, Brennan was feeling very satisfied as Booth slept soundly next to her. As she fell asleep in his arms, she didn't notice she was being pulled away into the darkness…


More to follow... ;)