Booth POV

The next morning breeped loudly into existence. Brennan reached over and slammed a hand down on the largest button on the alarm clock, abusing it into silence.

"I really hate that thing." She confided in me, stretching against me and yawning.

She brewed coffee while I showered, and I found her in the kitchen savoring her first cup. Wordlessly, she reached into the cabinet behind herself and handed me a mug. As usual, the aromatic caffeine did wonders.

The morning was spent companionably as we readied for the day. Seeing as how we had solved the case the day before, both of us were looking forward to a plethora of forms to be filled out in triplicate. I could, at least, briefly escape to collect the tape footage Angela had restored. I like to think that Bones had seemed more cheerful today than she had in the past few days.

I know there was a glint to her smile when we agreed to have dinner at Wong Fu's. I've never seen that glint before. I definitely want to see it again.

Bones POV

I almost laughed aloud when I heard Angela interrogate Booth that afternoon.

"Weren't you wearing that suit yesterday?" Angela's voice was heavily laden with suspicion.

I had been taking a brief break from paperwork and had, after restocking myself with coffee, gone to see if Angela had finished her sketch of the Civil War soldier we were attempting to identify.

"Um, I don't think so." Booth began. "But I might have worn it recently and forgotten when I got it back from the dry cleaners last night."

Angela looked doubtful. "No, I'm pretty sure it was yesterday…" She glanced up at me.

"Hey, Brennan." She greeted me. Booth turned to me with a look of pleading desperation. I smirked, and of course, Angela noticed.

"What was that?" Now the interrogation was directed at me. Great. Before I could answer, Angela continued. "You know, don't you? You know why Booth is wearing the same clothes that he did yesterday." Now Hodgins poked his head in the door.

"What was that?" He scrutinized Booth. "Hey, yeah, I think you're right, Angela."

"Bren, why is Booth wearing the same clothes?" Angela took control of the conversation once again. Booth was red all over, but, apparently hand been able to regain some mental composure, because he snatched the cd Angela had left on the desk in front of her.

"I just came for this, so it can be added to the case file. I'll see ya'll later when, hopefully, your anti-psychotics have kicked in.

"Booth," I finally participated in the discussion. "Neither Hodgins nor Angela take any psychiatric medications to the best of my knowledge."

"It's an expression, Bones, ok? It means that they're acting crazy." He told me with a pointed look as he left Angela's office. Angela and Hodgins looked at each other and started laughing. I decided that I was not likely to get the information about the Civil War soldier, so I retreated to my paperwork where I was temporarily sage from their questions and teasing.

Booth POV

I had nearly escaped the Jeffersonian when I heard Cam's voice.

"Hey, Booth." She called, and I knew pretending I didn't hear her was out of the question. I turned to face her, but wasn't given a chance to even greet her. "Angel told me that you're wearing the same clothes from yesterday." She stepped closer, almost touching me.

I got the distinct impression she was asserting her right to do this as a warning to any other women who might be a threat to her. She needn't have bothered, there's only one woman I love, and, since I'll never have Bones, Cam was in no danger. She helped to ease the loneliness I felt when Bones was not there slightly-a diversion.

"Wanna tell me why?" She quizzed, bringing my attention to her, and away from the auburn anthropologist upstairs. Cam then looked perplexed.

"Wait, if you were out all night, you'd have stubble…but you definitely shaved this morning." She was now examining me the way Hodgins would peruse I new book on mineralogy.

"That's…uh…because I wasn't out all night." I tried to assert and was embarrassed by the lack of conviction in my voice. I also hoped I didn't look flushed, though my face was warm from remembering using Brennan's razor. No man should have to shave with a pink razor sporting a purple grip.

I think Cam must have noticed my blush, because her eyes narrowed with amused suspicion.

Oh, well.

I excused myself with as much composure as possible and didn't run to my SUV no matter how much I wanted to escape immediately. I was grateful for the fact that my coworkers at the Bureau were too busy to notice my wardrobe.