Spoilers: Nope!

Disclaimer: I'm sorry about the lack of updates!

Author's Note: They took my computer away! I've not had it since…Thursday, so here's an extra-special fluff-filled chapter for you all! Enjoy!


As his eyes opened automatically, Booth stuck a hand to his face, covering his eyes protectively. The light from the small ceiling-height window was enough to invoke hangover responses. "Ugh," he groaned. His head whipped around to Brennan when he grunted, suddenly remembering her presence and hoping he hadn't woken her.

He hadn't. She was sleeping as soundly as she'd probably slept in months. He was jealous; his head hurt, his eyes hurt, his mouth was dry. He wouldn't have noticed these if he hadn't woken up. Women and their alcohol! He scoffed to himself, laughing quietly as he imagined the expression on Brennan's face if he had have said that to her.

Or the bruise he would have developed.

Smiling, he watched her sleep for a few minutes. Her blankets were exactly where they were when she'd fallen asleep, thrown haphazardly over her in a feeble attempt at getting to sleep quickly. Her back was to him, but she was so close! For his sanity's sake, he reached over and pulled her blankets up to her shoulders.

He needed to touch her, but was afraid what he would do if he tried to refrain completely. So he settled for the most easily justifiable gesture. 'Sorry, Bones, you were cold'? Yeah. Right, he thought to himself dryly. Still, he pulled her hair from her face, letting his fingers linger on her neck a moment longer than necessary, swallowing thickly.

He pulled his hand away gently but quickly and stood up to leave, making himself a little dizzy in the process. He hesitated for a minute, worried about leaving Brennan in the room by herself. He didn't want her to freak out again, but decided that he'd risk it in lieu of a cup of strong coffee. She looked like she could sleep through a nuclear holocaust.

"Morning!" Laura called as Booth rounded the corner from the stairs into the kitchen. He nodded in acknowledgement, not quite ready to speak yet. She laughed, and he was amazed at how well she'd recovered from the night before. He hadn't had that much, but it had been strong stuff.

"So that's where you've been hiding, huh?" she asked innocently, pointing to wards the stairs to the basement. Booth nodded as he poured two cups already-made coffee and dug around in the fridge for the milk. He held up a finger as he took a sip.

"Ah," he sighed happily. "Now. Why aren't you feeling like crap?" he asked, giving her a Charm Smile. She laughed again.

"I don't get hangovers," she said, opening the newspaper sitting on the bench next to her. Booth looked at her jealously. She only laughed again.

"Lucky you," he mumbled. "Now, speaking of which, I'm going to go give this to Bones." He pointed at the coffee. She normally woke up at abnormally early times, figured she'd be getting up soon.

Laura looked up, a frown creasing her brow ever so slightly. "Why 'Bones'?" she asked curiously. Booth looked a little lost.

"You want one?" he asked, pointing to the coffee maker. She shook her head, smiling.

"No, no. I mean: Why do you call her 'Bones'?" she asked. Recognition suddenly dawned on his face.

"Because she's a forensic anthropologist; she's a bone lady," he said simply, shrugging. She thought for a second.

"Yes, but why do you call her Bones? Does anyone else?" she asked pointedly. Brennan had been right to assume she was a good character reader. Booth grinned.

"Oh!" he said, feigning realization. "You mean the real reason!" Laura laughed and nodded. Booth picked up the two mugs from the bench and made his way to the stairs. On his way past Laura, he leaned close.

"Because she hates it," he whispered conspiratorially.


Setting the coffee down at the head of her 'bed', Booth proceeded to tidy his own. He couldn't think of anything to do, and he really wanted to avoid more prying questions. He, in truth, hadn't told her the real reason. Hell, he'd straight out lied.

Well, at first it was true. She hated it. And she looked so hot when she was agitated, he couldn't help himself. He'd left those details out. He was the kind of person who liked to wind people up, and she was so easy. He'd liked the way she had leaned in so close to tell him off. "Don't call me Bones!"

It had been virtually the only thing she'd said to him for their whole first case.

Then, she'd stopped telling him to stop. He'd almost stopped then, just to annoy her. But he liked calling her Bones. It was something no one else called her. The nickname was a term of endearment, whether she knew it or not. He called her Bones mostly because it was something that separated him from all other people in her life; it singled out their relationship.

As if on cue, Brennan started to stir. Booth grinned as her hand shot to her face as his had. In an oddly childlike gesture, she grabbed her blankets and yanked them up over her face, rolling onto her other side. Booth laughed, and the blankets were pulled tentatively half way down her face.

She groaned at the sight of his smile, and moved further down the bed. Booth laughed again. "Bones..." he sing-songed. "Wakey, wakey!" She made a noise that sounded like an irritated decline. He chuckled and sat down on her mattress, deliberately annoying her. Time to have some fun; he'd been introspective enough for one hung-over morning.

"Go away, Booth," she mumbled. Booth jumped up and down slightly.

"But, Bones, I brought coffee!" he said brightly. A head appeared from underneath the blankets suddenly. Booth grinned, producing the mug as she sat up.

"I think you drunk a little too much, yourself," she said, rolling her eyes. Booth laughed.

"Coffee or alcohol?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow. She took a sip of her coffee, closing her eyes for a moment.

"Both," she smiled. She took another sip, stifling a yawn and trying to shake the sleep from her head. It hurt. She closed her eyes again and put a hand to her forehead, awkwardly rubbing her temples. Her eyes snapped open when Booth took her hand from her head and put one hand on either side of her face, continuing the motion with his thumbs.

He smiled at her. "This isn't easy to do with one hand," he said nonchalantly, motioning to her mug with a nod of his head. She looked at a loss as to how to react. She seriously wanted him to stop, but it felt so good! She closed her eyes, figuring her mental health was probably a little more important than her pride at this very moment.

Booth forced his breathing to stay level. He didn't want to make her uncomfortable, but it looked as if he'd already succeeded in doing that. He settled for silence, concentrating on exactly what he was doing, instead of what he could be doing. To his relief, she broke the silence.

"Anthropologically, acupressure has been around for thousands of years, you know," she started. He didn't stop her rant. He relished the fact that her eyes were still closed, taking it as a small victory; an acknowledgement of his effect on her.

"Yeah?" he encouraged. She didn't miss a beat, now actually wanting to tell him, not just wanting to break the silence.

"Yes, some late Paleolithic remains show evidence of acupuncture..."

He'd stopped listening by this point. He wanted to, to be able to take an interest, but he was far too captivated by her mouth. Stop staring at her lips, Seeley! He yelled internally. His eyes didn't move. He heard her call his name and his eyes snapped up to meet hers. Open.

She was staring questioningly at him. "What?" he asked as if he hadn't heard her question. Not quite getting the meaning behind his staring, she asked again.

"Do I have something on my face?" she asked. He studied her for a few seconds, before smiling, deciding to play a game, instead of make an ass of himself.

"Yeah, you do," he said playfully. She put her hand to her mouth, wiping at the nonexistent something. He studied her for a few seconds, using his hands to turn her head from side to side.

"Oh, no, sorry," he said regretfully. She raised her eyebrows at him, her hand stopped moving. "It's just your nose." He grinned at her and she rolled her eyes, swiping at him half-heartedly with the hand that had just been on her mouth.

Still grinning, he sat up on his knees, moving behind her. She turned her head to give him a quizzical look. "What are you doing, Booth?" she asked, sounding more bored than curious. He put his hands to the base of her skull in response.

Her head dropped forward automatically. She couldn't deny, even to herself, that it felt good, but she told herself that was just because her headache was gone as soon as his hands met her neck. And as far as she was concerned that was because he was good at massaging.

Nothing else to it.

Booth silently cursed himself for not thinking this through before he did it. He had to concentrate equally as hard not to kiss her neck. What made it harder was that now she was actually responding, physically.

Damn it, Seeley. What the hell are you doing to yourself? His brain screamed. His hands didn't move from her neck. "So, what was that about acupressure, Bones?" he asked to mute the silence. Brennan, again, jumped right in.

"I was saying that…"

Booth stopped listening to her words, focusing on her voice. Her voice was calmingly familiar. Being in a strange house had more of an affect on him than he would have admitted to anyone. He liked his space, and he liked his things. Now they weren't here. But Bones was. Besides, her words never made sense, anyway, and it kept his mind off less sentimental subjects.

"You're very good at this, Booth," he caught. He looked at the back of her head and smiled.

"Yeah? You think so?" he asked. He wanted to know.

"Mm," she sighed in agreement as his hands moved to her shoulders. She was boosting his ego, and it wasn't helping either of them stay in control. "But you have to stop." Booth's hands didn't stop.

"Oh yeah?" His interest was easily piqued, now.

She mumbled in agreement.

"Why?" he challenged. He wanted to hear her say this. She thought for a second.

"Because you're too good at it," she decided. Booth chuckled; maybe he was getting somewhere. "I can't lift my coffee."

Booth was instantly torn between laughter and tears. On the one hand, it was a very Bones thing to say. On the other hand, there were so many other things she could have said instead. He settled for laughing quietly and removing his hands. He still couldn't, however, let her have the last say.

As she took a sip of her coffee he leaned forward, his lips to her ear. She stopped.

"Was it worth it?" he asked playfully. Less off put than he would have liked, she took another drink.

"Yes," she lied. "Most definitely."