A.N.: I typed as fast as I could (even while at work… uhm…) since you reviewed like people who loved it :) I love you back!

Chapter 11
Dizzy Mess

Booth walked to the back of the car, opened the door and looked down at Brennan, who was sound asleep. He gently poked her arm.

"Bones…"

No reaction. She looked peaceful. Who the hell looks beautiful after drinking themselves to sleep? She did. He tried to shake her shoulder a little.

"Bones, wake up."

She mumbled or moaned. She wasn't going to wake up. He smiled and took her out of the car, careful not to bump her head on anything. One arm under her knees, the other wrapped around her back, he shut the door with his foot and looked at his apartment building. Why couldn't he have lived on the first floor? He secured his grip on her, which was difficult while holding his keys in one hand, and walked up the staircase. On the midway up, he sensed the skin of her face pressing onto his neck. She was snuggling. He tried to ignore the chills in his body to concentrate on reaching his floor… but he dropped his keys and they ended up a couple of stairs bellow. He paused, cursed quietly, and located them a few feet away from him. There was no way he could go back to get them while holding Brennan. Once in front of his apartment door, he tried to wake her up again. She would have to stand or sit and wait for him while he went back for his keys.

"Bones…"

"Mmm."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and he felt her fingers dug through his hair.

Dear God!

"Dr. Temperance Brennan is needed back on Earth…" he whispered near her ear.

"Mmm. Wha…t?"

He chuckled.

"Bones? You awake?"

"Booth?"

Where was she? Why was she in his arms? Was she hurt? Was she dying? She felt like she was dying.

"You ok?" he asked, careful not to speak too loudly and wake everyone in the building.

"I don't know."

She looked around, confused and a little dizzy.

"I'm gonna put you down, ok?" he warned her.

"Thanks for carrying me. But you could have woken me up."

"Of course, why didn't I try?" he kidded.

She was on her feet now. She wasn't too steady, but at least she was standing.

"I dropped my keys in the stairs. I'll be right back, ok?"

She didn't want him to go anywhere. She wanted him to hug her again.

"You don't need your keys. You have your credit card."

It took him a couple of seconds or so to understand what she was saying, and by the time he started laughing, she had taken his wallet out of his pocket.

She opened it. There was so much stuff in there, how was she supposed to know which card would open the door? She forgot what she was looking for when she saw a condom, hidden inside a compartment where you usually put photos. She took it out.

"Huh," she said, holding it up. "It's not used!"

His cheeks were burning red.

"Why would I keep a used condom in my wallet?" he asked.

He tried to take it back, but she was shifting on her feet a little, swaying to the alcohol, and he was scared to tip her over if he tried too hard.

"Give it back…" he pleaded.

"You should throw it out," she suggested.

Why? Because you know I don't have sex at all? That I didn't have sex in… Shit.

"It expired in February 2008…" she let out. Then she heard her own words… and started laughing uncontrollably.

"It's real funny," he groaned.

"I'm sorry!" she exclaimed, trying to stop laughing, which made her crack up even more.

"Shhh, you'll wake the neighbors."

"I'm drunk," she stated through her hands, clapped onto her mouth.

"Yes, you are. Now come on, let me go get my keys."

He was back before she knew he was gone. As soon as she set foot in the apartment, she took a step back and bumped into his hard chest.

"That's not my apartment," she realized.

Booth laughed and pushed her forward. "You're at my place. You locked your keys in your car, remember?"

"Right…"

He set his keys on the table by the door.

"I'll be right back," he said, heading to the bathroom to get Aspirin.

When he came back with the pills and a glass of water, she hadn't moved at all.

"Here you go."

"I don't have a headache," she told him, taking the medicine in one hand and the glass in the other.

"Don't argue with me," he said.

She obeyed and handed him back the empty glass. When he came back from the kitchen, she was gone.

"Bones?"

He found her sitting on the edge of his bed, trying to take off her shoes. Knowing she wouldn't ask for help, he kneeled in front of her and took over. One hand on her calf, he smoothly slipped one shoe off. She didn't complain and held up the other leg. He looked up at her. She was staring at him. Intensely. Then her face got weird.

"What are you doing? Are you gonna be sick?" he asked.

"I'm smiling," she explained, trying even harder.

"You're not smiling."

She shook her head.

"No! With my eyes!" she exclaimed.

Booth laughed.

"Oook, Tyra."

"I'm Bones."

"I know who you are," he softly let out. He was still holding her ankle.

Unable to break eye contact, Brennan felt a compression inside her chest. Her breath was stuck there.

"Booth? Are you scared?" she murmured.

"Of you? At the moment, a little, yeah."

"No! About Sweets and the meeting with the Man and… the possibility of us breaking up."

Her choice of words made his heart sink. She was worried. He put his palms on her thighs, just above her knees and his thumbs slowly swayed back and forth.

Her thighs were burning. Her face too. Her heart was racing. She looked down at his hands, wondering how that simple touch could stimulate such a response. But she shouldn't have looked at his fingers, because he got all self conscious and got up, unknowingly leaving her with a weird sensation of loss.

"Maybe we should corroborate with Sweets," she proposed.

"You mean cooperate."

"That's what I said."

He smiled.

"Yeah, we should," he agreed. "So… From now on, we do as he says without complaining?"

"Just until we're cleared. Then we can complain."

"Yeah."

She bit down on her lip. The thing when you're drunk is that, when you feel the urge to say something, you can't stop yourself even though you know you should keep quiet.

"Because… I need you," she said. She looked up, waiting for him to turn to her. When he did, she didn't look away. But she explained herself.

"Because… you know… I can't get a warrant or get a conviction on my own."

He put on the smirk he often had, that smirk which always told her when he had read through her. He sat on the mattress. Very close to her. She babbled on.

"And you need me, too."

"Yes, I do," he confirmed, turning his head to her. The three inches separating their faces seemed really shorter than that. The air got thicker. They should have been used to it, by now, but they still got extremely nervous every time that tension floated in. Brennan exhaled through the nerves.

"You need me because you can't read markers on a bone," she sounded relaxed and nonchalant, but she was holding the fabric of the comforter tightly in her fist.

"Right," he distractedly answered. His gaze caressed her face. He couldn't take advantage of her. She was way too drunk. He couldn't make the first move. But if she did, he would allow himself to make the second. Kiss me.

When her eyes dropped to his lips, she parted hers and took a shaky breath. Kiss me. She heard herself beg inwardly and it scared her. If he had wanted to kiss her, he would have done so by now. She repressed a cry of frustration and looked away.

"I don't see why Sweets would severe our partnership. We obviously are well equipped to keep a professional… professionalism."

Well said.

"I'm tired," she let out, trying to excuse her less than stellar drunken vocabulary.

Booth got up, pulled the covers for her.

"Here," he said.

"Thanks for letting me stay here tonight." She got under the blankets and, although her body was still screaming for him to join her, she instantly dozed off.

He leaned over and kissed her forehead. His lips stayed on her skin a little too long, but she didn't know.

"I'm sorry I missed your birthday," he whispered before shutting the door behind him. Parker's bedroom it is.

***

When she woke up, she couldn't open her eyes. Her head wasn't pounding, but she felt heavy. Heavy, but also floating, like if she were stuck on a raft in the middle of a storm. Her mouth was dry and pasty. She managed to sit up, eyelids still glued together. Maybe she had been hit by a bus. Maybe she had just woken up from major surgery.

"Good morning!" Booth's chipper voice startled her.

Her eyes flew open, but she shut them again, blinded by the morning light. She tentatively tried to look again and spotted him in the doorway, holding a glass of water. She vaguely remembered why he was there. She was at his place. Like in slow motion, her thoughts cleared up. She cautiously took a deep breath, wondering if she was going to throw up, and realized she was not.

"Hi," she croaked before clearing her throat.

He walked up to her and handed her the glass. She took it and raised it to thank him. She would need a minute before she could speak again. She gulped it down and gave it back to him.

"I left a towel out of you in the bathroom, if you want to take a shower," he said.

She nodded, closing her eyes and massaged her forehead. She would never drink like that again. Damn Angela. Damn birthday. Damn Booth, so… good looking and happy this morning. She probably looked the way she felt: like crap. This was embarrassing. She never intended for him to see her that way. She wished he would just leave her to die.

"I'll uhm…" She cleared her throat again and tried to speak up. "Thanks."

"No problem."

He finally left. She thought she saw him sneer at her, but she couldn't be certain. As soon as she felt ready, she got up and paused to make sure the room wouldn't spin. And she quickly locked herself in the bathroom.

She took the longest shower ever and it helped majorly. She felt way better; not as intelligent– good thing she wasn't working today- but better. She wiped the steam off the mirror and examined her face. Her twenties were definitely behind her, but at least she didn't look dead anymore. She pinched her cheeks to give her face some color and tried to brush her hair with her fingers since there was no comb in sight. It didn't really work. She opened the cabinet. Maybe there was one in there. Shave cream. Aftershave. Electric razor. Aspirin. Soap. Band-aids. Vitamins. Cough syrup. Cologne. She closed it back. You can't, she told herself. But her fingers found the handle again and pulled the cabinet door open. Don't. They reached for the Cologne bottle. What do you think you're doing? She took the cap off and bit her lips together before bringing it to her nose. As soon as she whiffed it, her heart skipped a beat. You're an idiot. She put it back in place, making sure it was in the exact same position as before, and shut the door. He's your partner. You're in danger of losing him for kissing him back. You've gotta stop this right now. Confusion. Anger. Shame. She wondered when she had started feeling that way. It wasn't new, but she couldn't pinpoint the exact moment. Knowing when would surely have helped her understand why. Move on.

She got out of the bathroom, shaking off her hair to help it dry. The entire apartment was filled a delicious aroma. Her nose followed the vanilla scent and she ended up in the kitchen. Booth was setting a second plate on the table. French toasts, cottage cheese and strawberries. She smiled.

"You didn't have to do this," she said.

He poured two cups of coffee and pulled her a chair.

"I felt like cooking, that's all."

She sat down. It looked really, really good. Though she was in no way hungry, she would make sure he didn't know. This was nice.

"And I thought you wouldn't feel like eating out," he added.

He sat on the other side of the table. He took one of the slices of bacon he had kept for him and handed it to her.

"Want some?" he asked, knowing too well the face she was going to make.

And there it was. Her nose crinkled and her lips curled up.

"I'll pass," she simply said.

"The best cure for hangovers is greasy food." And he put the entire slice in his mouth, eyes shut in delight. "Mmmm."

She smiled at his boyish attitude and put a strawberry in her mouth. After a couple of minutes of silence, she swallowed a sip of coffee and spoke up, avoiding his eyes.

"I'm sorry you had to see me like that last night."

"I'm not!" he said, giddy. "You were funny!"

"How so?"

"You blew up a condom like a balloon."

Wide-eyed, mouth open, she went to deny it, but realized she didn't remember much of last night. She tried anyway.

"I did not," she objected, uncertain.

"You did!" he laughed. "Remember? You took it out of my wallet, said it was expired…" he dragged on, trying to jug her memory.

She did remember that, but she had not… Or had she?

She looked petrified and he burst out laughing.

"I'm kidding," he confessed. "But you were so wasted, it could have happened."

She relaxed a little and took another bite. That would have been incredibly stupid and uncharacteristic of her. Much like prank calling him at 1 a.m., she recalled, embarrassed.

"This is really good."

"It's Parker's favorite."

"I thought he was a bacon man, like his daddy."

"Bacon is normal, French toast is special."

He had made her a special breakfast? She tried not to blush.

"So! Had a good time, last night?" he asked, trying not to sound too curious.

"As much as I recall, yes."

"Did… uhm… Cal join you?" he said, nonchalant, just like he had rehearsed in his head. He wanted to check, just to see if she would tell him they were not together and hadn't been in weeks.

She focused on her strawberries. Why was he talking about Cal?

"… No."

She begged him inwardly to change the subject. If he found out she wasn't dating Cal anymore, that she hadn't told him, she knew it would turn into a big deal.

"Why not?" he continued. "Was he on another business trip?"

She couldn't confirm nor deny it; she didn't want to flat out lie to him.

"I don't know," she shrugged. She got up to refill her cup of coffee. Once her back turned to him, she shut her eyes. She wasn't going to get out of this one, she knew that much. She quickly tried to understand herself: Why hadn't she told him about her breakup? All the reasons she came up with sounded ridiculous to her, and they would to him, too.

"You don't know?" he repeated.

"Can we talk about something else?" she asked, walking back to the table.

"Sure. Why didn't you tell me you broke up with Cal?"

Busted.

"He broke up with me," she rectified.

He should have felt bad, but he was just angry with her. He tilted his head in a come-on-now type of way. She sighed.

"Who told you?" she wanted to know.

"That's not important. I'd just like to know why you didn't tell me."

She pushed her plate away from her. She was done pretending to be hungry.

"Look, I'm sorry your ego got bruised, but I don't feel well, and I don't want to talk about it. Can you please just drop it and drive me to my car?"

"My ego?! Bones, you're… Gah! Why won't you just answer me?"

"Because it's none of your business!" And because everything in my life has you stamped all over it! Can't I have just one thing that doesn't have anything to do with you? I used to be my own person.

"I'm not asking the details of the breakup! I don't even care who dumped whom or why or when. I just would like to know why you didn't trust me enough to tell me about it."

"It has nothing to do with trust!"

"Of course it does!"

"Booth, it's not…" She shut her eyes and tried to think. Her head was now killing her. "Please. Can we do this later?"

"Whatever."

He got up and grabbed his keys.

"I thought you wanted to get back to your car. Let's go!"

He didn't wait for her and left. She stayed still a few seconds. As painful as this was, it was less mortifying than to tell him the truth. Even the silent treatment he gave her during the car ride to the bar was bearable.

Once there, she saw her purse on the backseat and checked to see if her car doors really were locked. They were. She took out her cell phone, ignoring Booth. She needed a locksmith or something.

Booth opened his trunk and took a long and flat metal tool.

She saw him approaching her car with it before she could dial the directory assistance number.

"What's that?" she asked, concerned.

"A Slim Jim."

"What's it for?"

She put herself between him and the car. He was not going to get that thing near her beautiful convertible.

"I'm gonna use it to unlock the door."

"No, you're not."

He tried to push her aside.

"Bones, come on. I've done this a hundred times."

"You're telling me that was in your FBI training manual?"

He sighed.

"I used to steal my dad's pick-up truck all the time."

"Yes, well, this is a brand new car. I doubt your obsolete and rusty tool there is gonna do the trick."

"If you let me try, I'm sure I'll…"

She didn't let him finish.

"Booth, I said no."

Unbelievable! Pissed, he walked back to his trunk, threw in the Slim Jim and slammed it back shut.

"Fine! You wanna pay for a locksmith, go ahead. I'm not gonna stop you."

"My insurance will cover it," she said.

"Yes, of course. I'm gonna go finish my breakfast in peace while you spend your day waiting for the professionals." He got into his car and slid the passenger window down so she could hear him. "And, by the way, next time you need help at 1 a.m., feel free to call someone else."

And he drove off. She watched his car until it disappeared, far ahead. Then, she leaned on the hood of her vehicle, cell phone in hand. She felt bad. She was about ready to cry, but she didn't let the tears flow out. She swallowed them. He had until Monday to cool down and forgive her. And she knew he would. Right?

***

On Monday morning, she arrived at work with a sensation of dread. They had another session with Sweets, and she had no idea if Booth was still upset with her. She didn't wonder for long.

When she walked into the lab, she saw everyone standing on the platform. Booth was there, too, laughing with Cam. She swiped her card in and went up to join them.

"Hi, sweetie," Angela greeted her. "You still hungover?"

She glimpsed at Booth for an indication on his mood, but as soon as their eyes met, he looked away. She decided to let it go and answered her friend.

"I'm good."

"How was the sleepover?" Hodgins asked.

Booth and Brennan both looked at Hodgins, wondering how he even knew, but Angela smacked him on the arm and they got their answer.

"Booth makes excellent French toasts," she said, glimpsing at him. He was still avoiding her eyes. Ok, so complimenting him won't work.

Cam sensed there was something wrong between them. She tried to move things along.

"Don't you have a meeting with Sweets in a few minutes?" she asked them.

"Yes," Booth said. "Another mandatory waste of time. How lovely."

Everyone could see he was sulking. They all looked at each other, wondering what the hell had happened. Brennan turned to Booth, but before she could open her mouth, he was leaving the platform and going out the door. She wondered for a second if she had to run after him or drive herself there. She looked at Angela, a surprised and confused look on her face.

"Go!" her friend hushed.

And she went.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Hodgins asked around.

"You think they finally slept together?" Cam verified.

"If they did, they would be in a better mood, I hope," Angela quipped.

***

Sweets was already waiting for them when they arrived.

"Good morning!" he almost cheered.

Following Booth's lead, she sat down on the couch. Far away from him.

"Did you open my present?" the young doctor inquired, hopeful.

"Not yet," she admitted.

"It's alright. It's nothing big. I don't even…"

"Can we get started?" Booth cut him short.

Brennan stared at the carpet. She hadn't grasped until now how angry he still was. She felt worse than ever.

"Wow, ok. Uhm…" Sweets tried to gather his thoughts quickly. Booth had always been intimidating, but he had never seen him so harsh. He shook his head to get in the game. The exercise he had in store for them would have to wait a little. There was clearly something wrong between them.

"Did you two…" Slept together, perhaps?

"We're fine," Booth answered.

Brennan turned to him to see if he was telling the truth. He was not. She clenched her fists. His grumpiness was eating at her.

"Ok," Sweets started, "I suggest you get all the negative energy out in the open. Say what you feel right when you're feeling it, ok? It will help avoid build-ups."

Brennan sighed and decided to go first.

"I'm feeling quite angry at the moment."

"And I'm pissed," Booth let out.

"Good!" Sweets raised his arms. Finally! They were participating. "Good! Let it out! Why are you angry?"

Brennan was about to try and verbalize her aversion to Booth's attitude, but her partner went first.

"Because Bones lied to me."

"What?!" she burst out. "I never lied to you!"

"Ever heard of a lie by omission?" He looked straight at her for the first time since Saturday.

She blinked. "You are completely over reacting."

The argument was heating up. Sweets wondered what he was doing there. His eyes swept from him to her and to him again and again.

"Over reacting? For weeks you led me to believe you were dating that guy when he was already old news!"

"Why would you care if I'm dating someone or not?!"

"I don't care! I don't! I just care that you are honest with me. I hate feeling like an idiot."

"How is this making you feel like an idiot?"

"I don't understand why…"

"And I don't understand how it is relevant to you. We don't tell each other everything."

"Well, I thought we were. My mistake." He turned away, arms crossed over his chest.

"When's the last time you talked to me about your dates? Huh? Never, that's when." Then she went for the stab. "Or maybe that's why your condoms are past their expiration date, but that's not my problem." She turned away, too, folding her arms together.

Sweets eyes got so wide at her mentioning his condoms that his eyeballs got dry.

Booth snorted, shaking his head. I give up. She was so stubborn, there was no dealing with her.

The silence that followed was loaded. Even Sweets, the professional therapist, had no idea how to defuse them.

Brennan didn't know –and didn't want to learn- psychology, but she knew damn well this evaluation was not going to help. If the FBI decided to judge them on this moment, they were done. She felt a twinge of panic inside. She turned to Sweets.

"Can we have a minute?" she quietly asked. Her voice was so soft and sad, the empathic Sweets felt like crying. Still staggered by it all, he simply nodded and left his own office.

"Why did you make him leave? This session is going to last forever. We've got work to do."

"Yes, we've got work to do. But do you still want to work with me?"

"Of course," he mumbled.

Well, that sounded convincing.

She waited until he looked at her.

"No, think about it. Are you sure?" she continued. "Because this is your chance if you want him to reassign me to another agent."

"What are you talking about? This is just a little bump in the road. We're stronger than one fight."

"But we need a good evaluation from Sweets. We need to…"

"Corroborate," he remembered her saying. He finally smiled faintly, turned up the charm.

"You mean cooperate."

"That's what I said."

Booth took his time and gazed at her face until she looked away. She was right; he was acting like an idiot. So what if she wanted him to think she was dating someone? So what if she wanted him to think she was even more off limits than she really was? They had a partnership to save.

Brennan didn't do this often, but she promised herself she would tell him the truth soon. As soon as she felt she was ready to look like an imbecile. Not today. But soon.

"Now, can you smile?" she asked. And he did his best to give her the hugest fake teethed smile ever. She laughed. "Good. Don't move, I'll go get the boy."

When she came back with the doctor, the atmosphere was much lighter. Sweets decided to ignore their outburst for now and to forget his planned exercise. He would go with the flow.

"Today, we're gonna learn to read body language to detect lies."

"Aw, come on, now!" Booth couldn't help but interject. Brennan stiffened on the couch as he continued. "I've had those types of classes in Quantico."

"Booth!" Brennan hushed him.

He ignored her. "Plus, I don't need you to teach me. I'm a natural. I always know when I'm being lied to."

She turned to him. She thought they had an understanding. No whining, no complaining until they were out of trouble. As soon as their eyes met, he winked at her and she instantly relaxed. He was putting on a show for Sweets. She hid a smile by pinching her lips together and looked back at the psychologist.

"I think I'm getting better, too. Booth taught me some tricks over the years. A high pitched tone of voice is a good indicator. The lack of eye contact can be one, too. And…"

"Ok, I get it," Sweets said. "You're experts. Then, I'll give you your assignment for today and you can leave early, how does that sound?"

Assignment?

The partners didn't need to look at each other to respond in perfect synchronization.

"Great," they answered in unison.

"Ok. So it's simple..."

What the hell was he gonna make them do? Sweets had no idea. He had to improvise. Let's see... Uhm... Right!

"You have to be completely honest with each other for the whole day. So no lies until midnight. Not even the smallest one."

"It's 9:15 a.m.," Brennan said.

Sweets failed to see the point.

"So?"

"So, it's not even 15 hours until midnight. That's not a whole day."

"Are you two planning to spend the night together to make it a full 24?"

"What?! No!"

"No! I'm just saying…"

Sweets held back a smirk. They loved making them squirm.

"I suggest you take this opportunity to talk, exchange and learn about each other. Try to notice every time you wouldn't normally be completely, 100% honest. Alright?"

"Easy."

"Sure."

"Great," Sweets concluded.

Neither of them moved a muscle. They were trying not to look at the other.

"That's all. You can leave now."

They both got up without a word or a nod and walked out the door.

As soon as the door shut behind them, they froze and breathed out.

"Well…" Brennan looked up at him.

"Does he think we spend all of our time lying to each other?"

"Sure looks like it."

She pressed the elevator button.

"Well, it's gonna be an easy assignment," he said.

The elevator door opened and she went inside. Booth stood outside, waiting for her to agree.

"We've got nothing to hide, right?" he insisted.

She started to nod, but realized almost instantly she was about to commit her first lie of the day. So she smiled instead and pressed the button to shut the doors.

"Whoa! What's that look mean?! Bones!"

The doors closed and, alone, she went down.

--------------

TBC…

Next chapter? There's a birthday gift from Booth in Brennan's office that she hasn't seen yet. We get revelations from Brennan. Revelations from Booth. And maybe some action. If you're nice. And if you think they are ready.