Booth hadn't even seen his own hotel room yet but he knew immediately after stepping foot into Brennan's that it wouldn't compare. Hers was spacious and elegant and the cool air conditioned air was a welcome relief from the stifling heat of outside. He was fairly certain his room wouldn't even come with air conditioning. He would end up another casualty of the FBI's tight hold on their budget.

"I'm going to take a cool bath," she said to him as she rummaged through her suitcase, "This heat is rather unrelenting."

"You sort yourself out Bones I'm going to get myself situated and scope out the best take out places," he said flopping down and groaning appreciatively at the soft couch he fell onto.

"This hotel has twenty-four hour room service," she told him as she headed into the bathroom.

"Oh ho now we're talkin'," Booth said kicking off his shoes and reaching for the room service menu.

By the time she was finished in the bathroom Booth had ordered enough room service to feed ten people and had made himself comfy on the spacious king sized bed in front of the generous flat screen that had appeared as if by magic from the end of the bed. Booth once again found himself watching her as she stepped into the room towel drying her hair. Her long pale limbs were exposed as she was dressed in a simple white tank top and black cotton pyjama shorts. He couldn't hold in the laughter when he recognised the print on her clothing.

"Nice PJ's Bones," he chuckled.

"Oh," she said dropping the towel to the ground and fingering the soft material of her pants that were patterned with skeletons, "Angela thought they were whimsical but I can see that they are anatomically incorrect."

"Food should be here soon," he said as she sat on the bed next to him, "I hope you don't mind I ordered for you."

"Of course," she nodded, "You know what I like."

"Tofu, heavy on the sponge," he grimaced.

"Tofu isn't made of sponge it is bean curd and coagulated soy milk," she told him, "Which as I recall you quite enjoyed last time you had it."

"Still doesn't mean that I don't enjoy a big juicy steak," he smirked.

"So what are we watching?" she asked settling herself on the bed next to him.

"Pre-game," he said, "The actual game isn't on until later."

"It seems wasteful to have a television that appears from the bed as well as one over there in front of the couch," she said, "What is the purpose of this second set?"

"The purpose is that we can lie here all comfy," he said.

"I suppose the lumbar support offered by this bed does seem congruent with a comfortable watching experience."

"That's what I said," Booth said bouncing up and down.

He stopped when his partner sneezed and he looked over at her questioningly.

"You alright Bones?"

"Your incessant bouncing must have stirred up some dust," she told him.

"Or you're getting sick because you didn't get the flu shot."

"Booth you know I don't like repetition," she sighed, "I don't get sick."

"Everything has to happen eventually Bones."

"No, I simply have a more evolved and superior immune system."

"Is that even a thing?" he asked hopping up and heading over to the door when a knock sounded.

"It has been proven by my going over fifteen years without getting sick," she said.

"Fifteen years! Bones you're some sort of super human," he said incredulously paying the room service attendant and accepting the trolley laden down with found.

"Not super human, just intelligent enough to know how to conduct myself in such a way as to avoid the germs that would appropriate in such events."

"Well your sponge food is here," he said as she followed him over to the small sitting area, "I say we dig in and then settle in for a night of hockey," he said rubbing his hands together.

They were silent for awhile as they tucked into their food. Booth noticed after awhile that she wasn't eating her food with the gusto that she usually would and in the time he had polished off two serves of macaroni and cheese and a steak she had only managed to finish half a serve of her tofu and noodles.

"Is your sponge not any good?" he asked.

"No I'm just not that hungry," she shrugged twirling her noodles on her fork.

"Is something wrong?" he asked immediately concerned. It was definitely unlike his partner to be without an appetite.

"It is not unusual for someone to not feel hungry Booth," she said, "I had a big breakfast."

"You had cardboard," he scrunched up his features, "I was there."

"It's not cardboard," she protested, "I've told you that before. Maybe you need to get your hearing checked."

"My hearing is fine," he told her, "But what you had is not breakfast."

"Since I do not wish to finish it do you want the rest of my tofu, considering it would appear you are trying to consume your body weight in food," she said pushing her plate over towards him.

"I'm not trying to eat my own body weight I'm just taking advantage that someone else is footing the bill," he said pushing her plate away, "Not enough to finish that though."

She shrugged and walked back over to where her bags were grabbing her laptop from it's case.

"I thought while you watched your sporting match I could do some work on my new book," she said, "And before you ask you cannot read it."

"I don't see why not," he pouted, "I read them when they're published anyway."

"Yes but that is after I have edited and I do not wish for anyone to read it while it is unpolished."

"I find it hard to believe that you'd write anything that is unpolished Bones," he said pushing the food cart over to the door.

"I agree," she nodded succinctly, "But I believe it is considered rude to not at least consider the fact that one has flaws."

"You just said that I can't read it because it's unpolished," Booth protested.

"I was being modest," she shrugged, "I was sparing you the unhappiness of knowing that I simply didn't want you to read it."

"Fine," Booth said hopping back up onto the bed next to her, "Just keep working on your mysterious novel and I'm just going to watch the game."

"Just like I said," she nodded.

The pre-game commentary wasn't nearly as interesting as it usually would have been. Booth tried hard to concentrate on what was being said but he found his eyes trying to sneak glances at his partner's laptop screen. He had always found her books to be an enjoyable mix of science and romance and while she claimed they held no foundations in her real life he couldn't help but wonder if the characters were truly a representation on how she felt deep down.

"I forgot my charger," she sighed scrubbing her hands over her eyes in frustration, "The battery just died."

"Aww don't worry Bones you'll just have to watch the game with me," he said chuckling at her despondent expression.

"So the excessive shoving is just an outward display of masculinity?" she asked later on, "It serves no purpose to the actual game itself?"

"Well there's some purpose. They were both vying for the puck so a little shoving is...you know what, the shoving is just fun."

"Do you mind turning the air conditioning down?" Brennan asked him.

"You still hot Bones?" he asked frowning. The temperature in the room was nothing short of refreshing and he was quite comfortable lying there in his long sleeved shirt and pants.

"Yes," she nodded, "I'm finding the heat a little uncomfortable."

"You do look a little flushed," he said taking in her pink cheeks and placing his hand on her forehead.

"What are you doing?" she asked pulling away.

"I'm feeling your forehead. You skin is hot and a little clammy," he frowned, "I think you have a fever Bones."

"I do not have a fever," she shook her head, "Hot and clammy skin is fitting with the hot and humid Florida environment such as the one we are in."

"Except we're not in a hot and humid environment right now," he said, "We're in a cool air conditioned hotel room."