Author's Note: I had a really hard time with this chapter. Some people said to bump the rating and get it on already...no. A lot of people said that. But I decided why spoil such a good thing? So here we have it. A couple things that I've wanted to write for a while including Brennan in complete befuddlement when it comes to technowledgy. I just can't see her being able to hook up a TV... hm... Anyway, I hope you like. I'm not sure if I am so fond of this chapter. But some important things are finally confronted in Brennan's mind and I guess that everything that happens here is important later on. Including the TV.

Disclaimer: Clones on Loan
Rating: T for mild innuendo
Spoilers: Nah. Oh, and FYI: In this little world Camille does not exist. That heinous episode where Booth became a man-whore does not exist. And again: this is four years after the first episode. They've had a very long friendship at this point.
Summary: Booth and Brennan fix the TV.

Shout-outs: To Kelsey who endures my ramblings even though you don't watch the show. To all of you who reviewed--even if I haven't been able to write back. To R.H., the keeper and secritary of all my imaginings. And to my muse. Rayden, you are so awesome. I choose you over them all. And as for an answer to your question: Because I've been wanting to since I met you.

Chapter Six: Times for Decisions and for Work

"So where does this thingy go?"

"Push it into the hole with the yellow rim. Good. Now I just have to turn this thing like that and…voila!" Booth grinned broadly as he stood up and looked down at his handiwork. "Now all we have to do is mount this suck on the wall and we're done!"

Brennan looked up at him from her crouching position on the floor with a slight frown on her face. "Is that all?"

"Uh…yeah. Why?" Booth wiped his hands on his pants and leaned down to grab her hand, pulling her to her feet.

"I just thought that it was more complicated than that, is all. I didn't know it could be so simple." Her frown was deepening as she looked down at the assembled TV that they had completed in less than half an hour.

"Well it's not exactly rocket science, Bones." Booth's grin widened cheekily as he moved to grab one side of the TV.

Brennan punched his shoulder playfully, a smile stretching to match his. "So what do we do with it now?"

Booth directed her on how to lift the television and rest it on the hooks that he'd drilled into the walls earlier. It took the rest of the hour to figure out how to get it high enough and when they finally finished putting it into place and drilling it secure, Booth collapsed onto the couch. His head sagged against the cushions and Brennan dropped next to him. Panting, Booth turned to look at her, his goofy smile back.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?"

Shaking her head in agreement, Brennan turned to meet his eyes, a small smile tugging at her lips. Their eyes met and locked, the laughter matching until it began to drain and the air of shared humor drifted away like mist, leaving something more serious and more intriguing behind. They sat like that for a long moment until Booth gently moved closer, his left hand raising to rest against her face. His finger rubbed across her cheekbone as he leaned ever closer, his lips closing in on hers.

Her eyes drooped closed and her lips parted expectantly but instead of kissing her on the mouth as she had expected, his lips drifted to her temple. He pressed his lips against her skin gently before moving a trail of kisses lower down her face to the cheek and the jaw. Her breath hitched and her hands fluttered to her chest and, in response, he moved his hand from her face to the back of the neck, pulling her ever closer.

Pressing the gentlest of kisses on her neck, Booth pulled back to look at her, his brown eyes filled with questions.

"Bones?" his voice was husky, even to his own ears.

"Hmm?" her eyes were still closed and the small smile had returned to her lips.

"What is this?"

Brennan opened her eyes in confusion, searching for the object in question. When she found none and he continued to stare at her she frowned and cocked her head. "What is what?"

"This," Booth said, his hand moving from the back of her neck to move back and forth between the two of them. His meaning stuck her dumb and she raised her legs onto the couch to press against her chest.

Resting her head on her knees, her brow furrowed in thought. "Well," she said slowly after a long pause. "We're partners…and we're friends."

Booth nodded in frustration and he settled his body in a more suitable position so that he could look her eye-to-eye. "But what is this? What are we doing? Is it just physical and nothing more – something that's been pent up for too long? Or is it something different; something deeper?" His mind was hazy and he had to fight against the fog to voice what had been troubling him since the night before. "I need to know, Temperance. I need you to tell me what you want before anything happens or we might both regret it later."

Brennan ducked her head, her forehead moving to her knees so that her face was hidden along with that assiduous blush. Her mind whirled and, unlike Booth, her thoughts were clear as day. Or at least they would have been if they weren't in such a snarled mess. What exactly did she want?

Him, she thought as images flashed into her mind, unbidden. Banishing those thoughts before they could cloud her judgment, she tried to examine her standing with him. Yes, they had been partners for maybe four years and yes, they were close friends. But did she want to extend the parameters of that relationship or did she want to keep it as it was? And if so, how far? Something purely physical or did she want it to be a serious relationship?

As she deftly sorted through the thoughts racing through her head, she remembered a decision she had made in those few months after she broke up with David. During those first lonely nights she had had time to think about the wasted year and a half that she had spent with someone that she did not love. Yes, he was a great kisser and yes he was the kind of man that she could have an on-going friendship with but there had never really been anything more. It was cruel, she supposed, that she had led him on for so long about something so severe. And in those first few nights she had sworn to herself that she would never again live such a lie for such a long expanse of time. Never again would she lie to herself and to those around her.

But here was a chance to be one-hundred-percent honest with herself.

Was she physically attracted to this man? Of course she was. Did she respect and trust him enough to be in a relationship with him? No question about it. Did she love him?

That was the one question that ran circles in her head like a hamster on a wheel and she could almost hear the squeaking.

Some days his simple touch made her feel an overwhelming feeling of belonging; of full clarity about where she stood and who she was. But other days she just wanted to scream with frustration. Angela described it as love but Brennan wasn't so sure.

Or was she?

Cautiously, Brennan lifted her hand to brush against his bottom lip. She spoke slowly and softly as if scared of his reaction. "We're friends. We're coworkers. I trust you with my life." Her hand rested against his face, cupping his cheek gently as her thumb continued to graze his lips. "You make me feel…" she took a deep, shaky breath and started again. "You make me feel scared and safe at the same time. I feel dizzy when you smile at me. All of my reactions to your slightest touch make no logical sense whatsoever." She shook her head. "It makes no sense to me, at least. So when you ask what this is I don't know how to answer." Her finger stilled and her head cocked the other way and her eyes narrowed a little and Booth felt like a specimen under a microscope being scrutinized. It was only a little uncomfortable and that discomfort may have come entirely from the growing heat between his legs.

When Brennan spoke again her voice was barely above a whisper. Booth watched in fascination as a slight smile began to creep into her eyes as they opened. "But I think that I know enough to say that whatever it is I want it."

He wasn't sure exactly what did him in. The sound of her voice, the way that her hand slipped back behind his head and stroked his hair, or the way that her lips parted just a little bit as she leaned up to meet him. All that he knew was that suddenly he was unable to control his hands as he closed in and molded his lips with hers. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on the feel of her hands on his arms and the sound of her soft groan. Red dots covered the back of his eyelids and his head felt light.

Pulling away for air, he gently eased her back onto the cushions of the couch. Moving so that he was straddling her waist, he smiled as his finger brushed up her bare arm and caused gooseflesh to litter her skin. Chuckling very softly at her gasp of appreciation, he leaned back down to kiss her once again.

They surfaced as little as possible, fighting their need for air with their need for contact. Brennan found her hands slipping underneath Booth's shirt as she felt the contours of his muscles. The few breaths that she took were short and ragged. She could feel the weight of him above her and with each kiss she could almost physically feel the walls that had protected her for years crumbling under his lightest touch. She could not think – did not want to – and each motion was purely dictated by desire. She barely faltered when she found her hands moving from his chest to the hem of his shirt and tugged gently and yet frantically to lift it. She had lost all her inhibition.

Booth, however, still had the small voice in the back of his head protesting this sudden turn of events. And when Brennan brought the shirt up and bit his lip to tell him to move his arms, he shook his head, kissed her a few times for good measure, and rolled off of her to the back of the couch. His body was still pressed against hers but he was able to face her and stop the movements of her hands with his own firm grip.

"No," he whispered as he moved his head to avoid her lips. Smiling softly, he pushed her away gently and shook his head. "We can't do this, Temperance. Not here and not now."

Brennan paused for a long time before nodding in agreement. "We have work tomorrow."

Booth stared at her for a moment with an indignant look on his face before a slow smile crept across his face and he began laughing. Hard.

Brennan's face hardened and she glared at him with exasperation as she tried to sit up. His hands moved to her arms to prevent her from moving. "What is so funny?" she demanded.

Booth shook his head and tried to suppress another wave of laughter but was unsuccessful.

"Why are you laughing, Booth?" Brennan demanded again, her tone more aggravated this time. Booth closed his eyes and took a deep breath, a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth.

When he opened his eyes and began to speak his voice was decidedly monotone. "You're worried about work right now? Work, of all things, at this direct moment is the forethought in your mind?" His lips twitched again before he could stop them at the frank look on Brennan's face.

"No but it's the only thing that I can afford to think about right now." Booth let himself smile this time as he raised a hand to trace her lips.

"You're right, Bones." He leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers very gently and teasingly bit her bottom lips, eliciting a small moan. "What with Angela and her psychic abilities…it wouldn't be prudent."

"Actually, Booth," Brennan smiled, licking her bottom lip, "she will probably be much to preoccupied with her own affairs." Booth gave her a confused look and she nodded with a look of quiet consternation. "Hodgins slept over at her place last night."

Booth felt his eyes widen and his lips part in surprise. When he could find his voice it was once again accompanied by an under-current of laughter. "Angela and Jack are sleeping together? And how long have you known this?"

"She called me this morning. I am rather concerned about what may happen at work as a result of it."

"I doubt either of them would allow something like that to interfere with their jobs. They're too dedicated for that to happen." He smiled teasingly and wound a strand of her hair around his finger. "Although I do feel bad for Zack."

"Why?"

"He's kind of out of a loop, don't you think?"

"What do you mean, Booth?"

Booth shrugged. "Jack and Angela sleeping together – you and me…" he waved a hand in the air between the two of them and waited for her nod that signified that she understood. When it came, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer, burying his face in his hair. Inhaling deeply, he made a sound of contentment. "I feel bad for the guy," he repeated as he kissed her neck tenderly.

When his lips reached the gentle spot right behind her ear, Brennan felt herself buck against him involuntarily as a surge of heat coursed through her. "Don't," she whimpered, fighting the urge to press him closer. Her ears were highly sensitive and the small voice in the back of her head was peeved that he had found the spot so soon and so easily.

Booth chuckled darkly and nipped gently at the flesh there. She gasped and her hands went instantly to his hair, her eyes closed, and her hips rose. "God, Booth," she moaned in frustration. "Don't do that."

"You don't seem to mind too much."

Brennan swore threateningly under her breath but pressed him closer as his teeth and tongue explored her skin, clearly taking pleasure in the sounds that she made. "I thought that we agreed not to do this tonight."

Booth shook his head. "No, we agreed not to do this:" and he pressed the length of himself against her. Her head drooped back at the increasing heat as she fought to contain herself.

"You're not helping the decision much."

Booth paused his ministrations and he pulled back, his face thoughtful. After a moment he nodded in agreement and he moved to sit up, her legs draped over his lap. "You're right."

Disappointment gushed through Brennan's veins at the loss of contact and she let loose yet another torrent of swear words in multiple languages. Crossing her arms across her chest she glowered up at him in anger, wishing that looks really could kill at that moment. "That's not fair."

"Bones," Booth spoke the nickname in such a way that a wave of gooseflesh rolled over Brennan's skin. "We have work tomorrow. You said it yourself." They stared at each other, both with the hint of a threat in their eyes. Finally, Brennan sat up slowly, her eyes never losing contact with his as she moved to sit on her knees next to him.

"Booth," she whispered, "I think we can bear to be a little tired tomorrow, don't you?" Booth barely hesitated before pressing his lips tightly against hers and immediately beginning a game of tag with their tongues.

And just at that moment the shrill sound of Booth's cell phone rang through the apartment.

Booth broke away from her, joining her in a string of explicates. Booth felt his pockets and searched the couch and the surrounding floor as Brennan fell back on the couch and glared at the ceiling. He finally located the phone on the floor where it had fallen from his pocket and he opened it, bringing it to his ear. He was unable to suppress the agitation in his voice as he answered.

"Booth." He was silent for a while as he listened to someone on the other line and, as Brennan watched his face, she knew that they were being called in. Good thing the call had come sooner than later, at least. "Yeah. Okay. I'll call her and we'll be there within the hour." He snapped the phone shut and glowered down at Brennan. "Sometimes I hate my job."

Brennan nodded in silent agreement. "Time to go?"

"Yeah. Get your stuff. I'll fill you in on the road. We're going to have to stop at my place, though."

They parted reluctantly and yet as quickly as they could, knowing that the wrong touch would start everything over again and they wouldn't be able to get to work. Booth went into the kitchen, turning on the faucet and splashing water on his face, as Brennan went into her bedroom and changed into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. Silently, they met back in the living room and left the apartment together, the tension still lingering and still as tangible. It was time to go to work.

So there you have it. Please give me reviews and tell me if it's okay. I find it very difficult to write good make-out scenes. It's pathetic but I find it easier to write less...consensual things, if you get my meaning. (For example: Just Another Statistic was easy compared to this.)

And don't you just love it when calls in the middle of something? So much better than birth control these days.

And P.S. I am on a quest for a beta. Please send applications (or at least tell me you're interested.) I would especially like help polishing the said make-out scenes in which I am so horrible. Thanks a ton for reading!

P.P.S. I am doing casework next chapter! Yeah!

(I use my jedi-mind thing-a-ma-bob to compel you into pushing that little blue/gray button)