Title: Baring It All
Author: Tom's gg
Chapter: 5/29
Chapter Title: I Hate Myself For Loving You
Characters: Brennan/ Booth
Rating: M - Strong Sexual Content
Spoilers: none

I do not own the characters- that distinction belongs to FOX… but God I wish I did!

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Uth Oh… a SUPER long chapter for this particular fic… I'm SO SORRY… I hope you all make it through!

This Chapter is once again dedicated to my wonderful husband. The research for my fictions is just BRUTAL on him!

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Booth sighed as her wet embrace enveloped him. Her teeth and nails bit into his flesh, transferring her pain and rage to him.

"God Damn you Seeley… God damn you for making this feel so good," she moaned.

Her words cut his soul the way her nails cut his flesh. He wanted to tell her that he could live on the memory of her touch… her taste, forever, but the feeling of her sliding along his length was so much better than all of the memories… so much more.

"Bones… I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry…" he cried.

Her kiss had a desperation he'd never felt from her before. Their tears ran into his mouth; they tasted bitter. It occurred to him that what they were doing now was no different then those fetish freaks with their dog and pony show. They were both pretending- ignoring the big pink elephant between them.

He pulled his lips from hers. "I can't Bones… we can't."

Brennan was surprised by the sudden withdraw of his lips. She was even more surprised when he lifted her off of him. "What the He-… Booth?"

"I'm not gonna fuck you Bones. I'm not gonna be that guy."

Booth quickly gathered his pants and redressed. He'd been so close to release, it was difficult to readjust himself.

When he stood before her completely dressed, Brennan became aware of her own nakedness. She grabbed her shirt and shorts off the floor.

"I don't understand Booth," she sneered at him. "You were perfectly willing to put on a show for that lunatic and all of your little FBI buddies. What's the matter? I'm not enough of an audience for you?"

She pulled her t-shirt and shorts on and stormed into the kitchen. She wasn't willing to give him the satisfaction of going to hide in her room again. All of the unspent adrenaline ramped up her rage to a nice rich boil.

Booth stationed himself at the doorway of the kitchen. "Is that what you think?" he murmured. "Is that what you really think that was all about?"

"I think you said you were giving me a choice Booth. You said you were giving me a choice, and I chose you. But, I never really had a choice… did I? The whole time you were just playing a game. It was all an illusion… right?"

The whole time she ranted at him she pulled food containers from the fridge. With her last accusation, she slammed the carton of noodles down with such force that they exploded across the counter. The tears she'd been trying so desperately to control began to flow.

Booth covered the distance between them and folded her into his arms.

Brennan wanted desperately to push him away. She hated the fact that she needed him so badly. When had she allowed herself to become so dependent on him? When had her happiness become so intrinsically tied to his?

There were a million things that Booth wanted to say to her; a million confessions burned the tip of his tongue. Somehow, the words couldn't fight their way to the surface of the fear.

They stood there frozen in time. There was no way for them to go back, and neither of them knew quite how to go forward.

When the tears were gone, and there was no longer an excuse to hold her, Booth released her. Where there had been quiet comfort was now uneasy politeness. She continued to prepare herself some food, and he cleaned up the mess.

At some point, the phone rang, and Booth was called away for more questioning. While the Agent in Charge had authorized the sniper to take any clear shot, Booth had been the one to pull the trigger. There were questions to answer; an investigation was standard.

Brennan roamed the rooms of the apartment after he left. She had been placed in an awkward situation. As a victim, she would no longer be able to participate in the investigation. She'd be forced to stand back and watch others do the job she was more capable of.

At some point she decided to call Angela. She wasn't sure what to say. The whole truth clearly wasn't an option; it would require too many explanations. She was glad she hadn't talked to Angela about her and Booth's recent activities. Yet, lying to Angela never worked out well either. Brennan decided focusing on the fact that they had caught the rapist and would be home soon was the best course of action.

An hour later Brennan hung up the phone. She felt comforted, if not confident, about the future. Angela seemed to sense her reticence and was supportive without being difficult. It was a reminder of why this woman had become such an important part of Tempe's life. There would come a time when Angela would push and prod and demand answers, but she had known instinctively that this was not the time.

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Booth and Brennan spent the next few days trying desperately to avoid each other. Booth went to the FBI offices every day to help tie up loose ends, and Brennan went to the hospital. Noanie had woken for her coma. She had very little memory of what had happened to her.

The day after the shooting, Daytona had been swept up in a heat wave. Combined with the Florida humidity, the days became almost unbearable, and the nights weren't much better.

On the third night, Brennan found it impossible to sleep. The clock read 2AM. She and Booth were scheduled to fly out the next day. She walked out to the kitchen to get a glass of cold ice water and again found the balcony doors open. Booth stood in the moonlight; an empty bottle of Corona sat on the patio table still glistening with sweat.

Booth was wearing nothing but his jeans again; they were unbuttoned. Brennan's mind drifted to another night a week ago. An overwhelming sense of déjà vu swept through her. While everything seemed so familiar, she knew that they were two very different people now.

"You can see the stars better here than in DC," Booth mused, startling her from her own thoughts. "There's Leo." He pointed to the night sky.

Brennan gazed at the sky briefly before focusing on him again. His eyes were on her now and the need and desire that lay behind them was impossible to miss, even in the moonlight.

"I've always been partial to Delphinus," she replied.

"I know."

Somehow the distance had closed between them. Temperance wasn't a small woman, and even at 6'2" Booth didn't tower over her. Yet, he was tall enough to make her feel protected in his arms. She longed for that feeling at this moment.

They stood inches apart, their breath mingling. "Are you cold?" Booth husked.

"No, I came out because I was hot," she sighed.

"You have goose bumps," he explained as he ran his thumb up her arm.

Their eyes locked as the electricity coursed through them.

"Booth, I…" "I know."

"We should…" "Yeah!"

And like moths to the flame, they were in each others arms. Their lips devoured each other. All rational thought was swept away in the wake of their desire. Booth lifted her and carried her into the apartment. Her arms and legs wrapped around him, but their tongues never missed a beat in their intricate dance.

He was headed past the spare room to the master suite when she reached out and grabbed the door frame.

"Your room. Your bed," she whispered into his ear as her tongue danced along his jaw and neck.

He deposited her on the bed and quickly removed his own jeans.

As Booth undressed, Brennan pulled off her t-shirt. The only thing that lay between them was her boxers and panties. She reached to grab them, but he stopped her hands. He sat beside her on the bed and slowly pulled the boxers down her hips, leaving the panties in place.

Booth began to run his fingers over the planes of her body. He wanted to memorize each line, every detail. The thought of losing her, of never again seeing her spread before him like this, terrified him. He swept his hand over her right nipple, and it was as though he could feel the heat from the increased blood flow. He slowly lowered his head and give it two quick flicks with his tongue before he latched on.

Brennan felt as though she were being tortured, but it was the kind of sweet torture that made you want to plead and beg for more; for it to never end. His hands played across the soft curves of her body, and his mouth and tongue worked together to send her entire being to a whole new reality. When his hand stealthily slipped into the delicate triangle of fabric she was lost.

"Oh My God… Oh My God," she cried, and her first orgasm came before he'd even removed her underwear.

Booth stood up and pulled her to the side of the bed. He gently removed her soaked panties, then grabbed a pillow and placed it under her hips.

"What are you doing?" she laughed.

"Shhh," he soothed.

Booths hands returned to explore her body again as he stood between her spread legs. He leaned over her, putting all his weight on his bulging biceps and kissed her lips; a deep, warm, inviting kiss. Then, his lips replaced his fingers as they moved down her body.

He nipped at the soft round curves where her breasts met her torso. His tongue swirled around her naval before dipping into it. All the while, she could feel the heat of his skin pressed against her labia. Brennan could feel her juices flowing up to meet the heat of his touch.

Just when she thought he would begin to explore her folds with his tongue, he pulled up and his crown was at her entrance. He slid into her in one quick thrust. The angle of her pelvis caused his tip to stimulate the sensitive ridges on the roof of her vaginal walls and Brennan could not control the waves of her second orgasm as they swept her away.

Booth had to still his hips as her muscles contracted around him. His hand moved to work her clit and increase her pleasure. When she finally began to still he resumed his motion.

"This is it Bones," he moaned. "This is you and me, and it's as real as it gets."

Brennan heard his words as they floated to her from the distance, but her mind couldn't process their meaning while his cock was fingering her g-spot.

Booth could sense as her third climax began to build and increased his rhythm in order to meet her. When her walls began to constrict around him, he road the waves, thrusting harder and deeper between her spread legs until he spilled his seed deep inside her.

Booth collapsed on the bed beside her. They lay there panting; completely spent, yet exhilarated at the same time. It wasn't until Booth reached for her that she froze.

Brennan pulled from his embrace and quickly hopped off the bed. She gathered up her clothes and began to make her way towards the door.

"Bones?"

"Look… Booth," she muttered, unclear how to explain herself. "This has to end here. There is an obvious physical attraction between us. And, I know you thought you were doing the right thing. But I need to be able to trust you, and right now I can't do that. We need to leave this part of our relationship behind when we get on that plane tomorrow. Focus on our work again."

Booth eyed her through his lashes, reading every nuance of her tone and body language.

"What you mean is you need to control me," he replied. He slowly pulled himself off the bed and made his way towards her; his tight musculature rippled with tension.

"This has nothing to do with trust Bones. If it did you wouldn't be so willing to work with me any more. This is all about control."

Booth stopped to measure the affect his words were having on her. Her back stiffened in defiance, but the fear had crept back into her eyes.

"Well," he continued, "you can control your little experiments in the lab Bones, but you can't control people. You can't control some crazy psycho who enjoys beating woman half to death, you can't control a cannibal serial killer, and you can't control me." He had slowly advanced on her, forcing her to inch her way out into the hallway.

"And, I think you're gonna find this little 'physical attraction' as you call it hard to control as well." He leaned in close enough for her to feel his breath on her cheek and whispered. "Don't worry Bones, the balls in your court. You have complete control of this situation." He paused. "Just hope I'm still willing to play when you figure out the rules."

With that he firmly shut the door in her face.

Brennan was completely taken aback by the switch in gears. Who the hell did he think he was? She wanted to pull the door off the hinges and rail at him; instead she stormed to her room and slammed the door.

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They were back to the awkward tension of the previous few days when they headed for the airport the next day. Brennan was irritable and had dark rings under her eyes that the most skilled makeup artist wouldn't have been able to cover. Booth looked completely rested and appeared down right perky to Brennan.

They made one more swing by the hospital on the way. Noanie was scheduled to be released in two days. Her aunt was on the way to pack her up and get her back to Tucson. Brennan had offered to stay around, but Noanie had been insistent that she get back to her 'real life'.

A frail looking woman greeted them from the hospital bed. She had fiery red hair and penetrating blue eyes much like Tempe's. Booth could see that she would be a beautiful woman when fully recovered. She was surrounded by the usual trappings of a hospital ward, with the exception of the intricately woven afghan that lay across her feet, and the abundance of flowers along the window seal. Booth chuckled as the collage of photos and multi-colored clothing that had been sprawled across his room began to make sense.

Brennan and her chatted for several minutes before she asked if Tempe would go down to the gift shop and get her some magazines. Brennan eyed Booth cautiously, not sure if she should leave him.

"It's fine," Booth grinned, "I'm sure Noanie has some interesting Tempe co-ed stories." He gave both women his million dollar charm smile as he relaxed into the serviceable recliner the hospital provided.

When Brennan had disappeared from view Noanie turned her full attention to Booth. "So you're him, huh?"

"I'm him?" Booth replied, more question than answer.

"You're the partner my friend hasn't been able to stop talking about for the last couple of years." Noanie stated. "You know about her past?'

"Yes," Booth replied.

"You know she's not as tough as she lets on?"

Again Booth replied in the affirmative. As an FBI Homicide Detective Booth was skilled in the art of interrogation; he knew you revealed minimal information until you knew the agenda of your adversary.

"She has it bad for you… you know." Noanie pressed.

"And where does this information come from?" Booth queried, falling into interrogation mode himself.

Noanie's energetic laugh belied her small frame. "I know this because I've known Temperance Brennan for 17 years. I've heard about and met almost every man she's ever been involved with, and none of them have elicited the detailed documentation of customs and habits that she has gathered on you. I'll bet she even knows what kind of tooth paste you use."

"Colgate," Booth laughed. "The kind that whitens."

"I don't think she could have even told you how that last guy she lived with… um…"

"Peter," Booth supplied.

"Yeah, Peter. I don't think after two years of living together she could have told you how he took his coffee." She eyed him.

"Cream… lots of sugar," Booth grinned. Booth was beginning to suspect that, given the opportunity, he would like Noanie.

"Boy… I don't know what you did though," she shook her head violently. "In the past couple of days she has said your name exactly three times, and two of those were only after prodding from me. And, I'll tell you another thing. The look she had in her eyes when she said it…. Whoa… I've never seen that look before."

"We have reached a certain impasse," Booth acknowledged. He eyed Noanie for a few seconds, wondering just how much to reveal to this woman. Finally he squared his shoulders and looked directly in her eyes. "I love her."

Noanie nodded. "It's hard not to," she mused. "So, you'll give her time to figure things out. You're not going to run for the hills?"

Booth turned on his patented charm smile again; he decided that he would probably like Noanie very much. "I'm not going any where."

They fell into an easy banter. Noanie spoke a little bit more about Brennan and their history. They compared places around the globe they had both visited. Twenty minutes later Brennan returned with what looked to be a copy of ever magazine the hospital gift shop sold. Noanie knew that each one would have an article of interest to her that her friend had carefully chosen.

Soon they prepared to head for the airport. Brennan went to her friend's side and took her hand. Noanie pulled her down and whispered in a voice that was still intended for Booth to hear. "I like him. He may just be able to keep up with you."

Brennan rolled her eyes at her friend and gave her hand a squeeze. "Call me when you get to Tucson. I'll try to make it out for a visit when you get settled."

"I'll call," Noanie promised, knowing that the visit would be a prolonged set of phone calls, emails and instant messaging.

Booth made his way to Noanie's bedside and captured the hand that Brennan had just released. He pressed his card into it.

"In case you need anything," he whispered. He raised the hand to his lips and kissed it, giving her a little wink.

"Oh my," Noanie giggled, "you are a charmer."

Brennan was pretty sure she was missing something, but with the uneasy truce she had with Booth, she wasn't in a position to ask.

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As they checked the car in at the airport, the twenty-something man gasped in shock. "What'd you do to it man?"

"There was…" Booth was unsure how to explain the rather large dent and scratch marks on the front passenger side fender.

"It happened in the parking lot," Booth provided, as he signed the documentation. Thank God he had paid for the insurance.

Brennan watched the interaction with a mortified look on her face. What had she been thinking?

The flight back to DC was uneventful. They spoke very little. Booth chose to nap; his head often drifted close enough for Brennan to feel his breath on her cheek.

They found Angela and Hodgins waiting for them at baggage claim. Angela was horrified at the ugly bruise that was still evident on Brennan's jaw. She grabbed her friend in a prolonged embrace.

"My car is in the parking garage," Booth informed them. "So… I guess I'll catch up with you at the lab Bones."

There was a split second where they both felt like something more should be said before Booth turned to saunter off towards the exit.

Brennan watched his figure disappear into the crowd. She realized how wonderful it was not to have him so close any more. She could feel the tension drain form her body.

As they walked out of the terminal Brennan's body sagged, and Angela grabbed her for support. She realized that the tension was replaced by emptiness, and she would give anything to have Booth next to her…. holding her at that moment.

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OK… so it occurred to me that I am simply INCAPABLE of writing Angry Sex. I've never had it… I don't understand it. While (IN MY OPINION) it is the fighting and bickering that ramps up the sexual tension between these two. I don't think real pain or anger is conducive to sex… at least not the kind of sex that I like to have.

For one of my favorite readers benefit:

"can you give me a hint as to whether the agents were aware of went on
between Booth & Brennan that night while they had her under surveillance. If
this is to be addressed in a subsequent chapter, no need to tell me now but if
this is of no consequence to the story, can you just make up an answer to
keep an old obsessed reader happy."

LOL I should have known you would challenge me on that one as you have throughout. The answer is… by "wired" I meant for security. I picture a very high tech window/ door alarm system… possibly even motion detectors. As to whether there were cameras, video, or sound the answer is a FIRM- NO!! However… everything that happened on the patio was viewable to the world, so I'm sure the agents who were stationed in that general direction got a bit of a show!

And finally I politely ask that you take the time to review. Again, I say to you that I don't do this for money, and if I were just writing for myself I would stick them in a drawer when I was done and wouldn't take the time to post them. (Feedback keeps me writing!) So be a good sport… Thanks again to those of you who already do!!

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Joan Jett- I hate myself for loving you