"Alone we can do so little; together we can do so much." –Helen Keller

Dynamic

"Why did Keith Seeger dump Steve Rifton in the grease repository?" Brennan asked her partner, grudgingly allowing him a turn at the game.

"Well," Booth answered, his words punctuated by small grunts as he progressed through the game, "Seeger lives just down the street from the restaurant and he knew he couldn't keep a body around without somebody finding out."

"True, but Rifton was alive when he was thrown in," Brennan wrinkled her nose. "Certainly, he was injured by Seeger's attack but he died drowning in the grease."

"Yeah," Booth's attention was still focused on the game, "angry dads don't use the best common sense. In the end, he just wanted to make sure Rifton wouldn't be around to keep stealing Dougie's glory."

"Still seems a rather harsh form of vindication," she crossed her arms over her chest, all the while observing Booth's technique with the machine.

"Think about it, Bones, not only did the guy take credit for something he didn't do, but the kid was incapable of defending himself, and Rifton and his buddy Ballinger were making money hand over fist." Booth's game ended and he turned to face her, "I'm not trying to justify what Seeger did, but the part of me that's a dad gets it; that's all."

A contemplative silence fell between them.

"Do you have another quarter?" Brennan gestured to the game. "I believe I'm ready to defeat you now."

"You do huh?" Booth's eyebrows rose.

"After observing your technique I believe I have isolated the necessary modulations to my own that are necessary, yes," she held out her hand. "A quarter?"

Booth dug around in his pockets and produced another coin, laying it deliberately in the center of her palm, "Here you go, Ms. Rolex, but you're buying dinner."

"Fine," she sniffed, shouldering past him and adopting the same stance he had taken in front of the machine.

She deposited the quarter in the appropriate slot, selected the female gaming character, and proceeded to grip the joystick. This time, she was prepared for her adversary's attacks and moved deftly to avoid the objects that she had categorized as detrimental during Booth's turn, at the same time calculating the angles necessary to hit the bouncing ball and elude the gorilla's riposte.

Three goals later, her avatar was dealt a fatal blow and she sighed, only to have her breath catch in her throat as Booth's arms encircled her from behind. One hand covered the joystick while the other slipped a quarter in, the cuff of his sleeve brushing her thigh as he did so.

"You need a light touch," his voice was soft in her ear as the game resumed and he gently loosened her grip.

She nodded, neurons firing impulses to her brain that had nothing to do with the screen in front of them. Shoving her body's chemical reactions to Booth's nearness aside, she inhaled deeply and allowed his hand to guide hers, ignoring the scent of his cologne that resulted.

"I understand that it's a simple matter of calculating angles-"

"Shh," the air whooshed past her ear as he cut her off, still helping her move the control stick adroitly. "Don't think, feel. Use your instincts."

Watching the screen for an opening, she jerked the joystick down suddenly, crowing with delight as the ball caromed off of her character and around the gorilla's defense. Booth squeezed their free hands together in a congratulatory manner before the game required their focus once again. Minutes ticked by as they continued to score against the machine; the level of difficulty increasing as they advanced.

Brennan recognized the final level when it appeared from the footage she and Angela had watched earlier; a thrill of nervous excitement running through her. Their bodies moved as one, deftly avoiding all of the obstacles until finally the shaft sunk deep in its target and they were done. Exultation and relief flooded her, the celebratory music drowned out by the sensation of his chest heaving in time with hers.

At the game's prompting, Booth entered the letters "BnB" onto the screen and she watched, thrilled as it coalesced into the number one spot on the "High Score" list.

"We," she said, turning around with a smile and finding his face, "make an exceptional team."

He moved his hands from the controls to rest loosely around her waist, his eyes dark and glittering from the exertion.

"The best," he returned her smile, resting his forehead on hers, and for a long moment both of them pretended that the conversation had everything to do with them and nothing to do with murder, or Punky Pong, or being just partners.