A/N: Smut alert! This ficlet was written for the "Sextember" ficathon at the LJ community bones_ga; the prompt was "Cam and Brennan get drunk together and start discussing Booth's… skills. In loving detail."

By the way, I noticed that smutty stories tend to get more hits, but fewer reviews, so if you read the story, I'd appreciate it very much if you could drop me a line to let me know what you thought. No need to be shy ;-)

And now, without further ado, a pathologist and an anthropologist walk into a bar…

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The Truth in the Tequila

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Cam eyed the amber liquid in her shot glass for a moment before knocking it back. "You know," she said with a grimace as she put it down and signaled the bartender for a refill, "I wasn't really planning to get wasted tonight."

"Angela says life is what happens while you're making other plans." Brennan downed her own shot and coughed as it seared her throat. She used to have a high alcohol tolerance, but she'd only stopped breastfeeding a month ago, so she was a bit… what was the adequate sports metaphor for it? She turned around to ask Booth, only to remember belatedly that he was at home baby-sitting.

"Makes you wonder what kind of plans she was making in the first place." Cam sniggered at her own joke; obviously Brennan wasn't the only one who was getting a little tipsy. "Oh boy, we really should slow down…"

"I suppose we should." Brennan had been about to lift the refilled shot glass that the bartender had just put in front of her, but now she lowered her hand again. "I wouldn't want you to start vomiting all over me, I get enough of that at home at the moment."

"I don't vomit." There was a hint of smugness in Cam's tone. "Never."

"That's highly unlikely, unless –" Brennan paused, a memory rising out of the alcohol fumes that currently enveloped her brain. "Oh yes, of course, you don't have a gag reflex."

"How do you… oh, that rat bastard!" Cam's eyebrows shot up as realization seemed to dawn. "He told you about that?"

From the look of it, Brennan had just committed a social gaffe, although she wasn't sure why Cam was so upset. "If you mean that Booth mentioned your exceptional talent for oral sex that is a result of this specific deficiency, then yes, he told me." She paused for a moment, considering what she'd just said. "Now that I think about it, that was probably a little indiscreet of him."

"Ya think?"

"That's what I just said," Brennan answered, somewhat bewildered. "Would it make you feel better if I informed you that he was highly appreciative of this particular skill of yours?"

"Oh great, so he shared the details too." Cam lifted her glass again, obviously deciding that she wasn't drunk enough for this conversation. "I guess expecting a guy not to blab about his bedroom adventures really is like asking a cock not to crow at sunrise."

Brennan burst into giggles; for some reason, the image of crowing cocks seemed hilariously funny in the context of this conversation. Cam shot her a dark look, but then she started grinning too. "Not quite so prudish after all once you get him warmed up a little, is he?"

It took Brennan a while to regain enough of her composure to answer. "I'm not sure Booth would want me to discuss this with you."

"Yeah, well, I didn't ask him to go around advertising my cocksucking skills either!" Cam leaned in until Brennan could see the predatory glitter in her eyes up close. "So, spill!"

Brennan deliberated for a moment, remembering Booth's 'What's between us is ours' – but Cam had a point, and besides, it wasn't as if Booth had always kept his mouth shut about things that Brennan hadn't wanted him to share. In the end, she could always blame the tequila.

"Okay." Lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, she admitted, "I was rather surprised at first – considering Booth's usual reaction when the topic of sex came up in conversation, I expected him to be somewhat…"

"Vanilla?"

"I was going to say 'uptight', but I suppose that works too. However…"

"Not so much, eh?" Cam gave her a lascivious wink. "Is he still doing that thing with his thumbs?"

"You mean with both thumbs inside during cunnil–"

"Yep, that." Cam waved her empty glass around until she caught the bartender's attention. "I always meant to thank Rebecca; he says she's the one who taught him that."

Brennan started giggling again. "Should we give her a call and thank her together?"

Cam almost snorted tequila out of her nose. "Or we could call Tessa and ask her to chip in for a card."

"Hannah too?" Brennan asked without thinking, although she found the effect somewhat sobering. Resolutely, she reached for her own refilled glass.

Cam made a face. "How about let's not."

"I thought you liked her!" Brennan wasn't sure whether she felt outraged or relieved.

"Are you kidding me?" Cam rolled her eyes until she had to clutch the sides of her barstool for support. "I played nice for Seeley's sake, but she got on my last nerve. I'm his oldest friend, I couldn't very well tell him that he looked like midlife crisis personified next to the girly wonder."

"You want me to tell him that?" It was probably just the tequila talking, but Brennan felt seriously tempted to follow through on the offer, even if it would mean living with a sulking baby for a week (which in turn might upset her daughter as well).

"You'd better not, unless you want to go without the topic of our discussion for a while."

Brennan couldn't quite suppress the self-satisfied smirk. "Not happening."

"Ah yes, the man sure knows how to do angry sex." Cam looked nostalgic for a moment. "Ever picked a fight just to get him all worked up?"

"I never had to, it happens all by itself quite frequently." Brennan pondered this, then added, "It's probably a good thing too, because he tends to treat me like I'm made of glass when he's not mad at me."

Cam grimaced. "Downside of the White Knight Syndrome."

"I'm not a damsel in distress." It was Brennan's turn to lean in. "Besides, he really likes the submissive part once we get to the handcuffs and blindfolds."

Cam almost fell off the barstool. "Seriously? You break out the handcuffs in bed?"

Brennan shrugged. "Well, he already has them, it only seems logical."

"Wow." Cam sounded downright awed. "I mean, he always was a fantastic lay, but I never thought he'd go kinky."

"He needed a little convincing at first," Brennan admitted. "I've always enjoyed role play, though, and once I got him to confess that one of his favorite fantasies included me in a lab coat and a pair of high heels on an office desk, I took things from there. It turned out that with sufficient inspiration, he can be quite creative." She snickered a little when she continued, "I doubt the FBI would approve of the interrogation techniques we've come up with, for example."

"Oh my." Cam fanned herself with a napkin. "Now I'm almost sorry that I actually preferred good old missionary when I was with him because that way I could keep my hands on his ass."

Brennan got a faraway look in her eyes. "His gluteus maximus is definitely well-developed."

"I'll say." Cam cast a glance over her shoulder to see if the bartender was safely out of earshot. "You ever tried the trick with the finger inside – you know, during?"

"What, you mean, inserting a finger into his anus while we're having sex?"

Cam nodded vigorously. "The first time I did it he came so hard that he almost blacked out on top of me."

"Interesting." Brennan filed this information away for further (and sober) consideration. "It stands to reason, I suppose; most men find direct stimulation of their prostate gland highly arousing, although it's not a standard feature during heterosexual intercourse."

Cam winced. "Better leave out the 'heterosexual' tidbit around him."

"You're probably right – Booth isn't homophobic, but the implications might still make him a little uncomfortable."

"Besides, I doubt he wants to hear all those big words while he's trying to get it on with you."

"Oh, you'd be surprised." Brennan gave her a lopsided wink. "He's actually quite into what he calls 'squint speak' in bed."

"Now she tells me." Cam sighed. "Here I am with my medical degree, and I never thought of using it for dirty talk."

"Paul doesn't…?"

"Yikes!" Cam hastily flagged down the bartender for another refill. "You know what Paul does for a living, don't you? You really believe that I want him to think about work while we're fucking?"

Brennan made a face. "I concede your point."

"I bet." Cam knocked back her drink, wheezing a little as it went down. "Don't get me wrong, I'm pretty happy with Paul, but sometimes I can't help missing the Little Agent."

"Who is – oh, I see, you mean that as a euphemism for Booth's penis." When Cam merely grinned, Brennan considered it necessary to add, "It's inaccurate, however; Booth is well above average –"

"Yeah, that kinda was my point." Cam gave her a playful nudge that almost made Brennan lose her balance. "I mean, he may not be good for five rounds per night any longer like he was back when we first met, but if we're talking staying power…"

"He certainly puts his physical prowess to good use," Brennan agreed. "And he keeps himself in shape, which isn't always the case with men his age."

Cam's eyebrows shot up. "Let me guess – you actually told him that, didn't you?"

"Of course I did." Brennan was a little baffled that Cam would even have to ask. "Booth doesn't feel insecure about his body, but I still want him to know that I find him physically attractive."

"And you chose to do so by reminding him that guys in their forties usually go flabby and pot-bellied?"

"That wasn't quite the wording I used." Brennan's smirk was more than a little dirty. "Let me just say that I expressed my attraction in a way that he greatly appreciated."

"You said it when you came up for air during a blow job?"

Brennan frowned. "How do you know?"

It was Cam's turn to smirk. "Because he doesn't hear a word you say while your mouth is anywhere near his dick."

Brennan's frown deepened. "You think so?"

"Trust me." Cam reached out to pat Brennan's hand, although her depth perception was a bit off, resulting in a near-miss. "Don't worry about it, Seeley has always been very fond of non-verbal compliments."

Brennan was still doubtful. "He's usually quite vocal in sexual situations."

"Ah yes, I remember." Cam's nostalgic expression was back. "I don't know about you, but it always turned me on like whoa to hear Mr. Former Altar Boy whisper words in my ear that would have given his confessor a heart attack."

After a bit of fumbling, Brennan brandished her cell phone with a triumphant grin. "Wanna sprint your memory?"

"No way." Cam snatched the phone out of Brennan's hand like a hawk swooping down on its prey. "He sends you X-rated texts? That's new – I mean he… wow." She quickly scrolled through the messages, her eyes growing wider with every word she read. "He has definitely expanded his vocabulary."

Brennan's grin turned smug. "Well, I'm a bestselling author for a reason."

"Holy shit." Cam handed the cell phone back and reached for her purse. "If you don't mind, Dr. Brennan, I really need to go now. I mean, it has been nice chatting with you, but I'm beginning to feel a bit…"

"…horny?"

Cam seemed taken aback for a moment, but then she dissolved into giggles. "I guess Paul won't know what hit him."

"I know what you mean." Brennan squirmed a little in her seat. "I'm afraid I'll find Booth passed out on the couch after an evening alone with the baby, though."

Cam slid off the barstool and stood with a barely perceptive wobble. She shoved a few bills in the general direction of the bartender and then turned to give Brennan a friendly pat on the shoulder. "You'll find a way to wake him."

Brennan raised her empty shot glass in a mock salute. "Count on it."