A/N: My take on what might have happened after the last scene of "The Do in the Don't", written with my tongue firmly in my cheek. It's been a while since I've felt like doing an episode tag, but this one just… happened. Take that, writer's block!

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The Pitfall in the Present

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Booth was extremely grateful when his daughter fell asleep almost immediately after he'd changed her. He loved taking care of his baby girl, but right now all he could think of was Bones lounging around on their bed in that hot little number he'd bought her.

Okay, so maybe lounging wasn't exactly Bones' style, but given what she was wearing, normal sitting or lying could probably pass as lounging too.

He tiptoed out of the nursery and made a dash for their bedroom, where he was met with the rather unexpected sight of Bones sitting on the bed in one of his old FBI t-shirts and reading a forensic journal. She looked up and gave him a smile that faded slightly when she noticed his expression.

"Is anything wrong with Christine?"

"What? – Oh, no, she was out like a light as soon as I put her back in the bassinet. Uh, I… I thought you were going to… you know?" Booth vaguely indicated the wad of semi-transparent fabric on the foot of the bed.

Bones gave a little shrug. "It doesn't fit."

Uh-oh. That definitely hadn't featured in any of the scenarios Booth had come up with for this moment, and it was only now that he realized just how badly his little gift could blow up in his face.

If it's too small, she'll think she's fat. If it's too big, she'll think you think she's fat, a cheerful voice that sounded disturbingly like Sweets spoke up in his mind. Congrats, Booth, you officially can't win this one.

Bracing himself for the inevitable explosion, Booth managed a weak, "Oh?"

She shrugged again. "It's no big deal; you still have the receipt, don't you?

"Yeah, sure." No calm before a hurricane had ever felt so ominous. "Look, Bones, I'm sorry – I guess I should have known…" Damn, that woman at the shop had sounded so certain that everything would fit perfectly. That was her job, after all, wasn't it?

"Booth, there's a reason I try on every piece of underwear before I buy it; otherwise even I would occasionally get something that doesn't fit. It would probably have been better if you'd brought me along for the purchase, but I appreciate your effort to surprise me." She gave him a smile that made Booth even more nervous than he already was. "I admit, it's not the kind of present I would have expected from you."

"Yeah, well…" Booth cleared his throat and tried to come up with something plausible. "I figured, all women love lingerie, right?"

"Actually, that's a rather common male misconception." Now she sounded like she was about to launch into another anthropology lesson. "Since the main function of this type of garment is to be sexually arousing, most women buy it with the intent to please their chosen mate. I'd have to look up statistics to back up my claim, of course, but I would consider it more accurate to say that men love lingerie and that women love men appreciating the way they look wearing it."

"Seriously?" Booth took a step closer to the bed; since she still wasn't biting his head off, it was probably safe to do so. "I thought women were all about lace and satin and stuff."

"I can't speak for all women, of course, but in my experience that kind of underwear is more for show than for everyday use." She finally closed the journal and put it on the nightstand next to the tub of slowly melting ice cream. "Show me a woman who's happily single, and I'll show you an underwear drawer full of comfy cotton."

"The Book of Montenegro?" Booth hazarded; there was just no way that line had come from Bones herself.

She gave him an impish grin. "Angela used to have a separate drawer for 'date night' underwear. Of course, for Angela, most nights were date nights before she and Hodgins were together."

"Same goes for Daisy, obviously," Booth murmured without thinking; he only noticed his blunder when her eyebrows shot up.

"What do you mean?"

Oh, damn. "Uh, you know, Sweets said" – bad move, Seeley, REALLY bad move – "I mean, he mentioned something about her wearing all kinds of fancy stuff – crotchless panties and so on…" He could have bitten off his tongue as soon as the words were out.

Bones' eyes narrowed. "I've shared lodgings with Miss Wick for seven months while we were in Maluku; she favors cotton panties with the day of the week printed across her buttocks. You've seen them yourself, remember?"

"I sure do now, although I was doing my best to suppress that memory." Booth shook his head as if that could dislodge the image that was forever burned into his retinas. Sweets was going to pay for this. "Bones, you know I didn't buy you lingerie because I don't like the things you usually wear, right?"

"Yes, I know." She sounded perfectly serene, and Booth finally dared to sit down next to her on the bed although he still felt like he was walking through a minefield with a blindfold over his eyes. "It seems rather unlike you to discuss Miss Wick's choice of underwear with Sweets, though."

"Well, he just wouldn't shut up about it, he was like a kid in a candy store in that shop…"

Booth faltered when he saw the rapid change in her expression, mentally replayed his last words and realized with growing horror just what he'd let slip.

"Dr. Sweets was with you when you bought this for me?" Her tone was way too calm for his liking.

"No, of course not! I kicked him out of the shop and told him to wait in the car because he kept trying to…"

"Then why was he there in the first place? Aren't you the one who always insists that I shouldn't share details about our sexual activities with third parties? Angela really wanted to see that naked picture of you, you know."

Booth took a deep breath and decided that honesty was the only thing that might still save him now. "Okay, so the whole lingerie thing was his idea. I didn't want to tell him, but I was worried about you after what you said in the morning, and he just wouldn't stop needling me…"

"Doesn't he always?" Bones reached out towards him and placed her hand on his arm. "Booth, it's safe to assume that Sweets has been sexually active for less than a decade, so why would you take advice from someone whose experience doesn't even come near your own?"

Booth opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, she continued, "Or is there a problem that I'm not aware of? If that's the case, I'd prefer it if you told me first before you seek advice from somebody else."

Sweets was going to die. "Bones, there's absolutely nothing wrong, okay? Nothing, nada, zip, zilch – you're beautiful and sexy and hot and…"

She cut his babbling off with a kiss. "Thank you; I greatly enjoy having intercourse with you as well."

Booth made a face at 'intercourse', but he was aware he was in no position to complain right now. "That's good to know."

"Can we get started, then?" She deftly began to undo the buttons on his shirt and gave him a saucy little smile when she noticed his dumbfounded expression. "What, you thought we weren't going to have sex just because the lingerie doesn't fit? I'm sure we can manage without it."

Booth didn't need to be told twice; in a surprisingly short time, both their clothes had joined his discarded present on the foot of the bed, the floor, and some other surfaces that really didn't matter now.

"Booth?"

"Hm?"

"You know that if you ever talk to Sweets about our sex life again, I'm going to give the omelet photo to Angela with my explicit permission to put it on the Jeffersonian intranet?"

Booth was busy placing a string of soft little kisses on her collarbone and didn't even look up. "Yeah, I figured as much."