Thanks to everyone for reading! :)
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"Why am I here? I didn't do anything and I don't know anything," the clean cut young man, early twenties, dark hair, complained.
"Where were you the night of May 12th?" Booth questioned in the interrogation room of the NYPD building.
"At home, watching the season finale of the 'The Vampire Diaries'," Ortiz replied.
"Can anyone verify that? Because we have reason to believe that you were with your girlfriend, at your place of work," Booth countered.
Ortiz stiffened.
"I just came there to talk. Ask her why she's been bailin' on me lately," he replied.
"Is that all that went down, Ortiz? I heard your girl was playin' you. And I don't know about you man, but I'd be pretty pissed if I found out my girl was screwin' another guy . . . especially my enemy," Booth manipulated.
"Okay, okay," he surrendered. "We didn't just talk . . . I knew what she was doin' with that asshole and I wanted answers . . . So I took her in the back door to make her talk – in private . . . When I forced her in there with me, she punched me in the nose and tried to get outta there," he confessed.
"Which explains the blood and nail scratches on the door," Booth said.
"I just wanted to scare her – make her say it to my face . . ." he trailed off.
"So you stuck her head in the guillotine?" Booth prompted.
"I-I didn't think it was real . . . I-I thought it was just a freakin' prop . . . Oh, god . . . I'm sorry . . . I'm so sorry . . . I'd do anything to get Avery back . . ." Ortiz broke down.
"Evan Ortiz, you're under arrest for the murder of Avery Mandel. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law . . ." Booth cuffed him and began to read him his rights.
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Booth came back to their suite to find Brennan on the couch, immersed in writing her next book. She usually made him wait to read it until she had the final draft done, but maybe he'd earned the privilege of seeing some of it before then. He came up behind her and daringly leaned over for a peek.
"We have a rescue dog named Ripley?" he read.
"Booth! This is not about us! And what are you doing sneaking up on me and looking over my shoulder?" she slammed the laptop shut.
"Sorry, Bones. I was just curious . . . ya know . . . bein' a big inspiration and all . . ." he grinned cockily and kissed her lips from above.
"You are very certain you are the agent in my books?" she replied, amused.
"C'mon, Bones . . . tall, muscular, brown hair, brown eyes, crazy socks, expert marksman . . . except for the 'somewhat overly confident' and the 'occasional childish tendencies' part, that's totally me," Booth argued, sitting beside her.
"I'll admit that you have had an influence on the character," she confessed.
"Ha! So. What are we up to this time? Juicy murder? Hot sex?" he reached for the laptop.
"No peeking! I haven't completed this chapter yet," she smacked his hand away.
"Can I see it when you're done?" he asked eagerly.
She hesitated.
"Yes . . . now that you are more than my partner, I believe you have earned the right to read chapters as I write them . . . I trust you won't reveal anything to the public of course?" she assumed.
Booth held his hand up.
"Hey, Scouts honor – I won't say a word. I'm just lovin' the perks of being a best-selling author's guy!" he grinned.
"So what happened with the case?" she inquired.
"Hodgins was right – Ortiz confessed about the guillotine. Claimed he only did it to scare Mandel – had no idea the blade was real," Booth told her.
"Did you believe him?" Brennan asked, putting her laptop away.
"Yeah . . . he honestly seemed regretful, like he never meant to really hurt his girlfriend . . ." he answered.
"And the wax?" she wondered.
"Was a desperate cover-up. The kid panicked. Turns out he'd been studying to make the figurines at the branch in London . . . thought he could make her look like a random extra and no one would know," Booth finished. "I sent his prints back to the Squint Squad, but we got him on the confession alone."
"Would you be that enraged if I were to sleep with another man?" Brennan asked.
Booth skeptically raised his eyebrow.
"Why? You have a guy on the side I don't know about?" he teased, fairly confident she was just being her direct self.
"No. I merely wondered what your reaction would be if the case arose," Brennan replied.
"Are you planning on it?" Booth got a little more suspicious.
"Of course not. I value our relationship too much to engage in a tryst with someone else . . . I find you to be more than satisfactory when it comes to fulfilling my sexual and emotional needs," she replied.
"Really? Exactly how much more are we talkin' about here?" Booth smiled, slyly, putting his arm around her.
"An immeasurable amount," she assured him, snuggling into him.
"You know I'd never do that to you, either, Bones . . . you're all I need, okay?" he promised.
"I know. And I trust you, Booth . . . it's been difficult for me . . . but you're one of the few people in my life I know I can depend on," Brennan timidly confessed.
"I'll always be there for you," Booth vowed, cupping her chin and kissing her earnestly. "You ready to put on somethin' sexy and let me take you to dinner – if you're up for it?"
"My stomach is still fine, Booth. I'll go change – but first, I have something for you," she said, getting up and taking out a Bergdorf Goodman bag from the closet. "I know you said for me not to leave our room, but I realized you would need these if we were to go anywhere with a dress code."
Booth opened the bag to find two Ferragamo shoeboxes.
"I didn't know if you were going to change or not," she explained. "And I felt guilty for soiling your shoes."
"Thanks, Bones . . . you really didn't have to do this . . . but thank you," he smiled, overwhelmed by her generosity.
"You're welcome, Booth," she smiled, shyly. "I'm going to go get dressed."
Booth nodded and went to the closet, taking out another suit and changing. Technically, this would be their first formal date, given the case and his injuries. He wondered if she had thought about it. But as he turned around and saw her standing in front of him in a red halter cocktail dress, he knew she was fully aware of the sentiment – either that or she just wanted to drive him crazy.
"Y-You look – Th-That's – You look amazing," he drooled, looking her up and down.
"Thank you," she smiled. "You look . . . very attractive."
He confidently walked toward her, wrapping his arms around her waist.
"So ya think I might get lucky, tonight?" he flirted.
"If by 'luck' you mean will we engage in sexual activities, I would say your statistical odds are very encouraging," she teased back, straightening his tie and walking past him towards the door.
Booth took the opportunity to check out her ass, then followed her.