What if…Booth and Brennan had had a torrid sexual encounter sometime between their first case and the Pilot that went wrong somehow? Dialogue from the Pilot, inspiration from various conversations on the ABY, mostly involving me and Rob and a rotating cast…and no real spoilers.


Brennan repressed a shiver as Booth loomed over her. The last time they had been so close and this furious--

No. That had been an aberration she was determined not to repeat, so she shook off the remembrance of what his mouth, hot and demanding, had felt like on her skin and threw her challenge in his face.

"Cleo Eller was killed on a cement floor sprinkled with diatomaceous earth. Traces of her blood will still be in that cement. One of us is wrong. Maybe both of us. But if Bethlehem wasn't a senator, you'd be right there in his basement looking for that killing floor." She took a breath and then struck. "You're afraid of him. Your hypothesis is that squints don't solve murders and cops do. Prove it. Be a cop."

She gave him one last look before turning and sauntering out. Behind her, she could hear two sharp retorts as Booth presumably took out his--frustration--on the target. It was all too plain that he remembered that supercharged night three months ago as clearly as she did.