"That's interesting." Brennan was looking at one of her scientific journals as she sat propped up on her pillows.
"What's interesting?" Booth was brushing his teeth.
You never actually met Peter, did you? The physicist I was seeing when we worked our first case?"
"You mean the guy who couldn't tie his own shoes? No, but I remember you talking about him. Why?"
"He's secured a contract to work on a drone project for the US Air Force. It's quite prestigious and should be very profitable."
"What good is it to be that smart if you don't have any common sense? I'm telling you, Bones, you sure had lousy taste in men. Let's see…. Pete the Doofus and David the Cult Leader. Michael Stires was a jerk. Sully was okay, I guess, except he never could decide what he wanted to do. And don't get me started on Mark the welder and Jason the botanist…."
"If I had such horrible taste in men, how did I end up with you? I was attracted to you when we started working together, but you kept saying I had bad taste in men. It was very confusing. Logically, wouldn't that mean you were a poor choice also?"
Booth sat on the side of the bed, wearing a cocky grin. "I'd like to think that I helped you raise your standards. Working with me gave you an example of what to look for in a guy, right?"
"I don't know." Brennan smiled demurely. "I should do research to define the characteristics that make you better than the other men I dated. I'm not sure what proof I have that you're actually a better choice than they were, other than your word."
"I see." Booth turned off the lamp and embraced his wife. "I'll give you all the proof you need…."