This is so, so late; I throw myself upon the mercy of the court!

Thanks as ever to blc for beta'ing and ideas.

Brennan looked in her closet Monday morning for something to wear. The first work day after a gala is usually quiet, and it should just be Limbo cases today unless Booth comes by. She felt a surge of warmth at the thought of him. So long as I didn't scare him off the other night. Hmmm, she thought, finding a purple shirt. Haven't worn this in a while.

She pulled it out of the closet, along with a pair of close-fitting jeans and a spaghetti-strapped white tank top to wear under it. That'll do. After showering, she selected a pair of comfortable boots and a low-slung, wide belt. She had just enough time to curl her hair this morning and found a necklace of amethyst nuggets and irregular silver pieces to wear with her mother's earrings.

But her reflection as she applied her touch of cosmetics almost made her change her mind. Just remembered why I usually wear the black one under this shirt, she thought, tugging on it a little. She hissed in annoyance. It'll have to do--I don't have time to change right now. She raced out of the bathroom, grabbed her bag and keys, and was out the door, barely remembering to shut the lights off behind her.

The day went mostly the way she thought: a quick meeting to discuss the success of the gala, a little paperwork, two Limbo cases. It had taken them, even with all of her students, several months to not only correct the damage Zack had done, but also to double check that nothing else had been interfered with; but now all appeared to be in order and she could get back to business as usual.

And of course, lunch with Angela. She had very deliberately chosen a vegetarian restaurant none of the others frequented because this wasn't just girl talk--this was strategy.

"We were so close," Brennan lamented. "But then he broke it all off before we even got into the limo, and then at my door…"

"Yeah, Jim said Booth walked you up, but he came back down not more than 15 minutes later. He also said Booth looked happy, but confused, almost frightened. No, not frightened. Maybe flustered," Angela said. "What happened?"

"Booth looked confused, frightened, flustered?" Brennan repeated, musing. "I'm not sure if that's good or not."

"Depends on what happened at your door, sweetie."

"I offered him a drink, he declined. I told him I had a nice time and hoped he hadn't been bored. He said he wasn't. I took off my wrap and kicked off the shoes and next thing I know, he's kissing me like there's mistletoe." She got a dreamy look on her face and Angela squealed happily.

"How was it? Scale of 1 to 10? Was there tongue? What did you do?"

"I-I don't think I've ever been kissed quite like that. If 10 is the best, I'd have to say it was at least a 10."

"OhmyGod," Angela swooned. "At least a 10, on 1 to 10 scale." She fanned herself with her hand. "Wow. Hodgie's in so much trouble tonight, but not until you give me the rest of the details."

Brennan smiled, still dreamy. "Yes to the tongue, too. I grabbed his lapels--I had to hold on, Ange--my knees actually got weak." She sighed happily.

"Did your toes curl? I don't suppose you have any idea how long it lasted, do you?"

"I've never actually had my toes curl," Brennan said, slightly reproving despite being half-lost in reverie. "Not from kissing or any other sexual interactions, anyway."

"Then you're not doing it right, Bren. Now answer the other question--do you have any idea of how long it lasted?"

"None whatsoever. A long time, though." She closed her eyes, sorting through her memories. "Honestly, Ange, I couldn't tell you much more than that, and not because I don't want to. It's more like--the details are lost in the overall set of impressions."

Angela began nodding. "All right, I can see that, and I can't tell you how hot that is! What then?"

"When we had to come up for air, he stepped back." She hesitated. "Yes, there was a strange look on his face that I couldn't make sense of. I thought I knew most of his expressions by now, but that was a new one. He just said 'Good night, Bones,' and was gone. I could hear him run down the stairs."

"Maybe you should have gone after him."

"The way I was feeling? No. I could barely lock my door, much less chase after him. That dress wouldn't have helped in the pursuit, either."

Angela sipped her drink while she thought. "I think, sweetie, that he can't believe you'd do that. He's had the hots for you for years, but he's too gentlemanly to make a move. Plus, and I know I'll probably sound like Sweets here, he values your friendship and partnership above what he's afraid would be a momentary pleasure. And if he thought you'd had too much to drink--"

"Well, what should I do next? I don't think I should knock him to the ground and have my way with him."

"As fun as that sounds, I think you're right, sweetie."

Brennan sighed. "Am I doing something wrong? Am I reading him wrong? What if he's really not interested? I mean, with everything I've ever said about marriage and children and religion--we're such antitheses of each other. Maybe he thinks I can't respect his beliefs. I can't understand following them, I admit, but he's so serious and sincere about it which really is the important part of any belief system, and that level of belief certainly helps add credence, and I can certainly admire his adherence to them…"

"You aren't listening, sweetie," Angela interjected, cutting off the downward spiral. "Trust me--he's interested in you. Ever since you came to me that day and asked for help, I've listened to all the gossip. He's not seeing anyone. He hasn't seen anyone in over a year. Maybe not since he broke off with Cam. He's interfered with almost every date you've had that he knows about and according to Cam, he wasn't at all happy about you being interested in Jared."

A deep flush ran up Brennan's face. That was a massive mistake, she thought, not for the first time. Booths are not interchangeable.

"And what about his reactions in London to Ian?" Angela continued, ignoring the blush.

Brennan nodded slowly. "You're right, Ange. You always are on these things." She offered a weak smile. "Sorry I got so-so--"

"Nervous? You've never made this approach before. Don't worry, sweetie--any time your nerve wavers, call me. Now, about what you should do next…"

*********************************************

Brennan straightened and stretched after completing the second skeleton. Both had been unremarkable, World War I casualties, and fairly simple. Angela was working on this face already. The first had been quickly ID'd as one Sergeant Thomas Cox, out of Colorado. The search for relatives was already started, and Brennan hoped there was someone to accept the bones. It wasn't likely that any of his immediate cousins or siblings were alive, but surely somebody would know of him.

And she was feeling so much better after talking to Angela, even though she hadn't see Booth all day.

She checked her watch. Almost five. "All right," she told her intern Caitlyn. "Pack them up and once everything is put away, come find me. There shouldn't be anything else, but always make sure. I'll check with Angela about the face. Might not see it until tomorrow, but that's fine. I've finally learned that a few more hours with a Limbo case won't make any more difference. If there's nothing else, you can go home."

"Thank you, Dr. Brennan."

She nodded and made her way into Angela's office. "Any progress, Ange?"

"Only a rough sketch so far, sweetie. How's your afternoon been?"

"Quiet and productive--just the way I like. Unless you're on a hot streak, don't feel you have to finish tonight. I'm feeling mellow," she added as Angela stared at her.

"Thanks, sweetie. Jack'll appreciate it, too--I find I've developed plans for tonight."

"Really? What kind? Or do I want to know?"

"Probably not." They exchanged wicked grins, then talked about the ordinary things they had skipped over at lunch--a new restaurant opening, an excellent wine Brennan had found, random observations about the donors and politicians at the gala, a little more girl talk (this time, the kind that usually sent men running far, far away). A footstep at the door made them look up, breaking off Angela's interesting discourse on vacation sex.

"Booth!" Brennan said, starting to rise. "I was expecting the intern so I could send her home. Is there a case?"

"No! No, there isn't. Hey, Bones," he added, very last minute. "What'cha working on, Angela?"

"A Limbo face that Bren was working with today." She turned her pad around to show him the half-finished face. He didn't notice the quick, sideways glances the women exchanged as he studied her work.

"Was there something, then, Booth?" Brennan wanted to know. His eyes widened slightly as she moved to stand in front of him. Ooops, forgot about my shirt. Oh well. Just another part of my plan, I guess. If an unplanned one.

"Nothing urgent," he assured her, pulling his eyes up with some effort. She pretended she hadn't noticed. "But there's something I wanted to talk to Angela about for a few minutes."

"Oh. Well, I'll be in my office for a little while; I'd like to talk to you if you have a minute. Besides, Caitlyn will be looking for me to find out if she can go home."

"And can she?" Booth asked.

"There's no case, so yes. Since you're here, though, would you like to go to dinner when you're done?"

"That…might be nice, Bones, but only if you eat some pie."

Her eyebrows rose and her mouth curved. "I make no promises!" She slipped out the door with a quick nod to both of them.

"So, G-Man, what can I do for you?"

Booth fidgeted, running a hand through his hair. She waited patiently.

"Look, Angela, I don't know if Bones told you, but…"

She continued to give him her expectant look as he trailed off.

"After the gala…"

Her eyes sparkled. "You jumped each other!"

"What? No!"

She laughed. "No, I knew that. Jim got back far too soon for you to have stayed at Brennan's place for long, and he did say he drove you home, too. Teasing." Taking in his expression, she softened. "Sorry. So what did happen?"

"I-I kissed her."

"I was close," Angela muttered, then snapped her fingers. "That might explain things. I actually heard her humming earlier today, but she wouldn't say why she was so happy."

"Humming? Bones?"

"Yes. I couldn't figure out why. But that explains so many things."

"But--but--"

"If you kissed her, Booth, she has no problems with it." She looked at him and sighed. "You know her. She'd've decked you that night if there was a problem or she didn't like it. And she would have ignored you just now. Or given you her special 'you're a simpleton' look she usually reserves for underperforming students."

"But I shouldn't have done it--it crossed our line…" He looked slightly desperate and more than a little guilty.

"Whose line exactly, hot stuff?" she asked pointedly. Idiot was going to argue himself out of it pretty soon at this rate, and she was fairly desperate herself to head that off. "No, she didn't tell me," she lied easily. "But I know her too, and I'd have to say she probably liked it."

*********************************************

A few minutes earlier…

"Hey, man," Hodgins said as Booth walked past him.

"Hodgins."

"Something wrong, Booth?"

He paused, shrugged. "Don't honestly know."

Jack frowned, hiding it in his microscope. Dr. B. had been looking rather, hmmm, he wasn't sure he had a word for it. Content was too mild, and happy seemed a little simple, and euphoric was too over the top. But if she was feeling so, well, positive, then the G-Man should be, too. And Booth was staying at his station, which really wasn't his norm, either.

"So what'd you think of the gala?" he essayed, looking back up.

"Interesting. Lot more politics and game-playing than I expected."

"That's what happens when you gotta ask the private sector for money. The FBI is funded by the feds, so you have a different set of hassles."

Booth grimaced. "At least I don't have to get involved with sucking up to Congress. I don't know how you Squints do it."

"Eh, you do what you have to." He watched Booth fiddle with his poker chip. The Agent hadn't been this antsy in a long time, especially without a case. But he couldn't figure out a way to ask what was really wrong.

"How long have you known Bones, Hodgins?"

So that's the way the wind blows. "Since she started. I hadn't been here that long myself, when she was hired. She was--all cool-eyed and sharp. Took charge real quick." Angie had promised him some juicy developments, but only after the work day was done, to avoid eavesdroppers. Eavesdroppers named Booth, that is. He had a feeling he might already know what she was going to tell him, based on Dr. B.'s and Booth's respective moods.

"How well would you say you know her?"

"Better in these last couple years than then. You've been a positive influence on her, Booth. But she's still…" He shrugged. "She's always been reserved. It took years for us to find out anything about her personal life, and some of that was from Ange. Nothing truly private," he hastily added as Booth's eyes narrowed. "Just the little things."

Booth grunted softly. Hodgins tried another tack.

"How often are you at Dr. B.'s place, anyway? You were awfully free with the beer while we were there."

"Umm…" He fidgeted. Not a lot, but Jack caught it. "Slightly more often than she's been to mine. She's got more room and a bigger table to work on. We've got all that paperwork from our cases and it has to be done some time and we don't always have time during work hours. We're busy people, Hodgins. And partners. That's what partners do.

"And her couch is more comfortable," he added in an undertone, rubbing a hand over the back of his head.

Hodgins nodded, barely stifling a suggestive smirk. He was a guy after all. Dr. B was hot, and he had been hanging around Angela too long not to be infected with her B-and-B matchmaking.

"Ah," was all he said, however. "Well, she's in a really good mood today. Didn't even snipe at the intern."

"Not Wendell, is it?" Booth had taken an inexplicable shine to Mr. Bray, treating him almost like a much younger brother. Though Jack hadn't known that he would go to bat for the younger man even against his partner. He carefully filed that thought away.

"No, that girl that came in after Daisy was fired. Caitlyn." The poker chip disappeared into Booth's pocket, but he didn't seem much calmer. "Social call or case?" He checked his watch. "Just past five. Dinner time--I should have known." He allowed himself to grin. "She might fight you, since she did go to lunch. But then--she might not. She's never been what you might call predictable."

"Which is strange considering her stance on surprises," Booth muttered. Strangely, his mood didn't lighten; Booth tended to reflect Brennan's moods. If told she was doing well, Booth tended to relax or smile a little more; if she was unhappy or supremely mad, he'd grit his teeth and be a little shorter than usual with others. Something is definitely off.

Beating around the bush wasn't working, so he decided to try bluntness. It works for Dr. B. "Something's wrong, Booth. I can tell. You're not exactly acting in your normal fashion, you know?"

"No, I don't know, Hodgins. Enlighten me." His expression hardened.

Whoops. He spread his hands out placatingly. "It's just that you're acting like you've had to release a suspect on insufficient grounds, and I can't see any obvious reasons."

"I do have a life outside work, Hodgins. You know that, don't you?"

I don't know how she does it when he leans into her personal space like this. He took a step back instinctively. "Yeah, I do, man. But when you come here, you usually look for Brennan, unless we have a body, in which case you come to whoever's got the info you need. If you don't see her first. But I saw you enter the lab, and you didn't go anywhere near her office. So there's something wrong, and you're avoiding her. I'm not a cop or a detective, Booth, but I do have eyes," he added as the G-Man's own eyes sharpened.

"No. Well…maybe. I'm just a little…" Booth sighed and gave in. "I'm concerned that Bones might be upset with me, that's all."

Hodgins' eyebrows rose at that. "Any reason for her to be?" he asked cautiously.

Booth shrugged, obviously reluctant to share the dirty details.

"So you're dodging her. Smooth, man, smooth. But you know, if she's that mad at you, you would have heard about it by now."

"That's true," Booth admitted, mostly to himself. "After all, she didn't have any problems breaking into my place to yell at me after that mock-funeral."

Hodgins gaped for a moment, absolutely floored. "What?" Does Angie know?

Booth flushed, but he was trapped and knew it. Distilling it to as few words as he could manage, he told the entomologist about Bones breaking into his bathroom.

"A beer-hat, a cigar, and a comic?" Hodgins repeated, grinning broadly. "Well, barring the cigar, that sounds like a perfect, ladies-free type of evening to me, Booth. What were you reading?"

"Um--Green Lantern. I think." He wasn't going to admit he remembered every detail.

Hodgins nodded approval. "Do you read any Marvel, or do you stick with DC?"

"DC, mostly. I should've guessed you were a comic book geek, too, Hodgins."

"Hey, man, graphic novels aren't a geek thing--unless you're one, too!" Jack protested, eyes twinkling. "Seems that makes it more of a guy thing, wouldn't you say?"

Booth smiled at that, starting to relax with the change of subject. "Thanks for keeping me out of the ranks of geekdom, there, Hodgins. So, what do you read? What lurks in your attic that your mom threatened to toss?"

"Some independents, but X-Men mostly. Wolverine!" He clenched his fists and made little snickt, snickt noises. "It's almost become a cliché to like him, but hey, we're both short and we're both the best at what we do."

Booth chuckled, feeling more of his fugue lift. "As I recall, he's not a scientist, and holds a grudge against them. Meaning, he probably wouldn't like you much."

"Unless I could prove my value and usefulness first. You know," he mused, "I've tried to make adamantium. But none of the ingredients are listed in the comics."

"You would!" Booth said, the chuckle turning into a full-fledged laugh.

"Come on, Booth! Imagine what could be done with something like that, and if I could make something that had the properties of vibranium, we could re-create Captain America's shield. Infinite uses, man!"

"Figures. Once a squint, always a squint, even when reading graphic novels. Have you seen Angela?"

"In her office." He wasn't going to say a word about having seen Dr. B. head that direction just before Booth arrived--or that he hadn't seen her leave yet. He really should have guessed this wasn't going to be easy as Angela thought. Still fun, though…

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So I have revealed myself as a comic book geek! Like Hodgins, I like some independents and the X-Men--or did, anyway--though Wolverine was never a fave. I much prefer sneaky powers, like phasing or teleportation. Happy Bonesday, all!