Blindsight

A/N: Three cheers for Lance Sweets! He knows how to tell it like it is, baby.

Oh, and on a side note, I know I'm terrible at replying to reviews. And I know it may make me seem like a grumpy, unappreciative recluse (which I'm not!) so I'm going to take this chance to thank all of my reviewers, especially the dedicated ones. You guys are sexy.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own.

Tellin' it like it is…

"I…I hate to be the one to break this to you guys, but you're dating." Sweets stutters, unable to tear his gaze away from Booth's face. It's tilted upward, locked in an emotionless countenance as Brennan holds an ice pack over his left eye.

"Don't be stupid." Booth scoffs, jerking back when Brennan sharply reprimands him for moving. Still, his gaze remains narrowed in disbelief at his therapist.

"Dude. You punched out her date."

"He was being handsy." The woman explains, removing the ice and allowing her partner to sit up. "Agent Booth was only performing his duty as my partner," she pauses "though I admit, I would have preferred it if he'd stepped back and let me get him myself. I'm quite capable."

"I know that, Bones. I was just acting on instinct."

"Perhaps you should rely more on reason next time."

"Who relies on reason when their partner is being felt up against their will five feet away?"

"Reasonable people, obviously."

Sweets looks on with the fascination that one might have while watching a lion and a grizzly bear fighting a cage match. "Ahem."

"What?!" They both whip their heads to face him.

"You guys are dating." He repeats.

"That's ridiculous, Dr. Sweets. If me and Booth were dating, we'd know."

"Well," he begins slowly "everybody else knows. That's got to count for something."

"Okay." Booth throws his hand up and stands, closely followed by a miffed looking Brennan "That's it. We're outta here."

"Well," Sweets looks at his watch "This isn't technically a session, since you two were the ones who…"

"Great. Bones? Dinner."

"Of Course." The two stand and gather their coats, heading towards the door.

"What do you call this then? Going to dinner on an almost nightly basis?"

"…"

"Being friends, that's what."

"Right she is. Friends. Friends and partners." Booth nods sagely as they continue their path towards the threshold, his hand resting on the small of her back.

As they disappear around the corner, he briefly considers pointing this out. In the end, the therapist keeps his mouth shut, deciding that (dating or not) they'll figure whatever this is out, soon.

He hopes.