Authors Note Revised: So, I took this down a week or so ago, simply because I was insanely discouraged with the story. I am human enough to say that the negative reviews got to me and it tossed me into the sometimes never-ending abyss of writers block. Well, by taking this story down I was actually able to review it very closely and make some much-needed revisions that actually made me really proud. Not much has changed, I mind you. But it's cleaned up a little bit in the grammar section and some tid bits have been added here and there. That being said, I am proud to say that I will be continuing this series! I hope those who have read this and stuck by me from the start are still there and still excited. And welcome to any newcomers!

I am sure that this has been done multiple times; but my imagination sprung to life while re-watching the infamous episode and I just had to entertain it. So, here we are. This is my first Bones Fan-Fiction; as well as my very first entry on this site.

My warnings are as follows: Strong language, strong sexual content/language, aggressive/rough sex. If this is not something that tickles your fancy, or you're made easily uncomfortable by such scenarios, or you are simply underage as set by your state/country laws, I strongly urge you to exit out and find something more appropriate to read.

Also, as a side note, I am sure there doesn't need to be a Spoiler Warning for we are at the end of our favorite series; but just as a precaution for any newcomers out there; this story contains Spoilers for Season 6 Episode 13. However. The ending is an alternate ending from which I have created. I do warn that the first HALF of this first chapter is a RECAP to set the pace for future chapters. It will be in italics. NO COPYRIGHT. A RECAP from Booths POV IS ALL THAT OCCURS. The whole story is done from Booths' point of view. I apologize ahead of time if either character seems out of their normal character.

Disclaimer: I do not own Bones, nor it's characters, nor any stocks/titles/rights…etc. Fox and Hart Hanson own everything. Thank you, and I sincerely hope you enjoy. Please read and review. Friendly comments and constructive criticism is more than welcome.≠

I can't begin to remember what time it is; but from the pang in my tailbone as the wooden barstool dug into the fused bones, I figured an imaginary clock in my head pointing somewhere close to midnight. The clink of a double shot glass being filled echoed in my ears, and I swirled the heavy tumbler of scotch in my hand, not quite ready to shoot the burning amber liquor.

The regulars had already left, the younger crowd even dissipating into the chilly night. Before I knew it, I was alone at the familiar street bar. My thumb running across my brow ridge, my eyes glazing over, and when I wasn't gulping down a triple-distilled, burning fluid, I was forcing the lump in my throat back into the recesses of my heart. I didn't even move when she walked in.

I heard her boots on the hardwood floor, I smelt the rush of her perfume flow in and I swear it was making me dizzier than the alcohol. I nearly cursed under my breath when she took a seat next to me; too close. And then she said it,

"You drunk?"

The alcohol that buzzed in my veins made me want to swing around and stare at her in disbelief. I thought, what do you think brainy? But instead, with a deep growl and trying my hardest not to slur my words I stated solemnly.

"Relatively. Relatively I'm dru-Meaning I'm drunker than usual, but no. I am not a drunk."

In that moment, I really thought she'd try and spurt out logical nonsense about my brain being clouded with toxicity from the alcohol, but instead she said with confusion,

"You sound, something."

I almost chuckled. The brainiac that was my partner was unable to describe how I sounded. How bout this sweetheart, I sound heartbroken, I sound angry, sad and my brain is a little disheveled. I sound something. Psh what is wrong with you? I rolled my eyes and even though the urge to condescend her was burning at my lips, I just fumbled with my glass. Then, she said it.

"Hannah called me…"

My eyes watered and that lump came back and I felt myself choke over my words.

"Just…I really…I don't want to talk about that. Okay? I just…I'm over it...I'm done. Okay?"

How could she even try? Sitting here next to me, staring at me with those large almond shaped cerulean eyes, how could she even begin to-? The anger was pooling and I felt as if it was going to start seeping out of my skin as she continued on.

"So, what happens next?" Ah, the famous words of the night. Seemed to me after I pour my heart out, and then it's crushed under the high heel of Rebecca, or shoved away by Miss Dr. Brennan herself, or hey even tossed over the bridge by Hannah, I'm the one who has to come up with, what's next. I roll my eyes at her again, and when I look at her to respond I have to jerk my head back around. I can't stare at her pleading, pity raging eyes. Those beautiful eyes that have denied me and everything that I have to offer.

So I spout off whatever comes to my mind in hopes that it's solid enough to make her stop.

"What happens next? What- You like evidence…right Bones? Well, here's the evidence. The evidence is that there's something wrong here. Now, I fell in love with a woman…I had a kid…She doesn't want to marry me. Well-and and then the next woman…Well she's…"

I had to stop myself for a second because the memory of my lips on hers flooded behind my tear filled eyes, but she spoke,

"Me." And I felt that rush of jumble come back to my lips. "...Yeah and now…I mean…what is it with women who just don't want what I'm offering here?!"

"Booth-"

I cut her off, unable to hear her apologies or rational explanations.

"No…just you know what drink. Drink."

I tell her, my tone a little more firm than I expected. I toss back the umpteenth shot and out of the corner of my she's putting hers to her lips and I know somewhere inside that bittersweet burning liquid isn't even touching her tongue. But I continue on my rant anyway.

"…I just really…I'm just mad. I'm just really mad at all of you right. I'm just mad. Okay? So, you wanna know how this is gonna work? Okay. This is how this is gonna work. Me and you are partners. That's what we do. We're partners. All right? I love that. I think that's great. And uh uh we're good people who catch bad people right? Yeah, and and…and we argue and we…we go back and forth, we're partners. And sometimes after we solve a case, we come here and we celebrate. That's what we do. We celebrate. So, as far as I can see, that is what happens next. Are you okay with that?"

My tone is harsh and my words spill out fast and a part of me wonders just how much she listened to. But I know my Bones, deep down I know my Bones and I know she heard it all. And when I stare into her eyes hoping for her to acknowledge my question, I can see my reflection. I can see the pain etched on my face, I can feel the glaze over my eyes from the booze. But when she doesn't respond, and I feel I've stared at her expectingly for too long, my eyes fall back to my glass of scotch and I continue. This time the anger seeping into my every word, and I know it's going to sting.

"Great. Because you know if you are, tell you what you stay here and you have a drink with me. All right maybe uh we uh have a small talk, chit chat, and if you're not well, you can leave. There's the door and uh tomorrow I'll find you a new FBI guy."

My throat burns and I can't tell anymore if it's the booze or my emotions running thick, but I can hear how shaky I sound. I think it's because a part of me feels like she's going to get up and walk out that door. And I'm actually stunned when she speaks,

"Those are my only choices?"

I barely let her finish when I bite off,

"Yeah. Those are your only choices." And it's silent, but out of the corner of my eye I see her nimble fingers pick up the shot glass and her relaxed sigh and gentle tone,

"Then I'll have a drink."

We sat there silent next to each other calling round after round to the bartender until he raised Last Call. I stumbled and grabbed the edge of the bar, and felt her tiny hand try to pull me upright. I could only help but to stare at her incredulously as if I was daring her to even try. She smiled crookedly at me and I felt my eyes lingering on her plump, lip-gloss stained lips. She looked cute tonight. Her attire simple street clothes, but her hair was done nice, and her make up was subtle but professional. And the way alcohol made her blue eyes glaze over was nearly breath taking. She shifted uncomfortably under my gaze and motioned with her free hand to walk ahead of her.

I tried to find my sure footing, but I wobbled and quickly reached for the doorframe. I don't recall a time when I had been this drunk and I felt a slight embarrassment creep to my cheeks. We fell into the back of the cab within seconds and sat in silence as it drove us towards her apartment. My fuzzy mind tried searching for an explanation as to why her place, and I summed it up to she wanted to go home first. She wanted to get away from my drunken self and just go to bed. But when we arrived and she pulled on my arm, trying to haul me out of the cab, a hopeful smile flitted to my lips and I clumsily climbed out and followed her the best I could up the stairs.

It happened almost in slow motion, but her hands were on my chest nonetheless and my back was flush against her door. I could only catch a blurred glimpse of her eyes before they were shut and her lips were sloppily against mine. Her mouth was hot, fervent as she tried her best to make this sexy. Gripping her hips in an insecure vice, I involuntarily kissed her back. It was almost as if I had run into a sobered wall and everything was immeadiately clear as if I hadn't had one drink. I pressed against her lips with the tip of my tongue asking for permission to explorer the depths of her mouth.

My thumbs rubbed deep circles on her hipbones, eliciting a soft moan that parted her lips for me. The sound made me dizzy and I felt my knees weaken. Her tongue had peeked out and was dancing along mine, stroking the line of my teeth, probing the roof of my mouth, teasingly brushing my lip; I could feel my head spinning, my heart pounding against its cage. The alcohol was sweet on her tongue and the sound of her gentle moans as I rubbed my hands up and down her waist, around her back, over the sweet curve of her ass, was music to my ears. Settling my hands on her ass, giving it a firm squeeze and yanking her further against me until she brushed against my growing erection, she whispered my name against my lips.

"Booth…"

"Yeah…Bones."

It was breathy, and I surged forward needing that contact back almost as much as I needed oxygen. But she jerked away, hands still firm on my chest continuing to press me against her door. I stumbled for what to say, where to look, so I searched behind her, surveying her apartment, but my fuddled brain only saw places to take her. To make her scream my name, and beg for more.

"Booth.."

Her gentle voice brought me back and I quickly darted my eyes back to hers, a blush creeping to my cheeks. Her lips were swollen and wet and I licked my own wishing she'd just come back to me.

"Yeah..."

"I…I don't want you to…I mean…"

"I understand Bones. It's okay."

I pulled her back to me a little forcefully to break the tension in her arms. I kissed her heatedly and I felt something in my chest tighten. My stomach flipped, my heart raced just a little faster and it was almost as if I could feel my veins engorge as blood burned through them. Anger. It was a surge of anger that was washing over my whole frame and suddenly I saw nothing but red behind my eyelids. No.

The once gentle hand that was at the back of her neck suddenly gripped her jaw and held her lips to mine. I swallowed her whimper as my tongue forced its way into her mouth. Delving into the depths and playing ruthlessly with hers. With a quick pivot, I forced her back against her door and I felt the pinch of her nails through my shirt. Pulling back with a growl, darting my eyes between her swollen lips and her doe-like eyes I tried to reason with the frustration. I tried to swallow it down, breathe it out, but the longer I tried the more it clawed at me and screamed for more. I snapped my eyes shut trying to will it all away, silently arguing with it.

This isn't how it should be. No, make her pay. Punish her for all she's done to you. She doesn't deserve that. She was there for me, she stayed. She broke your heart. Stomped on it and now she's teasing you with her sinful lips as if you won't be pushed out the door in the morning. No, no, that's not true she wouldn't. She would, and she will. So make her never forget. Make her need you. Grab her by that pretty face and kiss her. Brand her with your teeth like the man you really are. Give that luscious ass a slap and teach her. Yes, teach her you're in control of everything. But I'm not. I'm not in control.

I snapped my eyes back to hers as her nimble fingers smoothed over the black button down nervously. Her pupils were so dilated, I could barely see the blue that I so often got lost in. Her bottom lip was quivering, my calloused hand still holding firm to her jaw. I could see the fear, the arousal, the understanding. She knew what I needed, she understood the why's. I waited for her to question me, I waited for her to push me away, blacken my eye and throw me to the ground. But she just stood there, not meeting my gaze, her fingers playing with the buttons of my shirt. She was trying to soothe me as my much larger frame shook like a leaf before her. When she finally spoke the tension in my jaw retracted and I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.

"Just do it Booth."

I nearly stepped back at the plea. But I felt the grudge ridden beast rear its head again. Yes, do it Booth. Fuck her. Rip open her taunting blouse and mark her tits. Make her long for you when she looks in the mirror. Spin her around and give her exactly what she deserves. I felt my brows furrow, but the frustration was towards him. I wasn't that kind of man. I made love, I cherished and appreciated; generously giving before receiving. I never hurt, or marked without permission or endearment. Battling with myself as I stood there in front of her; not knowing if I should pull away and leave or just give in to the animal like urge.