Mistake

After a difficult case Brennan and Booth take comfort in alcohol and each other. Was it a mistake? Can they make a relationship work or will a huge mistake tear them apart?

Disclaimer. I don't own the characters or the show. I'm just taking them out for some exercise.

Revised to fix the best typo ever :-)

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Dr. Temperance Brennan and Special Agent Seeley Booth stood next to each other staring out at the crime scene before them, their shadows silhouetted against the night sky by the flashing blue and red police lights.

"Great work Agent Booth, Doctor," a man wearing a blue FBI jacket said as he walked by and nodded his head at them. Neither Brennan nor Booth made any response.

Everyone was congratulating them. They had solved the case within five days of being brought in, catching a murder who had eluded the FBI for four years and was responsible for at least that many killings. But they had been too late to save his last victim. Maggie Jones – age 5.

Booth looked over at his partner out of the corner of his eye. She was standing very straight with her arms crossed over her chest, practically hugging herself. He knew that she was taking this hard. They both were, but Bones was newer to the FBI fieldwork. Sometimes things were harder out here than in a lab.

"Come on Bones, let's go." Booth took hold of her arm and gently led her toward the truck. She allowed him to lead her away without protest.

More accolades came their way was they walked. Booth accepted them with a weary and half-hearted, "Thanks."

Booth climbed in and started the engine. Happy to be leaving the crime scene, and hopefully this case, behind them. Their time on the case had been short, but intense.

Little girls were disappearing in an affluent suburb of Atlanta. In four years they had four missing children, all under the age of seven. Then finally last year, bodies began showing up. There was virtually no evidence and investigators had few leads. Last week another body had been found. It was assumed that the body was another victim, but the ID was proving tough and the agents on the case were stuck. So the FBI had brought Brennan and Booth in on the case. The next day, another girl had been taken.

Tonight, they had caught the murder in a small cabin in a remote area at least five hours away from Atlanta. Five hours from where the girls lived. His final victim had only been dead for about 24 hours. She was still laid out in the cabin, waiting to be taken somewhere and dumped.

"That girl is dead because of me," Brennan said in a small voice. They were the first words she had said in over half an hour and they were eating away at her.

Booth sighed and looked over at her, his eyes filled with concern. This case had affected Bones more than most. Her carefully constructed walls and clinical detachment had failed her. Dealing with the death of children was hard, about as bad as it got in this line of work. The only thing to be thankful for on this case was that there had been no evidence that any of the girls were molested.

Booth shot another look over at his partner. She had been unusually moody the last few days and he wondered if there was more going on than just this case.

"Bones," He said insistently, "That girl is dead because some psycho decided he liked to kill small girls execution style."

"I know that Booth," Bones said rolling her eyes at him. "I mean that if I hadn't missed the marker on the entrance wound the first time I examined the bones, we would have had the murder weapon sooner, and maybe caught the killer in time." She stopped there, but it was obvious where the sentence was heading. Caught the killer in time to save the last girl. Last victim.

"The forensic anthropologist in Georgia missed it. Zack missed it. You found it. Don't be so hard on yourself." Booth took her hand and gave it a little squeeze.

"I know," Temperance said, momentarily distracted by Booth's hand on hers. She pulled her hand out from under his and cleared her throat before continuing. "Sometimes I just feel guilty. Perhaps if I spent more time in the lab … I wouldn't make a mistake like this."

She noticed Booth take his eyes off the road and glance over at her after she said it. She wondered what Booth's reaction would be if she told him she didn't want to do field work with him anymore. It wasn't true, days like today excluded, but she felt torn. Pulled between her duties at the lab and her inexplicable need to fight crime with Booth. Hopefully things would change soon.

Brennan was relieved when their dumpy motel came into view. She had not been pleased when they arrived at it and would have made her own reservations at a nicer hotel, if it weren't for Booth. He had looked so sad, and well … cute, when she told him she needed to find a place to stay that she relented and stayed at the Happy County Inn with him.

They got out of the car and slowly walked towards their rooms. When they reached the doors, they stopped and stood quietly in the darkness. Temperance didn't want to leave Booth and go into her dark little room alone and she unconsciously shifted her body closer to his and stared up at the full moon.

She felt restless and unsettled tonight and it scared her. She didn't know if it was this case or just the stress of life in the last few months. Her perfect world had started unraveling last month when she had found out her parents were not who she thought they were. The one constant in her life for the last 15 years had been that her parents had been Matt and Christine Brennan, a science teacher and a bookkeeper. Now even that constant had been taken from her. It had got her thinking about which other absolute truths she believed in that may also be proven false.

Brennan's mind went back to the small lifeless body in the cabin and she felt a tear escape unbidden and slide down her cheek. Dammit! Lately she was having a harder and harder time keeping control of her emotions. Get it together Brennan, she warned herself.

"Hey," Booth said softly. He seemed to sense her unease and moved closer, putting his arm around her in a half hug.

Brennan felt her heart beat increase as he pulled her closer to him. He had always had this effect on her, but tonight, with her heightened senses, it was almost too much to bear. Booth was so good and solid. She wanted to tell him how she felt. That she felt lost and confused and it scared her.

Booth gently rubbed her arm with his hand and then dropped it to her waist. For a moment she forgot all about the case, all about work. All she could think about was how close he was.

She looked up at Booth and realized that she wanted badly to kiss him. To loose herself in the moment, abandon her rationalism, and be overwhelmed with feeling. Just do it, a little voice in her head said.

She closed her eyes and had just gathered up her courage when Booth said, "Why don't we change and go over to that bar over there," he pointed down the road at a dive called the Green Onion.

"Good idea," Temperance said as she pulled back from Booth, completely flustered. She took a deep breath to try and retain her composure. "I could really use a drink tonight."

Booth held the door open for Brennan and they were both assaulted by a cloud of, what Booth hoped, was mainly cigarette smoke. Bones stopped cautiously once she got inside the door and waited for him. Booth watched her, wondering if she had been in a biker bar like this before. Probably. Hell, knowing Bones she could probably handle a Harley better than most the heavily tattooed men in the room.

Booth put an arm protectively around her waist and guided her towards the bar. He was please to see she didn't resist. In fact she seemed to sink into him. He knew that she was upset and he was relieved that she wasn't pushing him away.

The bartender eyed them suspiciously as they walked in. They obviously weren't part of the establishments' regular clientele, but they didn't seem worried about walking into a sleazy bar with some hardcore bikers on a Wednesday night. He surveyed them again hoping they weren't law enforcement. "What'll you have?" He asked gruffly.

"Two beers," Booth said as he slapped a $50 on the bar. "And keep them coming." He handed Bones her beer and steered her to a table in a dark corner.

"I was going to have wine, you know." Brennan said as she slid into the booth next to him.

"Wine. Tonight. In a place like this?" Booth shook his head. "Nope sorry. I can't let you do it. Friends don't let friends drink wine." Booth smiled as Brennan playfully punched him in the arm.

"Hey, it's a cop thing. Beer, whisky, maybe gin. Definitely no wine."

"But, I'm not a cop," She protested.

Booth looked at her. "You must feel like one after tonight." He saw her head drop and immediately regretted bringing up the case. Idiot, he thought, you had just made her smile. The first time he had seen her smile in days.

There was a lull in the conversation as Booth tried desperately to think of a happier topic. He was saved by the waitress who brought over two more beers, even thought they were barely half done with theirs. The bartender had taken him seriously.

When the waitress walked away he looked at Bones. He wanted desperately to get her to talk to him. He started to reach for her hand, but changed his mind. He needed to work up to the conversation, get her talking and comfortable before he started on anything personal. Work. That was always safe.

"So I had my performance review with Cullen last week." Booth began. Temperance looked up from her now empty glass. He could tell he had her attention.

"It's been a good year. Cullen is very happy with the work we have been doing."

"I didn't think Cullen was ever happy with anything I did." She said as she started on her next beer.

"Yea, well … things didn't exactly get off to a great start. On our first case you threatened a senator and then shot a guy." Brennan began to protest, but Booth held a finger to her lips to silence her.

"I know, I know. You've come along way since then." He said giving her a proud smile.

"Whether Cullen likes you personally or not doesn't really matter. He is a deputy director and they understand numbers and we've got numbers."

"Numbers?" Brennan asked making the confused face that Booth found completely endearing.

"Closed cases, conviction rates. We've got some of the highest numbers in the FBI right now and that makes Cullen happy." Booth drained his beer and motioned to the waitress for another round.

"I am happy for you Booth, for your success." She said quietly, focused on the coaster she was shredding into little pieces

Booth put his hand over hers. "Our success," Booth said adamantly. "None of this would have happened without you … you know that right?"

"Of course, having a forensic anthropologist work with an FBI agent to solve murders involving skeletal remains is perfectly logical," Brennan said as if she were reading off a cue card. Her voice suddenly detached.

Booth groaned inwardly and moved his hand back to his glass. God. Would she ever admit that they were more than anthropologist and agent. That not every cop and scientist could do what they did. That their bond helped them on cases. That … well ….

Booth ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "I'm going to the bathroom." How was he ever going to get though to her? Did she honestly not realize that they had done a damn good job this year? Probably any conviction rate lower than 100 wasn't good enough for her. Booth stumbled slightly as he exited the dirty bathroom. Stress, exhaustion, and alcohol. Probably not the best combination.

As he stepped out of the hallway, the table came into view. There was a tall man wearing denim and leather leaning over the table talking to Bones. Booth stifled the urge to physically remove the man from Brennan's presence. Instead he moved forward and watched to see how Bones would handle the attention.

"I'm sorry, but I cannot accept the drink. You seem very nice, but my boyfriend will be back any minute. Thank you for the offer." The biker seemed to be confused by her rebuff.

"Uh … so that's a no?" Brennan shook her head and the biker walked away.

"Did you get a better offer for the evening?" Booth asked as he sat next to Brennan. She gave him a sly smile.

"Buzzkill wanted me to ride off on his Harley with him." Bones laughed as she said it and her laugh sounded wonderful to Booth. It was probably the effect of the alcohol that was loosening her up, but he liked to think that he had something to do with it.

"Wow, Buzzkill and Temperance. You guys would be the life of the party." Booth smiled as he said it, but secretly he wondered by her parents had changed her name from Joy to Temperance. It was like they knew what the future would hold for their little girl.

"I might be the life of the party if I keep drinking like this," she replied. Temperance took another sip of beer and closed her eyes. She was enjoying being here with Booth in this bar; it seemed soothing to her. That and the fact that she was seriously buzzed right now. She took a deep steadying breath and turned her clear blue eyes towards Booth.

"Dr. Goodman approached me the other day about some reorganization at the Jeffersonian."

Booth stiffened at her statement. So this was it. He picked up the beer in front of him and took a long drink. He had a bad feeling about what she was going to say.

"As you know," she began taking a deep breath "My work with the FBI and the subsequent courtroom hearings have been taking more and more time away from my anthropological work at the Jeffersonian." She looked at Booth, but he didn't look at her. He focus was on the poker chip, usually kept in his pocket, which he was now flipping back and forth between his fingers.

Temperance took a drink of her beer to moisten her suddenly dry mouth and continued. "Dr. Goodman wants to add another forensic anthropologist to the department."

Booth finally looked at her. Ok. That didn't seem too bad. Unless it was going to be that asshole professor.

"One position will, of course, be senior and run the laboratory." She stopped and smiled. "Goodman has assured me that no matter which position I choose I will be senior."

"Which position?" Booth asked as he signaled the bartender for another drink.

"Yes. One anthropologist will focus more on historical, ancient finds and research and the other will focus more on criminal forensics and expert testimony."

"And working closely with the FBI?" Booth asked huskily as he ran one finger lightly down her arm.

Brennan shivered at the touch in spite of herself. She looked into his eyes and saw the question waiting there.

"I … don't know. The whole crime fighting thing is kind of new. Despite that, in the last year the team has invented several new techniques to help solve murders." She brightened at the mention of her team.

"However in college …." Brennan started before trailing off, staring thoughtfully into her drink.

"Bones," Booth said. When she didn't look at him he reached across and lifted her chin with his fingers, forcing her eyes to meet his.

"Temperance, are you leaving me?"

The intimacy of the question surprised her and she sat for a moment, unable to voice any of the thoughts swirling around her head. When Booth realized that she wasn't going to answer he dropped in hand and cleared his throat uncomfortably. Brennan was prepared to answer the question she thought he was going to ask, but he was asking for more.

Maybe it was the full moon, the fatigue, or the alcohol. Whatever the reason Temperance found herself wanting to answer him truthfully. Not what she knew she should tell him, but what she wanted to tell him.

"I don't know," She began her voice so soft he could barely hear it, "but whatever happens I'm … I'm not sure I could leave you."

Booth's face broke out into a big smile. "Ok," he said his voice light with relief.

"Ok?" Brennan asked, puzzled by his reaction.

"Ok. That's good for now." He said still smiling. His smile and sudden shift in mood were contagious and Brennan found herself grinning back at him. Relieved.

"To us," she said as she lifted her glass. Booth reciprocated the toast and downed the last of his beer.

An hour later they stumbled out the front door of the bar.

"I am completely inebriated." Brennan announced as she attempted to walk a straight line.

"Not to drunk to talk like an egghead though," Booth slurred slightly as he caught up to Bones and put an arm around her waist.

"What am I supposed to say?" She asked as the light changed and they began to walk across the street.

"I don't know Bones. Wasted. Hammered. Smashed. Loaded. Fucked up." Booth ticked them off on his fingers.

"Yes, those are much more descriptive." She said as they came to a stop in front of her door. Booth pulled away from her and leaned against the wall, watching her.

Here she was again, in the same circumstance as earlier in the evening. Standing outside her hotel room wanting to kiss him, but afraid. She could sense that he was waiting for her. Following her lead.

Brennan tried to think. To remember all the reason why she wasn't supposed to want him, but her mind refused to cooperate. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and then gave up. Opening the door to her room she turned and held her hand out to Booth. He took it and followed her inside.

He shut the door behind him and turned to face her. The room was dark. Illuminated only by the moonlight spilling in from the window. Temperance reached up and touched Booth's cheek where a small sliver of light fell across his face. He reached out putting both hands on her hips and pulling her closer to him.

"Bones," he said in a low voice that was almost a growl.

His gruff tone of voice made her want him even more and she leaned over and kissed him. Booth reacted immediately, moving even closer, his grip tightening around her waist, increasing the intensity of the kiss. Brennan began to relax and let go. The rest of the world slipping away until she felt his hand lifting up her shirt and caressing and searing the smooth skin on her back with the heat of his touch.

Brennan stopped for a moment and felt a shiver of panic. She tried to step back to put some space between them, but Booth held her firm.

"Ok?" he asked, his voice filling the small room. She closed her eyes trying to stop the protests of her suddenly alert mind. He's your partner. You can't do this. She shook her head slightly to chase the unwanted thoughts away. Brennan looked up at Booth. She didn't care if she wasn't supposed to, if it was wrong. She needed him tonight. Tomorrow would take care of itself.

"Yes." She said as she kissed him again.

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So what do you think? Any reviews will be appreciated. Especially since I am going to spend the weekend playing softball in 100 degree heat and when I am dying of heatstroke, I will have something to read.