A/N: Um. I know. This isn't quite what you've come to expect from your SweetJamieLee. But...wellz...sometimes, ya gotta try a little something different. Don't judge:)

And don't read if you have an aversion to femslash, or anything just a little kinky. Just...don't torture yourself. If you have a slightly bent side...then go forth and enjoy. And let me know what you think. So I don't get neurotic.

Loves!

--

I've always been someone who looks out for number one above anything else. You can call me selfish, or call me a bitch (I've been called both), but the fact is that it's gotten me to where I am today. And I'm a very successful woman; there's not a whole hell of a lot that I want, that I don't get.

It was that mentality that made me surprised that their relationship bothered me so much. What the fuck consequence was it to me that they were sleeping together? I knew from the first moment I saw them together that they wanted each other. Even when he was fucking me, I knew that she was in the back of his mind. I don't know what his fantasies were, and there was no way that he'd ever tell me, but knowing Booth it was some variation of arguing with her violently, then shutting her up by tossing her on that desk that she keeps so neat and tidy and going down on her until the only thing she could scream at him was his name. I had known that, but it barely phased me, because as much as I liked Booth, there was no part of me that entertained thoughts of a future with him. We were good friends who gave each other good orgasms. The fact that he was in love with Temperance Brennan was a non-issue; at least until he decided to actually do something about it.

I decided that that was the issue. Booth sees himself as an honest guy, and for the most part he is. I always figured that when it occurred to him that there was more to his relationship with Brennan than 'just partners,' he'd own up to it. When I found out they were sleeping with each other, I thought that's exactly what happened. Then he gave me this crap about how it was no-strings sex, and that they were both free to see other people.

Give me a fucking break.

Booth couldn't handle it when they were just working together, and she dated someone else. He got jealous when someone eyeballed Brennan wrong. And now he was telling me that it was perfectly fine if she fucked him, then went out on a lovely date with one of her professor friends? It was ridiculous. It was ridiculous, and it wasn't honest, and even though it was none of my business it bothered me for some reason I couldn't entirely identify.

It bothered me enough to get involved, which was ridiculous in and of itself. Getting involved in other people's drama never ended well. But. I had a point to prove.

I went into her office, and she was sitting at her desk…the one that Booth had fucked her on 1,000 times in his fantasies, and for all I knew, in reality now. She looked up at me with those aquamarine eyes that made her stand out among everybody else. I, personally, never allowed myself to be sucked in by them. "You're sleeping with Booth," I pointed out.

She blinked at the stated fact. "Yes?" I had known the topic wouldn't faze her. She had convinced herself it was just about sex, too.

"He's under the impression that he'd be perfectly fine if you'd sleep with someone else."

"That's my impression, too," Brennan said slowly, dropping her pen and pushing her seat back a little. "That's the arrangement we have."

"Why?" I asked bluntly, surprising myself a little. I was taking liberties with her, knowing she had very little shame. But it wasn't like me to probe this deeply.

"It allows us to relieve the sexual tension between us without the complications of a romantic entanglement." She crossed one long leg delicately over the other, her skirt riding up just a little bit to expose her knees, and she looked at me curiously. "Does it bother you? I know that you and Booth were lovers in the past; I'd assumed that any feelings you had for him were resolved."

"They are. That's not why it bothers me," I was quick to correct her. "I just think it's going to become an issue. I think he's deluding himself that it's okay with him if you sleep with other people."

She paused, her pretty lips frowning. "That could be problematic."

"I thought you'd think so," I said. Look at me, Dr. Camille Saroyan…here to save the day. It occurred to me that I had done my part, and I should leave her to muse over this dilemma on her own. But something kept me firmly pasted to her desktop.

"Well," she said thoughtfully. "What do you think I should do? I mean, if he's not admitting it to me or to himself…how would I find out? I don't want to get further into this, and then have it damage our partnership when I discover Booth is incapable of keeping things casual."

I nearly laughed. 'Naïve' wasn't often a word ascribed to this particular woman. But suddenly I felt like the Big Bad Wolf about to pounce on the unsuspecting, sweet Little Red Riding Hood. Although, to my credit, I didn't even know where that feeling was coming from until the suggestion left my mouth.

"You'd have to test it." I knew the idea of testing something would be appealing to her. She liked testing things. She was scientific. Methodical.

Her tongue darted out to wet her lip. "Test it? As in, have sex with another man and tell him about it to gauge his reaction?"

I snorted. "Do you want to kill the man? Or have him kill somebody?"

"No," she replied, honestly, and I smirked. For the first time, she looked a little irritated with me. "Well what do you suggest?"

It came to me in a rush, and my own audacity shocked me, even while it turned me on. "Something a little less threatening. Something…potentially a little more fun."

She cocked her head, and as much trouble as she had reading people, there must not have been any mistaking the darkening of my eyes, and the change in my demeanor. There was a moment there…I could see the wheels turning in that brilliant brain, the possibilities entering her mind in a rush. This was the time to tell me to mind my own damn business. To tell me that she and Booth were two adults who could certainly manage their own sex life without any outside assistance, especially from me, his ex-girlfriend, and her boss.

But that's not what she said.

"Tell me," she whispered. And I smiled.

Apparently Little Red, in some ways, was less naïve than I thought.

She worried that the plan was manipulative; she and Booth had always been straight with one another, and she didn't want to change that. I assured her that we'd be one hundred percent clear with our intentions. There was no reason to disguise them. She worried that she had never been with a woman before. I promised her that A. It was unlikely to go very far before Booth's true feelings emerged and he put a stop to the evening's activities, and B. It wasn't so different that a creative woman like she was couldn't figure it out quite easily. Besides, I'd be doing most of the…talking. After all, it was my point to prove.

It was cute to see her just a little nervous. Maybe that was the Big Bad Wolf in me.

--

That night, while I was getting ready, my logical side questioned myself…why I was so invested in this. How far I was willing to go. But none of those thoughts gave me more than a slight pause as I rubbed lotion all over my body, and pressed my breasts into a lacy push-up bra. I lingered by the mirror for a few moments, eyes tracing the shape of myself. My dark skin had a satiny, glowing sheen, and I imagined how it would contrast with Brennan's light, almost alabaster complexion. A small shiver went through me, the first time that day I had lost any of my composure. I shook it off. I was on a mission.

When I arrived at his place, it took awhile for him to answer the door. I waited patiently. His face was much less so when he finally emerged, looking confused. "What can I do for you?"

"Good evening to you too, Seeley," I told him, mocking his brusqueness. He was wearing only pajama pants, his hair ruffled, and he looked overly anxious to get rid of me.

"It's not a good time, Camille. Can we talk tomorrow at work?"

A voice emanated from inside the apartment. "It's okay, Booth. I invited her. Let her in." I smiled. My hero.

Now he looked even more confused, and he hesitated for a moment, probably wondering if he should ask more questions. He relented, though…he nearly always did, for her…and stood aside, and I brushed past him.

I caught sight of her then…lingering in the doorway to his bedroom, hair damp and face scrubbed clean, wearing one of his dress shirts that skimmed her upper thighs. I had to smirk…the little brat couldn't wait. She clearly had just come from the shower, after having sex. I couldn't really blame her. Seeley Booth could be a persuasive man, when he wanted to be. Or sometimes, when he wasn't even really trying. She gave me a bit of a guilty smile. It was lovely.

"You ladies want to clue me as to what's going on here?" Seeley asked, finally moving past confusion into suspicion.

"There are a few things going on here," I said, dropping my jacket over the back of his couch. I couldn't resist flickering my eyes over to Brennan to gauge her reaction, and was gratified when I saw her eyes widen in response to my decidedly less-professional-than-usual wardrobe. "One is that I'm about to test a theory I have. Another is that your incredibly generous partner has arranged a little show that she thinks you will enjoy. Two birds, one stone."

Booth was a smart guy, but I knew it would take just a little bit longer for this one to sink in. He'd fight letting it sink in. "What theory…" he asked slowly, the wheels in his head turning.

"I already told you my theory," I informed him.

Brennan spoke. "I told her she was wrong. I told her that I believed you were just as capable as I of compartmentalizing, of keeping this about sex. I told her I'd prove it."

Her words, combined with my earlier ones, finally made the pieces snap together in his head. Sort of. His jaw dropped open. "I'm…we…I'm not going to have sex with both of you," he stuttered, eyes saucer-round.

Now, he was just being a baby, and I chuckled a little. "You already have slept with both of us. But don't flatter yourself. You aren't doing anything tonight except either proving or not proving my point. Maybe you'll surprise me."

I turned my head back to Brennan, whose flesh had become just a little bit pinker at his revelation, contrasting beautifully with the white dress shirt she was wearing. Her bare legs underneath it seemed to go on for miles. Maybe it wasn't she who was unable to resist their late-afternoon romp; it could have very well been he who couldn't wait, while she was looking like that.

He tried one more time. "Bones…do you really want…?"

A sudden surge of irritation flowed through me. He was going to ask her if she really wanted to do this, and the thought of not getting the opportunity to at least start with my little game pissed me off more than I thought it would. "Sit down, Seeley. This has very little to do with you. You can make us both leave. Or you can sit and watch like a good boy. But you aren't going to stop us." That shut him up, like I knew it would. He dropped dumbly, obediently onto the seat of the armchair. I turned back to Brennan, away from him. That was the last time that evening, for a very long time, that I even looked at Booth. I wondered if Brennan would be upset with me, for speaking to him so harshly, but she didn't seem that way. To the contrast, she seemed a little excited.

She was looking at me questioningly, expectantly, sweetly: the trademark Little Red expression. What now? Put down your picnic basket, Red. Stay awhile.

"You sit too," I told her softly. She did, on the cushions of the couch, her eyes not leaving mine. For the first time, I let them pull me to her. Delicately, I straddled her lap, my small black skirt hiking high on my thighs. A small gasp left her at the unexpected movement on my part, but she recovered quickly, her head tilted up, her lips parted just a little. It felt new, but strangely right: the two of us nose-to-nose, eyes challenging yet respecting one another at the same time. It's the way it had been from the beginning, with us.

"Are you going to kiss me?" she asked, softly, breathlessly.

"Among other things." Indeed, I couldn't take my eyes off her lips right now, colored a natural pink that reminded me of ripe apricots. For some reason, it took me a moment to get up the nerve to touch her. My head dipped, and I felt a sharp intake of breath, close to my lips. At the last second, I evaded her mouth, dropping my head to her throat instead. I pushed the still-damp hair there aside, and almost hesitantly, before my lips met the creamy skin of her neck.

Jesus. It was so soft. Did the woman have skin made of spun silk? Jasmine-scented spun silk, warm against my mouth, vibrating as a quiet moan left her and her hands raised, fingertips brushing against my bare arms. Oh, Red. Had the thought of your succulent flesh entered my mind before this moment? Had I lingered in the woods, allowing other tasty creatures to pass me by, just waiting for this delicacy? That couldn't be right.

Her head fell to the side, giving me access to the long, pale column of her neck. So trusting. My lipstick smudged there, marking her. It made me bolder, and I tasted her more voraciously, sucking a little at the flesh, licking off the red marks that I made. I worked my way over her jawline, now cupping her head in my hands to increase the pressure of my mouth against her. Up and over, coming ever-closer to those full lips.

That's when I received the first surprise of the night.

She didn't wait passively to receive my kiss. As my lips finally touched the corner of my mouth, I felt her hands on my shoulders tighten. My next sensation was being crushed to her, pulled so that my breasts pressed hard against hers. Suddenly, all there was was wet and hot and soft as she pressed her mouth to mine, not bothering with the slow build-up that I had started, her tongue finding mine and immediately curling around it. I must have gasped, but she swallowed it while she tasted me. The flavor of her mouth was a little like wine…pinot noir, maybe, rich and fruity…and in that moment I didn't feel in control anymore. My heart fluttered, and my panties dampened, and I felt as taken by a lover as I had ever felt in my life. Her enthusiasm was breathtaking. One of her hands drifted down my back and cupped my ass, pulling my hips closer to her.

I needed to find myself again…remembering, this was my point to prove…and I pulled back on a gasp. "Jesus, Brennan," I said, my voice trembling.

She looked at me unwaveringly, lips smudged with my lipstick and curled in a smile.

Who was the Big Bad Wolf now?

I saw then her eyes flick over my shoulder. Looking at Booth.

My lust and my sense of competition both now fully aroused, I experienced a surge of reactance at her action. Using my hands and one knee, I pushed her to the side and down against the cushions of the couch, so that she laid prone before me.

I was going to make her forget that he was even in the room.

One of my fingers trailed down her jaw, down her neck, down to the first open button on Booth's shirt. "Where'd you learn to kiss like that?" I asked her, trying to be teasing, trying to regain my sense of control, flipping open that first button.

"You'd be surprised what I've learned," she said, and I leaned over, kissing the sass from her lips while my fingers made first contact with the skin between her breasts. The reaction I was having to her body was startling to me; a deep throb had taken residence between my legs, and she had only kissed me. Kissed me extremely well, granted, but this wasn't supposed to be about sex. For either of us.

It must have been my hostility towards Booth (when did I start feeling hostile towards Booth? Maybe when I found out he got to touch her like this. Whenever he wanted.) that made me grab the shirt of his that she was wearing and pull, mindless of the buttons that popped off and flew, some disappearing underneath the couch cushions. Good. He'd find them later, be reminded of this. She had a sharp intake of breath at my action, and as the shirt parted, I found just what I expected…she was braless, wearing only cotton bikini panties the same color as the shirt.

Fuck. Gorgeous. I could see why Booth's denial would have been so strong. Of course. Just sex. Anything she wanted. Anything, just to be guaranteed to be able to see her like this again. My hands itched to touch her, and I reached out.

She grabbed them before I could stroke her. "You too," she whispered. I should have known she wouldn't allow herself to be naked alone. That would have meant I had one up on her. I didn't even question her for a second, though, crossing my arms in front of me to pull my red halter top over my head, exposing that push-up bra I had worn just for this occasion. Her long, slender fingers framed my ribs while I reached behind my back and tried to remember how to work the clasp while looking at her peachy nipples, stiffening against the cool air, the same color as her thoroughly-kissed lips. She was making it hard for me to think. Focus, Camille.

"Pretty," she sighed, once my fingers managed to work. Her eyes were raking over me, and I could barely stand the intensity of them so I leaned down to kiss her again, a small shock of sensation coursing through me when our bare breasts brushed one another, my darker nipples rasping over her pale ones. The second I raised just a little bit, to inhale deeply, her palms found my breasts, fingers tightening and cupping just a little to make tiny pockets in the center of her hands, pulling and making my nipples feel as they were being caressed and tugged from every side at once. How the fuck was she so good at this…good at everything?

I couldn't allow her to continue pleasuring me like this, or I was going to forget about everything I came here for, the point I had to prove. Taking her hands, I forced them off of me, above her head, pinning them there with one hand, trying to be the Wolf again. This was my hunt. My sneak attack. I pushed wet, hot kisses on her, down her neck, down her chest, leaving a moist trail in my wake. Her heart was fluttering hard under my mouth, and I reveled in it, tracing my tongue across the pulse, down the slope of her breast, and finally to one of those sweet, peachy nipples that had mesmerized me since I had first pulled open her shirt. My tongue circled, my lips grasped, and a soft "uh" left her. Yes. My eyes rose while I ministered to her, wanting to take in the beautiful flush of her arousal.

She was still looking at him, over my body, her eyes heavy-lidded but very, very focused on the other person in this room.

NO.

With a frustrated sound, I left her breast and let go of her hands, working harder now to pull those little noises from her, kissing my way down the silken skin of her stomach while my hair tickled her, stroking her nipples with my fingers while my mouth moved ever-closer to the place that was the source of that intoxicating scent. I would find out the secret, push the buttons that would make her focus only on me. Want only me.

It took a second for me to register when the hands grabbed my shoulders…not her soft, delicate ones, but stronger, more demanding. Then, with a near-sob of irritation at the loss, I felt myself lifted up, away from her, not aggressively, but firmly. Very firmly.

Once my feet hit the ground, I spun around in anger. He was standing there, his eyes dark, his forehead tense. He was holding my shirt, handing it back to me. "That's enough, Camille," he said in a choked voice.

What? No. Not yet. He wasn't supposed to stop us yet. I opened my mouth to protest, and his face changed, his expression all warning.

"I said that's enough. You proved your point." He looked at the woman spread out on his couch, who was looking at him wide-eyed. "I don't want this, Temperance. It's my hands that should be on you. Me who makes you scream. That's all."

It was so unfair. He shouldn't be able to take this from me. I wanted her now, squirming beneath my tongue while I pleasured her. And suddenly, faced with having it pulled away this abruptly, the rest poured in.

I wanted her in my apartment for dinner, scolding me for eating meat while I rolled my eyes and told her to concentrate on the vegetable lasagna that I had made just for her.

I wanted her curled up next to me on the couch in the evening, watching some bad forensics show and scoffing at the bad science, arguing with me about the merits of bones over flesh until I teasingly led her to the bedroom, where I could show her just how much better flesh could be, compared to what's underneath.

I wanted to take lunchtime breaks with her at work, wandering through the park to get fresh air, watching the mothers there struggling to manage their screaming toddlers, and breathing collective sighs of relief that she and I would never be subjected to that particular hassle.

Oh, fuck.

I had been the naïve one. The one in denial. I had been the one wandering into the woods on this night, my picnic basket full of hopes and dreams that I hadn't acknowledged to anyone. Not even myself. And now, looking into Booth's challenging expression, I knew that the Big Bad Wolf was now anxious to take it all away.

I protested. "That's not your decision to make," I told him, defiantly. His eyes narrowed at me.

"Cam." Brennan spoke for the first time since our interruption, as she struggled to sit, pulling at the buttonless sides of the shirt, covering herself. I looked down at her, with her tousled hair, her body still pink from my attentions. She was finally looking at me. I felt hope.

"It's okay," she whispered. "I love him, too."

At her words, he growled…actually growled, his possessive instincts finally given permission to make a full appearance, and I was brushed aside while he descended on her, pushing her down to the cushions once more while their mouths met hungrily. I had known this. My theory was now fact. It wasn't a surprise. I had been right, and they had been wrong, and I should have felt triumphant, because Camille Saroyan loved to be right.

But I didn't. And I shouldn't have watched for as long as I did, but I felt numb, pinned to the floor while I watched him devour her with an urgency I had never seen before from him. He wasn't slow or gentle, and she didn't appear to want him to be. Of course she didn't. She was ready. I had made her ready, dammit, with my hands and my mouth, but he was reaping the benefits. Because he was the one who loved her. And he was the one who she loved.

He was working his way down her body, and pulling her panties aside, mindless of my presence, getting ready to give her my gift. His mouth connected with her, and she cried out, and there was a moment…she looked over at me, her eyes a much darker shade now. Everything that was in them was a mystery to me. That was when I fled. I pulled on my shirt while I spun around and grasped all my belongings.

If there were any chance that she could read the emotion behind my eyes…it couldn't happen. I wouldn't allow it.

I ran out, into the night, feeling much less Big and Bad than when I had first come here tonight. My point was proved. But I hadn't realized how badly I had wanted to be wrong.

--

I went to work early the next morning, stayed in my little corner of the lab, doing the work that I was so good at. A few people came in to ask me questions, and my curtness made them leave as soon as possible. When it was her, I had to struggle with my initial urge to tell her I was busy, and to come back later. There was no reason for me to be angry with her. My feelings were completely irrational.

She walked in hesitantly. "I didn't get a chance last night to thank you. You were right. About Booth."

I continued working, carefully making an incision in the chest of the body I was examining. It kept me from having to look at her. "I had thought, if I were right, you were going to have a problem with that," I said, more shortly than I intended.

"I thought I would, too," she said. "But…I guess…" She paused. "Cam?"

She was asking for my attention, and I sighed internally. Laying down my implements and removing my goggles, I gave it to her.

She continued. "Have you ever found out you had feelings…that you hadn't known you had? It just comes. Like a revelation."

Was she teasing me? Her eyes said no. Still, I didn't speak.

"I don't think it was ever just sex for me and Booth. We used sex as an excuse…to express feelings that we didn't know we had. Does that make sense?"

Does it make sense, like having never had serious feelings for a woman you've slept with, until this very moment when they emerged for the most inappropriate person possible? Make sense like having overwhelming respect and admiration for a colleague, as well as an extreme appreciation for her more womanly attributes…and then discovering, in a split second, that those feelings were actually love? It makes too much sense, Little Red. Far too much.

"Anyway…it was you who brought those feelings to light. So. Thank you."

I could have said a million things right then. Told her how her situation paralleled my own. But I couldn't. I had been right about her and Booth. But I had been dead wrong about my own intentions, and I couldn't risk her knowing that.

"You're welcome," I told her.

She gave me one of those dazzling smiles, and turned to leave. I went to put back on my goggles, my gloves. Suddenly, hand poised on the door, she turned again. "Oh, and Cam? You were right. Much more fun than the alternative way of proving your point." Another smile, and she was gone, leaving me there, dumbfounded.

I hated her a little bit then, irrationally, for unknowingly teaching me something new. That every woman had a Little Red and a little Wolf in her. And both could get her into a little bit of trouble.

But somehow, that knowledge didn't make me stop wanting to venture into the woods again.

--

A/N: Whatcha think? Am I still Little Red in your minds, or have I turned into the Big Bad Wolf?:)

Thanks to Mia, Crea, and BDC for their support on this one.