Booth knows the moment Hannah brings up the fig tree story that Bones is never going to let him live it down, but he still goes with it because he can't help loving Hannah's tendency towards inappropriate stories that is so very much her.

That doesn't mean he'll let Bones blab them to a stranger, so he stops her just in time before she shares the details with the park ranger.

Of course, it is too much to hope that this will be the end of the matter, because it's still Dr. Temperance Brennan, the woman with zero sense for personal boundaries, but at least they're alone in his car on their way back to DC when she brings it up again.

"You know," she begins in an almost business-like fashion, "considering your usual prudishness, I find it rather surprising that you'd agree to have sex in a semi-public place."

Booth groans inwardly, but there's nothing for it now. "Bones, enough already, okay? There was absolutely no-one in the vicinity, so it wasn't semi-public, and technically it wasn't even -" He immediately wishes he'd bitten his tongue instead of letting that slip, but it's already too late.

"It wasn't even what?" He's come to dread that intrigued tone, because she's like a dog with a bone once her interest is really piqued. "Sex? From the way Hannah told the story, I find it hard to believe that what you did under that fig tree couldn't be considered sexual intercourse."

"Well, it wasn't according to President Clinton," he mutters stubbornly, refusing to go down without a fight even if he knows he isn't going to get out of this.

She frowns in confusion for a moment, but then seems to get it. "Oh, you're implying that she performed fellatio on you, which President Clinton declared not sex when his affair with Monica Lewinsky became public knowledge."

"Yeah, thanks for spelling that out for me," he grinds out between clenched teeth, because he still can't help it that his blood starts rushing south when he hears her say words like fellatio in that clinical tone. That way lies madness, though, so he clings to the memory of Hannah's mouth on him that evening when she pressed him against the tree, kissed him senseless and then sank to her knees with that wicked little smile that never fails to drive him crazy. It may not be appropriate to fantasize about your girlfriend in the presence of your par… your workplace associate, but it's better than the alternative, especially since Bones dropped that little bombshell about her fantasies in Maluku at the diner. He feels his cheeks burn and hates that she can still make him blush and squirm like some stupid schoolboy, and the longer he thinks about it, the angrier he gets, because even Bones has no business being that dense, does she? He has no idea what she's playing at with all this, and he really doesn't want to know.

"I think it's safe to agree that most –" She never gets to finish what sounds like the beginning of an anthropology lecture, because that's when he snaps.

"Bones, the topic of my sex life is off limits to you, okay? You've lost the right to bring it up, dammit!"

He immediately regrets the last sentence when she recoils as if he'd slapped her. Great, now she managed to make him feel like an asshole too, but he'll be damned if he apologizes now, so he keeps his mouth shut and his eyes on the road.

They're both silent for a long time, and when she finally speaks up again, it's in that lost little girl tone he has come to dread more than anything else about her.

"Booth, I – I'm really glad that Hannah makes you happy."

He has no idea how she does it, how she makes him want to strangle her one moment and then makes his heart ache in the next, but he knows better than to contemplate it. Instead, he just says, "Thanks, Bones" as evenly as he can and is careful not to look at her.

"Are – are we okay?" Now she sounds even more uncertain than before, and Booth clenches his teeth again because he has no idea how to answer that.

"Yeah, Bones, we are," he gets out at last and still can't help the relief that floods him when he sees her face relax out of the corner of his eye.

Fake it till you make it, a voice that sounds disturbingly like Hannah at her most impish speaks up in his mind, and Booth tightens his grip on the steering wheel and resigns himself to the uphill battle looming ahead of him.