Here it is. Chapter Nine. Sorry that it took a while for me to complete it. I was debating about the ending... But the debate is finally over. YEAH! And THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU for the support I have received. So many makes me feel happy...

Chapter rating: DEFINITELY a T. Pretty high on that scale, too. An eight out of ten where the others have been maybe a four or five. Rating for suggestive material and mild language
Spoilers?: No but for all of you Hodgela lovers out there: WASN'T WEDNSDAY'S EPISODE THE GREATEST FOR THOSE TWO? I WAS SCREAMING MY FRIGGIN HEAD OFF!!!
Shout-Outs: Again to Kelsey, Julie, Jamie and a few of the other people that I have borrowed for this story. Your characters are all bowing to you...
Author's Note: Many of you have expressed concerns about Camille's being out of the way or not. Look closely. I allude to it. (Actually...I almost come out and say it. There is more for that witch, my pretties. Much more. MWAHAHAHAHA!) And this is also a treat for those of you who have been waiting for a little something-something.
Disclaimer: Cloans on a loan. Every. Last. One. Except for the hotel manager...he's mine.

Chapter Nine: Pent-Up Desires are Rarely Discreet

"Why did you provoke him, Booth? You could have gotten Zack seriously injured."

Brennan glared at Booth from the opposite side of the metal table that they were sitting at, a taco halfway to her mouth. Her eyes were very angry.

"He's fine, Bones," Booth sighed, motioning to Zack who was filling up his cup with Diet Coke and glancing warily at a very large woman standing next to him who kept 'accidentally' bumping her purse into his rear end. "Besides: It got the kid into jail. We aren't going to end up misplacing him while we're here. He's our best connection to D.C. that we've found and is the first suspect on my list."

"But that doesn't mean that you have to go and get my people beat up by an adolescent kid." Brennan bit down on her taco and chewed furiously as her angry gaze relentlessly stayed locked on him.

"Not only that," Booth continued to defend himself, "I proved a theory. He has anger-management problems. That could cause problems for a possible girlfriend."

"That's not going to prove anything in court, Booth. Besides," Brennan picked up a piece of chicken that slid off of her taco and popped it into her mouth, "lots of kids like him have anger issues."

"But do they all flip like a light switch when you start asking questions? I was just asking him about his uncle and he started freaking out at me."

"His reaction is less common than most, I'll admit, but it doesn't mean that he killed that girl."

"Is that a gut feeling, Bones?" Booth grinned.

"No, it's just that we have no physical evidence to back it up. And other than your first impression we have no other evidence whatsoever that helps support this case. I'm reluctant to accept anything that is not supported by fact. You know that."

"Of course I do, Bones. How could I forget?" He winked at her discreetly as Zack slid into the seat between them. "Anyway, we can't interview Jake tonight until his lawyer gets here but we have an appointment tomorrow morning. So tonight I am going to call Camille and ask her to look into Robert Leeward and see if she can't keep him in D.C. for some kind of questioning or something. Other than that we have the night to spend doing a little bit of paperwork and just puttering around town." He gestured out the large windows next to them. "I suggest that first we need to see if we can get one of these restaurants in Washington. This salsa is phenomenal."

"Dr. Saroyan isn't going to like you calling her for work tonight, Booth," Zack mumbled through a bite of beans and rice.

Booth shook his head. "Well she didn't exactly call me at the best of times last night, either." He tried not to smile when Brennan made a sound that seemed to him an indication of a mutual grudge. "Besides, it's during the work week. I think she can bear prolonging her date with—what's his name again?"

"Chris O'Donnell:" Brennan said, a faint smile tugging at her face, "the second-richest contributor at the Jeffersonian."

"Angela calls him a classic dork," Zack agreed with a nod.

Booth grunted into his burrito as he noted the tone of rebuke in their voices. "When are they actually going to tie the knot?" he asked.

"In April," Brennan sighed, taking a bite of her taco.

"I hear that Mr. O'Donnell wanted it closer to now but she refused." Zack shook his head.

"Angela said that Dr. Saroyan claimed that she'd always wanted an April wedding but Angela herself doubts that fact. She says that Camille is just afraid of the consummation."

Zack snorted. Booth raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

Brennan and Zack grinned broadly. "You've never met him, have you?" Brennan said. It wasn't a question, exactly. Booth shook his head. "Well if you do meet him then I'm sure you'll figure it out on your own."

Zack nodded. "Personally, though, I think the two deserve each other."

Booth stared at the two smiling Squints and was once amazed at the bitterness that the entire Squint Squad had for their boss. After she'd met Brennan and threatened to fire her they'd began to become downright cold towards her. He could kind of see where they were all coming from—they all gravitated around Brennan—but sometimes he pitied Camille for it. It couldn't make work easy. Of course… he smiled into his Coke. She could do something to improve the situation by not making subtle threats when things weren't going exactly her way.

"When are we going down to the station to talk to Jake?" Brennan's question penetrated Booth's thoughts and he looked up.

"Uh…Not until tomorrow. His father called their attorney and he won't get out here until around noon so Jake is off-limits. I want to talk to Mr. or Mrs. Darrow a bit and see if they can't shed a little light on the subject of Keiely's disappearance. Although I don't think that we are going to get any better person to help us than Jamie." Booth shook his head. "She was really broken up about it, wasn't she?"

Brennan nodded. "She cried a lot."

"I doubt that you giving her a signed copy of your books would do anything to allay her sorrows, would it?" Booth offered a small smile.

"No, I don't think so. But I'm going to give her some anyway. She kept talking about how Keiely loved my books and…" Brennan blushed lightly. "It was embarrassing but…" she sighed and closed her eyes. "This job never gets easy, does it?"

Booth shook his head. Looking over at Zack, he raised his eyebrows. "That's rule number one, kid. Doesn't matter how many cases you have or how many people you encounter. It never gets any easier to rip the rug out from under people."

Zack nodded grimly. "I'll remember that."

Leaning back into his chair, Booth glanced at his watch. "We've got to get to Keiley's house. Her father should be getting home in half an hour."

Silently, Brennan and Zack collected their trash and stood, tossing them into a litter bin before following Booth out of the restaurant.

- - -

"That could have gone better," Booth grimaced, running a hand through his hair. They were sitting around another circular table, almost identical to the one that they sat at three hours ago, sipping milkshakes as the sound of a jukebox filtered through the air.

"Do they often throw food at you, Booth?" Zack asked, his fingers deftly picking at a noodle stuck to his sleeve.

Brennan shook her head, a tiny smile creeping into her eyes. "No but unfortunately we can't throw food back."

"That rule is there for a reason," Booth chuckled. "If Bones were allowed throwing food she wouldn't stop there. She would have probably gone for the skillet hanging on the hook in there. That is why she doesn't get a gun."

"Do I get a gun?" Zack looked up hopefully.

Booth's face took on a look that clearly voiced his "No way" before he even said it. "What is with Squints and guns?" he sighed. "You're all a danger to society."

"I wouldn't shoot just anybody…" Zack protested.

Booth gave him a look of indignation. "Don't even start asking, Zack. I'll hit you."

"If you hit him," Brennan mumbled, not looking up from the notes that Booth had taken, "I won't hesitate in breaking your arm."

"I see where your loyalties lie," Booth groaned.

"You saw what I did with a kid, Booth. If he had been an adult and we hadn't been at a school I probably would have broken his arm." She looked up briefly and smiled. "And I agree with Zack. We need guns. What if Mrs. Darrow had decided that she wanted to throw that skillet at us? Zack and I would have been bread."

"Toast, Bones," Booth corrected automatically. "And if she had picked up the pan I would have shot her myself. That's not your job. Your jobs are to stand there, sound smart, and to give the occasional intellectual boost."

"That's not fair, Booth," Zack said crossly.

"Welcome to my life, Zack," sighed Brennan.

"Hey, I'm not that bad." Booth stared at Brennan indignantly.

"You don't have to deal with yourself when you're in one of your funks though, Booth. Now shut up you two while I go over these notes."

"There's nothing to go over, Bones," Booth said crossly. "We didn't learn anything of use except that Mrs. Darrow doesn't like people suggesting that her parenting skills are less than pristine."

"We learned that Keiley wasn't allowed seeing any boys and that her parents had a big problem with Jake when they found out about him."

"That's nothing new. Doesn't really give the parents motive."

Booth and Brennan paused, looking discreetly over at Zack whose brow was furrowed in thought. Slowly, he looked up from his milkshake and cleared his throat.

"What do you think, Zack?" Brennan urged gently.

"It would give Keiley and Jake a reason to run away together to D.C. though, wouldn't it? Especially since at first glance he seems to be related to Robert Leeward."

Brennan smiled and nodded. "Great job." She looked over at Booth discreetly and he winked at her. They'd spoken earlier about how she needed to coach him on certain things and reward him when he did well. She'd complained that it made Zack seem like a puppy but had complied after a while.

"When is Cam calling back?" Booth asked. "You called her before we went to Keiley's house, didn't you?"

"Yeah," Brennan sighed. "I called her but she didn't answer. So I called Angela and she said that she would track Cam down. Said that she knew what restaurant she and Chris were headed to."

"Cam is going to have Angela's hide for doing that, isn't she?" Booth smiled.

Shrugging, Brennan took the last sip of her milkshake and stood up. "I don't know but I think that it is time we find a hotel and check in for the night? We need to do a little bit of research but we can't do that until Angela finds Cam. And even then we might have to wait until tomorrow." She brushed a strand of hair from her eyes and looked at the clock on the wall.

Booth nodded in agreement. Looking up at a clock mounted on the wall, he smiled. "If we hurry up then maybe we can catch a movie."

"A movie, Booth?" Brennan raised her eyebrows incredulously. "Why are we seeing a movie when we are working?"

"Technically," Booth said slowly as he stood up from his seat, "we are supposed to be going home after work. Just because we are in Ohio doesn't mean that we can't kick back and relax." He grinned suggestively. "Do you remember Vegas, Bones?"

"Since we are speaking in technicalities: we never really kicked back. You just got beat up a bit. Anyway, I thought that I might work on my book a little bit."

Booth put his hands over his heart as if mortally wounded. "You would rather spend time working than spend time with your partner and your protégé?"

Brennan gave him a look and kept her mouth shut, clearly telling him that she didn't think that that remark warranted an answer.

"That's just mean, Bones," Booth sighed heavily. Looking down at Zack, he smiled. "You wouldn't mind going about town with me, would you, kid?"

"Actually," Zack spoke hesitantly, "I was considering reading tonight. I just got this fascinating book about culture in Guatemala and…"

Booth rolled his eyes and turned on his heel, tossing his cup into the trashcan. "Squints just don't know how to live their lives," he commented exasperatedly over his shoulder as he opened the door to the restaurant and stood, waiting for his companions to follow. Brennan and Zack looked at each other doubtfully before following him, disposing of their own cups on the way.

- - -

"Knock, knock."

Brennan looked up from her laptop in annoyance, glancing at the digital clock – it read 8:17 PM – and then up to the door of her hotel room. "What do you want, Booth?"

"Just open the door, Bones. I have something for you."

Rolling her eyes and groaning in irritation, Brennan unfolded her legs from under her, stood up and stretched the kinks from her back, and walked up the door, unlocking the deadbolt. Opening the door, she peeked out into the hallway. Booth grinned and held up a bag of take-out. "You forgot to get dinner, Bones, and so I ordered some food. It's Tai and the manager tells me that it is the best in town."

"You spoke to the hotel manager?" Brennan raised an eyebrow suspiciously.

"He was at the front desk when I called down." Booth shook the bag and sent enticing smells Brennan's way. It was true: she'd been too engrossed in her writing and had completely forgotten to provide her body with the necessary sustenance. Opening the door wider, she beckoned for Booth to come in.

"What about Zack?" She closed the door behind Booth and turned to watch him.

"He ordered a pizza or something." Setting the bag of food down on the table beside the TV, Booth turned back and met Brennan's eyes with his own.

"And what did you tell him?"

"I told him that if I didn't feed you then you would starve to death." Booth's voice was rough and he strode forward a few steps toward her. Taking her face in his hands, he lowered his lips to hers and kissed her fiercely, smothering her automatic protests. After a few moments of surprise, Brennan responded in kind, wrapping her arms around his neck and meeting his kiss with equal ferocity until they had to pull away reluctantly for a breath.

"God," gasped Booth breathlessly. "I've been wanting to do that since we got that damned phone call."

Brennan nodded and raised her lips again to his, kissing him briefly before removing her arms and bypassing him as she walked over to the neglected bag of food. "Zack is next door, Booth," she sighed heavily as she reached into the bag, pulling out a box of noodles.

Booth came up behind her, putting his hands on her flat stomach as he pulled her back so that his lips could graze the line of her neck. "Zack is about as into that book as you are into yours. He probably would have starved as well if I hadn't pulled him back to the world of the living and suggested that he feed himself." He bit her earlobe and tugged gently, smiling to himself when she moaned softly and dropped her head back onto his shoulder.

"We really shouldn't be doing this, Booth," she whispered softly, trying to collect her thoughts. "What if he hears?"

"He won't."

"Pent-up desires, once released, often come out less than discreetly, Booth."

"Then we'll tell him that we were watching TV."

"I am not about to suggest to my coworker that I am watching porn!" Brennan gasped indignantly as Booth slipped a hand up to caress her arm, left bare by the T-shirt that she wore.

"We'll tell him that it's called 'Deadly Swarm.' Sounds the same if you listen to it."

"You watch porn, Booth?" Brennan mumbled.

"Nah," Booth chuckled into her skin. "I prefer the real deal."

"The porn industry is one of the most degrading factors towards women in today's society. Men often watch just to see women degraded and to feel the power that the male on the tape is experiencing." Brennan's voice was becoming thicker as Booth's lips moved over her shoulders as he nudged the fabric of her shirt aside.

"Mm-hmm," he mumbled in agreement. "That's what I would have said." His hands were back to the hem of her shirt and he was lifting it slightly so that he could trace lazy lines around her navel. "You know, Bones, I was extremely close to doing this to you back at the school. There's just something so hot about seeing you kick someone's ass."

"I could kick your ass, Booth," Brennan gasped as she felt her shirt lifted a little higher. "Did you ever think of that?"

"If you were going to you would have already done it. Besides: we were interrupted earlier. I didn't like that so much." He stressed the statement by lifting her shirt the rest of the way and pulling it over he arms, which she lifted compliantly. Gripping her waist, Booth turned her body so that they were facing each other. Lowering his mouth to hers, he pressed up against her and held her to him with his hands on her back. When they pulled away, he smiled down at her suggestively. "Do you think that we can get away with anything with the Squint next door?"

Brennan blushed and lowered her face, rushing to come up with a coherent answer. "We're on the job, Booth," she finally whispered. "What if we get caught?"

"Simple: we won't." His hand moved to her hair which was tied up in a ponytail. Tugging on the hair tie, he pulled away and watched as her hair cascaded around her face. Sighing, he ran his fingers through her hair and lifted her face to his. Tenderly their lips met and their tongues began that slow, sensuous dance. Feeling her arms moving up his chest and around his neck, Booth felt once again the burning sensation in the pit of his stomach. Her slim body moved closer and closer to his as she moved her fingers to his hair, massaging his scalp.

"This is wrong, Booth," she gasped when they broke their kiss for air. Booth nodded in agreement but his lips moved to that spot that he had found on her couch right behind her ear. Smiling as she arched her body against him and hissed in a sharp breath of air, he nipped at the sensitive spot. "And that's not fair."

"All's fair in love and war, Bones," he responded slowly as his hand moved from her waist to his pocket. Drawing out his cell phone, he hit and pressed the off button. Smiling slyly at her, he winked. "No more pesky phone calls to interrupt a moment."

Brennan felt a smile spreading across her own lips in response as she slipped from his arms to walk over to the TV. Grabbing her cell phone from its position on top of the set, she too turned it off. Grabbing the plastic bag that sat abandoned on the counter, she moved over to the bed and sat down cross-legged before closing her laptop and slipping it onto the floor. "I'm starving, Booth," she complained when he raised his eyebrows and frowned at her actions. "I haven't eaten a solid meal since that Chipotle's place. And this stuff smells almost as good as Sid's stuff does."

Smiling at the emphatic way that she was digging through the bag looking for the best stuff, Booth moved to sit down next to her. As she spread out the food around them he broke out the chopsticks and produced a TV guide that he had requested down at the front desk. Staring at it with concentration for a few minutes, he grabbed the remote and turned on the television, switching the channel to the Science Fiction channel. Brennan, done sorting the food, looked up at the TV and a laugh of disbelief slipped through her lips.

"The Twilight Zone, Booth? You watch this show too?"

Booth looked over at her in surprise. "Of course. Have you ever seen it?"

A broad grin slid across her face. "It was the only TV show that I ever watched religiously when I still had my television. I've loved these since I was a kid."

"Wow," Booth grinned back at her. "One more thing I didn't know about the enigmatic Temperance Brennan. And one more thing we have in common."

"What do you mean one more thing?" Brennan asked, poking him with her chopsticks. "It's the only thing I'd ever have in common with a guy as annoying, arrogant, and pig-headed as you. To suggest otherwise would be insulting to me."

"Was that a joke, Bones?" Booth asked, trying to keep a straight face. When she raised her eyebrows and stared at him with an equally straight face, it became more and more difficult before Booth broke down in laughter. Brennan smiled and reached into a container filled with pork. As she chewed, Booth surveyed the meticulous spreading of the food. Finally deciding on noodles, he took a large bite and pointed at the TV screen with his chop sticks. "Actually," he said through a mouthful, "I turned this on because the next show on would be the beginning of an X-File marathon of the sixth season and on. Starting us off is the movie."

Brennan let out a strangled laugh. "I've never seen any of them, Booth. I don't think that I can start out with the sixth year—"

Booth shook his had dismissively. "Naw. The movie was made not only to reward faithful viewers but to welcome new ones so you don't have to have seen any of the show to understand it."

"Did you plan that, Booth?" Brennan looked up with amused speculation. He just laughed and shrugged elusively, trying to look as if he were trying not to look guilty. Brennan chuckled and scooped a large bite of chicken out of the container. Chewing thoughtfully, she leaned back on the bed and watched the TV screen. "I haven't seen this episode before."

"What?" Booth gave her an indignant look. "This is a classic. You see, this kid has an ability that whenever he's angry at someone or something he can send them away to the 'field.' He's taken away cars, cities, and now this guy is ticking him off."

Brennan raised an eyebrow and watched the kid on screen tell the man how bad he was. When he turned into a jack-in-the-box, she smiled softly. "That's why I loved this show. It always has that little surprise to it even though, logically, you should have been able to predict the ending."

"Wow. You analyzed TV shows when you were a kid?"

"No," Brennan poked him with a chopstick. "But looking back I think that may have been some of the intrigue."

"That's just weird, Bones. Ouch!" he yelped as she whacked him on the knuckles. Giving her an outraged frown, he swiftly moved the cartons of food from the bed and onto the end table and grasped her by the wrists in the same movement. Flipping her on the bed so that he was poised above her, he pinned her down.

"What are you doing?" Brennan gasped through her laughter. "Get off of me you big—"

He cut her off by pressing his lips to hers and trapping her even further to the bed. She moaned softly as her toes curled inside her socks. When he pulled away, he grinned at her slyly. "You shouldn't have hit me, Bones," he said softly, his voice hoarse. She tried to move but he gripped her wrists tighter and moved his knees to either side of her waist. "Actually, you hit me three times so I get two more…" he leaned down again and met her mouth with his, gently moving his tongue over hers. Teasing her lower lip between his teeth, he tugged gently, feeling heat course through him when she groaned quietly. He definitely liked these little noises from her. And he wondered what other noises she could make and what he had to do to hear them.

Moving her hands above her head, he positioned them so that he held both her wrists in only one of his hands. He ran his newly free hand down her neck and between her breasts, listening to the hiss of air as she arched up against him. Continuing the trial, he made his way to the hem of her shirt and down her jeans a little bit until he reached the area where her legs joined. She squirmed as his fingers applied light pressure through the fabric, teasing her. Moving his lips from hers he pressed them against the cord of her neck and peppered them down to the top of her shirt. "Temperance?" his voice was lower and Brennan felt something in the pit of her stomach uncoil, not just at the sound of her name, but also at the way he said it, making it feel like a caress against her sensitive skin.

"What?" She was appalled to hear her voice sounding so close to a whimper.

"How thick do you think those walls are?" His hand had moved from between her legs to the hem of her shirt and he seemed to be gravitation around the decision of whether or not to pull it over her head.

"About five inches, maybe."

"Do you think that Zack will hear us?" His lips were back on her neck and when the pressed against that place that he knew was so sensitive, she gasped for air. Tugging her wrist from his hand, she grabbed his shoulders and shifted her legs so she was able to roll them over on the bed, giving her the advantage of being on top.

"Just shut up, Seeley," she whispered roughly as they kissed more insistently, both feeling the evidence of the other's arousal. "And help me get your damned shirt off."

Booth chuckled against her lips but was unable to help her as his hands were already quite busy with removing her shirt. After a few frenzied minutes of kisses and curses over buttons, Brennan successfully tugged Booth's shirt over his head. Taking advantage of the moment Booth was able to get her shirt off as well. Then, sitting up on the bed and putting her on his lap, he pressed his chest to hers, skin to skin, the only obstruction between them being her purple laced bra. Taking note of the article of clothing that he had never suspected Brennan would indulge in, Booth chuckled into her lips and raised his hands to cup her breasts.

"Aren't these a bit frivolous?" he questioned when the surfaced for air.

"I wear them all the time," Brennan gasped as he applied pressure to her breasts. "You've just never gotten to see them before now…"

"Stupid," Booth mumbled as he moved his mouth from hers and to the creamy flesh above her bra. She gasped and moved her hands into his hair while muttering an agreement.

"Dr. Brennan?"

Booth and Brennan halted simultaneously, holding their breaths and hoping that what they'd just heard was in their imaginations. No such luck.

"Dr. Brennan? Angela is on my cell phone asking for you. She says your phone is off." Booth looked up at Brennan and mouthed the name. 'Zack.'

Clearing her throat, Brennan looked toward the door. "I'll be right there." And with one more angry look at Booth, she snatched her discarded shirt from the floor and shoved it on, handing Booth his before walking toward the door, silently voicing a string of explicates in every language she knew. And that was a considerable amount.

Nee-hee-hee. I can almost hear the screams of protests and the mimicking of Brennan's oh-so-bad vocabulary. But did you really think that I was going to let them consumate in a HOTEL? Pshaw. Yeah right. Now skeet-skeet my lovlies to press the little button. The more reviewes, the sooner that the rest of Booth's clothing comes off.

And I did keep my promise to take his shirt off, didn't I? I even got Brennan's off as a special treat...

And doesn't it just make you want to smash you cell phone against the wall?