Disclaimer: Bones and Booth belong to Fox, not me.

Author's Note: Thank you so much to everyone who previously commented on any of my other stories. I appreciate your taking the time to read and review and welcome any criticism you're willing to offer share. And thank you as well to anyone who read but didn't review. Comments are ALWAYS appreciated, but I know there are numerous reasons why people sometimes don't comment. In any case, thanks for reading.

As for this particular story, I'd like to share a bit of the thinking that led to it. I know that the writers for the show aren't going to let Bones and Booth get together anytime soon. That said, I think they ooze sexual tension, and I would like to see some of that explored. And I think that Temperance has a practical enough attitude about sex that she just might be willing to call Booth out on what she thinks is happening between them. Whether she understands exactly what that is, well, only time will tell. :)

Temperance Brennan couldn't sleep. She had tried a number of techniques -- a glass of warm milk, a hot shower, even a CD of Gregorian chants. Sleep remained elusive. With a sigh of frustration, she punched her pillow before tossing it off the bed and sitting up. In the dark emptiness of her bedroom, she could admit it -- she was sexually frustrated. It wasn't diffuse frustration, either. No, her unfulfilled desire centered on one maddening FBI agent whose crooked grins and outrageous quips simultaneously made her want to kiss him and slap him.

The small, discreet touches were driving her insane. Booth's hand on the small of her back as he guided her out of a room, the brush of his fingers against her shoulders as he helped her put on her coat... Those gestures made her skin prickle and warm until she marveled that she didn't burst into flames. The scientist in her recognized that spontaneous human combustion was scientifically unsubstantiated and highly improbable. But the woman in her wondered.

The woman in her had long since realized just how well Booth was structured -- and wondered how they might fit together. Too much time spent wondering about that could be distracting, which could be fatal in their line of work. Could it be that the only rational thing to do was to sleep with Booth? Yes, perhaps just once. They were both adults; surely this was the answer. The physical release should be enough to dim her curiosity. Then they could go back to being partners, without any distractions.

She knew that he found her at least somewhat physically attractive. His glance had been decidedly appreciative when she'd pulled that wad of bills from her cleavage in Las Vegas.

But she wouldn't know for sure unless she asked.

To be continued...