Disclaimer: We do not own Bones, wish we did though. :)

Rating: It's T-rated for a reason, people. :) Let's just say that some characters in the story are going to have certain thoughts °cough fantasies cough° about their fellow characters.

Author's note Addictt: I'm so excited to write this story with niah1988. She's such a great writer. I hope you all enjoy this little fluff-fic!

Author's note niah1988: Our first attempt at co-writing:) Be kind, review and tell us if we'd better stop our partnership before things get too ugly. lol Addictt writes an excellent Dr. Goodman! I'd like to point out that this fic is not, I repeat NOT, a part of my Postcard Series. :) And oh yes, this story is supposed to be fluffy and quite humorous. Therefore the characters may appear a tad OOC.

Loads of thanks to Kelei, our beta. We can't thank you enough for your help. :)

Scenes in italics are flashbacks. This chapter is written in Brennan's POV.

° Chapter 1 - Come Along with Me °

I sigh and look down at my tickets. My mind drifts back to the memory of how I got them.

"Temperance, sit down," Dr. Goodman said and smiled. I obliged, albeit sceptically.

"So, why did you want to talk to me?" I asked friendly, but firm. There was a skeleton waiting for me.

"I have an offer for you," he answered while handing me an envelope. I opened it to find two tickets.

"Tickets..." I exclaimed, very surprised. "To San Salvador Island?"

"Yes," was the only thing he said.

"What for?"

"Vacation," Dr. Goodman replied, in his strong African-American tone, as if this was completely normal. Now I wasn't just surprised, I was confused too.

"You want me to go to the Bahamas?"

"Yes. Everybody goes on vacation from time to time. You haven't been away for years."

"I have," I interrupted him. "I've been to all kind of places."

"Yes, for work maybe," he immediately returned. "Go, Dr. Brennan. Have some fun, relax, do what other people do. Socialize."

I'm still not sure what Dr. Goodman meant exactly, but he had a point. Anthropologically speaking, a lot of people go on vacation. It seems to be very relaxing, on some level, and they are able to do their work more accurately afterwards. Some even speak of a new 'energy'. They also consider themselves happier.

Even though there is no logical reason to, I have decided to go. The skeleton from limbo can wait a couple of weeks longer. Dr. Goodman insisted that I take two weeks off, although the trip to the Bahamas is for only seven days. I asked him why I should take another week off, but he said I should find out myself. Sometimes that man really confuses me. I hate being confused. It annoys the hell out of me.

I take out my cell phone, press number 1 on my speed dial and wait a few seconds.


"Hey Booth... I was wondering if you'd want to join me for a drink tonight."

"Of course, Bones. I love spending some time with my favourite anthropologist." I can't help but smile at his words.

"So, I'll see you tonight at Wong Foo's?"

"I'll be there," he says and after a quick goodbye we end our call.

That evening...

"Well, Bones... Did you really want to have a drink with me or is there something else?" Booth asks as we sit down at the bar. Sometimes he knows me too well.

"Actually, both…" I take a sip from my drink and smile at the thought of what is coming next.

"What is it?" Booth probes, throwing me his infamous charm smile.

"Would you like to go to the Bahamas with me?" I blurt out, just dropping the subject on him in my usually blunt manner.

"Are you serious?" he asks friendly, looking me straight in the eye. His lips curl into an even larger charm smile.

"Yes... Dr. Goodman insisted I take some weeks off, and gave me these tickets," I reply and push the two tickets forward. "He told me to socialize..." I nod at my last words. Now he's just showing off with his charm smile. It's humanly impossible to keep smirking like that for more than five minutes! I try to read his face, but there is nothing to see except that darn smile. I guess my people skills haven't improved as much as I sometimes like to claim.

"Would you like to go with me?" I ask again, trying to sound unaffected. No way I'm going to give him the pleasure of seeing me melt down just because he's giving me the large-grin-and-twinkling-eyes combination.

"Of course Bones! I'd love to."

I take another sip from my drink and can't help but feel very satisfied.

"Can I ask you a question?" he suddenly blurts out and his eyes lock onto mine. He has turned serious; I wonder why.


"Why aren't you taking Sully with you?" I didn't expect that question. I avert my gaze to my drink and look up again into his brown eyes that contain a curious but still friendly expression.

"Well, Dr. Goodman told me to socialize; I socialize enough with Sully. Plus I like spending time in your company. Is that a bad thing?" I retort, a little insecure.

"No! God no, Bones. I'm glad you asked me," he answers and the twinkle in his eyes intensifies. I give him one of my rare smiles in return.

We remain silent for a few minutes. Then he starts to drum softly on the table as I drink up what's left of my drink. I take only one ticket, put it in my bag and smile at him again. "We're leaving next week," I announce as I get off my chair before slowly walking out of Wong Foo's.

When I get outside, my subtle smile isn't so subtle anymore. My partner's going with me to the Bahamas!

One week later, somewhere at the airport…

"Do you see them?" Angela asks as they walk through the gate. The two scientists accompanying her shake their heads. "Damn it," the artist mutters. "They must've already boarded the plane."

In the mean while, on the plane…

Booth stops to indicate the seat next to the window. I shake my head. "I'm not taking that seat, Booth."

He raises his eyebrows. "It's fine, Bones. You can have the seat next to the window."

"No Booth, I'm not sitting there."

"Bones, please," he nearly begs.

I shake my head again. "No Booth, I'm not sitting there."

"Bones, just take the damned seat!" he says through clenched teeth.

"And risk having a fidgety FBI agent sitting next to me? Do you think I'm stupid or what? You are taking the seat next to the window, Booth; that way you'll have something to occupy yourself with while I'm reading a book."

Silently but with a scowling look on his face, Booth squeezes his broad frame between the two rows of seats. "I do not fidget," he retorts after flopping down on the rather tight seat.

"Yes, you do," I shoot back, rolling my eyes. "It usually takes half an hour before you begin shifting around in your seat, and start complaining about how bored you are. Poking me in the side and snatching my papers away usually accompany your whines."

Booth mutters something unintelligible and slides a bit down in his seat, only to prop himself up again when he hears a familiar squeal ring through the plane, followed by a loud thump and someone exclaiming, "Dude! Watch where you're falling!"

He turns to me with a dangerous smile on his face. "Bones, could you be so kind as to explain to me why you invited the rest of the squints?"

I give him a confused stare. "I didn't invite them."

"Then why are Angela, Hodgins and Zach nosing about on our plane? I'm pretty sure they aren't our flight attendants."

I look up just in time to see my best friend rushing towards me. The old lady with the huge hat that's blocking the path gives me a couple of extra seconds to gather my thoughts. What on earth are they doing here?

"Sweetie, we found you!" Angela exclaims as she throws herself at me.

I return her hug, my brain already working at the speed of light to figure out the odds of the rest of my team showing up at exactly the same day, hour and plane as Booth and I. "Angela," I carefully start. "What are you doing here?"

"Leaving for the Bahamas! We are going to have such a great time. Just think of all the things we can do: sip Margaritas, catch a bit of sun on the beach, go for a swim... Hey, Hodgins can teach us how to surf!"

Somewhere along Angela's ramble, I close my eyes in a vain attempt to regain my calm. This couldn't be happening. It just couldn't. I crack one eye open to take a peek at Booth's face. He's blankly staring at the back of the seat in front of him. Now is not a good time for your poker face, Booth! "Seriously Ange, why are you here? I thought Dr. Goodman only had two tickets."

"Oh we aren't here on Goodman's request. We heard about your little get-away to sunny San Salvador and we thought 'Hey, why let them have all the fun?' That's why we're here."

"Right…" I slowly nod. I'm about to say that the thought of the rest of my 'Squint Squad' tagging along doesn't bother me, when the sight of Hodgins and Zach struggling to be the first to sit down next to the window catches my attention.

"I claim the window seat!" Zach states in a loud voice.

"No way man, I'm sitting there."

"Why should you? I was here first."

"I'm the one who paid for our tickets so it's only fair that I get to sit there!" Hodgins counters.

Another rather violent struggle follows his words. Angela rolls her eyes. "Men. Why want children if you've already got a boyfriend with the mental age of a ten year old?"

"Alright man, there's only one way to settle this." Hodgins holds out his fist. Zach does the same. With raised eyebrows I watch them bob their fists up and down three times before forming different shapes. Zach's holding out a flat hand while Hodgins' fist is still clenched.

"Ha! Paper beats rock! I get the window seat," Zach exclaims before settling down onto the seat he just won through a game of Rock-Paper-Scissors. Hodgins groans at the triumphant expression Zach's wearing.

"I'm never taking rock again!" he grumbles.

Angela lets out a deep sigh. "Right... Like I said, underneath all that brilliance, the mental age of a ten year old." She pats my hand, sending me a Cheshire grin. "You two behave while we're up in the air."

And with that she rushes off to her own seat a couple of rows in front of us. "Boys, boys... Let's behave, shall we? Hodgins, Zach won that seat fair and square but look at it this way: you get to spend the flight sitting next to me." She receives an approving mumble for an answer.

Behave? We should behave? What does she expect we're going to do? Set the plane on fire? Throw our bags of peanuts at our fellow passengers? Have a quick shag in the plane's bathroom? I shake my head and turn to Booth who still hasn't moved his gaze from the back of the seat in front of him.

"It was supposed to be just the two of us," he mumbles after a minute of silent staring.

"And now it's the five of us. It's a fun week out between friends. You're acting as if we were going on a romantic get-away and they've interrupted the whole thing."

"That's exactly what they did," he mutters under his breath.

I've clearly heard his words but prefer not to react to them. My reaction would only trigger something Angela qualified as "behaving badly". Instead I resolve to give him a strange stare. This is going to be a long flight, I can already tell.

A lot of hours later…

"I had no idea it would take so long to get here," Zach says.

"The Bahamas, baby!" Hodgins exclaims with a smirk. Angela smiles and puts her arm through his.

"First the flight to Miami, then a flight towards Nassau Airport and then the ferry towards San Salvador Island," I say, outlining our day so far as I walk next to Booth. My team is walking in front of us, chattering loudly. Now and then we hear a few squeals from Angela who doesn't miss an opportunity to stress the beauty of our surroundings.

"Did you know San Salvador was the first island, or even land, sighted and visited by Columbus?" I ask Booth.

"No, I didn't Bones."

"The beauty of these islands surpasses that of any other as much as the day surpasses the night in splendour, were his words."

"That's terrific, Bones. He should have been a poet," he mutters. He has been like that ever since we got on the plane in Washington.

"What's wrong, Booth?"

"Nothing, nothing," he denies and smiles at me. We all put our bags and suitcases in the back of the SUV we've rented, and I am stunned to see what Angela has brought with her.

"Two suitcases and a bag?" I ask her.

"What?" Angela retorts innocently.

"What is in there?"

"Sweetie," a smile appears on her face. "Magazines, sun cream, bikinis, skirts, hot pants… you name it, I have it. I even brought some things for you, knowing you would only bring one suitcase," she says pointing at my single bag.

"I don't attach to material things, such as clothes," I reply and shrug.

We get in the car, with Booth and I in the front, me driving for once, and the others crawl into the back.

"There is a big Catholic church in Cockburn Town," I inform Booth, hoping it'll change his mood.

"Really?" he queries, getting his map out of his pocket. He studies it for a moment; a smile appears on his face. "Yeah, I've heard about this. Thanks, Bones," he says and looks at me for a moment. A little spark appears in his eyes again, or is it just the sun playing tricks on me?

Suddenly Booth begins to chuckle.

"What?" I ask. The three people in the backseat become really quiet all of a sudden.

"There's this beach..." Booth says, still chuckling. "It's called Bonefish Bay."

He looks at me with a large grin, but I don't get it, and neither do the others.

"Bonefish," he explains. "Bone...fish." When he doesn't get any response, he sighs. "Never mind you people. It's funny." He shakes his head, and continues studying his map.

Ten minutes later we arrive at the beach house, or rather, beach villa. We get out of the car, stretching our sore limbs. Booth whistles approvingly.

"Wow!" Angela says as we get our stuff out of the car. Booth throws the keys up in the air once, like he always does before opening a door.

"Welcome to paradise," he announces and we walk into the house. We first enter a combined room, with a satellite TV, a couch, a loveseat and a coffee table on the right. Then, moving to the left, we see two big sliding doors leading to the veranda, and a master view of the beach. On our right we find an open kitchen.

Booth settles down on the couch while I get us some drinks. Angela, Hodgins and Zach are invading the rest of the house. I give Booth a glass of water, and sit down beside him.

"So, what do you think Bones?"

"I like it, I really like it. This house... it's amazing."

"It sure is," he responds. We make ourselves a little more comfortable when Angela and the boys return to the living room.

"Hey, why don't you boys get some groceries, while Bren and I... talk over some stuff, okay?" Angela suggests.

"I don't see why all the three of us should go?" Zach asks confused.

"Dude, they want some chick-time," Hodgins explains and together with Booth they walk out of the door. Just before Booth closes the door, he winks at me. I blush and look away. I silently scold at myself for not being able to keep that blush off my face. We've only been here for fifteen minutes and already I'm losing control.

"Sweetie, it looks like you're already a bit sunburned," Angela notes concerned when she sits down beside me. "Here," she says, handing me a tube of sun cream. Not wanting to tell the real cause of my red skin, I put the sun cream on. It can't hurt anyway. "So, Booth looked quite disappointed when he saw us," Angela starts, looking at me with her big, dark eyes.

"He's fine," I say, trying to avoid the subject.

"If you say so... Well, he won't be disappointed anymore when he finds out he is sharing a room with you."

"What?" I exclaim, panic rising inside of me. Okay, I've shared a room with him before; he has seen me in the morning quite a few times. But this is different; this isn't work related! "What do you mean, sharing a room with me?"

"Well, since Dr. Goodman booked this gorgeous house just for the two of you, there are only two bedrooms. Zach is sleeping on the couch and well..." Angela gestures at nothing in particular to point out the obvious.

"I am not sharing a room with Booth! Just put him and Hodgins together!"

"Don't freak out like that, Bren. He adores you. I'd say, take your chance while you're at it. I sure know what to do when I'd be sharing a room with such a fine piece of FBI-eye candy."

"I am not sleeping with Booth!"

"Fine. Then you sleep next to Booth. But I am taking the other room with Hodgins. It's nothing personal sweetie, but unless you've developed something extra down there that I don't know about, I'm not so keen about sharing a room with you rather than with Hodgins."

I sigh. She's right. What could happen? Stupid question. Anything could happen. Booth and I... On vacation... Sleeping together in one room... There'll probably be only one bed so that would mean... I briefly close my eyes to ban out the sensual images of a dark bedroom, a large comfy bed and silky sheets. Stop! Nothing could happen. This side of me, these thoughts ... They're not supposed to include Booth. I'm together with Sully!

"Bren? Hello?" Angela waves her hands before my eyes.

"Yes. Sure. Whatever makes you happy," I absentmindedly agree. My thoughts are still circling around sliding into bed with my partner. I thought I had banished those images from my mind when I decided to go for Sully? It's the surroundings. It has to be the surroundings. Or else I'm in big trouble.

Later that evening...

"So... Are you excited about sharing a room with me?"

"Why would I be?" Has he been reading my thoughts? "It's not like we haven't done that before, Booth," I counter, sauntering over to the bedroom door with Booth in tow.

"Yeah but we had separate beds back then."

"And I'm sure there'll be two beds now as well." Please let there be two beds. Please let there be two beds. Please let there be ... I open the door to find not two, but one very large and very cosy looking bed. Damn it, this is not good.

"Or maybe not," Booth exclaims just a tad too happy for my liking. "Looks like we're sleeping in the same bed, Bones."

I internally moan in frustration. How am I going to survive the upcoming night with him sleeping less than half a yard away? Once again I prefer not to react to his statement and instead turn away to get changed in the adjoining bathroom. When I re-enter the bedroom, I find a half naked Booth standing with his back to me at the other side of the room. I guess he took the opportunity to change as well while I was away. Right, no staring at the man, Temperance. He's got nothing you haven't seen before. Except maybe that scar on his lower back... Or that scar on his right shoulder... For crying out loud, I've got someone waiting at home for me! Honestly Booth, why are you one of those men who sleep with nothing on except a pair of boxers?

When I feel his gaze settle on me, I become aware of the fact that I'm not the only one who has chosen a different sleeping ensemble from what we usually wear when we're sharing a room while we're on a case. The way he's gawking at me, I'm pretty sure he hasn't seen me yet in a tank top and a very short pair of shorts. I nervously tug at the hem of my top.

"So, how are we going to do this?"

"Well ehm ... You take one side of the bed. I take the other side and uhm ... We stay at our respective sides of the line." Is it just me or is he nervous too? And what's up with that line? You really like drawing lines, now don't you Booth?

I pull myself together and crawl under the covers; Booth follows my example. We lie beside each other for a few silent moments before he clears his throat and states in his teasing voice, "Do me one favour, Bones. If you happen to have some very... explicit dreams about Sully tonight, don't even think about confusing me with him because then, I swear to God, I'm pushing you out of this bed!"

I roll my eyes and resist the urge to slap him. Instead I roll onto my side and mumble, "Night, Booth."

"Night, Bones." He chuckles.

Explicit thoughts about Sully; good thing Booth can joke about it. Hold it right there, Temperance. Booth and explicit dreams in one sentence? Those three words thrown together are enough to make me shuffle closer to the edge of the bed. The more distance there is between us, the more comfortable I get. It's best to have as much space as possible between us, just in case I do have explicit dreams.

Anthropologically speaking I'm acting foolish. It's perfectly normal to have erotic dreams about strong, healthy males with scars all over their bodies. I cringe at my own thoughts. Males? As in the plural form of male? What other man could I be fantasizing about besides Sully? And scars? Sully doesn't have any scars... It's our surroundings. It has to be the surroundings. What other explanation could there be for this sudden interest in Booth's physique? We're partners. That's it. There's nothing behind that line. Great, now I'm the one who's drawing lines!

We're partners. If I keep that in mind, I'll survive this night without doing, thinking or dreaming something stupid.

We're partners. I keep repeating this to myself until I feel my eyelids falling shut.

"We're partners," I mumble incoherently before sliding off into a deep sleep.

Addictt: I can hardly wait to post the next chapter! It's ... amazing ... wicked ... superb!

niah1988: Yeah, I really want to see the look on our readers' faces when they read about the k...

Addictt: °covers Niah's mouth and gives the reader an angelic smile° Read and review, people. Those are the magic words to make us post! °drags Niah to a secluded corner° What have I told you about spoiling surprises??