"Hey, Bones, I just googled you. 281,000 pages… What? Why are you so popular?" The last part was said to himself as Seely Booth switched to the image search. His own name had given a measly 15,000 pages. Why was the enigmatic Dr Brennan so much more popular. She certainly didn't have the same amount of charisma. And she was without a charm smile.

"I am a best-selling author, Booth. I have fans." Booth rolled his eyes without fear; she spoke without looking up. Her mind was buried deep in the scientific lore of ancient remains; the file in front of her was getting thicker with each word she wrote. Which was why Booth was in her coveted chair, at her precious computer, googling the time away until she finally put the file down and declared she was ready for lunch.

"Hey, look at this!" Booth clicked on a picture link and studied the lines. It was some kind of diagram. He couldn't make out all the pictures, so he pressed print. May as well use some of the Jeffersonian's precious resources; the bureau was grumbling about paper use, but still expected every file to be stuffed full of typed notes.

"Seriously, Bones, this is weird." He took the paper out of the printer and studied it. There were the two of them, in the middle, surrounded by a lot of familiar faces. Booth gave himself a moment to be impressed by his picture; he photographed well, before he worried a little more.

"Bones, give up on the old, dead guy. He's not going anywhere." Booth came around to the couch, where she was sitting, and sat next to her. He moved a little closer, and a little closer again until she finally put the pen down.

"Look. I think someone knows us a little too well." Booth handed the paper over.

"What? Where did you get this?" She traced a finger down the line from her picture and he saw the smile creep to her face.

"What?" He asked.

"Well, you talk about me not having a life, yet for some reason my relationship line is a lot longer than yours." She handed the paper back, seemingly careless.

"What? That's not the issue here, it's that… Besides, they might not know about… About…"

"Hm." Her tone rested her case and Booth rolled his eyes again.

"Fine, you've dated more people than me. Whatever."

"More than double what you've dated." She picked up her pen again, offering him one of those smiles which made him want to shake her and tell her that despite the fact she was usually right, she wasn't always right. Although in this case, she actually was right. So, this time, no shaking.

"Aren't you worried?"

"About what?" Her attention had drifted back to her evaluation of the dusty skeleton that was currently rotting further under Zach's watchful eye up on the lab platform.

"That someone knows enough about us to… Okay, Bones, why is the delivery guy under 'reciprocated'?"

"Did you think my breakfast comments were based only on ocular observation? Hardly."

"Oh." Booth's brow furrowed as he tried to forget the over share of information she regularly supplied him with; that breakfast conversation had made him think of men's thighs every time he ate cornflakes for a month.

"Hey, who's this guy with glasses?" Booth looked at the geeky photo and allowed himself a small smile; at least he didn't look like that.

"Bones, geeky guy? Glasses?" Booth shoved the paper under her nose and she let out a sigh of exasperation.

"Fine." She threw her pen down and plucked the paper from his hands.

"That's Peter. We lived together a few years ago."

"You… What?" Booth couldn't imagine Bones living with anyone. He didn't even like to imagine her having the occasional sleepover, but letting someone else into her space permanently?

"I am capable of co-habitation, you know. We lived together for almost a year." Her voice was almost sulky as she stood up.

"I didn't mean…" But he had, of course, and sometimes he had to give her perception more credit than he realised.

"Are you coming to lunch or not?" She'd gotten her jacket on and was waiting for him at the door. He threw his hands in the air. Of course. Now she was ready and waiting and making it seem like it was his fault they were having lunch 45 minutes late.

"Sorry, Bones, for keeping you waiting." Booth tried sarcasm and was rewarded only by a complacent shrug.

"So, what are you going to do?" She asked as he walked beside her.


"Well, what if I have a stalker? I mean, whoever made that little graph thing might be stalking me."

"Not everything revolves around you, Bones. They've got info on all the squints."

"Including you."

"I," Booth pulled her up by the arm, "am not a squint." His point made, he let her keep walking.

"Besides, they put their name on it." Booth patted the folded piece of paper in his jacket pocket and smiled.

"After lunch, we're going to pay a visit to toomanysides."

This was a plot bunny that wouldn't say die. It was written in response to the relationship map toomanysides made, which is posted at the 206bones LJ community.