Warning: Major fluff. Seriously, you've never seen so much fluff in your life. Beware the fluff, for it is many.


That was how she certainly felt right now.

Paging through the scientifically uneducated profile Sweets had cooked up left her a little petulant and stifling the need to call the adolescent therapist and voice her opinion on the matter. Irked, she pressed her lips together tightly, making them blend almost perfectly into her pale skin. She gave her head a slight shake, unable to keep her eyes from rolling. Yes, Dr. Sweets exhibited impressive knowhow from time to time—usually on days when she was feeling most charitable—but the blatant guesswork served only in piquing her notorious bad humor.

Seated at the far end of her office sofa, leaning casually against the arm's interior, she was quite certain that she'd be in a temper for the remainder of the day. Knowing that she would no doubt be stuck in this ill-mood for the following hours only further put her in such a mood. Normally, her partner could rein in the young doctor's unproven knowledge on social creatures to better spare her from her own huffiness on the subject, as well as sparing Dr. Sweets from the unleashing of those bad moods she sometimes bestowed upon the therapist's guesswork. But alas, she had been left to suffer the file Sweets had cleverly crafted alone.

Before she could dwell further on the subject however, she saw a form swoop in out of her peripheral vision and felt the light smack of lips against her cheek. Drawing herself up in stunned abashment, she turned a provoked eye on her assailant. "How do you always manage to sneak those in?"

"I was a sniper, Bones. You know this," Seeley Booth reminded his partner of the universal knowledge and assumed a shocked expression that she might even forget. Or, at least, question his ability of traveling undetected.

Narrowing her eyes at him, she fixed him with a glare. "I told you, no kissing at work," she prompted in a hushed undertone, gaze shifting to peer out her office's windows in case any inquisitive or meddlesome scientists might have been listening to the exchange. His elbows had come to rest on the back of her couch, and he looked at her now with ill-contained amusement.

Huffing indignantly, she rose from her position and moved over to her desk to deposit the evil file, feigning annoyance toward her companion when he made no attempt to suppress a chuckle.

"Those don't count," he said by way of dismissal. Arching a fine eyebrow at him, she relieved herself of the encumbrance before progressing on to other realms of her office.

"I don't know what that means."

"For all the times I've heard you say that, you'd think I'd learn when to expect it." She did well to hide her smile at this, moving past him. "I mean, Bones…" he drawled, coming from behind the couch and intercepting her with arms meant for cuddling, "little things like that don't fall under your Public Displays of Affection. They're nothing. They don't mean anything—not to the extent of making out full-monty like I've often imagined. Did I say that out loud?"

This time she didn't bother to hide the smirk that now lit her lovely face. Her eyes sparkled with amusement. Four months of dating Seeley Booth, and each day the Special Agent had shamelessly whined about her 'no touchy' front while in the lab's vicinity. "I never said out in public, Booth. I mean here, in the lab. That's your only restriction. One would think you could restrain yourself from pampering me long enough for us to pass through those doors." Following this, however, her face scrunched up. "And what do you mean they're nothing?"

Momentarily thrown for a loop at her random change of topic, he blinked. "What?"

Her eyes—his favorite shade of blue—held the sweetest of troubled looks. A tiny frown reached her lips. "When you kissed me, on the cheek. You said it was nothing."

Brow furrowing, he wondered how he could explain it to her. "Well, you know… I wouldn't think they'd be a big deal. Here, I mean. Like when you let me hug you. Things like that—we're not displaying any sort of unprofessional behavior…"

She looked at him, a combination of confusion and distress marring her expression. "They're not nothing," she told him earnestly, her voice quiet. Surprised that he would even think so—that he might sincerely doubt his worth to her. "Each time you kiss me or hold my hand, Booth, it's something. It's many things for me, but never nothing."

Slowly, a smile had begun to develop on her partner's handsome features, and she felt the fluttering in her middle to match it. "Yeah?" he pressed, notably pleased by her confession.

"Of course," she insisted, staring up at him intently.

The boyish grin plastered on his face grew a little wider before it developed into a mischievous smirk. "You know…" he began, placing his hands on her hips and his toes against hers as he slowly walked her backwards. "You kissed me once in your office."

"Booth…" She tried desperately to shield her appreciative smile from him, turning her head away as she gripped his jacket for support.

"Right," he brought her to a stop, directly below a monumental standpoint and tipped his head up to look at the ceiling, "here."

She shook her head, biting her lip in amusement while refusing to look up at the aforementioned spot. "That was different. I had an objective."

"Aha!" he exclaimed. "You used me. Like a cheap napkin."

"You are such a juvenile," she laughed.

"Oh, I know you didn't mean it. After all, kissing me isn't nothing." She could see the Charm Smile coming long before the phenomenon arrived. She endeavored to resist its beguiling, but relented surrender before she could completely waste her efforts, dignity intact. "You like me."

"Stop that."

"You like me, Bones. Say it."


"You think I'm cute."

"Cute like a newborn Turdus Migratorius."

"No, I make you get all weak-kneed with the butterflies and all that other girly stuff," he went on, Charm Smile unleashed to its fullest capacity. It wavered just a fraction. "What the hell is Tortoise Migraine?"

"Turdus Migratorius," she corrected him with practiced ease. "The American robin. And how do you know it's not just your powerful animal magnetism? A female is always attracted to the strongest male of the pack. Or herd."

His face inched closer to her own, a deep chuckle rising in the back of his throat. "You think I'm the strongest?"

He was goading her. She knew it.

She drew her chin up defiantly. She would not be goaded.

"That's not relevant. Also, as I've observed before, you appear to be a good breeder." If embarrassing the hell out of him didn't work, she couldn't fathom what would.

Seeley Booth was not so easily defeated. The grin turned wolfish. "You lookin' to make some baby herds?"

Damn him, she groused, squawking indignantly—not having expected this turn of events.

However, as quickly as he'd morphed into the sleek and suave Innuendo King, the boyish enthusiasm almost immediately replaced his antics yet again. "You like me."

She could feel his fingers tracing ticklish patterns along her waist and the small of her back, but knew it was futile to attempt any form of retaliation in this stage of the game. A silly grin was immediately etched upon her face which she fought to tone down. "Don't, now..."

"You like me, Bones," he intoned. Laughing happily, he buried his face between her ear and shoulder, peppering chaste kisses in rapid succession along the column of her neck and jaw.

A delighted squeal escaped her as she struggled in his arms. "Booth!" she giggled, swatting his arm and squirming away. "Someone will see!"

He smiled against her, laughing again. "No one will see," he carelessly assured. "Except maybe Angela. Peeping from afar through her Matchmaker Goggles."

"Oh God, then I have to listen to her shrieking the remainder of the day and quite possibly the next," Brennan hummed a soft chuckle, loving her friend no less.

Booth nuzzled closer against her. "I could get you some ear plugs, babe."

She tipped her head back and laughed—music to her partner's ears. Out of the corner of her eye, however, she saw a body pass by her office wearing the traditional blue. She squeaked, trying to escape from her captive position in his arms. Sighing with dramatic resignation, Booth pulled away from her and fixed her with a pout, looking quite abused. Puppy dog expression stamped on his face.

"Oh, stop it," she grinned, swatting him again.

"Boyfriend abuse," he thought decent to point out.

He was then subjected to a common pinchy faced expression, and suppressed the urge to mirror the look. "I was going to cook you Macaroni tonight, but if you're feeling mistreated, perhaps my judgment is off—"

His eyes were instantly alight.

"Mac n' Cheese?"

"The very same."

"Dear God, I'm shaking. What time is it?"

"Hardly the time to go home for the day," she laughed. "Cool your aircraft and let me finish up here."

"Jets, Bones. Jets," he whined. "Cool your jets."


"Alright, then. Why don't I leave you to your obligations—"

"Of which you so flippantly interrupted." Though her tone was accusing, this was said with a warming smile.

"—and I'll go lighten the load on the Everest of paperwork I've got piled up."

"That's fine."

She scrunched her face up in silly contentment as he gave her an abrupt peck on the nose. "Pick you up at six?"

"Seven." What she received in response was a series of whimpers. "What? I have a lot to get done," she insisted. "I just got in some new remains from Limbo."

"Six thirty?" he bargained in a small, hopeful voice.

"Six forty-five."

"Done," he smiled. He pulled her in for a quick hug and following a tender goodbye, made for the door.

She watched after him, a stupid grin alight that she'd have found impossible to wipe off if she had tried. Just as he had disappeared out her door, however, she found herself calling his name. She'd begun to step forward when he popped his head back in at her beckoning. "Yeah, Bones?"

Surprising him, and maybe even herself, she stood on her toes and placed a kiss directly onto his lips, savoring his familiar touch. Why was she always complicating things with all these little rules, again?

After a moment, her eyelids fluttered back open and she found him staring back at her in pleasant surprise. She smiled up at him sweetly. "Six is fine."

The megawatt grin that lit up his face did well to melt her heart completely. Indeed, Seeley Booth had no trouble giving the always-professional Dr. Brennan a multitude of sugar-induced butterflies. He nodded, unable to say or do anything but flash that smile, and then he was gone for real.

She watched from the threshold of her office as he strolled past Hodgins on his way out the door. The entomologist gave him a look of annoyed befuddlement. "Who gave you the Golden Ticket?" she heard him ask.

"What?" her partner replied, that same grin still in place. He spread his arms, backing out of the lab with a bounce to his step. "Can't I be in a good mood?"

Beaming herself, Brennan stepped back into her office after he was gone from sight. A contented sigh escaped her lips, having completely forgotten about her previous bad mood.