FBI Barbie has to go.
The thought kept running through Brennan's head as she watched the blonde flirt with Booth. Objectively, she knew women watched him and probably flirted with him all the time. Why wouldn't they? He was beyond physically attractive, an exquisite specimen of masculinity really, and one that most women would have a difficult time not noticing. But this was different. This woman was being so obvious about her interest and all but telegraphing her intentions toward her partner.
Mine. The voice in Brennan's head said insistently and she knew she was in trouble. Because this didn't feel like regular partner feelings. This was something more. If she weren't such a rational woman, she was almost say she was jealous. But even that didn't seem to adequately cover what she was saying. Because as much as she hated the fact that Agent Perotta was flirting with Booth, it wasn't only the flirting that was bothering her. It was watching Booth turn on the charm to the woman and not knowing how much he meant it. It was knowing that she wanted to the one doing the flirting. The only one.
Admitting it to herself still didn't give her any clues as to what she should do about it.