Well, I've done it again. I've managed to put off writing another chapter of "Worth It" because my brain just wouldn't let go of this strange idea that popped into my head. I swear my next project is finishing "Worth It" for all of you dedicated and loyal readers, but this thing just kept poking at me.

A HUGE thank you and shout out to mumrulz, who served as my test audience for this piece and gave me marvelous feedback. I hope it lives up to her expectations.

I'm not gonna lie to you, folks. This story has some language and not-friendly sex. This was a different story for me to write. Turn back now if you expect flowers and candlelight and whispered declarations of love, because you won't find them here.

He was a piece of shit. He had killed that girl. He had killed all those girls. He beat them, gagged them, raped them, and then he ended them. When the team finally broke through the bullshit of the case and confronted the bastard with the truth he'd had the audacity to smile. The disgusting perverted fuck had actually let his lips part and shot her some sort of conspiratorial grin, like she was in on the whole obscene plot.

That had made her mad.

She had reached across the table behind his head and slammed it down on the table. Then she did it again. She heard him yelp in furious shock. She was so angry and so overcome she couldn't create any coherent words to scream at him. All she could force from her throat was a vicious growl that she hadn't realized was from her until Booth had pulled her off of the miserable prick and dragged her halfway across the interrogation room.

Booth pressed her against the wall and restrained her hands as two agents burst in and dragged the murderous little shit out into the corridor. Before he disappeared from her view Brennan noticed the blood dripping from his nose and she hoped it hurt like hell. As her breathing calmed, it dawned on her that Booth was saying something, but there was a rushing noise in her head that was blocking out everything except the fact that she wanted to kill that stupid son of a bitch. She wanted to tie him up just like he'd done to those little girls and inflict every kind of torture she could think of on his disgusting body until there was nothing left of him.

It seemed like Booth was talking to her from very far away. She tried to fight through the rushing behind her ears to hear him, but it was a lost cause. He was tugging her now. Down the hall, to the elevator, out the door into the parking garage, and then he sort of shoved her into the passenger seat of the truck. She noticed that he had stopped talking at her somewhere between the third and fourth floors on the elevator ride down.

She tried to step outside of her anger long enough to gauge her partner's emotional state. From the side of her eye she took in his totally calm demeanor and felt the rushing in her head pick back up in its volume and intensity. Her anger was starting to pull away from the prick, who by now was in federal custody, and seemed to be veering toward her partner.

Just who in the hell did he think he was? It wasn't like he had never assaulted a perp before. What right did he have to yank her around and throw her in a car? Where the hell was he even taking her, anyway? She looked up and noticed that they were only a block away from her apartment.

What gave him the right? She'd never said anything about taking a half-day from work. He was treating her like a child being suspended from school. He was probably going to try to send her to her room without supper or something once she got inside. Well, just let him try. She'd beat the hell out of him, too. Yeah, that might make her feel even better. Maybe if she just beat the….shit out of somebody she'd be able to focus and be rational again. All she needed was a release valve, and violence seemed like a damn good bet.

Somewhere in the midst of all her silent fuming and indignation he had wrangled her out of the truck and to the door of her apartment. She decided that it was a good thing for her that this would all take place in the privacy of her apartment, away from witnesses.

Somehow she was in her living room. How did he get through the door? She saw him slip his keys back into his pocket.

"Do you have a key to my apartment?" She was working hard at keeping her voice steady.

"Yeah, Bones, I made one for myself a while back." The ass didn't even have the sense to look apologetic. Oh, just hell.

"Well that's just fine, Booth. Any other gross invasions of my personal space you'd like to own up to? Who the hell do you think you are? I'm not some rag doll you can just drag around whenever the hell you feel like it, you know. I am perfectly capable of conducting an interview with a suspect." She was breathing heavy now. Everything she'd ever been mad at Booth for came screaming back to her and all she wanted to do was yell loud enough to hear herself over the goddamn roaring rushing sound inside her own head.

"You beat the crap out of that guy, Bones! What the hell was I supposed to do?" Oh, so now he was yelling at her. Good, she was ready for a fight.

"I wasn't going to kill him. And don't act as though you're above hitting a suspect. I've seen you in action. You're no saint." Her fingers were twitching. She wanted to grab him and squeeze. Hard.

"Well, you sure fooled the hell out of me. Look, I'm sorry, okay? Let's just try to calm down. Do you want me to make some tea or something?" His voice had lowered and leveled in pitch. She knew this voice. This was the voice he used to get people to lower their weapons or release a hostage. This was the voice he used on people he considered dangerous…or crazy.

Well, fuck that! She wanted a fight. She wanted him to yell at her some more. So she did the only thing she could think of. She lunged three steps across the room, brought her hands up to his chest, and shoved.

He looked shocked when his back crashed into the wall, which she figured was a fair reaction to her irrational behavior. But, she didn't care. She had never felt this much before and she needed it to stop, and she figured the easiest way to make it stop would be to just see it through. Just ride out every second of this red pulsing anger until it used her up and she was too spent to feel anything ever again.

"Temperance, what the hell!" He gathered himself back onto his feet and grabbed her arms, because she was already regrouped and ready to shove him right back into that fucking wall until he fell down. And then maybe she'd kick him or something.

"Don't you try pacifying me like I'm some sort of insane criminal! I'm pissed off, and I have every right to be pissed off! And you should be pissed off, too! That stupid son of a bitch killed those little girls and did terrible things to them! And you held me back against a wall! Let go of me!" That last part came out in a pitch she wasn't aware her voice could reach. She pulled against his hands on her arms, but he had a grip on her that she couldn't break.

"Give it up, Temperance." He tugged her against his chest and locked her in his arms.

"No, goddamn it! Let go of me!" She was struggling to break free of his manacled embrace. When that didn't work, she decided to use his grip on her to his disadvantage. She hooked her leg around his knee and leaned against him, her shoulder connecting with his solar plexus. They tumbled in a heap onto the hardwood floor. She heard him hiss in pain as they collided in various areas. She landed on top of him and his elbow caught her just below the ribs and knocked the wind out of her. Before she could breathe again, he had rolled so that she was underneath him.

"Goddamn it, Bones. Knock it off!" He half-yelled at her as he pinned her to the floor. She tried to wiggle her way out from underneath him, but he was like a fucking dead weight on top of her body.

"No!" She saw his exasperation at her, admittedly, petulant tone. She had managed to break one of her arms free, and she was so mad at fucking everything in the unfair world that she pounded her fist against his chest with as much force as she could gather in the limited space between his chest and the floor. All in all, not that much force, but she felt like maybe it got her point across.

"Oh, will you just give up, already?" He grabbed her liberated wrist and locked it in his hand above her head and his other hand dragged her other wrist above her head as well. Now he was speaking to her as though she were just an annoyance. Which did absolutely nothing to calm her ire, and she jerked under him, again. She knew in her rational mind that it was futile, but her rational mind had been turned off some time ago and instead all she could think was damn it, damn it, damn it!

Suddenly, the thigh that was trapped underneath one of his legs brushed against something that startled her enough to focus on reality. What was that? His phone? No, he had left that in the car. His keys were in his left pocket. So that left….

Oh, well that's just fucking perfect, she thought, fucking men and their fucking hard-ons. Then, her mind took a moment to focus on the reality of him lying on top of her. She felt the press of his big hard body against her softness and the contrast made her shudder. Her breath caught, and suddenly, she thought of another way to power through all her anger.

He must have noticed the sudden shift in her emotional tidal wave because he blinked at her, and his hands loosened an almost imperceptible amount on her wrists. She still couldn't get free, but he had allowed her enough room to lift her head and slam her mouth onto his. All the red-hot rage inside suffused into her skin and drove her headlong into a desperate need for contact.

Hard contact.

Right now.

Booth seemed like he had a few needs in that area as well. All her long-repressed fantasies flooded her mind. All the desires she had squashed because of his fucking "line" swirled through her brain, and her anger once again changed direction. Suddenly, she wanted retribution for every moment of holding back, for every time he said the words 'making love' and never followed through. She was going to have sex with Booth, right here on the damn floor, and he was going to love every minute of it.

His legs were shifting and she took the opportunity to lift hers and wrap her thighs tightly around his hips. Her wrists managed to break free of his hands and she used every ounce of strength left in her to roll them over, so she could be on top. Oh yes, this is my catharsis, and I'm going to drive.

Booth didn't really seem to be fighting her anymore.

She straddled him, grabbed his white button-up shirt in her hands and ripped it open. Buttons scattered across the hardwood. She looked him in the eye then, daring him to complain about the ruined shirt, but he didn't say a word.

"I'm really mad, Booth." He didn't say anything, just kept that level gaze on her, his eyes dark with something she'd never really seen from him before, "I'm just so fucking furious right now."

He decided that it was safe to speak, "I gathered that, Bones." She didn't miss the breathless quality his voice had taken on. She also didn't miss the thick protrusion pressing up against her center through his pants and her skirt. She let go of his shirt then and yanked her own shirt over her head and threw it over her shoulder.

"I think I would probably benefit from the physical and mental release of an orgasm. So, if it's not too much bother, I'm going to use you to get one." As she spoke she began to rock her hips over the top of him, relishing in the friction and the heat. He groaned at her words and slid his hands up her sides to cup her breasts. She threw her head back at the contact, but it wasn't enough and she stretched forward into his hands as she reached behind her to unhook her bra and let the straps slide down her arms. Booth peeled the cups off her breasts, and she wasn't so far gone that she missed the sharp intake of breath as he looked at her naked torso for the first time.

However, she was not in the mood to be simply looked at. She was in the mood to be…fucked. She snatched his hands and pressed them back onto her breasts. Her libido kicked up another notch when he leaned up and took one of her nipples into his mouth. She slid off of his crotch to sit on his thighs and began to work on his ridiculous belt buckle and the fly of his pants. Eventually, she convinced herself to pull her breasts away from his mouth so she could jerk his pants and underwear down and off of him. She also slipped out of her skirt and panties.

As she crawled back up his legs to straddle him again, she said, "I realize that what I'm asking you to do goes sort of above and beyond the bonds of partnership. So, in the interest of being fair, I'm willing to maybe be a little giving. Is there anything you like?"

"You, Bones. I like you." He leaned forward again, and reached for her. Dragging her to sit snugly on his lap. His cock settled between them, poking into her lower stomach.

"Well, that's easy enough. But, I was thinking more about any special technique or methodology you prefer. Anything that really gets your eyes to roll back in your head?" As the words came out of her mouth she began to think of the reality of him big and hard and deep inside her. All she'd need to do is lift up a little bit and slide down onto him and pound herself up and down until she couldn't see.

His eyes were closed, now. Probably because she had started rocking against his hard length and he was pressed against the outside of her warm wet folds. He felt so good, and he wasn't even inside her yet. She shuddered at the thought of him filling her up. And because she couldn't stand it anymore, she rose up on her knees and braced herself over him, hovering atop his tip.

She pushed his shoulders and he lay back, and then she began to descend upon him. Inch by inch he slid inside her, stretching her, filling her up. She thrust herself forcefully down onto him the last inches, drawing moans from both of them. She started jerking against him because he felt so damn good. He gripped her hips and held on as she pulled herself up and pushed herself down on him. She didn't even realize that she was pounding her fists onto his shoulders until he grabbed them with his hands and yanked her down so that her chest was squashed against his.

He rolled them over, and magically, was able to keep them connected. She writhed underneath him. The heat and the friction building with each stroke of him inside her. She curled up enough to sink her teeth into his shoulder. She heard him curse and pound harder into her. Yes!

"Yes, Booth. Harder." Their bodies were becoming slick with sweat from the friction between them. She dug her nails into his shoulder blades and arched up to meet his powerful thrusts. And because she wanted to sink part of herself into his skin, she raked her nails down his back, marking him. He hissed at the less-than-gentle contact and once again, he dragged her arms above her head, and held them there.

No! This new position slowed down his thrusts. She needed the pounding. She needed someone to push into her so hard and fast that all her anger and frustration were forced out of her, and now he was being fucking gentle. Well, she'd take care of that. His chest was close to her face now as he stretched on top of her to restrain her arms. So she arched her neck and scraped her teeth across his nipple.

"Jesus Christ, Bones!" Something resembling a growl burst from his throat, and then he was abruptly in motion above her. He let go of her wrists, but before she had time to take advantage of their liberty he had withdrawn from her and she let out a half whimper-half yell at the abyss he left between her thighs. He grabbed her hips, roughly and flipped her onto her stomach. When she finally realized his intentions, she almost sobbed in relief.

He slid a hand between her hips and the floor and helped her get into position on her hands and knees. It was milliseconds before she felt the perfect pressure of his cock sliding into her again and she pushed her bottom back to meet him. They banged into each other so hard and so deep, she let out a moan at the deliciousness of it all.

She slapped her hands against the floor as he pounded into her from behind, curling her fingers into fists, and then releasing to scratch her nails across the textured wood. She could feel him everywhere, his heat stroking inside her, his hands latched onto her breasts, tweaking her nipples.

The blood in her veins boiled and her skin felt so hot she could hardly stand it. There was tension everywhere as she kept reaching for that perfect pinnacle of mindlessness. She forgot to breathe for a few moments and when she remembered she started sucking oxygen in little gasps. She wasn't sure who was making more noise, and she didn't care. His grunts and groans and muttered curses egged her on to push against him and squeeze her walls around his cock, and he seemed to respond to her noises as well. If she let out an especially enthusiastic cry or moan he'd repeat that particular move several times before he moved inside her or shifted his hands to find another spot to drive her mad and moan again.

All the sudden, he shifted and rocked into that perfect spot, and she screamed, "Oh God!" And came her brains out. She collapsed back down onto the floor and her orgasm must have triggered his, because she felt him throb into her, and then collapse, his chest pressed against her back, his breath puffing out across her shoulder blades. He pulled out of her and she whimpered at the emptiness, and he rolled off of her to the side. They both lay on their backs on the hardwood floor staring up at the ceiling, trying to recover.

"You okay Bones?" He sounded out of breath. Good.

She thought about it for a moment and then said, "Yes."

She leaned up carefully, doing a quick evaluation of any damage she'd incurred. It would only serve her right. She'd been acting like a complete psychopath. Shockingly, there seemed to be very little visible reminders of all their splendor on the hardwood. After all that banging around, she had expected some bruised knees or tender ribs, but she appeared to have made it through mostly unscathed.

"How are you, Booth?" She felt a little embarrassed, not about the sex, but about the fact that she'd said the words fuck and goddamn more in the last hour than she had in her entire life. The sex had been too cell-collapsingly good to feel embarrassed about.

"I'm not sure." He sounded bemused, like he wasn't sure if he should laugh or run away.

"Sorry?" She wasn't sure if she should apologize or run away.

That's when the lights went out.

Now it was Booth's turn to sit up. She couldn't be sure, because they had been plunged into darkness, but she didn't notice any permanent damage on his body. Those scratches and that one little bite mark would probably fade over the next few days. She hoped.

"What happened to the lights?" He was stretching up to look out the window, presumably, to check and see if the building across the street had lost power as well.

"This happens sometimes. Something to do with the breakers, or if I use too many appliances at once. But, since we weren't using any power besides the living room lamp, I'm not entirely sure." She looked around her home in confusion.

"Oh, I don't know Bones. There seemed to be a pretty big surge there at the end." Her eyes had adjusted to the lack of light and she could see him grinning at her now. As far as pillow talk went, it wasn't much. But it was enough to help her remember what it was like before she'd been so pissed off. And she was so grateful and glad that it was Booth sitting naked with her in the middle of her living room floor that she smiled back. It would never be the same as it was before all the emotion boiled over, but it would be new and exciting, and, if they were lucky, maybe a little bit rough.