Title: Surreality (Chapter 5)
Rating: M (for mature – sexual content involved)
Disclaimer: I don't own Bones. Someone with more money and power does. I'm just playing with the characters for fun.
Beta: I would like to especially thank SeattleCSIFan for reading, re-reading, re-re-reading, etc. ad I rewrote this chapter a gazillion times.
Author's Note: If they're a little out of character, I apologize. They're more in character than the first 3 drafts. I hope you enjoy.


She'd called him 'smoking hot'.

"You know, Bones…" Booth said, unsure of what to say. He really didn't want to hurt her feelings, but…

"I know," she responded with a sigh and sly grin. "That didn't sound right, did it?"

"No," he concurred, relief washing through him. Her proposal for testing their physical compatibility had seemed natural (in a weird kind of way). Sure, he might stammer and stutter over comments like that, but it was Bones talking to him. He'd kind of gotten to

like her blunt statements.

"You have to stop listening to Angela," he said, grinning.

"You mean I don't have to act more like a girl?" Bones asked. At his puzzled look, she explained, "Angela told me earlier that I needed to act more like a girl. She might have been talking about my unwillingness to discuss details, but I believe there was more to it. I believe it was for your benefit that she made the suggestion."

Would it be bad if his eyes rolled back in his head? Booth was fairly certain that would happen if Bones were any more feminine. Besides, those sometimes hard edges, cloaked in confusion, often softened his own ragged angles. It made their partnership – their friendship – work.

"Either way, we're getting off track," Bones stated, stepping close enough to force him to look down to see her face. "I think that if we are going to establish a romantic, non-platonic relationship, we should test our physical compatibility."

Yep, she wanted to have sex. Wow did the anticipation show in her eyes. And her lips looked a little fuller, particularly when she licked them.

Boy, oh boy was he confused. And aroused.

What did a man say to something like this? Sure, Bones. Let me jump you because I've been having trouble with this constant hard-on around you, and I hear having an erection for over four hours in a shot is a bad thing. The floor would probably open up, a demonic entity would pop out, and he'd be dragged straight to hell.

He had to say something. Considering, she'd sucked her lower lip between her teeth and was gnawing on it while staring, he'd better make it intelligent; because he hated it when he said something stupid and made uncertainty shadow her face.

"Sex would be good," he blurted, when she stepped back oh-so-slightly. Oh yeah. That was intelligent. Clearing his throat, he voice broke like a fourteen year old boy when he said, "I mean, yeah. We could try testing out our physical compatibility."

Bones nodded, her eyes misting. Well damn it, he'd made her cry. Sometimes he felt like a clumsy oaf. This happened to be one of those times.

Say something, he chastised himself.

"I took a bullet for you," he said, relieved when she frowned at him and stepped forward – just the reaction he was looking for. At least her eyes weren't watering anymore.

"Once. And that only goes so far," she murmured, pressing herself lightly against him.

"I'm kind of confused," he said. "A lot of things confuse me, and this desire to see you…"


"Yeah. That," he said, feeling his cheeks turn pink yet again. "I can honestly say you're a friend. My best friend. I just hadn't…"

"Thought about having mind-blowing, passionate sex?"

Clearing his throat, he mumbled, "Yeah. That."

"Let me help," she stated, tilting her head up and capturing his lips. Oh yeah, there was that spicy flavor he wanted. How can a woman who hates cooked fruit taste like pure woman with a layer of apple pie over the top? Then her tongue swept in and he could barely think at all.

"Come with me," she murmured, taking his hand and leading him down the hall.

Dazedly, he followed her into her bedroom and watched as she peeled off her shirt, followed by shoes and then pants. All very slowly. Not seductively, but carefully – like she approached everything – cloth skimmed over and off of her until she stood before him in panties and a bra.

He only hoped his eyes didn't roll back in his head. Passing out would not make the best impression.

"Booth, you aren't undressing," she said. Well, duh, he was too busy trying not to hyperventilate.

He was drooling again, damn it all.

Wiping his hand across his mouth and feeling a bit like a begging Neanderthal puppy, he slowly approached and waited right in front of her. When he'd started the conversation, this wasn't quite what he'd anticipated, but… he acted before he allowed himself to really think.

Wrapping his hands in her long, auburn hair, he dipped his head and kissed her hard, accepting the invitation of her ready mouth and open lips. It certainly wasn't easy – nothing about her was ever easy. But damn it, she tasted like apple pie.

What man could turn down apple pie?

Then her hands were all over him and his shirt was out of his pants, the tails hanging down as she worked at the buttons. All he could do was gulp hard and pray he didn't look like a gaping fish.

"A little help would be good," she stated, methodically releasing each little disk from its corresponding hole. Then she shrugged and said, "Or I can get this off of you."

Like he had a choice. Sure, he'd voluntarily followed. It was just that his limbs felt frozen in place, and his cheeks were undoubtedly burned a permanent deep red.

Huh. I can still move after all, he thought, as he wriggled his arms and let the shirt fall to the ground.

Her nails raked over his chest while pulling and tugging his undershirt over his head, disorienting him for just a moment. Long enough for her to lay her hand on his belt.

Why is she laughing? He wondered, and then glanced down. Okay, that is kind of funny.

She was tracing the word 'Cocky' on his buckle. Boy oh boy did that alone describe his current condition. Then he groaned when she stroked him through his slacks. He wished she would never stop, but if she continued he'd be done before he ever started.

He'd be fifteen behind the bleachers again, and never hear the end of it.

Grabbing her wrist, he paused her squeezing caress and moaned, "Not yet."

Lord, she really could be cruel. She laughed, deep and throaty.

Shivers of anticipation coursed through him and he unclasped his belt with shaking hands, unzipped his slacks, and dropped them to pool at his feet. Unfortunately, as he kicked his shoes away, everything tangled at his feet, pulling tight.

"Damn it," he grunted before slamming to the ground. That was going to leave a mark.

"Here," she said, extending her hand.

Gaining his feet, he stood there, staring stupidly, feeling naked in only cotton briefs. He probably looked like a poster boy for tidy whities.

The way she studied him should have made him feel like she had when she'd stormed his bathroom the night of his fake funeral. On the one hand, it had surprised him that he hadn't sprang to attention, because… well… she was a woman. Sometimes a man just couldn't help what his anatomy did in the presence of a beautiful woman, even if it was his partner.

His partner who was… gone?

Suddenly realizing he'd been lost in his own world, he twirled around, only to find her sitting on the edge of the bed behind him. How had she gotten all the way over there?

Kicking his shoes and pants out of the way, he sat on the bed next to her and stiffly extended his arm around her shoulders. Clearing his throat in the awkward silence, both of them perched on the very edge of the bed, Booth finally asked, "Uh, Bones, you okay?"

Silence met him and he peeked down at her face, only to find her idly chewing her lip. Apparently, he wasn't the only one nervous about this. The look of confidence on her face had been replaced by one of consternation.

She really spent too much time thinking, he decided and nudged her.

"If you don't want to do this, I understand," he quietly said. After all, he wasn't totally convinced this was the best idea, either.

His gut held him silent. After all the time they'd spent as partners, he'd learned to work on 'Bones Time'; the time it took for her to pull what she felt into words, often enough struggling to find the most appropriate ones. When she shifted to face him, he watched her face.

Crisply, she stated, "You are very important to me. Very."

And there it was. The hardest words for her to say to another human being.

With a sharp nod, he gulped hard, feeling his Adams apple bob. That kind of admission meant more to him than anything else she could've said.

With one arm draped around her shoulders, he used the other to pull her close, until he softly laid his lips over hers. This kiss wasn't fiery, hungry, or full of desire. Instead it was the best kiss of his life.

Memories made up the slow burning heat, and friendship led the exploration as the last scraps of clothing disappeared. Gently, together, they stroked and nibbled, tasting and touching – giving and receiving. Instead of flames licking at the skin, a calm settled down like a warm blanket, stoking coals to a constant burn. Something sustainable.

Slowly they settled back on the bed, running palms and fingers over exposed skin. In the midst, he discovered he loved the feel of her fingers in his hair as he slid down her to taste one beckoning peak. The whimpering gasps spurred him on as he licked and lathed until the nubs had turned hard enough to make her writhe at his mere breath over them.

Then the hand in his hair tugged him up, until he covered her. The same eyes he'd looked into thousands of times before stared into his. The only difference was that this time, the moisture in them wasn't from fear, anger, or hurt, but smoldering passion simmering near the boiling point.

Then came the hunger. As he shifted higher, nudging her entrance with his shaft, her eyes fluttered closed and she arched.

He thought it would kill him – that slow slide into her.

Finally fully sheathed, he held until she opened her eyes and looked into his questioningly. In answer, he kissed her forehead, and then each cheek, feeling her quiver around him. Biting back the groan, he stared again, and said, "So far, would you say the experiment is a success?"

Her gasp made him chuckle; and then moan when she writhed. That spelled the breaking point of his control. Every stroke into the wet heat pushed him higher, as did the feel of her nails against his skin and the rise of her hips to meet his thrusts. Again and again, he sought her mouth, wanting to taste that spicy sweetness, and let it mingle with the musky scent of sex that filled the room.

"So good," he murmured, running his hand between their bodies to caress at the apex of her thighs, fingering the moisture while he licked at her neck. Her gasps turned to moans as he found the sweet nub between their bodies and stroked.

Then her nails bit into his back and she began to gasp short hard breaths as her walls squeezed hard. As she arched and panted, he thrust into her hard repeatedly, until she groaned out his name. Not 'Booth'.

"Seeley," she gasped hard, making something in him flare alive as he pumped into her again and again, feeling her walls spasm.

Every nerve burst like a sun, he saw pure white, and pleasure shook him to his toes… emptying himself into her on a long moan.

Finally dropping down on top of her, he vaguely gave a thought to not smothering her to death and shifted to one side – loathe to break that primal connection between them. It was so good to feel her slick skin against his. Pulling her tight, he felt her breath on his chest – hard and rapid. Matching his own.

With thudding hearts, they held each other, until the hammering slowed, and breathing evened. In the soft glow of the lamp, he finally opened his shuttered eyes and looked into hers.

She studied him again, and he felt his nerves jangle in anxiety. What was she thinking? He didn't have to ask.

Her face was a study of professionalism and she might have well been talking about a chemistry experiment when she proclaimed, "I think the experiment can be declared a success."

"Geez, Bones," Booth muttered, wondering why his cheeks would choose that moment to flush in embarrassment. For crying out loud, going soft or not, he was still sheathed inside of her, skin to skin.

When she grinned, he couldn't help but smile in return.

"I dunno, Bones," he murmured, snuggling close and pulling her to rest atop him. Tilting his head up, he gave her a peck on her lips and admired the sated eyes. "I think maybe we should try it again. You know… make sure we didn't mess it up?"

Her face a study of professional curiosity, she replied, "I concur. Repeatability of an outcome is vital for an experiment to be declared a success."

Bones had everyone fooled, he thought. She had everyone convinced she was terrible with people. If she was so bad, then she wouldn't be looking so damn coy right now. When Booth snorted a laugh, she asked, "What's so funny?"

Grinning, he replied, "Oh, nothing."

She squirmed on top of him. Booth felt himself stiffen inside of her and groaned. Oh yeah… Bones knew exactly what she was doing.

Two hours later, Dr. Temperance Brennan loudly declared a zero-percent failure rate.

The End