Disclaimer: Don't own Bones

I know, "what is she doing starting another story?" you gasp in horror. But unfortunately, gotta go where the inspiration takes you. And for this you can blame Sheytune and her delicious idea. If you haven't read Sheytune's Are you Ready to Fight? go read it now 'cause it's amazing and this is pretty much an M-rated version of that. One fight per letter of the alphabet and BB hotness as they make up. Thank-you so much for letting me steal your brilliant idea and smuttying(is that a word?) it up!!! :)

We've started with a mild M but I expect these will get quite smutty. Hope you enjoy and let me know your suggestions for the next letter, for every single one I will use a reader suggestion cause I just think that's more fun :)


"So, how was your date with Professor Boring?"

"It's Professor Berring, Booth," she corrected. "And it was fine, we had the most fascinating discussion about the endemic birth of dictatorial regimes in third-world countries. He's very knowledgeable on the topic."

"Right," Booth said dejectedly. God, he didn't stand a chance. Dr. Temperance Brennan was so far out of his league, it was ridiculous. She was on the top floor of the ivory tower; he couldn't even walk into the building. "Are you going to see him again?"

"I don't know," she mused. "He's a very well-respected professor, quite brilliant in his discipline really, with a very impressive list of accomplishments. He's been published extensively in the International Journal of Sociology and Anthropology."

"So, that kind of stuff really does it for you, huh?" he couldn't help blurting out, maybe just a tad bitterly.

"What?" She turned to look at him as they walked out of the diner together.

"You know, all that academic, scholarly, I've got-multiple-degrees-you-can't-even-pronounce, and been published every damn where stuff." All right, so he just couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice, sue him.

"It's that what you think about me?" She didn't open the door to get in the car; instead she looked at him with wide, troubled eyes. "You think that's what I care about? Number of degrees and publication rate?"

"What? No … I … no, that's not what I meant," Booth stammered, startled by the accusatory tone to her voice.

"Then what did you mean?" she asked, folding her arms in front of her.

"I don't know, Bones," he huffed in frustration. "I guess I just meant … a lot of these guys you date are … you know …"

"What?" she taunted, irked by his condescending attitude. "Brilliant, accomplished, interesting?"

"No," he snapped, whirling around and losing his cool at her smug voice. "Boring, dull, pompous …" With every word he advanced forward until he was standing in front of her and almost without realizing it, he grabbed her shoulders. " … jackasses, who wouldn't know what to do with a woman like you, even if they had a damn manual."

"But you would know, right?" she whispered silkily, placing her palms on his chest, her entire body heating up as she felt his racing heartbeat. "Is that what you're telling me, Booth?"

"You know I would," he growled, pressing her flush against him, uncaring of the consequences. He just couldn't hold back anymore, the argument had clearly devolved past the point of no return and he couldn't bring himself to care. Because he was finally holding her in his arms and that was all that mattered. "Fuck yeah, Bones," he whispered, running his lips along the curve of her jaw. "I know exactly what to do with you. Do you know what to do with me?"

"What do you think?" She rotated her pelvis against him and Booth ran his hands from her shoulders to grab her hips as he ground her against the side of the car.

"Yes … shit yes, Bones," he panted against her neck. "You know exactly."

"I also know why you are so hard on academia," she told him as she wrapped her arms around him and pressed kisses to his throat.

"Because … because damn, Bones, it reminds me that you are way too good …"

"Stop right there," she interrupted. "Don't say it because it's not true."

"Bones," he whispered, kissing her fervently and forgetting that he was groping his partner against the side of his car in the middle of the day.

"I want you," she finally confessed, pressing herself harder against his erection, she couldn't get close enough. "Booth, you make me feel safe, you make me feel happy."

"I'm a damn idiot," he conceded, running his hands under her blouse and caressing her smooth stomach.

"Higher," she moaned and he groaned, moving his hands up and cupping her breasts.

He fondled her through the bra for a few seconds before snatching his hands back and wrapping his arms around her. "Fuck, fuck, we can't do this here."

"But we are doing this, right?" she clarified.

"Oh, damn right we are," he chuckled, pressing a kiss to her temple. "I'll pick you up after work?"

"Yes, please."

"It's a date, Bones."

Booth smiled ecstatically; he would no longer be asking her how her dates went, because from now on, he would have firsthand knowledge.