Thanks for all the feedback for previous fics! Reviews/Favorites/Alerts are always welcome! The following takes place between the kitchen scene of "The Dwarf in the Dirt." Enjoy!

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Booth looked down at his plate. In Booth's estimation, Gordon Gordon had been absolutely right in reference to the appearance of the "food." It looked like sperm on a plate. Booth chanced a glance at Brennan, somewhat surprised to find a look of disgust on her face, obviously doubting the edibleness of the plate's contents. One more glance at his own plate was enough to make up his mind. "Diner?" he grinned.

"I thought you'd never ask," she replied. "But what about Gordon Gordon? Won't he be offended that we didn't eat…" she looked at her plate then back up at Booth, "…this?"

"Nah, he's Gordon Gordon. He doesn't get offended. Come on, let's get outta here, Bones," he said, standing and offering her his hand.

She pulled the napkin from her lap and tossed it onto the table, intentionally covering her plate in the process, then stood, barely resisting the urge to take Booth's proffered hand.

"Where are you going?" Wyatt called after them as they made their way across the kitchen toward the exit. "You didn't even try it?"

"I'm sure your gigantic sperm is delicious and all…" Booth began.

"It's not really sperm, Booth," Brennan interrupted with a whispering gesture, even though she nearly had to yell over the noise in the kitchen.

"I know that, Bones," Booth replied is the same whispering-yet-yelling mode. "He's the one who said they looked like sperm."

"Ah, but looks can be deceiving, Agent Booth," Wyatt supplied.

"I'll just take your word on it, because I'm not eating that," Booth said, forehead wrinkling adamantly, as he pointed back at the table.

"But in all your time in the Army," Wyatt interjected, "you must've eaten things that looked worse than that."

"Not by choice. I did it out of survival."

"And you, Dr. Brennan. You're an anthropologist. Aren't you even the slightest bit intrigued by it's taste?"

"As a forensic anthropologist, I study bones and customs of a variety of cultures…"

"So you'll try it before Agent Booth whisks you away to the diner you two are so fond of acquainting?" Wyatt asked hopefully.

"How'd he know we're going to the diner?" Brennan whisper-yelled at Booth.

"Simple deduction, really," Wyatt informed them. "We're creatures of habit, and when confronted with the unknown, we tend to seek out that which makes us comfortable. An act of righting the ship, so to speak. The diner represents Agent Booth's and your comfort place."

Booth chuckled. "My comfort place is kicked back on the couch in my sweats, beer in hand, watching the game."

"And yet, you're at the diner with Dr. Brennan more often than you're at home. Tells me that your comfort place is with Dr. Brennan."

Booth quickly glanced at Brennan and cleared his throat. "I didn't know chefs felt the need to share their opinions on the matter," he directed at Wyatt.

"Touché, Agent Booth," Wyatt replied with a hearty chuckle. "Touché."

"Besides," Booth continued, "I'm a burger and fries kind of guy. I need meat and potatoes. Real food. You know, something…"

"American?" Wyatt grinned.

"Exactly!" Booth replied.

"No offense to your dish of…giant sperm," Brennan added, glancing over at Booth. "Was that an appropriate use of the colloquialism? Because I meant that as a joke."

Booth laughed and placed his hand on the small of Brennan's back. "Yeah, Bones. Great job."

Wyatt chuckled too. "Are you sure you don't want to try it, Dr. Brennan?"

"Perhaps another time. Right now, I think I'm in the mood for something…"

"…American?" Booth and Wyatt finished for her, all three sharing a laugh as Booth escorted Brennan from the chef-formerly-known-as-psychiatrist's kitchen.

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Thanks for reading! Should I add a second chapter? Perhaps a conversation between Booth and Brennan?

I sincerely hope no one was offended by the 'American' part. I was referencing a scene from the episode! :D