Disclaimer: Don't own Bones.

All right, I couldn't help myself. :)


She could have had someone else undress him.

Brennan was too logical not to realize that anyone else could have snapped on a pair of latex gloves and collected the evidence currently residing on her partner's clothes. But why would she have anyone else do that when that … responsibility clearly belonged to her?

I mean, he was her partner.

"Okay … I have to remove your clothing now," she informed him, particularly pleased with the way the words sounded utterly professional. And of course, they were. There was absolutely nothing personal about undressing him, she was just collecting evidence. Though, admittedly, she had never gone about the task quite so eagerly before.

"Why?" he immediately questioned her.

"Well, there may be particulates," she explained, something in the pitch of his voice telling her that he was completely taken aback. But still, there was no resistance when she slid his jacket off. And it was the most intimate thing she could have imagined. She couldn't be sure why, after all, they were in a practically sterile room and there were harsh fluorescent lights and tiny pieces of flesh in petri dishes, but taking off Booth's jacket made something flutter in her stomach that she couldn't quite define.

The mere thought made her hyper aware of the way he looked sitting there. Waiting for her to undress him. Her movements seemed slower as she put the jacket aside and walked around him to take off his tie.

He asked her a question and she gave him a plausible, logical answer but for the life of her, she couldn't explain why taking off that tie seemed like the most important thing in the world. Her gloved hands loosened the tie almost reverently and as she gently slipped it over his head, she informed him there was evidence on the back of his collar.

After setting the tie next to him, Brennan realized the next logical step would be to remove his shirt. For some reason, her throat felt a little dry.

"Okay …" she said, almost inaudibly and it nearly felt like she needed to steel herself as her hands moved to the buttons on his shirt.

When he told her he could do it himself, she surprised herself with the vehemence with which she stopped him.

"No! Don't!" Her hands immediately captured his. "You'll compromise the evidence," she said, not quite as vehemently.

Button after button gave way under her hands as she invited him to her house for Christmas. She felt strangely shy as she extended the invitation, her eyes moving between her task and his face as she gauged his reaction.

"So …" she asked, pushing his fully unbuttoned shirt past his shoulders and circling around. "Will you come?"

"I … don't … know," he answered, explaining about his plan to go to Quebec and see his son. She was surprised by his willingness to irritate Rebecca when she could so easily retaliate by intruding on his own time with Parker. She verbalized her thought as she pulled off his shirt completely and he agreed that retaliation was a likely possibility.

Brennan discarded his shirt and when she turned around her mind went nearly blank as she looked at his bare back. She wondered dazedly if it could possibly feel as firm and smooth as it looked. My god, he was so incredibly gorgeous. His skin looked so … strokable. For one tiny, reckless second, she imagined placing a soft kiss against his perfect shoulder.

"You have a perfect acromion," she praised, trying to keep the breathlessness out of her voice. She wasn't sure if she'd succeeded because he looked way too pleased with himself.

"Stand up," she ordered briskly, by now realizing that a naked Booth was a dangerous Booth and she had yet to even take off his pants.

"Whoa," Booth was clearly surprised when she knelt in front of him and he asked, "What … what, is there stuff on my pants?"

"Yeah," she explained. "Vascular tissue on your Cocky belt buckle." All right, so she was merely collecting evidence, but it didn't escape Brennan that her position was an extremely suggestive one.

Suggestive? She nearly laughed as she unbuckled his belt. Dear god, but the only time she was ever in this position was when she was giving a man a blowjob.

"Oh right, slides right off," Booth commented in a strange tone. And damn, but he was right, because she slid his belt flawlessly through the loops with near-obscene relish.

"And we're done." He seemed especially eager to get away from her and she couldn't be sure if he was uncomfortable at his state of undress or at the fact that her on her knees in front of him had to be conjuring up the obvious visual.

"No," she answered quickly. "I have to remove your pants." Was this getting to him? But she was pretty sure she had an answer when he started reciting saints. All right, so it was getting to him. But, was it because someone was taking off his pants or because it was her doing it?

Maybe if Cam hadn't interrupted, she wouldn't have been able to stop herself from getting an answer to that question.

Maybe she would have traced her tongue along the exquisitely defined line of his hipbone.

Maybe she would have trailed kisses on his ridiculously perfect abdomen.

Maybe she would have pulled those adorable boxers down and collected all types of delicious evidence with her tongue. Even though she didn't need any evidence to tell her that he would taste so damn good. She just knew.

Maybe, maybe, maybe. The word was nearly haunting when you considered the absolute lack of certainty implied by it.

To hell with maybe, Brennan decided firmly. Clearly not today, but one day she was going to undress Special Agent Seeley Booth and do a lot more with him than collect evidence.

No maybe about it.