Wow, has it really been two months since I posted Bones fic?! I'm glad new episodes are back!
The following takes place immediately after 'The Bones on the Blue Line.' Enjoy!
"Four arms, four legs, and two faces, Booth," Brennan explained again, confirming her statement to Angela earlier about Booth's terrible math skills. "Because humans have two arms, two legs, and one face. Two is half of four, and one is half of two."
"Right," Booth nodded and took another small sip of scotch. "And Zeus split the four-armed, four-legged, two-faced humans in half."
"That's the myth."
"Yeah, 'the myth,'" Booth repeated, swirling the scotch around in his glass. "Did you ever want to believe in what could be, Bones?"
"You mean fantasize?" she asked, her head tilting to the side briefly as she shifted in the chair. "No, my time is valuable, and it's illogical to waste it on thoughts of things that can not be achieved."
Booth grinned at his partner's typical answer and emptied his glass. "So, you've never fantasized about the…activity on page 187?" He smirked and reached for the bottle of scotch.
Brennan groaned and drained her glass, too, pushing it in Booth's direction so he could pour her more as well. "Why is everyone so obsessed with the sex? The books are supposed to be interesting because of the science, but all that's being talked about is Hodgins' move!"
"I'm not trying to pick a fight with you, Bones," he replied, sliding her refilled glass toward her. You were the one who said you wanted to try it. That obviously means you've thought about it." A bewildered and slightly disgusted look settled on his face as her words finally sunk in. "Wait, Hodgins?"
Brennan shrugged. "Angela wrote that part when she and Hodgins were together. Apparently, he's very talented."
"But he…then you said…" Booth shuddered and quickly swallowed more scotch. "How can you even think about doing that if you know Hodgins is the one who…?"
"It's not as though I want Hodgins to try it on me, Booth. Why does it bother you so much that it's based on Angela and Hodgins' sex life?"
Booth shook his head and groaned. "Think about it, Bones!"
Her eyebrows crinkled and she stared at him confused.
"It's Angela and Hodgins' sex life!" Booth exclaimed, realizing that Brennan wasn't going to see the absurdity of the situation. "We really need to stop talking about this," he sighed loudly. He wanted the images of the Hodgins-inspired page 187 out of his head, though he had a feeling those images would haunt him for a long time.
"You brought it up," she pointed out as she brought her glass to her lips.
"And I'm putting it to bed," he said, groaning at his own bad--and unintended--pun.
The comment was lost on Brennan though, and they grew quiet. Booth refilled his glass again but didn't immediately drink it.
"Is that the only reason you read my books, Booth? Because of the sex?" Brennan asked quietly after a few silent moments.
He glanced up at her, surprised she'd even have to ask. "No, Bones, I read your books for the science and forensics, the facts, and because we're friends."
"Friendship isn't a logical reason to do something," Brennan replied. "Would you read my books if we weren't partners?"
"But we are partners, and I read them because you're you and I'm me. Admit it," he grinned, "we make a great team. Forensic anthropologist and FBI agent," he continued, motioning first at Brennan, then at himself, "logical and instinctual, writer and reader," he continued the alternating hand gestures. "Want me to keep going?"
"No," she told him with a minor eye-roll. "Point made."
"Good," he said with a nod before knocking back more scotch. "You know, Bones, I'm really proud of you."
"Because you went to Angela for help. It's good to know that you're letting people in." He smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.
"It was the logical thing to do. Angela's had more imaginative sexual encounters than I have, and she was more than willing to share them. It makes sense that I'd want the best for my books; I'm the best writer for the science and forensics, and Angela's the best with the smut."
Booth nodded slowly.
"Are you sure you're not upset that I asked for Angela's help?" She'd learned a thing or two from Booth, and she was getting better at interpreting his reactions.
"No, Bones," he replied. "Logic has never failed you."
"No, it hasn't, Booth. I can tell you're bothered by something though."
She searched her memory for an explanation of what was causing Booth's reaction. Then she remembered. "You're upset because Angela got to read the book before you."
"No," Booth scoffed.
"Yes, you are!" Brennan fidgeted in her chair.
Booth sighed. "Okay, yeah, a little."
"But I already told you why I went to Angela for help. It wasn't like I could come to you and ask for help with writing the smut. I mean, you can't even talk about sex without getting cantankerous and embarrassed. And Angela's very open about her sex life."
"I wasn't talking about helping out with the sex stuff, Bones. Just the FBI stuff. You know, guns, shooting, going after suspects, interrogations."
"I didn't need help with those parts, Booth."
He did his best to not sound dejected. And failed miserably. "Oh."
She reached over and grasped his hand. "I already knew about those things because of our partnership," she smiled. "I've seen you chase down suspects, I've been with you on numerous interrogations, and I've already shared with you my reaction to your gun usage."
Slowly, a grin--a real one--broke out across Booth's face. "I helped you write it? Really?"
"Really," she nodded. "Your experiences influenced more than what's on page 187."
"Thanks, Bones," Booth continued to grin. "That's one of the nicest things you've said to me."
"But Andy's not you," Brennan said quickly, completely skipping over the fact that they had just complimented each other.
"Of course not," Booth smirked. "Andy sometimes misses."
"Right," Brennan agreed, her hand still clasping Booth's. "And you never miss."
Thanks for reading!