A/N: An early announcement for October: Nat'l Breast Cancer Awareness Month. My mom was diagnosed with stage 1 breast cancer in August, and the past few weeks have been consumed with getting her the care she needed. I'm guilty of being lax, possibly because I dread knowing if something is wrong, but please, remember to take care of yourself. Breast cancer treatments are so common place and effective now, there's NO reason to neglect your health.

So, please accept my apologies for lateness, for not replying to reviews, etc. I so much appreciate the time you take to read and respond to my work. This last chapter is *exceptionally* long, but I couldn't make it shorter. This is how I needed to tell their story. As for all other things ever written, this writer would appreciate knowing if her words moved you.



Full Partnership

Booth didn't run, but he did take as long as he possibly could retrieving the files from the back seat. He was having difficulty deciding who he was more pissed off at: Bones, for being sexy and sweet and lovely; or himself, for being an obnoxious horndog. God, I am just so tired of this! She's breaking me down. He slammed the door shut and stood leaning against the truck. Fuck. Now I have to go back upstairs and look at her in that damn robe again. Sitting on the couch with her like we're ready for bed, or across the table from her like we're eating breakfast. My life is shit. Maybe if he just stood there long enough, it would all go away. Or at least maybe his dick would shrink back down to something less painful. He'd been harboring an erection of varying degrees ever since she leaned over him hooking up that damned machine. No, ever since the pizza place. God is making me pay. He stared up at the sky, clutching the files in front of his groin, breathing deeply of the cool night air.

There was also that other problem, besides how his body called out for her even when they were apart. It was that he never wanted to do anything without her any more. Even paperwork was tolerable, no, fun with her. Anything that put him in the same room where he could smell her, look at her, touch her...no matter how terrible something was, being with her made it something worth going through. Despite what he had believed about his son—that nothing could be better than being a dad and basking in his son's love—even that was better with Bones. They felt like a family together, and no, she wasn't like his child or his sister.

His phone rang. Maybe it's a case and I can avoid all this. It wasn't. "Need something, Bones? I'll be back upstairs in just a few minutes."

"I just wanted to make sure you were coming back. I thought maybe you'd decided to leave."

"I'd never leave without saying goodbye to you, Bones," he said, feeling bad that she'd wondered about him. "I'm just enjoying a little air."

"I hoped you wouldn't." She was quiet.

See how she makes me smile? Idiot. "Anything else, Bones?"

"I've got ice cream."

He let out a short, restrained burst of laughter. "In that case, I'll be right up." Why did he cave so easily? Because she was inviting me back, trying to sweeten the deal, because she doesn't know that nothing could be sweeter than she is.

He stayed only a moment more, trying to decide what he was going to do. Booth no longer felt bad about his fantasy that afternoon. Well, not that bad, anyway—he'd still spend a lot of time in the box on Sunday. But he knew that he was in love with Bones, and maybe it was time that he did something about it. He had to. It was time to either go forward or stop, and he didn't think it would be possible to stop. I might as well try to stop breathing. But then, what if it all went wrong? That would be worse. He couldn't lose her, not after everything else.

Back in the elevator, he was still attempting to come up with some sort of plan. Every well-prepared soldier has a plan to follow. He came up with nothing. His brain was a vast, spinning vacuum of nothing. Nothing except the cloud of panic flirting around the edges of his consciousness. Nothing except the wave of fear that threatened just beyond the wall he'd built against it. Nothing except an acute awareness that he was still (and now almost painfully) erect inside his jeans. In the end, it was that primal desire that motivated him out of the elevator and down the hall, where he once again paused to stared at her door. Way to lead with your dick, asshole. And once again, she surprised him by opening the door. Shit, it's like Spidey sense or something.

Brennan had changed out of her robe into the dreaded cute t-shirt and low-slung yoga pants. Booth gave thanks that at least it wasn't her pajamas (he'd accidentally seen those once and had spilled coffee all over her rug). Neither said a word as he walked in, kicked off his shoes and carried the files to her dining table. He realized what his big plan was going to be: chickening out. "I thought we could work over here. You know, so we don't get distracted."

"That's fine, Booth. Do you want ice cream?"

"Do you even have to ask, Bones? Bring it on, baby." He smiled at her as she turned away to the kitchen, her ponytail once again in place, bobbing adorably at the back of her head. Everything is back to normal. See? Didn't even need a plan. Thanks for helping me out, Big Guy. He split the files into three piles, gathered pencils and a couple legal pads from the drawer, then took up his usual spot at the head of the table. He heard a muffled, protracted whoosh from the kitchen. Oh, man! Whipped cream! And in the same second, Fuck! Visions of cushions of whipped cream dotting her breasts, the rush of pure joy when he licked them off—he'd been mistaken; the help he'd requested had not come from above.

Brennan returned carrying two bowls, each with two scoops of some deeply chocolate decadence and mountains of whipped cream on top, but only one had a small piece of fruit on it. "I know these are disgusting, and I can't believe they're really fruit, but I eat them anyway," she said, nodding toward the bowl she offered him.

"What? You can't get more real than ice cream, Bones, unless you have some pie under there."

"No, I mean maraschino cherries." She set the bowls down. "I know you like them too, so you can have this one."

"Why can't we both-"

"Last one. But you sound like you need it more than I do, so you can have it."

His traitorous appendage reared up to mock him. Now she's offering you her cherry! It really couldn't get more like a Porky's movie if they tried. Booth picked up his spoon and scooped up a chocolatey, creamy bite, then slid it into his mouth, closing his eyes against the sweetness of it. She was as sweet, just as...just as... He sat like that for a few seconds, calming himself, but when he opened his eyes, she was looking directly at him. At his mouth. He picked up the cherry and held it toward her.

"It's like ice cream sundaes when we were little, right? Bones, you can have this. This has been such a good night, I don't need anything else."

She smiled, but didn't reach out to grasp it; she leaned forward and took it with her mouth, brushing his fingertips with her lips as she did so.

He saw her leaning in, saw her mouth approaching, but until her lips actually touched him, he didn't believe it would happen. The shock made his tongue hurt and tickle at the same time, like when he and Jared used to trick each other into "testing" batteries for science experiments.

And still, she smiled, slowly, chewing, then laughed and cocked an eyebrow. "Booth, I know you want to know, but you're not asking." She sat down in her chair, more slid, really, with one leg curled beneath her, the other foot swinging gently toward his leg. "I have studied you for a long time, and I can always see when you want to know something."

"Like what?"

"Why I was wearing my robe when you arrived."

This is not fair. I quit, it's NOT FAIR. "No, Bones, I didn't wonder. I figured you'd taken a shower or something."

"No." She dipped a finger in her whipped cream and licked it off, then picking up her spoon. "Not a shower. My hair wasn't wet."

He couldn't picture her in one of those old lady shower caps. "A bath, then."

"Nope." She took a swipe at her ice cream with the spoon.

Spoon to lips.

Tongue to ice cream.

Booth to God: Okay, what am I supposed to do? Come on, give me one of those old-time Biblical signs! "I've got no idea why else you'd put on a bathrobe, Bones. Usually has something to do with bathing." He shoveled in a huge bite, risking a headache in his desperation. "Hey, this is great ice cream. What brand it is, Ben and-"

"We said that partners are honest with each other, right?"

One beat. Two beats. Three. Swallow. "Yeah."

"And that partners help each other."

Get it over with. He sighed. "Yeah."

This time she paused and took a deep breath. She continued to stare at the bowl in front of her, but she sat up straight in her chair, the faded blue of her t-shirt showing little shadows where her nipples popped out Shit. "When you arrived today, I wearing my robe because I was planning on thanking you for helping me."

Run. "Helping you with what, Bones?" Stupid stupid stupid! His brain was spinning again, and at her last words, his dick had swollen to painful proportions inside his jeans. Oh, God, I'm not ready, I'm not ready...

Finally, she looked at him. Not his ice cream or his lips, but into his eyes, into what he believed was his soul. She looked at him, and a tiny, gentle, hopeful little smile played at her lips. "You helped me work through some frustration, Booth. I was pretty sure you were aware of that."

Booth wondered if there was any possible way that this could not be happening. He remembered being on his sofa at home, and he had been really, really tired after that torrential orgasm (which had also been her fault), so maybe he'd just fallen asleep? Maybe he'd fallen asleep, and this was...He almost snorted with laughter at himself. Seriously, who was he kidding? He'd have no such luck.

"Come on, Booth," her voice was low, like she was telling him a secret, but one she hoped that he already knew. "Be my partner. Help me out. I'm trying to talk to you, but it's difficult for me to bring this up without...without scaring you."

Be her partner. Be what she needs. "Sure, Temperance." She depends on me, and I can't let her down."Sorry. What you're saying is important to me."

She sighed with relief, and with her smile, relief washed over him, too, and absolved him. "Yes, like that. You're so good at knowing how to make me feel better about my communication skills." She swirled her ice cream in the bowl, around and around. "As I was saying, since you helped me this afternoon, I want to return the favor."

And just as quickly as it had arrived, his relief was gone; he clenched everything. Shit, what does that mean? "Uh...I didn't realize I needed help, Bones." He was absolutely the deer in her headlights.

"I want to tell you why I was wearing my robe." Brennan stood up and held out her hand to him. "Come sit with me on the couch?"

He tried. "Aw, Bones, my ice cream will melt." But he really had no choice. Her eyes and smiling lips were compelling, and he followed. She led him to a place on the end, then lifted his feet up, guiding him to turn sideways and partially recline. "There." She sat beside him on the edge of the cushion. "When you called me today, Booth, do you know what I was doing?"

His eyes closed and a prayer screamed forth from his mind. He could play dumb. To do anything else would be dumb. Breathe deep, hold steady, eye on the target. Dumb he could definitely do. On the other hand...she was right: he did know what she was doing. He could be honest. He could go forward, they could go forward. They could evolve, because, as she would tell him, that which does not evolve becomes extinct. He could not bear the idea that his feelings for her would go away. Breathe deep.

"I know, Bones."

Her pupils grew huge and her neck flushed. "Do you know why I was wearing my bathrobe?"

"Not really."

"You want to know, though, correct?" He nodded as though accepting a verdict. A single finger of her slender hand trailed up his forearm, causing his entire flesh to tingle and rise. "I was wearing my bathrobe because, after my tremendous orgasm, I was too tired to get dressed. I knew you'd arrive any moment, but I just lay on the bed, thinking of you."

His pulse raced, his jaw tightened, but he answered. The words almost choked him. "It was good." Was he even still breathing? "You sounded good." He couldn't manage to say anything more.

"I came so hard, Booth...Seeley, that I couldn't move for several minutes. I had needed it so badly."

He saw an opening, a last chance for reprieve. "So you're better now? That's good, right? Really good. So we can work."

"But I haven't helped you yet, Seeley."

He tried again to deny it, but instead, entirely different words spilled out, "How do I need to be helped, Temperance?" Why do I let my dick ask questions?

"We're both lonely, Booth. We're best friends, which means we love each other, but...we love each other in ways besides friendship, too."

He held his breath. "Yeah."

"So you'll admit to that."

It will hurt! Don't make me. "Yes."

She bit her bottom lip, held it, then wet them both, trying to get the question worded just right. "So why won't you touch me?"

"But I touch you all the time!" he gasped. "I can hardly keep my hands off of you!"

"But you don't touch me like I want you to touch me, or even the way you want to touch me. The way I imagined this afternoon." Her fingers trailed lightly over his arm, belying the effort this was costing both of them. "You don't touch me honestly, Booth."

Now he'd really screwed it up. He had planned to say something earlier but talked himself out of it, only to have her decide to take point and drive. Oh, Jesus, this hurts in so many ways. I am such a wuss. Suddenly, another voice in his mind yelled out, Man up, Booth! How many signs do I have to send?

Huh?

The voice was right. He'd asked for a sign. What more did he need? A notarized letter? A lightning bolt? A special "Song of Seeley" book about all the ways he loved Temperance? Book? Wait. He already had a book about how Temperance loved him. "Your book."

One eyebrow raised as her mouth quirked into a more amused version of her shy smile. "Yes?"

"I was reading it today."

"I know. You told me."

"There was one part I couldn't read."

"Why was that?"

She had to know already, she did know, he was sure of it. "Well, uh, actually, I started reading it, but then had to stop, because it was making me..." Could he really say the words? He shrugged and flushed with desire thinking what it would do to her, for her, for him to say it. He needed to be honest. "I had to stop reading it because I was thinking of you. Stroking myself...and I had to come."

Brennan didn't say anything, just waited for him to go on. Her fingers still stroked his arm, but her other hand clutched at the hem of her t-shirt, and her hips raised slightly, thighs squeezed together.

He did go on. "I tried so hard not to think of you, but everywhere I turned today, you were there. Even on my run, that damn publicity photo of you..." He sighed yet again. "I give up. I can't fight it any more."

"You make it sound like you lost, like it's such a hardship."

"Walking around with a permanently swollen cock is a hardship. And no puns, Bones."

She couldn't help the smirk, but rather than joke about his erection, her hand moved slowly from his arm down to the fly of his jeans. A well-worn button fly. She slipped the first button, then the second. "And finally, we get to the part where I can help you." She slid down on her knees. The third button, the fourth, the last...

"Oh, my." She breathed in deeply, smelling the musk of his undeniable arousal. "Oh, my. This is very nice."

Shit. "Nice?" What did she mean, "nice"? "Way to help me out there, Bones." He couldn't joke his way out of this: she had him pinned on the sofa like a bug she'd chosen to examine.

"No, I meant, it's nice when dreams are true." He groaned. With both hands now, she stroked up his thighs to his cock, running her palm along the hot, delicate, baby-soft skin over the steel of it. "You're large and lovely, Booth. Delicious, in fact." She lowered her lips to his head and rubbed them gently along the ridge of his glans, breathing across him.

He fought the urge to push into her mouth. He was surprised that he succeeded in restraining himself to only one tiny thrust toward her glistening lips. Breathe deep, hold steady, stay on target. "Bones, what are we doing? I need to know." His voice was pained with the exertion of speaking and of holding back.

Whether she was trying to spare him embarrassment, or she couldn't tear away from the feeling of him against her skin, it didn't matter, but she kept her mouth whisper close to him while she answered. "I'm going to lick and suck you until you come in my mouth, Seeley. And while I'm doing it, you're going to tell me what you thought about this afternoon when you masturbated." She started to slide her lips over him, around him—

"Wait!" His hand shot forward to cup the back of her head, his fingers buried in her hair, just barely pulling her away, buying a moment.

She looked up, her pupils hugely dilated in her deep blue-grey eyes.

"Bones, what does that mean?" If he wasn't in such agony, it would seem hilarious that he would be the one to utter those words. "What do you want from me? Where is this going?"

In her everyday, matter-of-fact, lab-explanation tone, she replied, "It means that I think we should be real partners, Seeley, in every contemporary way people in our society are, with all the benefits attached to such partnerships. I thought about it, and I decided that I want you all for myself." Lowering her face again, she sucked his beautiful cock into her mouth.

And there it was. Full blown, unstoppable, earth-rending arousal, just because she'd gone all specific and Bones-y on him (and was sucking his penis, too, of course).. Fuck fuck fuck. Except this time...slowly he realized, this time he actually could fuck-fuck-fuck. The door was not only open, she'd reached out and was pulling him in by his, well, you know. "And...and you want me to tell you, Temperance?" His voice was raw, gravelly, barely audible. "I don't know if I can. It was..."

She nodded, her mouth still full, and the pulling caused by the nod almost made him explode. "Oh, God, please, Bones, don't end me like this. I can't—oh, God..." She sucked him in as deeply as she could, pulled back just a little, then wrapped her hand around the wet base of his erection. Booth's eyes began to close, but he couldn't let himself lose sight of the woman in front of him, loving him, giving of herself and taking from him. After a minute of silence, she figured out that he wasn't capable of saying anything more, so she slowly withdrew completely, his cock now red and slick and quivering.

Brennan looked at his face, a mixture of masculine beauty and exquisite agony. "You have to talk to me, Seeley. You not only heard me this afternoon, your voice was the catalyst I needed for completion." She made a moue of displeasure. "And partners share. It's your turn."

For Booth, good, polite, Catholic man that he was, it was nearly an impossible choice: tell her all the dirty things he'd thought about doing to her this afternoon, or lose the lips of his Bones delivering the blowjob of a lifetime. But he'd had a sign, hadn't he? A big flashing sign that said, "Yoo-hoo! Seeley! Take her, already!"

It was resolution time. Hold steady. Keep your eye on the target. His target was not just to get Bones, but to keep Bones, forever if at all possible. If that required saying every dirty, sloppy, sexy thing he'd ever dreamed about doing to her (while allowing her to suck his cock), well, he would just have to man-up and do it.

He began trying to explain, and as he spoke, her hands and mouth went to work. "I wasn't even going to read it today. Mmmmmmm. I was just, uhh, enjoying a guy kinda day. Oh, God, Bones, please..." He stopped talking, just kept his eyes closed and whimpered a little. Her mouth froze, but her hands continued to massage the base of his cock and his balls, both slick with her saliva. Fuck, I'm going to shoot all over without even getting inside her. Just like fucking high school.

"Booth, you have to tell me so I know better what to do. I want to be able to...make it exceptional for you."

He whimpered again. He tensed his thighs and actually bounced in his seat a little, like a child being denied candy. "Bones, don't you understand that you doing anything makes it exceptional?" I thought she was a genius! "God, that's part of the problem!"

She snickered just a little. "Yes, I know. But won't it be fun to see if we can work through this problem? That's something partners do, right?" Half speaking to herself, she then muttered, "Hmm, we should probably establish a baseline if we're going to experiment..."

He was appalled. "Yeah, sure, Bones—this has 'partners' written all over it. Sweets would love it."

"I'm finding that this is a great team-building exercise."

"What, while one partner talks about how they get off, the other performs oral sex on her?"

"On her, huh?" Brennan's expression didn't quite conceal her eager anticipation of the moment.

"Hell, yes. Don't think I'm not claiming my half when we're done."

"We'll discuss that when the time comes. But that will be only after you do."

He groaned again.

She grinned. "See that? Notice how I made that witty little play with come, Booth?"

"Shut up, Bones." He curled his fingers through her hair and pulled her face close to his. "You want smut, I'll do my best to give it to you." He leaned down and bit her lower lip, at the same time surprising her by grasping a nipple and pinching, tugging. "But I can't guarantee how long I'll last."

He leaned back and attempted to gather himself for a hell of a battle. "Once upon a time, Seeley Booth had time to kill...: Breathe deep. Stay on target. "It was such a beautiful day, and I had a great run, but that afternoon I was gonna just hang out and watch football. Later, of course, I hoped to call you and meet up, pretend to do some work, but mostly just to see you." If I can get her as hot as I am...maybe I can make it last...or break her. He released her nipple.

"De uddah un," she ordered, her mouth still full of him.

I love it. I'll do anything you want. He did.

"All day, you kept popping into my mind, like you were everywhere. I saw your picture at a book store, and your eyes—I love your eyes, Bones." Loved her nipples, her lips, her tongue, her hips, her everything. "After my run, I took a shower." He stopped. The only sound was the soft, wet sound of her lips on his cock. He took a deep breath, "Ahhhhh," spread his knees wider, threaded his fingers deeper into her hair, "the shower felt so good, Bones. Wet, hot, pounding my muscles, releasing all that good tension from my workout." She loosed a satisfied groan all around him, and he felt the vibrations in his toes. He couldn't help it; he raised his hips, pressing deep against the back of her throat. "Oh, God, Bones, I can't—I won 't last—please..."

With a look of consternation, she released him and sat back on her heels. Her lips were wet and swollen. If I kissed her now, her mouth would taste like my cock. Oh, God... "You're begging for mercy already, Booth?"

"Yes...I don't know." What do I do? What do I do? "Should I beg for mercy?"

"You don't want mercy, Seeley," those swollen lips purred. "You want me to get it out of you."

"Yes." Of course. "I'll do whatever you want, but you can't make me—it's too much, Bones."

"I will make it easier." She stood up and planted herself on the coffee table, directly in front of him. She gently guided his feet back to the floor, his knees apart, with her legs spread to block his open. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize how hard I was making it. You're so delicious..." Oh, God... She smiled, licking her lips. He was completely exposed in front of her, and she was enjoying it. "Please, continue."

Breathe deep. He laid his head back and stared at the ceiling. "So, uh...after the shower, I went in the living room to watch football." He paused to laugh, "I was being all cave-man like, wrapped in just my towel, beer in hand—and don't say it, Bones."

"What?"

"That cavemen didn't have beer."

"Booth, I'm focused on how beautiful you must have looked, and on hearing about your masturbation technique. I'm filing away your beer fallacy for later."

Was she kidding? Maybe. "Anyway, there was no football, and there was no anything else worth watching. And I saw your book on the table."

"That's pretty insulting, Seeley. Nothing on TV, might as well read my book? You might need to be punished for that."

His head shot forward, eyes open in alarm. "No, no, no..." he laughed again, trying to pull his knees together.

"Hmm. We'll see. If you continue, perhaps I'll reconsider."

How was it so easy to tease and make love with her? Why had he thought this would be difficult? "Yes, ma'am." He gasped as she puckered her lips and blew a cooling breath across his cock. "Ah! Stop!"

"Just keep to the facts, Booth."

Still smiling, he leaned back and closed his eyes again. Give her a good story. "The cover of your new book is kind of sexy, Bones. And then I looked at the picture of you at the back, and, well, you're sexy, too. I can't see your eyes as well as in the big poster, but your hair...I really love your hair. It's so soft and smells so good..." He could almost hear how much the compliment meant to her just by the sound of her breath. "When I opened to the title page, I saw what you wrote, and that was...that was probably too much for me, after thinking about how pretty you are. I mean, your words were so simple, but you meant them, I know, and..." He stopped again, then went ahead and risked it, but spoke softly. "It made me feel loved."

He kept his eyes closed to make it easier for her, to let her react however she wanted to without the extra weight of his gaze on her. But he was dying to know if he'd said too much. It took so long for her to speak, he was afraid she was preparing for retreat.

"You are."

The tension washed from his face and shoulders. He was loved. Ha! I was right! "I actually just touched and stared at the words for a little while. I could imagine you sitting at your desk, thinking and thinking, trying to get the words just right, then—well, what came out was so simple, but you knew it would mean the most to me."

"Yes."

"And I was so happy. Then I was jazzed to get to the story. I was lying on the couch, still wrapped in my towel, beer near at hand, and man, Bones, those first few chapters really flew. You're so talented, it just floors me."

"Hmph." He peeked out to see the twisted smirk on her face. "So talented that I'm a good read when there's nothing on TV."

He laughed again. "Exactly! So, I read the first chapters quickly. Then I got to chapter 12." His breathing grew slightly more labored while his hips rocked a little. Go ahead. She wants to see. He allowed his hand to drift to his dick, which was again reaching full arousal. "I was really annoyed that you would write something like that, Bones."

"Like what?" She knew exactly what he meant.

"So graphically sexual, so hot and...raw." His thumb stroked his cock. It was difficult keeping on task, talking about the orgasm that was, because with her in front of him, much of his mind was on the orgasms yet to be. "I was embarrassed. When I looked down; I'd spread my legs and I was pulling on myself, all because your words were so raw." Hold steady. Stay on target. "I so wanted to fuck you, but I couldn't even say it to myself."

She leaned forward to whisper, "I promise you can say it to me later, Booth."

"I plan to." He'd say and do, and he'd never finish with either. "So...I was by myself, and I thought, heck, I'd just go ahead and take care of it."

"You know me, Seeley; I need specifics."

He really should have known there was no escape. "I though I would just go ahead and masturbate, because that's a normal guy thing to do when you're all alone and lying around on the sofa."

"So you do it all the time?"

"Well no, not all the time. Sheesh, Bones, I'm not a sex maniac."

"What an archaic term."

He pushed on, "So I found a movie on TV that's has some sexy scenes in it. I got some lotion out and wrapped my hand—"

"From where?"

"Huh?"

"From where did you get the lotion?"

"God, Bones, from the drawer on the coffee table!"

"Is it a special lubricant?"

"It's just regular hand lotion! Vaseline or something. I don't want Parker finding any sex lotion at my house—"

"So you just keep a bottle of lotion there for..."

"For jerking off, Bones. Because my hand is good, but a my hand all slippery and squishy-sounding is better, okay? Are you satisfied?"

She squirmed and pressed her hand between her thighs. "Mmm, yes, very—for the moment. But I will probably want to see it. I enjoy collecting complete data. Wait just a second." She reached under the end table and pulled out a small basket that contained manicure items. "What scent do you prefer?"

"Are you kidding me?"

"Of course not."

Of course not. "Is there one that just smells like you?"

"Booth, they all smell like me, since at one time or another I've used each of them. But here's my favorite: an all-natural almond honey lotion."

"Honey?"

"Yes, it tastes kind of good, too. Just in case." She dispensed a drop on the back of her hand, rubbed it in, then placed it under his nose.

"Oh...yeah, that's it. That one is good." She held his hand up and squirted two full pumps into his palm. His eyes flew open.

"That's too much, Bones. I'll get it all over—"

"First, do you really think the lotion is going to make this biggest mess this afternoon? And second, I want your simulation conditions to be as close to reality as possible."

"This is still way too much—"

"No, it's not." Her meaning seeped through to him. Oh, God. His hand tightened around his penis again, and his groan was firmament-shaking. "Yes, Seeley, I am really that lubricated at the thought of watching you masturbate. But you have to slow down so that we can both adequately enjoy your story."

Booth had already closed his eyes again, both to keep from looking at her and to bring back his fantasy from that afternoon. He would get through this, even if it almost killed him, because there was treasure to be had at the end of this trial. He adjusted his grip and resumed his tale. "So after I had the lotion, I watched a scene from the movie. The girl is an exotic dancer. She came out wearing almost nothing except these sparkly blue panties and things pasted over her nipples."

"Like at the strip club?"

"Yeah. But she's on stage." He kept his eyes closed and stroked himself, trying to focus on the movie instead of his Bones sprawled open in front of him. "The girl reaches her tongue down toward her own nipples and squeezes her breasts together."

"Like this?"

His eyes flew open. Brennan had peeled off her t-shirt to expose the ivory lace bra. She'd cupped her hands under her breasts and squeezed them together, and they looked oh-so-much better than the girl in the movie. Hers were real, soft, luscious, not the plastic movie versions. "Oh, God, Bones. How..." He couldn't go on.

"This is the bra I put on this afternoon when I needed extra stimulation. Tell me what she was doing, and I'll do it."

"Uhhhhhh. Bones, I can't—" but he never loosened his grip.

"Yes, you can, Seeley. We'll both enjoy it if you do. What did she do next?"

He sighed. He did want it, but he wanted it so much, and why did she have to play this game? "She thrust her hips up. She was sitting on a chair with her legs spread...just as you're already doing. And she thrust her pelvis up so that...ooooohh...there was just this little strip of material between her legs, and you could see the outline of her...and then..." He stopped speaking, but he didn't stop pushing his cock up into his slick fist. He felt Brennan move her legs, heard her removing the yoga pants, but he couldn't look.

"Booth, tell me what she did." He felt her legs return to their position, holding his spread apart.

"But I couldn't come to her! I mean...well, she changed into you, and it scared me, so..."

"Is this how I looked in your fantasy, Seeley?" He cracked open one eye and saw the skimpy, tight ivory lace panties stretched over her, see-through with moisture. She rhythmically thrust her hips toward him, then, when she saw him look, slid two fingers inside and into herself.

His head fell back, eyes screwed shut tight, and his mouth wide open with a pained groan. "Better. This is better." His breathing, already labored, became harsh and ragged. He continued to pump hard. "I didn't imagine your fingers, Bones."

"Can you smell me?"

"Yes, oh, God, I want to taste you, please..."

She leaned forward and placed two wet fingertips in his mouth. Booth greedily sucked them in, thrusting faster into his fist at the same time. He could smell her, taste her, practically feel her riding his cock. "Booth, you said you couldn't come to that image. What else did you need?"

"Please, please, just let me come now. You taste so good, Bones. Please, just let me taste you and come..."

Instead of release, he felt her damp hand close around his wrist and pull it away from his throbbing dick. His teeth ground together and a growl like nothing she'd heard before came from deep inside him. "Booth, open your eyes."

He had to. She had complete power over him right now, and all he wanted to do was make her happy so she would finally let him come. When he looked at her, she had stopped thrusting her wet crotch toward him, but she still sat with her legs spread and that damned bra stretched too tightly over her nipples. Through clenched teeth, he asked again, "What do you want from me, Temperance?"

"This is how frustrated I felt today, except I couldn't climax. Tell me what else you had to do to climax, Booth."

"If you do it, Temperance, I'll die before I come. You can't do it."

She smiled. "Don't be absurd. No one has ever died because they weren't allowed to orgasm." She released his wrist and put both hands back on her breasts. "Tell me."

"Fine...I was angry, because there you were again. It wasn't fair—you just kept pushing all these other women out. I used to be satisfied imagining other women. But...I went back to a film I saw in college, a scene that always gets me off." He was thrusting again, lighter, though, trying to make himself slow down and really imagine the film. He wouldn't look at her, no matter what, because he couldn't last if he did.

Then she had the nerve to speak—she knew her voice would make it so much harder. She was torturing him on purpose. "It's common for people to go back to images that imprinted on us early in our sexual lives. I can only surmise that this didn't happen until college for you because of your restrictive religious upbringing."

Anger and sarcasm radiated from his voice. "Because I was a Puritan, yes, thanks, Bones. But if Puritans fucked like I did, there would have been a lot more of them." The image was in his mind—the average-looking guy fucking that average-looking woman's beautiful breasts. His eyes were still closed, but she was watching him without blinking. She was completely mesmerized.

"Tell me."

"This man and woman, maybe a little older than we are now, they're on the floor. She's leaning back on ottoman-thingy, and he's on his knees. Her breasts..." Breathe deep. "Her breasts are real, round, soft, delicious looking. And she's holding them together tight." He knew she was doing the same thing—he heard her take off the bra, and her breathing was more shallow, quicker. "He's fucking between her tits, and she's reaching down to lick the head of his cock every time he thrusts forward. Oh, God, she gets him so wet, he's just fucking and sliding between her tits, and she's moaning like she's going to come just from the feel and taste of his cock. Her breast, though—they are so beautiful...but it's not enough."

"I need more."

"Fuck, Bones, I need more."

"Is this the last part? The part that finally let you orgasm?"

"Fuck, yeah, but smelling you, I could come now."

"Booth, tell me what to do, and we can do it together, the last thing."

Oh, God. He almost passed out hearing her. There was no blood left in his brain to know whether he answered, but he prayed he had said yes. "Get on your knees."

Brennan scrambled over the coffee table, still in her panties but breasts free. He finally opened his eyes and saw her kneeling. He pulled off his jeans and shorts, then dropped to his knees facing her. "I have to..." His mouth went to her nipples, sucking and groaning; she felt like he was trying to reach all the way down into her cunt through her breasts. And he wasn't completely failing.

"Booth, tell me."

Her panties were still on, and the way she was rotating and thrusting her hips, he figured they must have been pulling pretty nicely over her clit. No no, Bones. He slipped one finger into the tight lace. "Get these off, or I'll tear them off." She did, double quick. He sucked and licked her breasts for a few more seconds, then growled against her, "Hands and knees. Stretch your arms way out, shoulders down." He didn't take the time for her to get fully into position, just thrust his face into her pussy from behind, licking, drinking her in. She wasn't expecting it, and her arms almost collapsed. She moaned deep, loud. It was a good thing she was spread so far forward, or she would have fallen. His tongue probed inside her labia, then his fingers spread her wide and he moved to her clitoris. So swollen and hot, so red. He flicked her clit with his tongue, trying to break her, but she held on. He inserted two fingers, fucking her, while his mouth hovered, licking, then sucking, finally nipping at her. Brennan was almost screaming at this point, dripping all down his hand, but he couldn't stay away from the taste of her. He pulled out his fingers and thrust in his tongue again, lapping her, sucking her juices, rubbing her labia raw with the stubble on his chin.

"Please, Booth! What next? Please!"

"Then you beg me to fuck you, Bones."

"Oh, god, please, Seeley, fuck me! Please, please, let me come on your cock, please."

He barely paused between pulling back his mouth and sliding in his cock. He had swollen larger than he ever remembered before—painfully, almost purple with pent-up blood. He had to go slow. He had to, or he wouldn't get two strokes off. But as soon as she felt his glans at her opening, she thrust back on him, and they both screamed. She pumped again, but he grabbed her hips and froze them both. He could hardly speak. "Bones, I am begging for mercy now. God, please, slow down."

"Booth, I need you to fuck me. I can't wait."

"Temperance, honey," he whimpered, "please..."

"When the woman in your fantasy begged, did you give it to her?"

Oh, yes. "Yes."

"Don't you want me more than her?"

"Fuck, yes, Temperance."

"Then fuck me like you're trying to split me in half, Seeley. Fuck me so hard I see stars."

He couldn't hold it. He thrust in deep, deeper than he meant to, but it felt so good. "Fuck me so hard I can taste your come in my mouth." Oh, God, what was she saying? "Think about coming on my tongue, Seeley." He was pounding her now, and she was thrusting back into each of his strokes. Her breath was coming so hard she could barely get the words out. "Think about my orgasm around your cock, oh god, so hard. You're going to shoot so deeply inside of me, I'll taste it. My mouth is open, Booth. Let me taste it. Oh, god, fuck me..."

He was grunting, fucking her harder than he'd ever before in his life, but he still managed to reach around, find her clit with his middle finger, rub into her hard—

"Ahhh! Ahhh! Ahhh!" She spasmed, contracting around him, shook below him. "Oh god, oh, god, oh god, yes, oh, Booth, Booth, ahhh, ahhh," she whimpered unintelligibly, then thrust her ass back toward him one more time.

The sound from Booth's throat could only be called a roar. He came inside her so hard he was sure he had, as she asked, shot all the way to her tongue. Still he thrust and thrust, but his motions decreased as they both slowly came down. He folded over her back, kissed her, stroked her side. "Temperance. Temperance. Oh, God." He lay there, panting.

She collapsed fully on the floor, and he followed, trying to stay inside her but failing. Slowly their breathing returned to something close to normal, but still, neither of them spoke. She lay on her stomach, he on his side, his hand lolling on her back, unable to move but unwilling to leave her body. He lost himself in the smell of her skin and their mingled sex. Finally, he asked, "So this is how you help me, Temperance? Try to give me a heart attack?"

A pitiful little laugh rose from beneath her. "Your heart is in excellent condition, Booth, much like the rest of you." She groaned and rolled herself over to face him. "I would never have done anything to endanger our goal's ultimate achievement."

He snorted out an answering chuckle. "Good to know, Bones. Glad one of us was in control there." Exhausted though he was, he couldn't keep his hands away from her. Oh, God, thank you for her. "So, now will you tell me?"

"What?"

"You made such a big deal about the robe, but then you changed out of it."

"Yes."

He waited. "That's it? Just 'yes'? No explanation?"

The lazy smile on her face widened and she stretched, rolling toward him, her breasts arching against his chest. "I...well, I changed my mind, in a way."

"I wildly approve your way of chickening out."

"No, not that. In a way, but...no, not like that. I thought..." one hand settled on his shoulder, the other drew slow, ticklish lines on his abdomen. "I thought you might leave. And I knew I would come after you. I didn't want to drive in my bathrobe."

Booth's chest shook with barely contained laughter imagining Bones, eyes flashing and belt flying behind her, jumping into her little car and flying through the streets after him. He was flattered, no doubt, and it would have been so fun to unwrap her in his own apartment. "Hell, Bones, if you'd done that, we could gotten here much sooner." He was feeling better by the second and now had enough energy to fondle the breast that had been begging his attention for some while.

"Mmmmmm, yes, but Booth, it's not the time of arrival that matters; it's the quality of the journey." Her fingers swept lower on her next trailing loop of his stomach.

"Where did you get that idea? That's way too metaphorical for you."

She smiled a slow, wide post-coital smile at him. "You cracked the seal on my inner poet." Brennan slid her hand down to stroke him and aid his recovery.

He snickered, thinking about the seal he had cracked. "Great, now you're going to use words I barely understand in verse. Perfect." He brushed his thumb over the poet's now-erect nipple.

A lovely, low moan erupted from deep in her chest. "Shut up and kiss me, Seeley. We're only half done with our journey."

"Wha—oh, yeah, my half. But you're wrong." He so loved telling her she was wrong.

Her eyebrow arched and her smile turned a touch condescending. "Am I? How is that."

"About the journey being half over. I'm never getting off this train."

Turns out, that was fine with her.