AN: It's been a while, but I'm back! My daughter was born healthy and perfect. She's a very happy baby!

This time, they were in the woods with Sherman under better circumstances. The revealed poacher, but not murderer, was helping them follow the bear's path. Granted, he was in handcuffs, but still helpful. Brennan was looking for the tree that Hodgins had identified from the particulates as Booth was on the lookout for more bear scat. Stepping in the first pile had put him in a sour mood.

His mood was partially lightened by his view of watching Brennan move through the woods in pants that accentuated her assets. Their conversation last night reminded him of all the thoughts he had been stamping down in the name of professionalism. Talking about that first case, that kiss outside the pool hall, what almost happened afterwards, brought those desires back to the forefront of his mind. From the blush he could swear popped up on Brennan's cheeks as he spoke about it, she still remembered the feelings that accompanied those memories as well.

His distracted mind, and eyes, caused him to step in another pile of bear scat. It helped to sway his thoughts back to the right wavelength and focus on the case. Brennan had given him a picture of the beetle-infested vegetation they were looking for, but she might as well have just drawn a leaf in a green crayon. Every tree and bush looked the same. Even if he could have identified the plant, the satanic circle in the middle of the woods was a give away. Painted rocks were laid out creepily and Bones was twitching her nose in that funky way.

The bodies of Adam Langer and a woman were nearby. The woman was most likely Ann Noyes, and she was missing her heart. After a talk with Dr. Goodman, the stone circle and cannibalism were explained by the perversion of the medicine wheel to harness another's life force. Adam Langer's arm for strength, Ann Noyes's heart for spirit, and the next two were for knowledge and courage. The killer had only completed half of the ritual.

Booth, Brennan, and Sheriff Scutter worked as quickly as possible to examine the new evidence and question suspects. The interviews ran them in circles across town, uncovering several uncommitted relationships involving the veterinarian. Through the drama, the case progressed quickly. A call from Zack and the rush to Dr. Rigby's office lead to a damning scene of him pushing the bodies into the incinerator. Brennan introduced the back of his head to a bed pan, and case closed. Booth was just glad she didn't end up using the gun.

They celebrated a job well done over dinner and drinks. Since there were other entities working on the case as well, the normal load of paperwork was shared with Sheriff Scutter and he was doing the arrest processing. It was a nice change to not have an evening full of recounting and signatures.

"What did Dr. Randall mean by her comment at the bar?"

Booth was caught off guard and had to think back to the moment. The veterinarian had been several drinks in when they found her at the bar. They needed a dental impression to compare to the bite marks the cannibal left on the bones, but she only gave it after a drunken rambling. She spoke of relationships as two people consuming another, and it sounded like a disturbing justification for the cannibalism. Brennan was probably referring to what she said afterwards, when Brennan corrected her use of the word autopsy. "You mean when she said she gets all the guys and you don't?"

Brennan nodded. "Don't men find intelligence attractive in potential mates?"

Booth took another bite of his steak to buy him some time before answering. "Yes," he said, "But, no one wants to feel unintelligent around someone they are attracted to."

Blue eyes rolled. "Does this go back to men having an inferiority complex?"

It was his turn to look annoyed. "No." He tried to think of an example that she would understand. Several instances came to mind, but he didn't want her to feel like he was making fun of her. "You know when I make a pop culture reference, like Mulder and Scully, that you don't understand?" She nodded. "Do you like that feeling of not knowing?"

"Of course not!" She answered quickly. "However, it does present a learning opportunity. If it is important, I can educate myself on the subject."

He knew she would do that. In his mind, he would always picture her laying in bed at night, googling his slang words and film references. Her novels contained a few colloquialisms Booth used frequently, and he liked to give himself the credit for her knowing how to use them. Angela may have taught her a few of the dirty ones, but the others were all him.

"What if it's something that isn't easy for you to learn?" He quickly held up a finger, hovering it over her lips before she could argue. "Like my gut feelings with suspects? Getting someone to confess?"

"I still hold to the position that you read markers related to the nervous system," she said as his brow furrowed, "I will admit that it can make me feel rather secondary to you."

Booth tried as hard as he could not to smile too broadly or look too proud. "Right? Intelligence is sexy, but sometimes you wanna feel smart, too." He shrugged his shoulders a little.

"Like how the science is my field of expertise and you excel with suspects?"

"Just like that. Animals are Dr. Randall's thing, and you correcting her stepped on her toes a bit." Booth watched as he could see her making a physical effort not to rebuttal his words. She succeeded and settled for taking a drink of her beer.

"I will make an attempt to let people feel smart."

Booth finished his beer in several long gulps. He set the empty bottle down and shook his head slowly. "Bones, just try to realize that everyone has something that they're good at. Even if they're not as smart as you."

"Well, I know that," she smiled with understanding, "No one is as smart as I am."

Booth closed his eyes and leaned his head back. Still, he couldn't resist smiling as well. Brennan paid the bill with her non-existent budget and they headed back to the lodge. The whole way there, Brennan managed to come up with something she felt she was better at than Booth. He had to correct her on dancing, marksmanship, and humor. She was the only person who thought that affinities for calculus, debate, and latin demanded bragging rights.

Entering the single room at the lodge no longer had a sense of awkwardness. Booth found himself looking forward to this part of the day, when he got to see Bones without all of her protective shields. She was interesting, captivating in a way that was unexpectedly pleasant. They moved through their nightly routines without conversation. Booth took up his post leaning against a pile of pillows on the headboard. He watched as Bones crossed in front of the TV and crawled onto the bed beside him. She was a few inches closer than the night before, but still not touching.

The commercial playing on the screen was for one of those billboard lawyers with lots of promises and finger pointing. "How much do you wanna bet Dr. Rigby is going to hire some guy like that?"

Bones cocked her head to one side as she thought. "He may actually be able to use an insanity defense. Hiring an overzealous lawyer may help."

"I thought he just had some kind of protein disease?"

"Prion disease." She corrected him quickly and began pulling her hair up into some kind of knot.

"Same difference." Booth grinned as he watched her physically force her mouth closed as to not critique his choice of words. Maybe their talk at dinner had an effect after all.

"A prion disease affects the brain. Was he insane before he ate human flesh, or did eating human flesh make him that way?"

"He's nuts either way, but the jury shouldn't let him use that to get away with it. It's just too creepy." Booth shivered dramatically.

"Being creepy isn't a crime," she said, "But in this case, I agree with you."

Booth smiled. It was nice to have her agree with him, but it didn't last long. They could not agree on a channel. She refused to watch anything animated, saying the word cartoon with extreme distaste. Bones was not interested in anything until they landed on a documentary about deforestation and monkey habitats. Uninterested, he turned off the television.

"I think I'm going to come back up here in December. Charlie suggested several skiing locations," Brennan said as if it was a casual conversation starter.

Booth's fists involuntarily clenched tightly. "Ah. So, it's Charlie."

Brennan tried to jog his memory as if that was the issue at hand. "The overnight guy."

Booth made an affirmative sound and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "I remember who he is."

"I'm sure he's a great skier," Brennan continued on, oblivious to Booth's growing frustration. "His musculature is synonymous with agility and strength."

"That's enough," Booth said with too much anger. He couldn't help himself. He had a right to be angry. Didn't he? She was using this case like a shopping trip, checking out men in the windows. "I'm done." He leaned forward to get off the bed.

She caught his hand. "Done?"

It was hard for him to compose himself. He took a deep breath before answering her. "Yes. Done."

"With what?"

She could be so incredibly dense. Her blue eyes were wide and cloudy with confusion. Brennan wasn't playing dumb, even if she would know how to do that. It simultaneously made him more infuriated at her but harder to be annoyed with her. Her eyes searched his face, bouncing around like pinballs in a machine.

"What do you think, Bones?" She didn't answer him. "Use your fancy scientist skills."

"Done with me?" She looked at her hand, still on top of his. "Done with… us?" Her voice was almost a whisper on the last word.

Booth caught his error. "You know, I guess not. I can't be done with something that never really started." He dragged his hand away from hers and stood. "I need some air."

Brennan watched as he opened the sliding door and walked onto the terrace. She folded her hands together into her lap, easing the wound of him tearing away. It felt like a physical injury though she knew she was unharmed. A few deep breaths helped to tame the sensation. She was always caught up in sensations around Booth. He was her catalyst. The reactions he caused were new and terrifying.

--

Booth woke to the sound of water running. He rubbed his eyes with his palms harshly. A headache loomed over him like a hangover, but he knew he didn't drink enough for it. The weight pressing on his temples was shame and guilt. He was unfair to Bones last night. She made her own choices. In his wave of jealousy, he had forgotten that.

He got dressed for the day while practicing his apology mentally. It would be a long plane ride back to D.C. if he couldn't fix the mess he made. Finally, he heard the blow-dryer turn off. Bones came out of the bathroom and crossed over to her suitcase without looking at him. She wasn't going to make this easy. Booth followed and cleared his throat.

"Look, Bones," he waited for her to lift her head, "I was outta line. Last night… I shouldn't have said what I did. I apologize."

Brennan continued to ignore him, tugging on a tan sweater over her tank top. She carefully pulled her hair into a ponytail.

Booth took a deep breath and tried again. "I'm sorry, Bones. This case has had so many men chasing you like they haven't seen a good looking woman in years. I got overprotective."

"You know I can handle myself," she responded, finally turning towards him. "I think your actions were motivated by jealousy rather than my safety." Brennan crossed her arms over her chest.

Booth tried to wipe the shock off of his face with his hands. Bones didn't usually give much credit to psychology, and here she was trying to explain his actions. "That's… that's not it." He shook his head vehemently.

"I don't really care," she spat, "Just don't do it again." Bones smushed her few remaining items into her suitcase and yanked the zipper.

After swallowing thickly, Booth nodded. "Can I make it up to you with breakfast?" She agreed and Booth finished packing. This was not their first rodeo, sometimes he thought they fought more frequently than they got along. He knew the drill. Cater to her needs, ply her with boring conversation, and she would move past it. At least there were some positives to someone who could compartmentalize her emotions so well.

AN: I'm feeling like the next chapter is going to move us up to the M rating. Any opposed?