This is another one that was posted over at LiveJournal for a while, and I've been meaning to get it over here and just somehow never got to it - so, my apologies if you've already read it. For those looking for an Apprentice on the Island update... I pinkie swear that you will have three new chaps tomorrow. Pinkie swear, people. That's serious. Also: If you haven't subscribed to my new, free multi-fandom fanfic e-zine spectacular, you should absolutely do it. Awesome writers, new stories, contests, games, fan art, videos... It's awesome. You can find it all over at www dot bwfanficezine dot com.

"Bones, would you just give it up already?"

"You know I won't – I'm accustomed to attaining a certain level of excellence with everything I do."

"Even lying?" Booth countered.

It was four o'clock on a Friday afternoon – just three days after Vincent Nigel Murray had been shot, and an undeniable pall still hung over the lab. Nevertheless, everyone was back to work, trying to catch up on everything that had been missed while they were mourning Vincent and, then, working to help Booth bring Broadsky in. Now, however, no one was working – instead, she and Booth and Angela were gathered at one corner of the platform, taking what Booth called a "doughnut and coffee break," though she hadn't particularly felt like having either of them.

"Seriously, Booth, if you don't shut her off soon, I won't be held responsible for my actions," Angela warned. She looked at Brennan seriously. "You're a brilliant scientist and a great writer, and you know I love you, but you suck at lying, sweetie. That's not actually such a terrible thing."

Brennan shook her head stubbornly. "There are just some intonations that I need to master."

"It's not how you're saying it, Bones," Booth corrected her. "Or – well, yeah, okay – it's the way you say it, too. But it's also what you're saying. No offense, but it's pretty much everything you're doing here."

Based on the grin on his face, he was enjoying her inadequacy far more than seemed appropriate considering the recent evolution of their relationship. Shouldn't he be more supportive now?

"What I'm saying is no different than what you're saying when you do it. Here – I'll show you."

She focused on looking at neither of them, took a deep breath, and said evenly,

"I attended a high school on the south side of Chicago for a brief time, where everyone was forced to succumb to locker searches and I was subsequently expelled when they found a marijuana pipe placed there by my foster brother at the time; I created an anti-venom in graduate school designed to counteract the effects of a rattlesnake bite, and I enjoy watching speed skating competitions occasionally on my off hours."

"Second one," Hodgins said, as he skipped up the top step to the platform.

Booth and Angela looked at one another and nodded. "Second one," they agreed, in unison.

Brennan was tempted to hurt someone. "How do you know?" She looked accusingly at Hodgins. "And how do you know? You weren't even part of the conversation."

"Because we've been doing this pretty much nonstop for the past two days, and it's always the second one," he said.

She furrowed her brow, looking at Booth in question. He nodded. "Yeah. Sorry, Bones. That's the other way we can always tell. The middle one is always the lie with you."

"Well, I won't do it that way anymore," she said.

Booth shrugged. "Fine. But trust me, it's not gonna matter. Besides, if you're not doing the second one, it'll be the last one."

Her eyes widened. "You don't know that."

"Sure I do. Same way I knew all your passwords that time, and I know the next time you sit down at your desk, you're gonna pick up the file furthest to your right, take a sip of coffee without looking at it, sink back in your chair, and start reading. Then, you're gonna finish your coffee without looking up from the file, and you're only gonna stop working when you realize the cup is empty and you need a refill."

Hodgins nodded, clearly impressed. "Nice. He's got you figured out, Dr. B."

For some reason, it bothered her that he found her so predictable. Before she could argue the point, however, he stood abruptly.

"So, quarter past four," he said, nodding toward the clock on the wall. "Know what that means?"

He looked at her with clear significance in his eyes. Since they had already been over this particular plan several times, she nodded with a clear lack of enthusiasm.

"I know what it means."

"Ten o'clock, Bones. I mean it." He looked at Angela. "And if I hear you stayed later than six, I'm sending somebody from the local PD to escort you home. You guys all look like the walking dead."

An uncomfortable silence fell at his words. A crew was scheduled to come and replace the glass that had shattered when Broadsky fired his fatal bullet through the skylight and into Vincent's heart, but for now it was taped off with plastic. The janitorial staff had successfully cleaned the intern's blood from the floor, but Brennan still found it difficult to walk past that spot.

Hodgins went over and put his arm around Angela, nodding solemnly. "Don't worry, man – I'll get her home. No OT this weekend."

Cam emerged from her office then with a stack of case files, and Booth sighed. "Looks like that's my cue. Don't work too hard, all right?" He hesitated for so long that Brennan finally looked at him uncertainly.

"Was there something else?"

"Uh – no, not really. I just…" He lowered his voice. "Could I see you for a second, in your office?"

She felt Angela's eyes on them, the artist's grin widening at the blush on Brennan's cheeks. Booth scratched his neck, standing awkwardly until Brennan finally nodded, leading the way back to her office.

Once they were inside, she was painfully aware of the glass walls and the presence of so many others in the lab. Booth put his hands in his pockets, appearing suddenly bashful. It was silly, really – they'd spent two nights wrapped in one another's arms, doing some of the most deliciously pleasurable things Brennan had done in years. Perhaps ever. But there was still a degree of uncertainty that they hadn't gotten past, since the sudden shift in their relationship. As though all the rules between them had suddenly changed, and neither of them was entirely sure what the new rules were.

That uncertainty seemed to be exacerbated now, since she had spent last night alone. It had been a mutual decision – they were both exhausted, and she was longing for some space to process some of the momentous changes that had taken place over the past week. The fact that she had gotten less sleep, tormented by insomnia for the first half of the night and nightmares for the second, unnerved her. Forty-eight hours into a relationship with Booth, and she was already looking to him to ease her mind in ways she had never needed him to before.

"I just wanted to make sure you're okay – that was the real reason I came by. You sounded kind of weird on the phone earlier."

"Cam was in my office," she reminded him.

He smiled at her, taking a step forward with his soulful brown eyes locked on hers. "Yeah, I know – but I'm pretty sure that wasn't the only problem."

"No… It was," she said, though she couldn't keep the uncertainty from her voice. "You know how much I value professionalism."

"I do," he agreed. He turned abruptly and closed the blinds, effectively shutting them in a shadowed cocoon before he returned to her. This time, he stood much closer than he had before.

"Angela already told them what's going on – you know that, right?" he said. "Cam, Hodgins, the squints… hell, I think security got the memo."

"That doesn't change the fact that I believe we need to maintain a certain level of professional decorum when we interact in the office," she argued.

She crossed her arms over her chest, unconsciously closing herself off as he breached the last few inches between them – though she noted that he still did not touch her.

He nodded, more gently than he had before. "I know that. And I'm totally with you on it – I think that's the way to go with this. But I just…" A shadow of doubt clouded his eyes. He worried his lip for a moment, his forehead furrowed. "I know you, Temperance. And right about now, the way I figure it, you've got about sixteen different thoughts you don't even know you're thinking, and they all revolve around how you've gotta build back up all the walls we've been working to tear down for the past eight years."

She frowned. "No I don't. You don't know me as well as you think you do. I've had no such thoughts."

"So you didn't have trouble sleeping last night," he said. His head was tilted slightly to the side, a faint smirk on his face. God, sometimes he really was infuriating.

"I did have some trouble sleeping last night, as a matter of fact, but it had nothing to do with you," she said defiantly. "Or us."

"Uh huh," he said, clearly not believing her. "And you didn't think to yourself, 'Jeez, I slept like a baby those two nights I was wrapped up like a kitten in Booth's arms.That can't be good.' "

She felt the doubt touch her eyes, her own brow furrowing more now. "I didn't think that," she said softly.

He nodded. The smirk was gone now, in its place a gentle sympathy. "Okay. That's good, Bones."

He put his arms around her for the first time since he'd left her apartment the morning before last. She remained stiff for a moment, unwilling to accept just how deeply comforting she found his presence. That stiffness lasted only a moment, however, before she put her arms around him and lay her head on his shoulder.

"If you had thought it, though, you know what I'd say?"

For a moment she just stood there with her head on his chest, trying to fight her curiosity. Finally, she gave in. "What would you say?"

His arms tightened around her for a moment, but then he moved back and looked her in the eye, framing her face with his strong, lean hands. "I'd say, 'Anytime you ever have trouble sleeping again, all it takes is a phone call and I'm there.' " He kissed her lightly on the mouth, then pulled her back into an embrace. "I'm not going anywhere, baby," he said, his breath warm in her hair. "You might as well get used to it."

It amazed her sometimes - and frightened her, she had to admit - just how well he could read her. She closed her eyes, reveling in his strength, but a moment later the murmur of conversation outside her office reminded her where they were. She kissed his neck quickly, trying to convey the fact that he had successfully eased her concerns, and then stepped back.

"Thank you, Booth" she said. Her eyes drifted to the door of their own volition. Booth grinned, seeming to take no offense.

"And that's my cue to get the hell out," he said lightly. "But I'm serious about what I said earlier, Bones – I'm gonna be here at five 'til ten tonight, and if you're not ready to go at ten on the dot, I'm packing up all your stuff and carrying you out."

"That won't be necessary." She licked her lips, voice lowering seductively. "I find I'm suddenly looking forward to a Friday night at home, just the two of us."

His smile widened to a sexy grin and his eyes darkened at least two shades. "Oh yeah? What'd you have in mind?"

She shrugged, pushing him toward the door. "I think it's time I rid you of this notion that you can predict everything I'm going to do before I do it," she said. She leaned up and whispered, "I can be very creative when I want to be," purposely breathing hot air in his ear before she nipped his earlobe lightly. Before he could respond, she opened her office door and pushed him outside. The combination of lust and surprise on his face was, without question, the best thing she had seen all day.

Once he had gone, she stood there for a moment with a smile, considering their conversation. Her mind was already awhirl, thinking of possible ways to bring Booth to his knees by the end of the night. Suddenly, she found herself in the unusual position of counting down the hours until her weekend began.

TBC