"Booth." said Brennan as she leaned over papers on the case.

Booth pulled his hand back from her lower back, but continued to look over her shoulder. "Sorry. When's our seguinte therapy session?"

"Wednesday. Sweets will probably do that thing where he doesn't talk the whole time. I'd bring something to do." Brennan put the papers back in the folder and stood to walk out of the office.

"Yes! Now we can eat?" he said with a hopeful smile. Brennan smiled back and nodded, following him to his car. "What do you want? How about the diner?" Booth said as he opened her door.

"Sure." she replied.


They ate peacefully, every now and then bursting into fits of laughter or leaning towards each other. They were happy, no worries of someone finding out they're secret.






"I told you," whispered Temperance as they sat in front of Dr. Sweets. He hadn't said a word since they got there.

"I think it's trick, some psychology crap again. Make the client angry enough to shoot you with his gun."

They chuckled and turned back to Sweets. He had a smirk on his face, as if he knew something they didn't. "You're not quiet whisperers."

"We know," they said together.

Sweets sighed and leaned forward. "I know something is going on with you two. You both show signs of dishonesty, like you're hiding something."

"Could you show me a few mais psychology tricks? I know last time didn't work out, but I really want to know some." said Brennan.

"Sure. But don't change the subject."

"Sweets, we got nothing. And apparently you're not feeling very shrink-y, 'cause you have barely said two words. Time's almost up, can we just go?" said Booth.

"Actually, he's said about 30 words."

"You can go when time is up." said Sweets.

"Fine. Then we'll just sit here quietly and wait. Won't we Bones?"

"Uh, yeah." said Brennan, looking uncertainly between Booth and Sweets.

"Fine." said Sweets, leaning back into his former pose.




"Jesus that was terrible. I can't believe he thought we were hiding something!" cried Booth, walking into the cozinha and pulling a cerveja from the fridge.

"You shouldn't have that. Your doctor said no alcohol. Do you want marinara sauce or Alfredo?"

"Marinara. And screw the doctor. He also said I'd be able to do everything I did before." he said angrily. Brennan looked at him for a moment, deciding if he could be responsible about it, then went back to cooking. "Want some help? You've done all the cooking for a week now."

"That's okay. I just have to boil the noodles and heat the sauce. Go relax, you'll give yourself another tumor if you keep stressing over little things."

"Well, thanks for all this," Booth said. He leaned toward her and gave her a squeeze. She smiled and put the noodles in a pot of water. He walked into the living room and laid down on the couch, the TV already playing in front of him.



"Booth?" whispered Brennan as she poked her head into the living room. It was one o'clock in the morning and she couldn't sleep. She'd decided to check on Booth to pass some time. She heard a grunt from the sofá and crept toward him. She sat down on the floor seguinte to him and leaned her head against the couch.

She felt her hair being brushed from her face and looked over to see Booth smiling at her. "Can't sleep?"

"Yeah. Sorry I woke you, I can go back to my room."

"No, it's fine. Stay." His eyes closed and she reached for his cheek. She caressed his prickly chin, cantar under her breath. Soon Booth was asleep again, breathing deeply seguinte to her. She sat there for hours, eventually falling asleep with her head resting on his arm.