twentysomething

Up ahead in the distance-

Fandom: Bones

Pairing: eventual Booth/Brennan

Summary: ""They don't pay you much, do they, Booth?" she teases, slouching on his old, battered leather couch.

"Maybe I'd get a raise if I brought you in," he shoots back."

Length: 600 wordsish.

Warnings: Innuendo. Inyourendo.

Notes: So, things I love- CRIMINALS. Just, permanently weak. I really like to imagine that somewhere out there, there is a world where the Brennans (Keenans, whatever) took their kids with them on the run and they are a delightful crime family. And naturally, Booth tries to catch them. With varying levels of success. I started this... and as you can see, I got really far. I was probably going to take it in a White Collar-ish direction, Temperance being his CI, whatever, but alas.


To say Booth is surprised to see her is an understatement. Temperance Brennan has always had a way of surprising him, though, so maybe he shouldn't have been surprised to walk into his apartment and find her waiting for him.

"They don't pay you much, do they, Booth?" she teases, slouching on his old, battered leather couch.

"Maybe I'd get a raise if I brought you in," he shoots back. He doesn't bother reaching for his gun- she's not armed. She doesn't have to be. Brennan shakes her head, sadly.

"Well, we'll find out, won't we?" Brennan sticks her hands out in a good imitation of penitence. "Cuff away, Agent Booth."

Booth stares at her.

"What the hell sort of game are you playing, Brennan?" he demands. It's funny- Russ and Max have always been Russ and Max- but she's always been Brennan. She pouts at him- badly.

"I give you the opportunity to arrest me and you refuse?" she narrows her stupidly pretty eyes at him. "Is this because of the thrill of the chase? I've read that many men only want what they can't have." Booth resists the urge to go to the kitchen and pour himself a drink.

"What do you want?" he pushes and rolls his eyes when she shakes her outstretched hands at him. "No games. I'm not that dumb." She sighs, but then grins up at him.

"And that is why you've caught me. Good job, Agent Booth." Brennan tries. Booth scrubs at his face, and goes for the drink anyway. "Hey, Booth, what- come on!" This is clearly going to be extremely trying, so Booth gets out the good stuff.

He's been chasing the Brennans off and on for five years- sure, there have been lots of other cases between- the Gravedigger, Gormogon, because now he does homicide, the creepy-crawlies with the even creepier Jeffersonian staff- but he started out in larceny, and that's how he'd met Brennan.

Granted- he'd caught one or another of them over the years- but they were so damn slippery and smart- as soon as you thought you had them tied down, somehow they got loose again. But he was the only one who even got close, so as soon as he'd be wrapping up a case, it seemed that someone else called him, asking his advice because they thought it was a Brennan job.

In some screwed up way- he respects them. They're smart and they never use the same trick again, there's none of the hubris, none of the greed- Booth thinks they just sort of enjoy stealing. They also avoid human collateral- which Booth absolutely appreciates. He'd been baffled when Max had killed Kirby- disappointed even- but there had been a FedEx package on his desk, two days later, with all the evidence needed to posthumously convict Deputy Director Kirby and several other former agents, exposing their crooked schemes. There'd been a note, in Brennan's handwriting at the bottom of it- "He was protecting us." And Booth actually thinks he sort of gets it.

And judging from the four Christmas cards in Evidence, the Brennans like him, too.

"Booth, I'm not kidding," Brennan complains. She makes a face after a moment, though. "Unless you want to have sex while I'm still a criminal. I understand that the forbidden can be alluring." Booth chokes.

"I'm not going to have sex with you!" he blurts out, because- even if his dick and his right hand have had extreme conference on the matter- that is just so- beyond unprofessional.