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"I want my bones, Booth." She damn near growled at him, tugging his arm and manhandling him to the edge of the crime scene.
"It's not really our jurisdiction. They're just being polite because we happened to be in town." He explained to her, but she scowled at him, her blue eyes boring into his.
"Booth…" She said, softening her features. Okay, so she was going to go this route. She stepped a little closer to him, lowering her lashes and tilting her head to look up at him. "Can't you use your substantial FBI powers to, you know, confiscate the crime scene?" She asked in the tone that, in the several weeks since they'd begun a romantic relationship, he understood to be a precursor to seduction.
"Baby…" He murmured sweetly, leaning in closer to her as she toyed with the zipper on his leather jacket discretely between their bodies. "You know that I can only do that if I can charm them into a little inter-agency cooperation—"
"Yes! Do that!" She nodded rapidly with a smile, interrupting him.
"—but someone called them incompetent small town hacks with archaic mores and even more archaic equipment already. And that was just in the last few minutes." He continued over her, watching her expression fall into a frown.
"Well, should I have lied to them?" She asked, crossing her arms over her chest and raising a challenging little eye brow.
"Flies and honey, Bones." He told her, watching as she scrunched her face up in confusion. "You catch more flies with honey… being sweet gets you what you want… it's a saying."
"I shouldn't have to be sweet when they were clearly damaging valuable evidence!" She demanded. "They should appreciate that I preserved their crime scene and offered my expertise, when clearly I was on vacation with my… with you." She stammered, and he couldn't help the little smirk. "Don't use your charm smile on me, Booth. I want my bones." She demanded again.
"That's too tough." He told her, crossing his arms across his chest. "You were rude to them, and now they aren't inclined to do us any favours, just because you think it will help with your paper on unique murder weapons."
"Okay, cast a spell on them or something." She suggested with an enthusiastic nod. He tilted his head in confusion at her. "You know… that thing you do when you want something…" she tried to explain, doing a poorly executed sign of the cross.
He grabbed her fumbling little hand and guided it through the motion correctly. "The sign of the cross, Bones? That's a prayer; not a magical spell to curse my… your enemies!" He said through gritted teeth. "Now you're offending me. You're really not gonna get those bones." He told her and watched with a mix of amusement and dread as she stomped her left foot down in frustration before turning on her heel and stalking away.
"DON'T call me baby!" She shouted at him, and he cleared his throat, trying to ignore the snickers from the local cops around the crime scene.
…
"Booth…" She murmured from the passenger seat, speaking for the first time since they got on the road forty minutes ago. He glanced toward her only briefly. "Thank you for getting me the bones." She continued quietly.
"Yea, well, you owe me. You have no idea what I had to say to that Sheriff to get you your precious bones." He grumbled at her, hiding his own amusement at his fiery little pistol.
Tiger by the tail. That's what the Sheriff had said, and he would have laughed if it wasn't so true.
"Listen, Sheriff… I know, ok, she's not the easiest person to work with, but she is the best, and for whatever reason, she really wants to examine these bones." Booth tried to reason with the man.
"She is cocky and rude." The Sheriff said bluntly.
"Look, she doesn't mean to be." He tried again.
"Look, yourself, kid." The Sheriff interrupted. "I saw, my guys saw… we get it. She's your special lady, and you want to make her happy—"
"No, Sheriff, you're wrong. She is my special lady, but it's not about making her happy here. It's about making sure she doesn't murder me in my sleep and leave my body looking like those bones back there. Buddy, if I don't tell her I went all federal on your ass and called in the government, I'm not getting laid for a very long time." Booth felt a little guilty saying all of that, whether he thought it was partially true or not. "Whatever you think about us, she really is the best, and if you let her at those bones, she'll hand you the evidence you need to win your next election tied up in a neat little bow like it's Christmas morning."
The Sheriff hummed and hawed for a moment. He and Booth both knew that the local coroner was neither equipped nor experienced enough to deal with this properly, but they were holding out on a matter of principle. He could understand that.
"You got yourself a real tiger by the tail, son." He finally said, pointing a beefy finger at Booth's chest. "You go ahead and ship 'em back to your Jefferson lab. Keep me informed, and I expect that pretty little bow-wrapped evidence."
Booth nodded in agreement. His Bones was getting her bones, and all of the boneses were going to be just fine.
"Owe you what?" She asked, drawing him out of his reverie. "Would you like fellatio while you drive?" She offered, and he sputtered, nearly swerving when she reached her clever little hand across the console to stroke his thigh.
"No! Bones!" He scolded her.
"You're right. It's dangerous. Pull over." She told him, pointing to the darkened shoulder of the road.
"What? God, Bones… that's not what I meant." He said, chuckling at her interpretation of the debt. "You don't owe me … sexual favours, ok…" He said feeling a little guilty for planting that idea in her head.
"Well, what do I owe you? Should I write you a cheque?" She asked, reaching for her bag.
"You owe me lunch, ok?" He told her quickly, hoping to end the conversation.
"Lunch?" She confirmed, and he nodded firmly. "Ok." She was quiet for a long time, and he thought she'd fallen asleep when she spoke up again. "I think I'd prefer to owe you sexual favours. It's quite erotic to think you could call in the debt whenever you like." She murmured.
He glanced over at her in surprise, catching her flirty smile before returning his attention to the road.
"Looks like we're both getting some bones tonight." She muttered. When he shook his head in exasperation, she began to explain. "You know, because boning is a common colloquialism for-"
"Yea, I know what boning is." He told her, reaching over the console and threading his fingers through hers.
"And I'm indicating that I'm going to bone you-"
"Yes! I got that."
"You're going to be boned by Bones." She laughed at her joke. "Because you call me Bones…" she clarified, and he nodded, smiling indulgently at her. "I must admit, I find I'm much happier now that I have my bones." She murmured, sighing contentedly as she leaned her head against the window and closed her eyes.
"Me too." He agreed quietly. "You know, because I call you Bones." He said with a teasing tone, copying her earlier explanations.
"Yes, that's humorous, because I am your bones in your example." She agreed sleepily.
"Yea, you're my bones." He agreed, squeezing her hand.