What Goes Around

7. It's All About Talk

"Ok, well... See you tomorrow!" Brennan said, pressing the elevator button.

"What do you mean? I thought we had to... not talk about work."

"And the best way to do so is by not talking at all."

"But Sweets said..."

"We never agree with Sweets."

He kept quiet, so she turned to him.

"You're taking his side?" she asked, surprised.

"No! Never. I'm just..."

They avoided each other's eyes. Until Booth spoke again.

"Maybe we should try. We could go to my place and... hang out."

He sounded like a 14 year-old.

"Fine," she abdicated.

The elevator door opened, when it hit her.

"Wait! We can't go yet."

"Did you forget something?"

"No. I'm..." She had to find an excuse to buy some time. "...hungry."

"I have food in my fridge, you know?"

"Yes, I know. But..."

What was up with her?

"We'll eat some snacks, then I'll cook you dinner. Whatever you want."

He really wanted her to accept.

"Come on! You had lunch not even two hours ago. You can't be that hungry!"

Two hours?

"What time is it?"

Booth checked his watch.

"It's almost 3:30."

Oh! They had told her everything would be in place in the early afternoon. They should be done, right?

"Ok, then." And she followed him.

They turned the corner in the hall and saw two guys coming out of Booth's apartment, closing the door. Booth immediately reached for his gun. Brennan stopped him.

"Booth, no! They were only there for a delivery." The two men passed them on their way out, unaware of who they even were.

"In my apartment? You know about this?"

"I gave them the key..." she admitted.

"You what? Bones!"

"I'm sorry!" she pleaded. "But they are professionals. They do that all the time."

"That's not the point," he said, opening the door. "I'm a federal agent! You don't let just anybody in my house when I'm not there!"

She followed him, apologizing again, while he went on and on about the dangers of deliverymen and something about how she should never...

But then he saw it. Hanging on the wall. It was taking the whole wall. He dropped his keys on the floor. Brennan picked them up and put them on a table next to the one left behind by the movers.

"Do you forgive me, now?" she asked him.

He was in awe, mouth open, blinking every few seconds.

"That's... mine?"

"Yes. That's why I had it delivered here."

"But that's worth at least $6,000. I know you're rich, but I can't accept this. Though I might, because really, really want to."