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Sweet Dreams are Made of These	By : Malfoywhore Category: 1 through F > Bones Views: 12653 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Bones, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Sweet Dreams are Made of These
- 1
Title: Sweet Dreams are Made of These
Chapter Title: Nocturnal Commissions
Genre: Romantic Comedy
Rating: R��
Pairing: Booth/Brennan
Description:�
Booth has been having sex dreams about Brennan.� What does it mean for their relationship?
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Fox. Not me.
Dedication: To the delicious and devilish David
Boreanaz.
********************************************************************************************
�I�m having sex dreams.�
Dr. Wyatt raised an eyebrow. �I�m
sorry.� I must have misheard you. What
did you say, agent?�
�� Sex dreams,� Booth gritted out.
�Since I have to keep coming to therapy, I might as well get something out of
it. I keep on having sex dream, Doc.�� He
still wasn�t clear why he had to be in therapy.
�� They sat at the dining room table in
the doctor�s house.� Booth stared into
his cup of coffee as though it contained the secret of life.� Everything seemed to be a mess lately.
�� Yes, well, such rousing praise for
my competence not withstanding, I�d be happy to assist you in any way I
can.� Whom are you having these dreams
about?� Dr. Wyatt said with a sly smile on his face. �Is it me perchance?� Transference is a normal part of therapy,
where a patient assumes that a therapist�s unconditional support and caring are
more than--�
�� Booth shook his head, his teeth
gritting. �Not about you. About someone else. Someone female.�� Not that he cared, he just didn�t have
feelings for men.
�� Dr. Wyatt grinned. �I was just
making sure. I�m certain you must have picked up on the fact that I am a gay
man.� After all, therapy is an intimate
relationship to have with someone. Besides, you�ve made me dinner at my house
and we�ve spent a great deal of time getting to know one another.� He patted
Booth�s hand. �Aside from the fact that it would be completely inappropriate
for me to get involved with a patient, you aren�t my type.�

�� Both cocked his head to the
side. �Why not?� I�m hot.� My body is amazing. Have you seen my abs? I
do fifty crunches a day.��
�� Dr. Wyatt took a sip of his coffee.
�I�m sure your body is very attractive. Now then, tell me about these dreams.
Who is the object of your nightly lust?�
�� Booth looked up, eyes wild. �Who
said anything about lust?� I know a
little about psychology. I might not have a degree in head shrinking, but even
I know that dreams aren�t always what they seem.� �Just
because I�m dreaming about having sex with my partner, doesn�t mean that I
actually want to jump her.� Maybe I�m
angry with her or I�m thinking about��
�� Yes, your hunches are very interesting,
but I need more information before I can make an assessment.� The doctor leaned
forward, eyes narrowed. �Tell me. Is there any physical�manifestations of your
dreams?��
�� You mean�� booth cocked his head to
the side. �What do you mean?�
�� Nocturnal emissions?� Dr. Wyatt
prompted.
�� Nocturnal emission? Oh, you mean,
nocturnal, uh, emissions. Booth closed his eyes. �Er, yes.� Sometimes, I wake up and my sheets
are�stained. That hasn�t happened since I was in college.� He coughed. �I�m not
currently in a sexual relationship at the moment. Well, I sort of have been
carrying on with an ex-lover of mine, but lately we haven�t been. Involved.�
�� Dr. Wyatt stroked his chin
thoughtfully. �Now we�re getting somewhere.�
You said you are having these dreams about your colleague? Dr.
Temperance Brennan?�

�� He squared his jaw. �Yes,
about her.� So what is it, Doc?� Some kind of fluke? Or maybe��
�� Due to the physical manifestations,
I�d say these dreams are pretty straightforward.�� You are sexually attracted to your partner.�
�� Booth shook his head. �No. We�re
friends. Partners.� Buddies, you
know.� She�s my female buddy, in a manly
sort of way. I don�t want to have sex with her. At all. Understand?�
�� Dr. Wyatt narrowed his eyes.
�Methinks you protest too much, my good sir.�
A simple �no� would have sufficed.�
�� Okay. No.�� Booth drained his coffee cup and set it down
on the table with a pronounced thump.
�� �Why are you so aggravated, agent?� Is this why you committed a homicide on the
poor, unsuspecting clown?�
�� Booth stood up and began to pace the
linoleum floor.� �That isn�t
possible.� I�m not saying I�m sexually
frustrated, but if I were, it wouldn�t be enough to set me off. Push me over
the edge.�
�� Maybe, but sexual frustration isn�t
something you can continue to ignore, Agent Booth.� �It�s adding to your anger, so you need to
diffuse the situation.�
�� Booth stopped pacing and looked down
at the doctor.� �How?�
�� You need to confront, Dr. Brennan.
Tell her how you feel.�
�� No!�
That would ruin our relationship.�
�� I notice you said relationship, not
partnership.�
�� Booth scowled. �Stop analyzing me.�
�� That�s what I get paid to do.�
�� Booth placed his coffee cup in the
sink.� �Look. I�m going to go. I have
some paperwork to catch up on. Filing. That sort of thing.�
�� If you don�t want to talk, all you
have to do is say so.�
�� Fine. I don�t want to talk about
it.� Booth turned around and gestured to his backside. �See? I�m a hottie.�
�� Dr. Wyatt shrugged. �Let�s see if
Dr. Brennan feels the same way.�
* * * * *
�� I�m frustrated.�
�� Booth glanced at Bones as they drove
to yet another crime scene.� Sexual
homicide.� The woman�s remains had been
found in a field outside of the city limits.�
Badly decomposed.
�� About what?� Things aren�t going well with Sully?� he was
amazed at the amount of anger in his words.�
Thankfully, ever literal, Bones analyzed his words and not his facial
expression when he said it.
�� No, the mating rituals of our
relationship are progressing at a normal rate. We�re engaging in courtship
rituals like dinners and hand holding in public. Pair bonding.�� But, sexually speaking, something is
lacking. We�re�Booth! Look out!�
�� Booth swerved into the other lane,
narrowly avoiding another car.�
�What?� I�m fine. We�re fine. No
damage done.�
�� You nearly killed us both. Maybe I
should drive?�
�� Not going to happen. This is my FBI
vehicle. Besides, I�m the man.�
�� Bones shook her head, a smile on her
lips. �Yes, I forgot about the biological imperative you have to be in control,
even if it is an illusion. It�s like Sully. He insists on being� the sexual aggressor in any encounter we
have, even though I haven�t been satisfied yet.�
�� Satisfied?� Booth felt like the top
of his head was about to blow off.� Too
much information. Or not enough.� He felt
like he should be paying $3.99 a minute for this.� At least.
�� Sexually.� Despite the size of his sexual organ, he
hasn�t given me an orgasm.�
�� Booth coughed. �Bones, I don�t know
if this is appropriate or--�
�� Please. We�re partners. We should
share everything. Besides, I need advice from someone who is experienced
sexually, and in relationships.�
�� You want sex advice from me?� Booth
asked incredulously as he turned on to the street.� Ahead of them, a gathering of police vehicles
indicated the spot they were looking for.�
�� Well, relationship advice, but if
you have any pointers, I�d be happy to take them under advisement.��
�� Booth threw the SUV into park.� �Just how big are we talking?�
�� Bones grinned at him. �Huge.�
�� I see.�� He opened the door.� �I think we should leave the personal stuff
in the car and take a look at the dead body.�
Fine with me.��

��
��

Couldn�t
get this plot bunny out of my head. Is it worth continuing?
- 1
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Sweet Dreams are Made of These