Booth had been at the bank when the suicide bomber went off. As you and your team went around collecting evidence, you noticed some remains on Booths back.

When you got him back to the lab, now as evidence, he complained the whole time.

“Okay, now I need to take your clothes off.” You said, reaching for his suit jacket.

“What?” Booth asked, turning to try and look at you.

“Stop moving. You’ll contaminate the evidence.” You mutter, putting his jacket on the evidence tray and stepping around in front of him to unbutton his dress shirt.

He’s squirming and pulling facing and making comments, distracting you as you try to work. You step behind him to slip his shirt off and he tries to stand.

“Not yet.” You said, stepping back around him and lowering to your knees to undo his belt.

“My belt too, Bones, really?” He said, his voice strained as he leant back against the bench.

“And your pants.” You said, starting to unbutton his suit pants.

“I’m gonna start naming saints, okay?” He muttered, listing off different saints as they came to mind.

The sight of you, his friend, coworker, person he was embarrassingly in love with, on your knees in front of him was already too much. And then you start taking off his pants? He needed to go to confession, or pray, or, or…

“God dammit.” He breathed, still wriggling despite his best attempts to sit still. “Bones, hurry up.”