How Bones had come to find himself in that backwoods dive bar was still something of a mystery to him. All he really was certain of was that the whole thing had begun with his acceptance of Jim's invitation to spend their week of shore leave together in Jim's hometown of Iowa. This night in particular had begun as a bar crawl to all of Jim's favorite haunts. And that was as far as Bones' memory seemed to want to go - their first stop was only the vaguest recollection nearly five hours later - one too many neat shots of bourbon could do that to a man.

And now here Bones sat, hunkered up beside Jim in a smoky dancehall saloon somewhere closer to the pre-dawn hours than not. He blinked blearily, bringing a tumbler of Maker's Mark up to his lips as he looked out at a large crowd of people stomping and shuffling to a complicated looking line dance in the hardwood ring beside their table. Staring down to the glass in his hand, he tried to remember how many drinks he'd had and found with a detached sort of bemusement that he had no idea. He very rarely let himself go in such a way, but it was just so damn easy with Jim urging him on.

Bones pulled his head up and glanced at Jim beside him. Everything was so damn easy with Jim urging him on. Agreeing to away missions he never would have even considered was easy when Jim talked him into it. Staying on a ship that operated in the deepest, darkest stretches of outerspace was tolerable with Jim by his side. Coming on this trip to Iowa was easy simply because Jim had asked him to come. But he knew that wasn't all Jim had made easier for him, not if he was being completely honest with himself. In the most hidden part of his heart he knew that it was because of Jim that now it was so much easier for him to smile and laugh - things he thought he'd never be capable of again after the black hole his failed marriage had created just left of center in his chest. There were a lot of things Bones thought he might not be capable of again after that disaster, but Jim continued to coax him closer and closer to the understanding that maybe he wasn't as completely broken as he had originally thought himself to be. But for as clear as that understanding became, Bones still had a lingering doubt lodged somewhere deep in his chest that there was still so much he did not deserve, with Jim's love being at the top of that ever-growing list.

I'll never settle down

That's what I always thought

I was that kind of man

Just ask anyone

Bones continued to stare out at the dancers as they maneuvered their way through a new line dance, content enough to just sit back and slowly nurse the drink in his hand to try and quiet those incessantly damnable thoughts chasing around in his head

But of course Jim had other ideas.

He jumped up from the table a little unsteadily in a flash of blond hair and blue eyes when the line dance ended, nearly knocking Bones' drink from his hand.

"What the hell, kid?" Bones grumbled, shaking away the few drops of bourbon that had splashed across his fingers.

"Dance with me!" Jim said brightly, holding his hand out to Bones with a wide grin splitting his face.

Bones looked up at him, stunned. "Excuse me?"

Jim continued to hold his hand out toward Bones, but glanced over his shoulder to the dancers beginning to spin around the dance floor to a slow tempo song. "Hurry! The song'll be over soon," he urged, with a voice that sounded more on the sloshed side of slurred.

Bones looked up at him, his customary frown settling into place and his arms crossing over his chest. "You're drunk, Jim," he replied matter-of-factly, as if that would be enough to put an end to the slightly swaying captain's lark.

Jim's smile broadened as he gave his rebuttal, "S' are you."

Bones shook his head and immediately regretted the move with how much more addled it seemed to make him. "Yeah, well I don't dance, so y're out of luck, cowboy." He took a deep sip of what was left of his drink and decidedly glanced away from the enticing, infuriating, adorable man before him.

Jim was not to be swayed, not that it really surprised Bones all that much anymore, and he reached down and tugged Bones roughly to his feet. Bones somehow managed to keep a hold of his glass until he gained his footing and scowled at Jim who was veritably thrumming with excitement as they stood beside the dance floor.

"Dammit, Jim. What part of 'I don't dance' did you not understand?" Bones groused. He hadn't told Jim that just because he didn't want to do it, but because he honest to God did not know how.

Jim nodded thoughtfully, blue eyes shining like the most pristine Georgia sky, and carefully extracted Bones' glass from his hand. "I heard you, Bonesy, but I just don't believe you. Everyone knows how to dance."

And with those words he pulled Bones onto the dance floor. Not like Bones could really protest much, not with how easy every goddamn thing was with Jim urging him on.

A bevy of two-steppers sashayed past them and Bones suddenly began to feel a little nauseated. He seriously considered bolting from the room before he felt Jim's hands come up, one nestling in his own, the other resting on his shoulder, and he was instantly drawn away from that near-debilitating anxiety.

Bones looked away from the other dancers swinging around them and fiercely focused all of his attention on the man standing before him. Jim looked up at him, a smile just barely touching his lips and an unmistakable gleam of admiration shining in his eyes, and he was suddenly all that Bones could see.

"All you gotta do is move, Bones," he said softly.

Bones nodded unevenly, settling a shaky hand on Jim's hip. He glanced around him to make sure he wasn't going to smash into any of the other dancers and began to step to the slow and steady beat of the music playing, trying desperately not to trip over Jim's feet or his own.

Soon, it became progressively easier to move along with the crowd after Bones got a grasp on the rhythm - Fast, fast, slow. Fast, fast, slow - and he even got brave enough to try a spin, drawing Jim out slightly, turning him under his arm, and bringing him close up against his body in a movement that was a little less than graceful, but fun nonetheless.

I don't dance, but here I am

Spinning you round and round in circles

It ain't my style, but I don't care

I'd do anything with you anywhere

Yeah, you've got me in the palm of your hand

Cause I don't dance

Jim's grip tightened on Bones' shoulder when Bones pulled him flush against him, looking up at Bones with depthless eyes that were full of something Bones was afraid to name, even if it wasn't out loud. Their faces were bare inches apart and Bones could feel the warmth of Jim's breath ghost across his lips and chin as they continued moving around the ring. His heart contracted almost painfully and he wrapped his arm around Jim's narrow waist, drawing him even closer.

Jim stiffened in his arms and Bones was instantly and agonizingly certain he had crossed some line, a line that had begun to blur so badly that Bones hadn't even known he was nearing it, much less crossing it. And wasn't that the damn reason for all that self-doubt rooting itself so deeply in his hollowed chest? To keep him from making the same exact mistakes that had landed him one less marriage, one less intact heart, one less sense of dignity? It was almost enough to make Bones pull away completely.

But then Jim softened against him, settling easily into Bones' embrace, with his head coming down to rest on Bones' shoulder, and there was suddenly nothing in the whole entire goddamn world that could make him want to back away.

Love's never come my way,

I've never been this far

Cause you took these two left feet

And waltzed away with my heart

That ache in Bones' chest, that hurt that never seemed to want to go away, eased to a barely noticeable throb as he canted his head forward, pressing a fractionally hesitant kiss against Jim's hair. He was instantly and helplessly enveloped in a heady rush of peppermint and sandalwood and rich Tennessee whiskey and it gave him a stronger buzz than he'd had all night.

Jim looked up slowly, his lips parted on an exhale. "I thought you said you couldn't dance," he said, wonder plain on his face.

Bones chuckled lightly, an unfamiliar but completely welcome warmth spreading through his heart, and he brought his head down closer to Jim's. "I said I don't dance, kid," he whispered gruffly with a quirk of his eyebrow, "But for you, I'll make an exception."

And it was easy, so goddamn easy, for Bones to finally press a kiss against those lips he had been longing for since the day he had boarded that transport shuttle and found himself seated beside the man that had irritated and exasperated and, ultimately, loved him more than he could have hoped to imagine.