Chapter 1

The End in the Beginning

'What ever happened to seeing someone across a crowded room, eyes meeting, that old black magic gets you in its spell?'

'There's no such thing as magic.'

'Oh, there's magic.'

It happened the moment she walked into the room. Dark shiny hair, piercing blue eyes, flawless expanse of a pale neck leading down to a body that he just knew was covered in milky soft skin.

Wow.

It was fate. It had to be.

Russ followed his friend's gaze across the room – filled with a sea of teeming black suits scattered by flowing, colourful dresses – with a worrisome gnawing in his gut that transformed into a full blown panic when he saw where it ended.

'Wow.' Booth realised he had made the sound out loud when Russ said, in a sharp tone that his friend paid no heed to,

'No, Booth.'

Booth hadn't taken his eyes off the beautiful creature across the room, and he barely registered Russ' words. Still, he figured he must know who she was if he could declare her off limits – and Russ was with Amy so he couldn't claim her for himself, because good friend or not, if he wasn't with this girl Booth wasn't backing off. On second thought, even if he had been with her… best to learn who she was first. Setting down his champagne flute, he turned to his friend as some other bodies briefly obscured her from view.

'Why?'

'Because I-will you stop gawking at her like she's a piece of meat or something?'

'What?' Booth had gone back to staring at her, and he finally turned to look at his friend with a sheepish smile, eager to gather whatever info he could in the time he had, because she was heading their way.

'C'mon, Russ.'

'No.'

'Listen, I wasn't looking at her like she's meat, alright? But she is beautiful.'

'She' was at their table by then, however, and Booth stood automatically as Russ reached over and kissed her on the cheek before turning to the rest of the table. Booth grinned. Well, there was no way he could avoid giving an introduction now. Russ, however, turned to his sister to begin when he realised that not only was Booth looking at her in a way that he wished he wouldn't, but she was looking right back at him. Clearing his throat, Russ said abruptly,

'Everyone, this is my little sister Temperance, who's waiting for her date. Tempe, this is everyone.' That's Temperance! I thought she was ten. Russ pointedly avoided furthering the introductions and was about to sit down and usher her into a seat – on his other side, as far from his friend as possible – when Booth recovered and stepped forward smoothly, extending his hand with a 'hi, I'm Seeley Booth.' He flashed her a smile that vanished as soon as she placed her cool hand in the warmth of his larger one, and he felt a sudden jolt of something that probably could have been described as electricity but was unlike anything he had ever experienced before. Brennan, it seemed, was having the same reaction to him, and she smiled, a genuine smile that reached those gorgeous blue eyes that he found himself getting lost in, momentarily disarming Booth. He considered asking her to dance before Russ had the chance to object, but then a voice interrupted them and he registered the rest of Russ' words. Little sister. With a date. Temperance.

'She's your sister, Russ?' John wolf-whistled behind them. 'You sure bout that? It's just, it's hard to believe you two are from the same gene pool.'

'Shut it, Bower', Russ grumbled. Booth realised subconsciously he would have been seriously pissed if Bower wasn't happily married with two kids and about the most decent guy he knew.

Booth pulled out a chair for Temperance and Russ looked at him pointedly and finished, 'Yes, she's my little sister and she's also here with a date. So hands off. All of you.' Booth rolled his eyes at Russ' less than subtle warning, but he also felt a disproportionate surge of jealousy rolling around in his gut at the knowledge that she was here with someone else.

'Thank you, but I am capable of pulling out my own chair.'

Whoa. Booth felt himself freeze at hearing her voice for the first time, and he almost had to hold back a gasp. Soft, husky, Hepburn-esque drawl. Confident and feminine at the same time. And very, very sexy.

'I don't doubt it', he responded smoothly.

'Temperance doesn't believe in chivalry', Russ chipped in.

They both looked up at him suddenly as if just realising they weren't alone.

'Really?' Booth raised a dubious eyebrow and turned back to the subject of his friend's statement.

'The whole Age of Chivalry was irrational. Knights, maidens… thank goodness we've moved through the Reformation and the enlightenment and into the age of reason. Wouldn't you agree?'

Strangely enough, as he looked down into her impossibly blue eyes (or were they green, with specks of brown…aquamarine…Temperance blue, he decided) he found that even though he wanted to impress her, he wasn't tempted to lie in order to do it. Those blue eyes made him honest.

'Not at all. I gotta tell you, I think they had it pretty good idea with the whole chivalry thing, you know, open cart doors, kill dragons…'

'Chivalry is just a socially acceptable term for chauvinism.'

'You can't mean that.'

'To imply that a woman is incapable of opening her own door or walking herself home is sexist and demeaning. Indulging in such behaviour would suggest a desire on your part to perpetuate the notion that men are superior.'

'I don't believe that at all.'

'Then why continually act in a manner that promotes the stereotype of the weak woman?'

'Look, I don't believe that women are, uh, inferior, alright? In many ways, I'd say they're superior to men. I've known a lot of strong, independent women, like my gramps, and-'

'Exactly.'

'And they like having their car doors opened, and, uh, chairs pulled out for them-'

'Would I be remiss in assuming that your grandmother – while I have no doubt that she is in fact the strong and independent woman you say she is – comes from a different era, when traditional ideals of womanhood and old-fashioned social mores still lingered.'

Booth grinned at that. 'Yeah, maybe, you know, but I'm an old-fashioned kind of guy.'

'That's unfortunate.'

'Oh, and why's that?'

Brennan had already opened her mouth to speak when Russ interrupted. The rest of the table was focussed on their barely underway verbal tennis match as if their exchange were somehow a source of fascination, but neither Booth nor Brennan noticed.

'O-kay. Tempe, why don't you come and sit by me over here? I'm sure Samuels would like his seat back when he finishes getting a drink.'

'I'm sure Samuels wouldn't mind', Booth smiled serenely and somewhat menacingly at Russ.

'Yeah, considering he's been standing around by the bar talking to that girl for over twenty minutes.' Nox chipped in, jerking his thumb in the direction of the bar. 'Oh, what do you know, they're not standing around anymore. That boy moves fast.'

'Yeah, almost as fast as Booth.' Bower chipped in with a smirk, not oblivious to Russ' reaction to the woman who had become the object of Booth's present source of attention, and not above goading his friend.

'Shut up, Bower.' This from two of the three other men at the table. John just grinned good-naturedly and his wife rolled her eyes. Her husband seemed to be enjoying himself thoroughly at the expense of his friends.

Brennan, however, frowned adorably. 'What do you mean he moves fast? Are you referring to his speed of motion with respect to the other men, or his general agility? Because his size would suggest that he might have difficulty maintaining a steady pace with that build. Russ is also extremely fast-'

'Tempe', her brother interjected while Bower snickered at the reaction he had managed to wrangle.

'What? I fail to see what his motor skills have to do with his romantic prospects-'

Booth, who had been gaping at her in something akin to disbelief, snapped out of his daze, springing out of his seat before someone offered to explain it to her.

'Temperance? Would you like to dance?' He glared at Bower, for laughing at her and for maligning him, over her head, and waited for her to take his hand. The moment she did, however, all thoughts of Bower evaporated. So touching her – that hadn't been a one time thing.

'Yes'.

'Shall we?'

He motioned for her to step ahead of him, manoeuvring her chair out of the way automatically.

'I told you I was capable of pulling out my own chair, Agent Booth.'

He grinned. 'Sorry bout that. But I told you, I'm an old-fashioned guy. Besides, I'm an army man. These habits die hard.'

'And here I thought that one of the requisites for being a good soldier is the ability to follow orders without questioning them.'

He led her away from the table, he replied, 'If I followed orders without questioning them, against my own beliefs, Temperance, I'd be no better than a drone.'

God, the way he said her name made her shudder, prompted a strange and completely irrational response in her, physically. It did something to her she couldn't explain, anyway.

'Well, anthropologically speaking, paramilitaristic organisations tend to constrain individuality.' She replied, before continuing, 'But in any group, no matter how restrictive, the freethinkers, the mavericks, the rebels with leadership quality find ways to declare their distinctiveness.' She turned to face him as they reached a spot on the dance floor that he had guided them to, and her hand made to reach for his shoulder as his own fell from her back.

Booth grinned as he wrapped her in his arms. 'There you go. I'm a freethinking rogue rebel.'

GOD, it felt incredible to hold her.

Their conversation – atleast verbally – seemed to end there, for a time. They moved perfectly together, and even though she was slightly awkward she was grateful, and she fit in his arms like a dream – only one he couldn't have had because he couldn't have known it was possible to feel like this. He was almost surprised that she let him lead, trusting him completely in a way that touched him. They never broke eye contact or step. At one point he almost panicked and thought it would be best to start conversation because she was pressed so close he wasn't sure he'd be able to control himself, but then she rested her head on his shoulder and his heart stopped, and he was effectively made to forget what he was planning to say or why. After a while – they weren't sure how many songs had finished, one, two… but her feet were hurting and she was leaning against him for support, he decided they'd been silent too long. Forcing himself to stop focussing on the heartbeat he could feel against his chest, Booth cleared his throat to speak, his voice a little more husky than usual.

'So, uh, Temperance, you already know I'm with your brother in the FBI, what do you do?'

'I'm a student.' He twirled her and brought her back again.

'Oh?'

'Yes'. He smirked. She really did have a unique way of engaging in conversation. He wondered how those college papers would read, all clinical and precise. The thought made him smile.

'Of what?'

'What?'

She looked up at him and he cocked a brow.

'A student of what?'

'Oh. Well I intend to pursue anthropology.' 7

Before they could continue in that vein, someone bumped into her from behind, and Booth caught her securely against his chest.

'You alright?'

She laughed, a beautiful open sound he had to hear again. 'Yes, I'm fine.'

He looked down at her again, and then,

'Booth?'

His eyes slid shut momentarily as he realised he loved the sound of his name falling from her lips – she hadn't said it before. When he refocussed his attention on her, she was frowning.

'Is it alright if I call you that? It's jus that Russ always does, and he once told me you prefer it-'

'Yeah.' He cleared his throat gruffly. 'Yeah. Booth's fine.'

'What is it, do you want to stop dancing? Take a break?' Please say no, please say no, I want to hold her, keep holding her, and some other guy will snatch her up the moment- and then he remembered, oh fuck she was here with a date. His mood went south and his grip tightened on her once more.

'No', she replied, and he felt relieved. 'I was just wondering if you were here with a date, and you had to go spend time with her'. No I'm not here with a date, you're here with a bloody date. Whom I detest already. And the way Russ had said it, like she was taken… 'As I understand it, romantic partners tend to be possessive and prone feelings of neglect if –'

'We're just friends.' His grip tightened on her again. Then realising he was being sharp with her for no reason whatsoever, he sighed, inhaling a breath of her, a surprisingly sweet scent in her hair that helped calm him. 'She's good friends with a lot of guys here, and she's worked closely with us in the past. We only came together 'cause it was convenient. She'll find her own way.'

'Oh. That's good.' Brennan's considerably brightened smile made him feel considerably brightened in return. But she still hadn't shared about her date.

'So', he took a deep breath and steeled himself for a response. 'What's the deal with your date?' He wondered if the word sounded as unfriendly to her as it did to him, despite the effort.

'I don't have a date.'

YES THANK YOU GOD HALLELUJAH PRAISE THE LORD

'But Russ said-'

'Oh, that's right. I forgot to tell him. My boyfriend was supposed to arrive tonight but his flight got cancelled-'

He forced something akin to a smile that probably looked more like a grimace and tuned out the rest of the words. Boyfriend. Not date. Boyfriend.

When he had recovered just enough to speak, he gruffed out,

'So how long have you and your, uh, boyfriend, been together?'

'Oh, a long while, but we haven't seen each other in two years.'

'Two years?' Well that changes things. It puts a different spin on them for sure.

'Well, yes.' Brennan frowned.

'Let me get this straight. You're dating the guy, but you haven't seen him in two years.'

'Yes.'

'Have you even met him?'

'Ofcourse.' Brennan frowned, no doubt at the incredulity in his tone. And not jealousy. Nope, no jealousy. Not a hint. Not a bit. None. Her eyes narrowed. 'I understand that it's not conventional for two individuals to pursue a long distance relationship through correspondence and less tangible forms of communication, but this arrangement happens to work just fine for us.'

'Right.' Booth couldn't keep his tone as neutral as he'd planned.

'I'll have you know that some people don't require a physical aspect to be introducedinto a relationship straightaway and I find that an intellectual bond is enough to satisfy me for the time being-'

Not when I'm done with you, you won't. You ASSHOLE, where did that come from? You'll turn into exactly the kind of guy Russ is afraid of letting be around his little sister, at this rate.

'Sure', he ground out. The idea of another man touching her was making him so ridiculously angry and was upsetting to him at an elemental level for a reason he couldn't fully comprehend, so he wasn't about to complain about her arrangement. Still, the thought of her being with someone else, belonging to someone else – though a girl like her could never belong to anyone, but somehow it seemed right that she belonged with him. Whoever the hell this other guy was, he wasn't giving up without a fight. Hell, he wasn't giving up period. He was going to take every chance he could with her, so being nice about this supposed boyfriend and feigning an interest even though he could almost feel his blood boil was probably a good place to start. Besides, he had better convince her that she needed a real man who actually wanted to be with her, not some scented stationery.

'You know, you haven't seen the guy in two years, suddenly his flight is cancelled and he doesn't show… I don't mean to imply anything but are you sure he's not getting cold feet or something?'

'Considering there are reports of snow storms in Seattle and the number he called me from belonged to an airport official, unless he's engineering natural disasters I find it unlikely that he's not telling the truth. As for his feet, they're probably cold because of the weather.'

Oh har har Brennan. Point one to you.

Booth cleared his throat. 'So this exchanging letters thing-'

'Email'.

Booth rolled his eyes. How romantic. Thankfully he didn't voice the thought because he had a feeling he'd be in for a long lecture on the conveniences of modern technology and the romanticisation of old-fashioned backward thinking. 'Email. How does it work?'

'Well, you establish an account on any one of numerous websites-'

'I know how email works, thank you, Temperance.' His exasperation was mounting.

'Then why did you-'

'I meant, how did you, you know, start writing to someone? This Dick431 or whatever his handleis-' way to be nice about it, Booth.

'He doesn't have a ridiculous handle-'

'Right. Right. So did you meet this guy online, or something?'

'I already told you I've met him two years ago, implying that our relationship did not begin online which would be highly unlikely anyway because few dating websites would set you up with potential romantic partners in other cities, as I understand it.'

Booth sighed and looked down at her. 'What ever happened to seeing someone across a crowded room, eyes meeting, that old black magic gets you in its spell?'

'There's no such thing as magic.'

He dipped her and then brought her back impossibly close until their lips were practically touching and they were looking into each other's eyes and breathing each other's air.

'Oh, there's magic.'

Brennan was sure she had stopped breathing, scientifically impossible as that might seem.

They'd finally stopped dancing after that, when the music had been interrupted by a short speech and a break for refreshment, and Russ had come to claim his sister and prevent her reputation being sullied by evil predators.

An hour or so later, Temperance was back in her seat chatting with her brother.

Across the room, Booth and Cam were engaged in a pleasant conversation.

'So that girl you've been neglecting me for all night…?' Cam asked with a smirk, which Booth returned with a sheepishly apologetic one of his own and a 'sorry'. Cam just shook her head in amusement.

'Yeah, she's – ' Booth was too much in awe to hear the awe in his voice. 'I dunno, she's…God, she's really something. I don't know the first thing about her-'

'Except that she's Russ' sister.' Cam grinned. 'And an anthropology student.'

'Y-Wait, how'd you know that?'

'I've met her once before.'

'What? When?'

'Relax, Seeley. It was just briefly. We barely exchanged two words.'

Booth's scowl didn't lessen and Cam continued. 'She's staying with him for the next little while.'

'So you mean to tell me he's deliberately been hiding her from me all this time?' Booth realised he sounded like a petulant child, and they both laughed as Cam raised a knowing eyebrow to bring his attention to the fact.

'So what else do you know about her?'

'What do you want to know?'

'Everything. Anything.' And it was true.

Cam raised a brow in surprise. 'O-kay…'

Brennan saw Booth across the room, standing and talking with a gorgeous woman in a cream-coloured dress. Whatever she was saying, he was listening intently. She certainly had his full attention. She grimaced in irritation at the thought, then quickly schooled her features because she wasn't sure why. Then she remembered what he'd said about being friends – just friends – with his date, and she was somewhat placated. For some reason, she believed him unequivocally. Booth was honest, and he wouldn't lie to her. Besides, despite his obvious reservations about her becoming involved with his friend romantically, Russ had always spoken of Booth with respect and brotherly love, and he had never accused him of dishonesty either. When Booth came back with that same charm smile and large warm hand extended, asking her to dance, Temperance had accepted instantly without realising that he was exactly what she'd been waiting for all along.

He really was gorgeous. He'd held her impossibly close throughout the dance in a secluded shadowed corner of the floor, and they hadn't exchanged a word – or really moved, at that. He'd asked her only one question. At the end, he'd kissed her hand, prompting a stronger physical reaction than any touch from any other man ever had, or could imaginably have, and murmured something about believing in chivalry even if she didn't – and although he hadn't said it he had been thinking of how she deserved to be treated right. She'd probably have slapped him for voicing the thought, anyway. Brennan was quite certain he could have said or done anything and gotten away with in that moment, though. Then they'd said goodnight and Russ had ushered her off to their shared connecting rooms in the hotel upstairs.

The next morning when Temperance awoke, she wasted no time stretching leisurely or lounging in bed and dressed quickly, heading downstairs before her brother. She had never had a better reason to get out of bed before, even if she wouldn't admit it. Booth was awake and already waiting in the lobby when she walked in, looking around impatiently; then she entered, dressed all casual, looking fresh and young and more beautiful than he would have believed before he'd met her. She leaned over the counter at the receptionist's desk, long neck exposed, long legs stretched out in blue jeans, brow adorably furrowed and head tilted, perfect lips moving as she exchanged a few words with the cashier and flashed a small smile that made him happy and a little jealous, but more just happy ... Booth realised he was probably drooling when Cam nudged him rather hard and gave him an indulgent smile before making herself scarce though he failed to notice because then Brennan turned those piercing blue eyes his way, and started walking towards him. Their exchange from last night came to him as she was briefly obscured from his line of vision by a bellhop, some customers and some bags, but he tilted his head to look at her anyway.

'Do you believe in fate?'

'Absolutely not. Ludicrous.'

He knew.

They managed a few moments of conversation, sitting alone in the loveseat, when Russ emerged downstairs, hungover and miserable, only to see them smiling and talking, absorbed by each other and not wholly cognizant of anyone or anything else around them.

'You're a lot older than I thought you would be.'

'And you're a lot younger than I thought you would be', She smiled back at him.

'Yeah well, looks like Russ has been holding out on us.

'Would you prefer it if I had been younger?'

'Hell no'. The vehemence in his words made them both grin. 'Would you have preferred it if I was-?'

'No.'

They didn't notice Russ until he was right in front of them, and even then it took a moment.

'Oh, hey Russ' Booth greeted him first, with a huge smile that his friend didn't return, slinging his arm behind Temperance on the backrest.

'Good morning', Tempe supplied. Russ nodded at both of them, and then turned to Booth.

'Booth, Bower's looking for you.'

'Right, thanks. By the way, you look like crap, man.' Booth clapped him on the shoulder - a little too hard, Russ thought, but then everything was too hard and too loud and too fast right then - and excused himself, promising (Temperance, ofcourse, though Russ was too far gone to notice) he'd be back.

A few minutes later, Russ was at the checkout desk, and Temperance turned to Amy, who was sitting beside her and had been feeling too sick to attend the charity gala the night before. 'Amy, who's that Booth's talking to?'

Amy knew most of Russ' friends from out of town whom Tempe may not have met because she usually attended these old army/FBI events with Russ, and the whole group invariably all came together on those occasions.

'Oh, that's Cam', the blonde replied, glancing up. 'Camille Saroyan, one of Booth's on-again-off-again flames.' She didn't notice Brennan freeze beside her. 'They've known each other forever, apparently, and they keep getting together every now and again.' Brennan felt her eyes glaze, whether it was with tears or shock she wasn't sure. Convenient, indeed.

'Are they-' she licked dry lips, and croaked out the rest of the sentence, 'are they still together?'

'Probably. You know how these old reunions go. Shared hotel rooms, dancing, alcohol...even if you're partnered with someone else for the evening, you know whom you're going back with in the end-'

Brennan felt suddenly sick. The heart can't break, it's a muscle. Heartcrushing, then. She jumped out of her seat abruptly and shot out the door.

A/N: Well? Let me know what you think. This is my first non-collab solo attempt since taking over this account, so any feedback will be appreciated. I'll try to update soon! I promise it gets a lot better.

Next chapter: They go camping...