A/N: This was going to be a one shot, but the characters kinda took over and insisted it was a two shot. So here's part one and hopefully part two will be posted tomorrow night. A huge thank you goes to my second muse, luli—love ya, sweetie!

The doorbell rang and Brennan laid the book aside and sighed. It was nearly nine on New Years Eve and she'd been looking forward to a quiet evening alone. Her trip to Peru had been postponed since she'd missed her flight Christmas Eve. She'd missed her second flight on the 26th thanks to the discovery of four badly burned bodies that morning. She hoped nothing would prevent her from making the afternoon flight she was supposed to take tomorrow. It was true that the dig in Peru wasn't going anywhere, as Booth impatiently pointed out, but she was really anxious to be there. Every day that went by meant she missed being in on whatever discoveries that were being made.

She almost didn't open the door when she looked through the peephole and saw who it was. She really didn't need the hassle, but there was no point in ignoring her. She wasn't going to go away—she knew she was home. Opening the door, she gave Angela a weary look.

"Sweetie! Why aren't you ready?" her friend asked, grinning as she swept past her. Brennan's shoulders slumped as she closed the door and reluctantly faced her.

"I told you when you called, I'm not in the mood, Ange," she said, padding over to the couch. Sitting down, she tucked her legs up under her and pulled the chenille throw around herself. Angela perched on the couch near her.

"All the more reason to go," she said irrepressibly. "C'mon Bren, its not going to do you any good to sit here and pout about having to postpone your trip. A little music and dancing, drinking and good company is just the ticket."

Brennan closed her eyes and dropped her head against the back of the couch. "Noooo, Ange. Please, can't you just leave me alone?"

"Now what kind of friend would I be if I left you alone on New Years Eve? C'mon, it'll be fun." Brennan rolled her head towards her and peeked one eye at her doubtfully. "Tell ya what, you come along and stay until the midnight countdown and if you're not having a good time, I'll bring you home myself." The doubtful look intensified. "Promise," Angela swore, raising her right hand as though taking an oath.

Brennan sighed heavily and sat up, pushing the throw aside. "Fine. Give me fifteen minutes to get ready." Sometimes it was just easier to go along when Angela had her sights set on something. Angela hopped up with a grin and a barely suppressed laugh, but she subsided at the glare her friend gave her. "Wait here. I don't need any help."

Angela had to admit Bren was right. She didn't need any help this time. She looked very hot in the teal scoop-necked top and form fitting black slacks, but she kept her thoughts to herself. No need to make things worse. Brennan had a mutinous look on her face as though she had already decided she wasn't going to have a good time. Angela suspected she was going to be driving her home at five minutes past twelve. Looking at her from the corner of her eye as she drove, she hid a smile. Or maybe not. After all, she happened to know a certain hunky FBI agent was going to be there. A couple drinks, some hard-to-resist dance music and a little gentle nudging from a well-meaning friend and anything was possible.

The club was packed but Angela knew the bouncer at the door so they got in without any trouble. Holding Brennan's hand so they wouldn't get separated, Angela began to weave through the crowd toward the table where she had left them when she went to get her errant friend. She frowned as she noticed that Booth wasn't there with Cam, Zach and Hodgins.

"Hi everybody," Angela said with a smile. "I found her with her nose in a book, of all things."

"Imagine that," Cam said sardonically. "Glad you could join us, Dr. Brennan."

"Like I had a choice," Brennan muttered grumpily as they sat down. A cocktail waitress came by just then and they ordered a round of drinks.

Just then Booth came up. He looked startled to find his partner there. "Hey, Bones, when did you get here?"

"Nice to see you too," she said testily and Angela rolled her eyes. These two were impossible. A new song with a strong back beat started and she leaned toward Hodgins.

"Dance with me before I hurt somebody?" she asked him softly. His eyes darted around the table and he smiled at her.

"Sure. Wouldn't want violence to spoil the evening. Excuse us," he said, getting up and taking Angela's hand to guide her to the crowded dance floor. Booth sat down as the drinks arrived. Cam looked back and forth between the partners, then decided to give them some time alone.

"Let's dance, Zach," she commanded, standing up. Zach's head snapped up and his mouth dropped open. "Now, Zach," she said with a tight smile at his hesitation.

"Uh, I—uh, are you sure? I'm a terrible dancer and you're my boss and—" he stammered, subsiding at her stern look. "Yes, ma'am, I-I'd l-like that." His face was red as she led him away.

Booth looked at the surging crowd around them but found nothing to hold his interest, certainly nothing as fascinating as the woman sitting across from him. She was frowning at her glass, drawing circles in the condensation on the table.

"You still upset about postponing your trip?" he asked, just to get the conversation going.

Her glance bounced up to meet his, her look startled as though she'd forgotten he was there. "There's no point being upset. It couldn't be helped. I've got a flight tomorrow afternoon."

Booth narrowed his eyes at her. "What's the attraction? Why go halfway around the world to look at a pile of bones that's thousands of years old?"

Picking up her drink, she took a sip, considering his question. Setting it back down, she decided to answer him honestly. "Studying ancient cultures tells us things about our culture—where we came from and how we got where we are today. It's like finding a piece to a huge puzzle and placing it where it belongs. Maybe it's my way of making up for my social shortcomings. Sometimes I think if I can understand more about people and their cultures, maybe I can learn how to interact with them better."

Booth watched her thoughtfully. "You do okay. Certainly better now than you did when I first met you."

She smiled, pleased that he had noticed. "Thank you."

An awkward silence fell as they both searched for something else to say. That usually wasn't a problem with them, but then it wasn't every day they were in a social situation that required small talk.

"Do you want to dance?" Booth finally asked as he noticed she was tapping her fingers to the beat.

"Oh, no, you don't have to—" she protested, straightening a little in her seat.

"I didn't ask because I had to. I'd like to dance with you," he said with a cocked grin. She hesitated, glancing over his shoulder towards the crowded dance floor. "C'mon, it isn't like we've never danced before." He stood up and offered his hand. After a moment of indecision, she put her hand in his and stood. Because she didn't want to embarrass him, she told herself.

By the time they made their way to the dance floor the music had changed to a slow ballad. Couples all around them were plastered up against each other, and she felt self conscious of the fact that she was on the dance floor with her partner, not her lover. She hesitated as he turned to pull her into his arms, unfazed by the change in the beat. Rather than make a scene, she let him pull her close. She was intensely conscious of his warm hand at her waist and the faint brush of his thighs against hers as they settled into the rhythm of the song. She focused on a point over the heads of the crowd and tried to ignore the startling rush of desire that was threatening to overwhelm her.

His shoulder was solid and warm under her fingers and she resisted the impulse to trace the lines of his muscles. Her eyes were drawn to examine his left hand which held hers firmly, the fingers long, the skin slightly calloused; a manly hand that could be gentle or violent, as the need arose. She'd worn low heels in anticipation of dancing, so her eyes were level with his nose and she glanced at his face from the corner of her eye. If she turned her head, their lips would be a breath apart. A flush spread up her neck as she remembered the kiss under the mistletoe. His lips had been softer than she'd anticipated and once the initial shock had worn off he had parted them slightly to sip at her gently. Keenly aware of Caroline's presence, Brennan had fought the urge to deepen the kiss.

The song finally ended and Brennan broke out of his embrace, murmuring something about going to the ladies' room. Booth watched her disappear into the crowd with a puzzled look on his face.

That was the only dance they had. She danced with Zach, then with a string of guys who approached the table to ask her. Booth watched her with each of them, pushing away a pang of jealousy every time she looked up at them, smiled at them, even seemed to be flirting with some of them. Angela sensed the rising frustration in Booth and racked her brain for some way to bring them together again. She'd seen them dancing earlier—the sexual tension had rolled off them in waves. It wasn't going to take much to push them past whatever barrier was holding them apart.

Everyone crowded onto the dance floor as the minutes ticked toward midnight. Brennan was looking for Angela. She was going to hold her to her promise to take her home after the countdown. Not that she hadn't had fun—she'd just had enough fun for one night and she was really tired.

Angela was well aware that Brennan was looking for her and she was doing her best to evade her. At the same time she had sent Booth looking for Brennan on the pretext that Angela wanted to take her home right after the hubbub of midnight died down. He found her at one minute 'til midnight, trying to push her way through the crowd.

"Bones!" he said loudly over the noise of the crowd. She turned around, right into his arms. Her startled blue eyes looked up into his and he forgot what he was going to say. The noise around them seemed to fade to a faint jumble of sound as they stared at each other, pushed together by the crush of people. She stumbled a little when someone fell into her and his arms tightened around her. She smiled faintly as a strange sense of peace and complete safety settled over her. Her eyes dropped to his lips and suddenly the room erupted around them with cries of "Happy New Year!" and people started embracing and kissing on all sides.

"Fuck it," Booth said low, then dropped his head to kiss her.

This was like the mistletoe kiss, only better. They were surrounded by hundreds of people, but nobody was watching them this time, so Brennan gave in to her desires. She wanted to know what a real kiss would be like with him, so with a soft sigh she sank into him, opening her lips to allow him to taste her. He gave a start of surprise but quickly recovered, softening the kiss and delving into the soft, moist depths of her mouth with a faint groan. Her tongue slid along his, savoring the incredible sensation of tongue against tongue, flavors mingling and textures sending thrills along her nerve endings. Her hands crept up his shoulders, along his neck and up into his hair, clutching him to her tightly.

Booth's senses were spinning. Who knew kissing her like this, without restraint, like he'd wanted to for so long, would be so intoxicating? He pulled her tighter into his embrace, painfully aroused and beyond caring if she knew it. The kiss went on and on, until suddenly they became aware that the crowd around them was on the second chorus of Auld Lang Syne. They parted slowly and stood staring at each other, breathless and dazed as though just waking from a deep, dream-filled sleep.

The crowd was milling around them, gradually breaking up, and now there was room for them to put some space between them. Brennan blushed and looked away, but Booth was having none of that. His finger snagged her chin and brought her face back to him again. "I've wanted to do that for a long time," he confessed huskily.

Her eyes flared wide. "R-really? But—"

His finger on her lips stopped her protest. "Not here," he whispered, and the look in his eyes made it hard to breathe suddenly. Turning away from her, he took her hand and led her through the crowd. She noticed he was headed for the door instead of their table, but he completely ignored her tugging on his hand and her voice telling him to stop. He barely stopped to gather their coats at the door, then he ushered her outside.

"I'm taking you home," he said firmly as he helped her into her coat, then put on his own.

She folded her arms against the chill. "What if I don't want to go home?" she said stubbornly. This couldn't be happening, she thought frantically.

He frowned at her. Damn, she was frustrating. "Angela said you wanted to go home right after the midnight countdown."

"Maybe I changed my mind," she said, pursing her lips.

Booth shivered a little in the cold as well, even as he felt his temper start to rise. Where was the woman who had melted in his arms just moments ago? The determined look on her face told him her defenses were back up and suddenly he'd had enough. He stepped into her personal space and she met his glare, refusing to back down. "Don't even try to pretend that was a brotherly kiss we shared back there, because I was there too," he growled, clenching his hands at his sides. Her stubbornness really ticked him off and he was afraid if he touched her right now, he'd shake her until her teeth rattled.

His anger should have scared her, but she looked up at him calmly, knowing he'd never hurt her. "You're right, it wasn't," she finally admitted to his surprise. "The way I see it, we have two choices: forget about it and go on with our platonic relationship, or we could—" she broke off, searching for the right words.

"Go to my place and fuck like bunnies?" he finished bluntly, just to shake her up.

She didn't disappoint. Paling, she took an involuntary step back and gasped. "There's no need to be so—"

"Crude? Why not? Falls right in line with your 'biological urges' attitude doesn't it?" he asked roughly.

"I'm not going to talk to you if you're going to be that way," she said, turning to go back inside.

She was right. Booth sighed as his anger dissipated and he caught her arm. "I'm sorry." Her head snapped back to look at him. "Please, let's go to my place."

"Just to talk," she said firmly. He nodded, but she made him wait a long minute. "Okay."

Turning to lead the way, he glanced back from time to time to make sure she was following, but he needn't have worried. She was determined to settle this, no matter which way it went.