Brennan laughed at Booth as he made another one of his lame, jokes, it was the smile that filled his entire face that made her laugh, the joke had no logical fact behind it. Brennan was slowly beginning to understand more about the world though, through his eyes. Booth taught her something every day. And for that she had affection for him, it was hard to teach Brennan; she was the teacher, and Angela had been trying for years.

Booth had broken through that barrier.

"I'm glad I can make you laugh," he smiled at her with obvious warmth and affection. "I tell good jokes…"

"It wasn't the joke, Booth," she told him honestly, unable to stop herself from telling him the logical reason for her amusement.

Booth frowned. "Why are you laughing then?" he suddenly looked self-conscious.

"Because you're smile reaches your eyes, it's quite attractive," she told him. Booth's smile widened at her words. "It wasn't a compliment. I was just stating a fact!"

"Fact or not," he shrugged. "Anything positive and uplifting, true or false is a compliment, and I will take it that way… thank you, Bones."

Brennan frowned. Sometimes he didn't make any sense at all. "Booth, what I was saying was-"

"Bones!" he warned. "I got it… just leave it."

Brennan nodded, still confused by his response.

"You should really try this pie…" Booth urged extending his hand to Brennan with a forkful of apple pie.

Brennan pulled a face and shook her head. "No… I consistently explained to you, Booth that I don't like my fruit cooked."

"How you know unless you try it?" he challenged raising his eyebrows and smiling in that cute way he did. Brennan's stomach fluttered as his eyes locked on hers.

Her voice was softer when she answered him. "I don't need to touch the stove to know its cold."

"Hot, Bones," he grinned taking the pie in his mouth and savoring the taste.

Brennan blushed. "What?"

"The phrase is, 'I don't need to touch the stove to know it's HOT'"

"Oh," she smiled. Brennan never did get worldly terms and phrases. "Sweets, once told me that your constant obsession to get me to indulge in pies are a seductive term."

Booth shrugged shifting in his seat. "Are you going to believe a 12 year old over me?"

"That's not accurate, Booth. Sweets-"

Booth groaned. "I know, Bones. Forget it."

"Booth?"

"Yeah…" he narrowed his eyes and took another bite of his apple pie.

"Dad asked me to meet a distant relative, a cousin that I'm told I used to interact with when I was a child."

Booth looked across at Brennan with slight confusion. "You don't want to meet 'em?"

"I don't know," she shrugged. "I don't know them, Booth. This relative is a stranger. Yet, I'm obligated to meet them simply because we share the same bloodlines. Dad expects me to give up my Christmas vacation plans to entertain this relative."

"I'm sure he doesn't expect that, Bones. And would it be so bad to do it?"

"I don't know what that means?"

"Bones," Booth sighed dropping the fork on the empty white china plate. "Maybe it wouldn't be such a terrible thing to meet this person, who knows it might be nice for you to spend Christmas with your family this year," he encouraged.

"I don't know 'em, Booth. Guatemala-"

"Will still be there next year."

Brennan watched him for a moment.

"Look, Bones… if I could spend the holidays with Parker, I would sacrifice ANY plans I had to be with him." Booth's eyes clouded, and Brennan knew he was pained. She hated to see him like that. It made her own heart ache at the thought of him being so sad.

"Booth, would you-"

"Would I, what?"

Brennan hesitated. "Would you like to spend Christmas with me?"

A smile spread across his face, again, reaching his eyes. "I would REALLY love that, Bones. Yes… thank you."

Brennan nodded once. Her heart fluttered at the prospect of spending the holidays with Booth. It would certainly be nice to have him around.

"Brennan, this is your cousin, Margaret," Max Keenan said. "Margaret, this is Brennan."

Brennan extended a hand to her relative in politeness. Margaret eyed her suspiciously, making no move to touch her.

Abruptly, she pulled her hand back. Who was this woman? First impressions were strong for Brennan, and rarely changed. Things were not looking so good for Margaret.

"And this is Booth," Brennan gestured with her hand towards her FBI partner.

Margaret's eyes instantly glanced up to him, a smile lit her face. Her hand extended, and Booth happily shook it.

"Wow… the two of you are like sisters!"

"No, we're not!" both girls stated in unison.

Brennan glared at her cousin and scoured. She was nothing like this woman, she was a stranger. How could Booth make such an assumption on a first glance meeting?

Booth smirked. "Nevertheless, you're both beautiful," his eyes unmoving from Margaret. "You can call me, Seely." Brennan bore a glare through the back of her partner's head. He never let her call him that. An irrational anger boiled forth in her, and she was momentarily confused. It was not rational to be so irate with him, because he found her relative attractive.

"Your eyes are too close together," Margaret responded in the same bluntness tone that Brennan used. "But you're still handsome."

Booth frowned unsure whether to take her comment as a compliment. He decided it was, and smiled in reply.

"So you're staying for dinner?" Margaret asked batting her eyelashes. Brennan wanted to slap her cousin.

Booth nodded. "I am."

"Good."

Brennan pulled Booth by the arm and into the empty seat at the table. Over the next hour, Brennan's sour feelings deepened. Who was this woman? Who did she think she was batting her eyelashes at Booth? She practically threw herself over the table at him. Booth seemed unaffected by the woman's appalling display of affection, which only angered Brennan that much more.

Towards the end of dinner, Booth's attention finally fell to Brennan. She had been too busy rationalizing her emotions, she hadn't heard his question.

"I'm sorry, I was momentarily distracted. What was the question?" she asked.

Booth frowned. "Are you okay, Bones?"

Brennan nodded. "Yes. I'm fine. What did you ask?"

"We were talking about someplace that Maggie could stay when your dad goes out of town for few days. She can crash with you, right… just for a couple of days?"

Surely this was one of his over-the-head jokes that she just didn't get, some lame attempt to teach her more about the world. And when had he started calling her Maggie? Brennan stared disapprovingly at Booth.

"Come on, Bones. She has nowhere else to go."

"She could go home!" Brennan stated matter-of-factly.

"Bones!" he snapped giving her that adoring puppy-dog eye look, the one she could never say no to.

Curse Booth.

"You'll have to talk the spare room," Brennan said coldly, staring at her new-found cousin. "It's not very tidy. I have a busy schedule and I don't have time to take care of you."

"I'm sure I can assume myself," Margaret replied impassively.

"Fine!" she threw her hands up in defeat. At least there was a silver-lining; she thought positively, if Margaret was with her, then she wouldn't be with Booth.

The first night with Margaret raised problems. The woman hovered. Brennan was holding back her temper, which was determined to make its presence known at some point, as long as her cousin continued to stand and hover as Brennan typed away at her latest book.

"Don't you have something to do?!" Brennan snapped looking up from her laptop to glare at the girl who was causing her life to change.

"What are you doing?" Margaret asked choosing to ignore the warning in her Brennan's voice.

"I'm writing a novel!" she stated matter-of-factly. "And I can barely concentrate when you hover like that."

"What are you writing?"

"A book on Anthropology!"

"Can I read it?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't even let Booth read it until it's completed and moment's away from shelf-sold, and I barely know you."

"I'm your cousin!"

"That means nothing to me…" she said bluntly. Brennan could never be accused of being too kind.

Margaret didn't seem at all phased by her candor. "Is the book about you?"

"No," she denied. "It's fabricated characters. I'm trying to work here, do you mind?"

Margaret shrugged and left the room, leaving Brennan a moment to breathe. She used it to her advantage and animatedly typed away at the keyboard. But when her cousin emerged a little while later, she was wearing a tight short black dress that showed off her more than average figure, catching Brennan's attention.

"Where are you going?" she asked as Margaret headed for the front door.

"I have a date with Seely," she smirked with obvious pleasure.

Brennan's stomach made a whirlwind. A date?! Why did that cause her such irrational thoughts?

"Where is he taking you?" she asked allowing her curiosity to get the better of her. Brennan was usually good when it came to minding her own business, people were allowed their secrets, after all, she had the monopoly on that. But when it came to Booth, a strange unfounded, non-scientific reasoning seemed to grasp her attention.

Booth belonged to Brennan.

"It's a surprise…" she waved as she opened the door and called out over her shoulder. "Don't wait up."

Brennan's enthusiasm for her book went out the door with Margaret. Her concentration was out, and her thoughts wondered from what they were eating to where they'd go after dinner. Brennan's stomach continued to whirlwind, leaving her a feeling of uneasy panic.

That's when the rational thought made its appearance. Why did it bother her so much? She wondered. Did I want Booth for myself? The very idea made her heart rate increase, and the whirlwind in her stomach was out of control. It couldn't be true, she denied, I wasn't in love with Seely Booth. He was my partner, my best friend, my confidant.

"Oh God," she groaned. "I'm in love with Booth."

Brennan didn't wait up for Margaret, and when she rose the next morning, she was quick to leave her apartment and get as far away from that woman as possible. At the Jeffersonian, she managed to arrive before anyone else, which in itself was not at all unusual, but when she attempted to work on some old cases, her concentration was out, and she found that she could not compartmentalize as she once could.

Instead, she wondered into her office, attempting to at least sort through some papers, but relief found her when Angela arrived at work.

"Morning sweetie," she greeted with a smile.

Brennan did not smile. "Angela… can I ask you something?"

"Of course," her friend look momentarily concerned. Her advice was never usually asked for, but frequently offered. Brennan knew just about everything, except about people, and relationships.

"I think I may have feelings for Booth," she told her. "And I was just-"

"WHAT?!" Angela beamed hardly unable to believe it. "You are admitting this aloud to me, and to yourself, that you, Temperance Brennan, have a thing for Booth!"

Brennan narrowed her eyes. "I do not have a THING for him!"

"But you like him?" she pressed.

"I think so…"

"Not just as a friend, but-"

"ANGELA!" she warned losing her patience. This was why she never told Angela about her emotions. She was a bull who had seen red and was already charging.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled dropping her excitement a few notches. "Go ahead…"

"He went on a date last night," Brennan said uncomfortably. It brought up images she couldn't banish.

"So," Angela seemed unaffected by this. "He goes on dates ALL the time. He loves you, sweetie."

"Then why did he go out with Margaret?" she asked.

Angela smiled. "Because she is the closet to you."

"We are NOT close," she denied. "Our personalities are certainly not interchangeable. She irritates me to the point of irrational thinking."

"No, Bren, I mean she is the closest person that Booth can date, without dating YOU!"

Brennan considered her comment.

"She's living with me!"

"Why?" Angela frowned.

"Booth asked me…"

"Why did you say yes?"

"Because Booth asked me!" she repeated. "I'd do anything for him, you know that."

"So tell him that," Angela suggested. "Tell him that you love him and you want to be with him."

"Ang-"

"Sweetie, listen to me. This is something I have known for a long time, and you've known it too. Now that you've admitted it the next step is to tell him what you're feeling…"

"I can't," her emotions scared her. "What if-"

"He won't."

"But, what-"

"Won't happen."

"How do-"

"I just know. I see how he looks at you, how he gets jealous and how much he loves you, sweetie. If you don't tell him by the end of the day… I will!" she threatened. Angela left her alone then, to think about it.

"BONES!" Booth's voice called from the office door.

Brennan sniffled from her place on the floor behind her desk. She heard footsteps and a moment later, Booth appeared to find her crouched on the floor, with unchecked tears on her face.

"Oh, Bones…" he crouched down beside her and laid a hand on her shoulder. "What's wrong?"

Brennan looked at him, unable to find any words. This was not something she was good at. "I… you and…"

"Me and you?" he pressed. Brennan shook her head. "Me and Margaret?" he guessed.

Brennan nodded and the tears came fresh.

"What about us?" he asked.

"It's irrational," she confessed.

"Me and Margaret?!"

"No," she shook her head. "Me… I don't like her."

"Why not?"

"She touches you ALL the time!" Brennan observed.

His smile reaches his eyes. "I hadn't noticed."

"Yes, you did!" Brennan snapped suddenly feeling angry. "You flirt with her too… I saw you at dinner. And you made me take her into MY home, Booth. MY personal space, and she hovers. A LOT!"

"Okay," he reasoned. "So she can stay with me…"

Brennan turned her head from Booth. But he reached out and tucked his hand under her chin, guiding her face back to his. "Are you mad?"

"Yes," she whispered.

"Are you jealous?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because you're mine!" she told him innocently. Brennan dropped her hands into her lap. "And you let her call you Seely. I never call you that!"

Booth laughed.

"It's not funny!"

"Does it bother you?" he asked with amusement.

"YES!" she barked. "It bothers me!"

Booth hesitated before he gave her an explanation. "You sound like her… the way you talk. I was afraid that if she called me Booth, then it would sound like you, and I didn't… I didn't like that."

Brennan considered his reasons. It sounded rational to her. "Okay."

"Good. And Bones…"

She looked up at him, locking her eyes with his.

"I love you, too," he whispered leaning in to kiss her.

Brennan murmured against his mouth. "You do?"

"Every minute, every hour, every single day, I love you."

Brennan laughed. "I love you too, Booth."

"I know…" he said before pressing his mouth to hers.