Okay. So this is my first Bones story. I'm sorry if this is a little OOC, because many of my stories don't seem to display the true character; My characters tend to stray a tad from their true personalities. Plus I'm not much of a scientific chick, so Brennan's words may not be so accurate. Please be patient, and perhaps leave off some much-needed advice? =] I haven't written in a few years, and to be honest I may have lost my touch. Thank you all, please enjoy.

Rain splattered onto the ground in front of him. The night was cold, dimly lit by the street lamps, a touch of melancholy filling the empty streets. Brown eyes glared at the cracks in the sidewalk beneath steady feet, an ocean of emotions ready to spill over at any moment. What had he been thinking? "Should have stayed with the atta-girl thing. I knew it." He muttered to himself as the cold wind drifted across his bare skin, causing a small shiver to run through his body. Something spilled over the rims of those dark brown eyes, and Booth angrily used the back of his hand to wipe it away. Nothing he did, nothing he said, it would never be good enough. Not for her. She deserved better than his pathetic heart.

The wind picked up suddenly, causing the man to glare up at the dark sky. He turned to walk back inside, until something caught his eye. He quickly turned and took in the sight of a young couple enjoying the cold but peaceful night. A young woman dressed casually walked under the arm of a taller man, who seemed to be thrilled to listen to her non-stop chatter. A sudden gust of wind carried her scarf away, and as she shrieked the young man ran after it. Even when it caught on a high branch, even when she told him it was just a scarf and she could get another, he continued to fight for that scarf. He jumped with all the power he could muster, and eventually snagged the end of it between his fingers. With a huge smile on his face he tenderly placed the scarf around her neck, and in reward she pecked his cheek.

Booth stared with jealousy. He would have done the exact same thing, only for her. The woman he loved more than even he understood, yet was beyond his reach. Bitterly he turned around and stalked into his apartment building. After shutting the door and locking it, he slumped down on his couch, running a tired hand through his hair. Where had it all gone wrong? The night seemed to be moving smoothly, normally. They were content on talking about their just-finished case, and Angela's new boyfriend. Yet somewhere during that simple conversation he had to blurt out how he felt. Three words, and they seemed to ruin everything.

"Stupid, Seeley, you're so stupid!" He slammed a hand down on the coffee table in front of him. What had he been thinking? What possessed him to blurt out his biggest secret over fucking pie and coffee?! Why hadn't he been watching what he was doing, thinking about things before he said them? He hated to say his gut failed him, but for once it had. Maybe he should have listened to her for once and followed his brain, not his heart. If his brain had been working he would have listened to it.

Booth walked to the window and sighed loudly, pressing his forehead to the cool glass. His eyes followed the raindrops that slid down the window, and noticed that there was a small spot of fog from breathing. He took a finger and drew a heart into it and, suddenly feeling like a stupid teenage boy again, wiped it away with one swipe of his palm. He growled to himself and leaned his back up against the wall. He banged his head against it a couple times gently before sinking to the floor. He gently took a picture of her out of his wallet. "What have you done to me? Everything I thought I knew… " Booth looked up suddenly, well aware of what he needed to do.

Seconds, minutes passed; Soon the hour was gone. And all that was left was the picture of her on the coffee table, a quickly scratched note, and an echoing silence.

Temperance sat on her couch, a book in her lap. Her eyes tried to skim the sentences, but she couldn't manage to remember a single word she read. Frustrated she closed the book and sat it on her table quietly. Her fingers tapped on her jeans; She found it annoying. Slowly she rose and shuffled into her kitchen for a cup of coffee. She felt upset, but that was irrational. Her actions were justified – There was a line between the two of them and he had crossed it. Still, she couldn't fight the gnawing feeling deep in her stomach that told her something was wrong.

Her dreams as of late had been, emotional, to say the least. They were all different, but each and every one led to something similar, with the same man. The last one, especially, had been quite erotic. She couldn't deny that she was physically attracted to this man, but love? Absurd. Love wasn't rational. Yes, she had made a toast in the name of love, but her head was still attached to her shoulders, and she knew it was simply a chemical reaction. Sometimes she wanted to believe him, what he said about making love and being in love. But she had never experienced this before; How was that possible? She had been with many men, and while the sex was quite pleasurable, there certainly was nothing involving the molding of bodies, or any "earth movement". That was scientifically impossible, and in reality quite silly for a grown man to think such a thing could happen.

However, every time her mind told her it was foolish, her heart would skip a beat. She wanted desperately for him to show her was true love making was, something beyond simple sexual gain, and prove her wrong. But with every hope there was a drawback. Something forcing her to stay bolted to the ground, to keep her steady head. Every time she came close to asking him, something forced her to swallow her words.

This time was the worst.

It was just the two of them, sitting together at Temperance's kitchen table. Conversing and sharing jokes over coffee and pie, which she still hated, but kept around the house for Booth, since his visits to her home had been happening more frequently. She wanted to ask him to desperately to show her what he meant by "making love", and this time she would do it.

"Booth."

The man looked up, his fork in mid-air as he chewed on a piece of pie. "Mph?"

Temperance stood, walking over to him. She waited until he swallowed then pulled him up slowly. "I want you to show me."

Booth stuttered a little, licking his lips. "Show you what Bones?"

Temperance sighed softly. She pulled his head down and kissed his full, warm lips. She felt him stiffen, but slowly he warmed up to her kiss. His tongue invaded her mouth, exploring and tasting her. His hands went to her waist as he slowly walked her back against a wall. She wrapped her arms around his neck, fervently kissing back, using her tongue to lick and suck his bottom lip. Something was different… Warm. A spark lit deep in her belly and she felt her body shudder with pleasure. Booth pulled away slowly from the kiss and moved to her neck, gently kissing and sucking her skin. She heard herself moan and wondered if this was just the beginning. Already it was feeling different, deeper. A new sense of pleasure she didn't know existed.

Booth whispered into her ear, his warm breath hitting her. "I love you."

Instantly Temperance stiffened. Did he think she was doing this because she loved him, or was he simply expressing his own emotions? Either way she was sure he felt her hesitation, as he pulled back. "Bones?"

She said nothing, only looked away in silence. He tried to look into her eyes, but she couldn't force herself to say anything. Her "gut" was telling her to say something, anything, to put him at ease. But for once, nothing came to her mind. No words, not even scientific terms. Booth stepped back, and when she finally looked at him, it seemed he was broken. His back was hunched, his eyes to the floor, his arms limp at his sides.

Before her mouth could even attempt to sputter out anything, he had grabbed his coat and shut the door softly behind him.

She had wanted to put him to ease, but what would she have said? Her belly felt like it was in knots, twisting with every breath she took. She knew this was an illogical feeling, but something was pushing her to at least call him. But what would she say? What was love, really? What did love feel like, the love he had tried to explain to her so many times?

She needed to talk with him. Maybe he could explain to her what "love" felt like, and if what she was experiencing was close to it. But not now, it was too late. "In the morning," she decided softly. She turned the kitchen lights off and heading to bed, the full coffee mug on the counter forgotten.

End Chapter One! =] Reviews are great, especially for a first-time Bones writer! =D