I'm ba-ack, and I've made it out of my slump! (yay, me!) I wanted to thank all of you who've stuck with this completely random series right from the get-go and all of you who reviewed. Also, special props to Coilerfan35 who has given me great feedback and more confidence about this series than I could ever hope to get. I owe ya, girl.

Per Robert Modean's request, I advise my readers not to drink anything while they are reading because things do get a little out of hand in my world of words between Booth and Brennan and I don't realize the extent of my own humorous statements. Well, without further ado…

Chapter One:

"Hey Bren, I got that facial reconstruction done for you." Angela stuck her head into her best friend's office to see her brooding over her computer. "You wanna come check it out?"

Brennan's head snapped up to attention, obviously coming out of a trance, "I'm sorry, Ange, what did you say?" she rubbed her eyes.

She looked in on the forensic anthropologist to see that she'd obviously been thinking about something prior to her appearance. Angela had been ecstatic when Brennan told her that she and Booth had finally made that tiny little leap into a deeper relationship that her squeal had echoed all throughout the lab, earning her several quizzical looks over the following days. She didn't care, at least Brennan would finally be happy. But for right now, she looked anything besides happy.

"What's wrong with you, Brennan? You've been acting kinda weird since you told me about you and Agent Stud-Muffin." She rubbed her friend's shoulder while she buried her head in her hands again.

"It's nothing. I just haven't been sleeping very well lately." Brennan explained in hushed voice.

"If you're not sleeping because of it, it's not nothing. Spill." Angela made herself comfortable on the edge of Brennan's desk.

"It's…difficult to explain." Brennan brought her arms around to hold herself in the freezing lab air. Winter was a harsh month on the squints since that particular wing of the Jeffersonian was the farthest away from the central heater.

"When have I found anything hard to believe?" she pointed out.

This made Brennan chuckle, "That's true." She met Angela's eyes, which were obviously waiting patiently for her to continue. "I realized last night that this is the longest I've ever gone without… consummating a relationship."

"You mean…you and Booth haven't…?" she trailed off.

"No," Brennan finished for her, picking up on her intention.

"Wow." Angela laughed slightly, "I thought you two would've made like bunnies by now."

"I don't know what that means." Brennan deadpanned.

She hung her head at how hard it was to communicate with her best friend. "Bren, what have I told you before? You want something to happen, you have to make it happen."

Brennan looked up into the brown eyes that reminded her so much of Booth's, "And how exactly do I do that?"

A short knock at her glass door had them both turning their attention to a delivery man, holding roughly two dozen red and pink heart-shaped balloons and a giant stuffed tie-dyed teddy bear. "Delivery for Temperance Brennan." he said. Brennan groaned as she signed for it while scouring the lab for any pairs of eyes that dared to show amusement.

Angela only giggled, "Hodgins is right, love is in the purified and ionized lab air."

The delivery guy skipped out as Brennan returned to her office, walking awkwardly with the three-foot tall rainbow fluff ball banging against the front of her legs as she went.

"Please tell me there's a card, sweetie." Angela was barely biting back her laughter at the sight of her friend's present. Brennan found it pinned to the bears bow-tie and ripped it open in one fast move.

"'Know you hate the holiday, but I couldn't resist when I saw it. Yours truly, Seeley.'" Brennan read and Angela 'awed' at the cuteness of it all. "What holiday is he talking about?"

"Don't you know what day it is, Bren? It's February 14th…Valentine's Day?" she asked.

"Oh, right, that is today, isn't it?" Brennan said in a non-caring tone.

Angela looked at her like she'd grown a second head that was singing opera. She knew Brennan's distaste for most holidays, saying they were just like ordinary days, save for Independence Day, she said that had a point.

"Bren, listen to me very closely. You have a man now, and not just any man, a top-dog of men. If you're looking for a way to get the ball in motion, this is a perfect set-up." she said carefully, enunciating each syllable so she wouldn't miss anything.

"Assuming that by 'top-dog' you mean 'alpha-male', I agree with you vehemently, but you lost me when you started talking about spherical objects." Brennan fixed the bow-tie on the bear. She had to admit, he was really soft and fuzzy.

She sighed, "My poor Bren." Angela got up, walked to Brennan's coat rack, and threw her street jacket towards her. "It's our lunch hour, grab your coat, we're going shopping." she stated. Brennan was left without room to object.

"What are we going shopping for?" Brennan followed her friend.

"I'll tell you when we get there." Angela wasn't about to give up that she was taking her friend to a certain store that specialized in 'secret' apparel.

* * *

Booth sat at his desk, wondering if Brennan had received his little surprised yet. He would've killed to see her face when the FedEx guy went traipsing through the lab with heart balloons and a rainbow bear. He should've asked Hodgins to record the moment that would forever be in his memory. It would be great to replay over and over again to her agitation.

It was slowly reaching three o'clock. He had more than two hours to go until he could clock out for the day. It also seemed like murders had taken the holiday off. No new cases had come across Booth's desk and the Squints were happily buzzing about their lab with bones and goo that needed to be examined.

So Booth sat at his desk, throwing a tennis ball he kept in his drawer against the wall he kept blank for that one purpose. He hardly heard the soft chirp of his cell phone in his pocket alerting him to a text message. 'Huh, it's from Bones. She must miss me.' he thought smugly to himself as he hit read.

"My place, 8:30." was what short message said. This sent Booth's thoughts reeling in all different directions at once. Like any typical man, Booth went on instinct and did the first thing that came to his mind.

"What happens at ur place at 8:30?" he typed as fast as his impaired texting skills would allow him. He could hardly go at two words a minute, so the process took him longer than it would've taken Brennan to. Booth always asked her to text for him and marveled at her speedy fingers each time she would say 'done' after thirty seconds when she'd just typed a paragraph.

He stared at the insipid piece of technology, waiting for it to chime its happy bells again with a new message. Booth sat there for five solid minutes before it dinged. He grabbed it excitedly and read.

"You'll see."

'You'll see?! What the hell's that supposed to mean?!' he shouted internally before a slightly dim-witted idea entered his brain.

"what will I see?" He laughed a little. He knew Brennan was NOT good at mind games by any stretch, but this was a little simple, even for her. Not five seconds had gone by when he got the two-word response he'd been expecting.

"You'll see."

Ugh, sometimes this woman could be really irritating. Why would she send that at three o'clock?

'Something must've wormed it's way into that gigantic, beautiful brain. Probably of Angela's doing, no doubt. Well, if she's got something stewing in her head, I can dish it out, too." Booth grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair and dashed towards the florist. If he was lucky, he might be able to wean out two dozen roses. An even better idea came when he thought about daffodils.

* * *

Brennan's Apartment: 8:00 p.m.

Angela had just left to plot her own Valentine's Day which Hodgins had probably already taken care off. When they'd gotten back from shopping, Brennan spent almost three hours sitting in her bathroom while her 'supposedly' best friend subjected her to numerous tortures involving hair and make-up. When she'd ask a question about what she was rubbing into her hair, Angela only smiled and told her not to worry about it. Brennan didn't even get a chance to look at herself in the mirror. After a while, Angela hopped up and told her to tell her everything tomorrow morning.

Now, alone with her own thoughts, she decided to prepare herself for whatever she looked like. She breathed deeply before she picked up her head to face the mirror. Brennan was rather surprised at what she found. Her auburn hair had been twisted into soft, gentle curls that framed her face. Brennan could also distinct a small touch of mascara to enhance her already-radiant eyes and clear lip gloss.

'All that took three hours? Ugh, what a waste of time.' she thought. It looked really good, but not three hours worth good.

Brennan moved onto what she and Angela had picked out for the evening. It was a simple red number with thin straps and came down to about mid-thigh. She only let Angela see it on her that once in the dressing room of the store, and decided to wait until she left to put it on.

She changed and tied her warm, plaid robe around the nightgown and had just dabbed some of her expensive perfume. It was the one of the two that Booth liked better. She lit the candles that Angela had strategically placed on each surface of her bedroom when she heard a knock at her door. 'Huh, he's early.'

"Coming!" she called to who she thought was Booth. When she opened the door, however, she was in for one big shock.

"Hi, Tempe." the man said cheerily.

'Oh, God, no. Why him? Why tonight? Why here? Why does this kind of crap always happen to me?!' Brennan shouted inside her own head.

"Sully…"

I know, I know, you're mad at the cliffy. But guys, if I didn't write the cliffy, there's a chance you might not stay tuned for the next chapter. Trust me, you're not gonna wanna miss the next chapter. Or maybe you do. It all depends on how many reviews I get, so hit that green button, my friends...