AN: Hello, this is my first Bones fic. Hope you like it. I don't own Bones, everything belongs to FOX. I've been reading Bones stories for a while and so have decided to try my hand at writing one.

Booth was brooding, no, more like sulking. He made his way out of the front doors of the Jeffersonian and strode to his SUV with the attempted appearance of purposefulness. What did she mean when she said that the truth fell far, far short of fiction? So maybe he didn't graduate from Harvard, maybe he didn't speak six different languages, but he was damn good at his job!

Why did she do this to him? Booth was never one to doubt himself; in fact some might call him over-confident. All one really had to do was read his 'cocky' belt buckle to know that Booth took pride in many of his good qualities. He considered himself a good person, well, nobody's perfect, but he tried. He loved his son, was civil (usually) to Rebecca, and hell, he hadn't shot Zach . . . yet. He knew he was good at his job: the multitude of medals was ample proof, not to mention that he and Bones were possibly the greatest crime fighting team in the history of the FBI. And yet she could make him feel like he was only half an inch tall.

Booth never had trouble attracting women, or at least impressing them with his kindness and the body that he worked so hard to maintain. Go figure that the one time he actually wanted to impress a woman, he just couldn't seem to be able to do anything right. Did she admire anything about him? She made a valiant effort today when she asked if he was good at bowling, but he knew she didn't really care.

He kicked at a rock and sent it flying into the grass beside the parking lot.

B b B b

Brennan climbed into Booth's vehicle after Warren's funeral and buckled herself in as she watched Booth finish his conversation with Warren's parents. He was so good with people. She watched him all the time, tried to emulate his amazing ability to read people and understand them, often times knowing exactly what they needed and wanted to hear right when they needed to hear it. Yes, sometimes he did stretch the truth, but he was right when he said, back during their first case, that some people deserve the kindness of a lie.

She, on the other hand, despaired of ever being able to actually get along with normal people. He put it quite eloquently when he asked her earlier at Capital Bowl if for once she would try not to piss everyone off around her. She sighed as she realized that even he, deep down, thought that she just made people uncomfortable and angry. He made an effort with her and she really appreciated it, but it was only because they worked together.

She watched as he hugged Warren's Mom and momentarily caught herself wondering what it would feel like to be in those arms. She shook her head quickly to rid herself of her unpartenerlike thoughts. It didn't appear so to anyone, but she really did want Booth to think well of her. He was a good man and she knew that while she might be a genius and a very eloquent writer, what did that count with someone who cared and valued people for who they were inside?

She watched Booth as he walked slowly back to the SUV and climbed in beside her, casting a sad smile in her direction.

Neither felt like going home so Booth made a detour and headed towards the diner. He held the door open for Brennan as she walked by with a small 'thank you.' He caught the scent of her perfume as she brushed by him and swallowed a sigh as he followed her towards their usual seat. She looked at him closely before speaking.

"You know, I think I understand. I mean, you telling people what they need to hear. People deserve to be happy. I know that I always say that they deserve the truth, but Warren's mother loved him and why leave her in misery? Why not tell her what she wants to hear? Right?"

"Yeah, but you're right too. People do deserve the truth; they might just not be ready to hear it."

She regarded him apprehensively. "I just need to know something."

"Sure, anything."

"Do you ever do that with me? Tell me something just to make me feel better. I know today you asked why don't I try not to make everyone around me angry and I just want you to know that I try, I really do. I don't always know how to say the right thing, like you, but I really do try."

Booth ran a hand over his face and felt his stomach sink as he remembered his words from earlier. "Bones, I didn't really mean that."

"See, you're doing it, you're lying to me right now. You did mean it."

"Okay, maybe I did, but I do know you try and I do know that with every case we have, you get better at being discreet and understanding that our cases are about the people too." He offered her a smile which she returned hesitantly. "And that is not a lie. I was just kind of put out that . . . this sounds so childish . . . well, you didn't appreciate something that I was good at and that I'm kind of proud of."

"Really? Why would you even care what I thought about bowling even if it is something you enjoy? What do I know about it" she regarded him curiously.

"Bones, you know you know everything. No reason though," he said quickly, immediately regretting his admission.

"No, not 'no reason', you're lying again. Why did it matter?" She felt her stomach flutter a little as she thought that maybe he did value her opinion beyond her ability to know how tall their latest murderer was.

He sighed, might as well say it. "Because I care what you think Bones. Don't you know that? I care what you think of me."

She stared at him speechless. She couldn't breathe when he was looking at her the way he was, like hers was the only opinion of him that mattered.

"Why did you get so angry though? Do you think that I don't think well of you? That I don't have a good opinion of you?"

"Well, I mean, why should you? You've seen me lose it and I'm never too quick on the uptake. We don't always get along and . . . "

She cut him off as she placed her hand on his. She swallowed hard and appeared to Booth to be psyching herself up for something; he had never seen her look so insecure.

"You don't know what that means to me Booth," she said as she blushed and looked down at her hands. "You have to know . . . that you really are the best man I know. You're kind, you care about people and no matter what you say, you're not stupid. You're good at your job and, well, you make an effort with me and that means a lot."

He just stared at her and words couldn't describe how he felt. Shakespeare said that silence was the greatest herald of joy and Booth was living proof, he couldn't form any words, but a grin the size of D.C. spread across his face.

Brennan was still staring into her coffee cup. "I'm sorry I shot you down today when I said that truth fell far, far short of fiction."

"Yeah, that kinda hurt."

She looked at him guiltily. "I didn't mean it and I will tell you, but just so you know, I'll deny it if anyone asks me . . ." then she mumbled something that Booth couldn't hear.

"Sorry, didn't catch that," he said as he leaned in closer.

"I said . . . that it kind of is you that I imagine when I write Andy Lister. There, I said it, but like I said, you tell anyone and I'll deny it!"

Booth chuckled. "Even if I don't speak six languages or box at an international level?"

Brennan rolled her eyes. "Since we're being honest, I just wanted to say that I value your opinion very highly as well."

"Thanks Bones," he smiled at her and she blushed again.

A comfortable silence fell over the partners as their meals came and they settled in to eat, neither realizing just how hungry they were. Booth knew it had been a while since the last time Brennan ate. She really needed to take better care of herself. He glanced across the table at her as she took a bite of her salad and thought again about how lucky he was to have someone, more specifically, to have her think so well of him. Her question still echoed though, why did he care so much? She caught his gaze and gave him one of the most beautiful smiles he'd ever seen before turning back to her meal. His heart stopped and in that moment he realized, he was absolutely head over heals in love with her. He thought about the other important people in his life, parents, Jared. Really, it was only her who he wanted approval from, it was in her eyes only that he wanted to see pride and appreciation and now it was from her lips only that he wanted to hear the emotions that he currently felt coursing through his body. He didn't realize he was staring at her until he caught her looking at him strangely.

"What?" she asked, shifting uncomfortably under his gaze, but unable to break eye contact.

"Nothing," he said quickly, realizing that he was unconsciously about to vocalize his epiphany. "You done?"

"Yeah, let's go."

He paid and they headed out again. It was a nice night and all he could think about was how much he didn't want their evening together to end. He saw her glance at him and he knew that she too accepted the knowledge that with their admissions tonight, that something had changed.

"Hey, want to take advantage of this lovely weather, maybe take a walk?" he looked at her hopefully.

She was about to tell him that she had a mountain of paper work when she looked into his optimistic gaze and her resolve to head back to the Jeffersonian melted away. "Yeah," she said quietly," I'd love to."

They began to walk down the street, not saying anything; both of them lost in thought. Brennan glanced over at Booth and was surprised at how content he looked. He stopped suddenly and his expression changed. His peaceful countenance turned to one of determination and he stopped quickly. Her gaze flew to his, wondering what was wrong.

"What, Booth, why are we stopping?

"Because I just realized that there is something very important that I need to do and I really need to do it now." He looked right at her and her confusion only heightened.

"Yeah, sure, we can head back . . . "She was cut off as he grabbed her shoulders his lips closed over hers. Her breath stopped as did any motor or brain function that she had previously had power over. Before she had time to respond he pulled away.

"Oh my God," he said, as a look of horror passed over his face. "I can't believe I just did that. I'm so sorry Bones. . please . . . I don't know what came over me, I. . . "

Brennan was still recovering herself when she realized that he was apologizing, and not very well either. Slowly a smile spread across her face and her hand made its way to her lips. She turned to him and cut him off, pressing her finger to his mouth.

"Booth, normally you know the right thing to say and as I said, that is one of the many things I like about you, but right now you really need to stop talking."

With that she put her arms around his neck and crashed her lips against his. He responded immediately, putting his arms around her waist and pulling her against him. The emotion he felt the first time he kissed her was overshadowed by the tidal wave of feeling brought on by the second. He held her impossibly close and reveled in the feeling of her soft lips against his as his tongue ran across her lower lip, begging entrance. This she willingly granted as their tongues explored each other's mouths and Booth felt a chill run up his spine as she whimpered into his mouth. They parted and he planted one last kiss on her lips before leaning his forehead against hers.

Brennan too confirmed Shakespeare's theory as she just stared into Booth's eyes; the normally articulate author unable to form any words, let alone thoughts. Finally her brain began working again, but still all that she could manage was: "Wow."

"You said it," chuckled Booth as he kissed her slowly again before taking her hand in his and proceeding to walk back up the street towards his SUV.

She regarded him with wonder and a goofy grin spread over her face.

"At the risk of sounding incredibly corny, I now have another talent to add to your long list of excellent qualities. You are a very good kisser."

He put his arm around her shoulders and tucked her into his side.

"Gee, thanks Bones, you're not so bad yourself. Now that I know that you base your FBI Agent on me when it comes to his astounding ability to read people and do his job, I think that there is a certain aspect of Andy and Kathy's relationship that needs to be proven better in real life than on paper."

Brennan shoved him off the sidewalk.

I've been psyching myself up for a while to do this, so please let me know what you think! Be honest, I'd really like to improve my writing.