A/N Merry Christmas kids! Do you have any idea how hard it is to write about dancing? I'm not a dancer, so I have no idea how to describe the steps, so hopefully I haven't messed this up too bad! I'm kind of not sure about this one, it's maybe not my best – or maybe I've been working on it too long and I'm skewed? I just got to the point where I don't really know what to do with it. Who knows! Anyway, enjoy! And have an excellent festive season :)

"What are we doing here, Booth?"

"Just wait and see, Miss Impatient!" He took her by the hand and pulled her through his front door and into the living room. "Make yourself at home."

He took off his jacket, rolled up his shirt sleeves and loosened his tie. Temperance just stood awkwardly before him and watched, unsure of what to do herself. He handed her a beer, although he thought he probably should have brought something a little more refined for the type of evening he had planned. "I figured I'd have to loosen you up a bit before I could teach you anything."

"Teach me what?"

He smirked, and she knew immediately she was going to regret asking. He took a long swig from his beer bottle before he turned to face her. "How to dance," he replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Why?"

"Because you said you liked dancing, but you didn't know how."

"No, I said I liked to watch professional dancers. Or native, tribal dancers, if we're talking anthropology. I have no inclination to try it myself." The truth was, she had always wanted to be one of those people with natural rhythm, who could find the beat in any song and just let themselves go. In reality, she found it too difficult to relax enough for that. And she had never had a willing partner, who wasn't afraid of getting their toes stamped on. She thought that some people (Sweets for one) would probably describe her reluctance to dance as a fear of intimacy, not wanting to get too close to anyone for any length of time, but she didn't put too much stock in that particular theory.

"Well, I'm going to teach you anyway. It's character building."

She scowled at him and muttered her reply as he pulled her further into the room. "My dad used to say that when he was making me do housework…"

"OK… Arms." He gestured for her to hold her arms out, and sighed when she did. "I didn't mean scarecrow-style. Like this." She copied his stance as he turned the stereo on, and suddenly felt very self-conscious as he stepped towards her, taking her raised hand with one of his and putting the other at her waist. "Ready?"

"Woah, wait, what am I meant to do?"

"You dance. You know, move your feet in time to the music?"

"But you haven't taught me any steps!"

"That's a bit advanced for you just yet, for now we're just going to feel the music and go with it, right?" Her blank expression made him realise this wasn't going to be as easy as he thought. "Just do what I do, OK?"

Although she hated being told what to do, she decided to humour him – he seemed to enjoy the fact that he was better than her at something, and as much as it pained her, she would let him have his moment. She moved her feet back when he moved his forward, she stepped to the side when he did, and they both swayed in time to the music – well, Booth swayed, Temperance was just being pulled along by him.

"Where did you learn to dance anyway?"

"My mom ran a dance studio in Pittsburgh. When I was a kid she made me take lessons because she thought it would make me a well-rounded man, rather than letting me just take boxing lessons like I wanted to. Then, when I got older, I'd hang around trying to meet girls, but most of the time I just ended up making coffee for all the old women that were there doing ballroom dancing."

"I bet they loved you," she said, failing to keep the laughter from her voice.

"They did. I've never had my cheeks pinched so much since… among other places…" He tried to block the memory from his mind, and quickly decided it would be best to change the subject. "So, you never took dance classes as a kid? I always had you pegged as a prima ballerina-wannabe."

"No, I was never interested in anything like that. Although there was a time when I wanted to learn to tap dance. And when I was much younger my mother and I would sometimes dance in the kitchen, just for fun of course, nothing serious." She looked up at him almost apologetically, and added, "I was never any good."

"Well, you seem to be doing fine to me. Very graceful."

"In case you hadn't noticed, I was letting you lead."

He rolled his eyes. "That's the whole point, Bones. Don't let's make this a gender-roles debate, but the guy is supposed to lead."

"Stop trying to distract me, this takes a lot of concentration."

The danced a little longer, until the song ended. Booth stopped her and handed her another beer, taking one for himself as well. "Alright, so I think we've mastered swaying, so now lets try moving around a bit more."

"Move where?"

"You know, around. Like over there," he nodded in a vague direction, and turned back to her. "You've seen people do the Tango, haven't you? Like this." He held her a little closer to him, straightening them both up as he did so. "This is called a closed dance position. So, starting on your right leg, all you basically have to do is walk with me in time with the music. Think you can do that?"

"Very funny."

"OK, here we go."

He instructed her to copy his movements again, and before they had even taken two steps, Temperance's feet were tangled in his and she crashed to the floor, bringing him down with her. "Hey!" she yelled indignantly as he landed on top of her.

"Hey yourself! Why didn't you let go instead of dragging me down here?"

"Because I was trying not to fall! I thought you might catch me!"

"Who falls over when they're dancing, anyway?"

"Someone with two left feet… Metaphorically speaking, of course."

"You don't have two left feet, you do were doing pretty well until then," he replied, pulling himself up and straightening his shirt. "Wanna keep going?"

"No, that's OK. Thanks for trying to teach me, though." She let him help her up, and went to finish her beer. She had plenty of work she could be doing at home anyway.

"Yeah, maybe you're right. Maybe dancing just isn't for you."

You whipped round to stare at him. "What?"

"Well, you know, it's OK to give up if something is difficult."

"I'm not giving up because it's difficult, I just don't want to end up on the floor again!"

"Well, I can't promise anything, but I'll try. Come on." He held his hand out to her and she stepped towards him once more. "We'll go slower this time, OK?" He listened for the beat of the music, counting out loud to help her along, and encouraged her forwards. He moved easily and led her effortlessly, but she still felt like she was being pulled along, not really feeling confident in her movements yet.

"I'm just not getting it, am I? When am I ever going to need to know how to dance anyway?"

"You never know, Bones, what if we have to go undercover at a dance school?"

"The likelihood of that happening is pretty remote. And if we were undercover at a dance school, couldn't we pose as beginners?"

"You're putting a little too much thought into that. Put some of that brain power behind you steps and you'll be on fire. Now, the Tango is a passionate dance, so you have to really connect. I know you can be pretty disconnected sometimes, but I think that's where we went wrong last time." He chuckled at the memory of his partner hitting the floor, but then winced at the memory of hitting the floor himself. He'd just have to hold her tighter this time.

When they had successfully danced across the room with no injury, he twirled her round. "Good job, Bones!" he praised. "See, practice makes perfect!"

"Well, I guess I have a good teacher. But when you said it was OK to quit, was that some kind of reverse psychology?"

"Alright, you got me. But it worked, didn't it?"

He dipped her backwards, but she simply scowled at him and replied, "I hate psychology."