Spoilers/Timeline: None/Set in future; B&B are in an established relationship.
A/N: Many thanks to hpaich for plot feedback and SSJL for the look over!
Disclaimer: Bones still doesn't belong to me. Title found in the Josh Turner song Why Don't We Just Dance.
She stirred the corn and, for the third time that morning, cursed Amy for giving birth to little Violet Nicole so recently. Preparing Thanksgiving dinner would never have fallen to her otherwise.
But it had and she was determined to get it right. Even going as far as having trial meals weeks ahead of time. If Booth saw one more bowl of stuffing (the only dish truly giving her problems) she feared she'd end up wearing it.
She opened the oven, quickly peeking at the offending dish. It seemed to be fine at the moment. However, experience had taught her that anything could happen in the last twenty minutes of baking.
In an uncharacteristic move, she crossed her fingers and hoped it wouldn't, that Booth's initial suggestion they all just go to a local restaurant for dinner ("Plus, no dishes to clean up, Bones") was easily as dismissed after they ate.
She grinned, remembering how his look of caution - teasing - had morphed into support when he realized that, like with any other challenge presented to her, she wasn't about to back down.
"The table," she almost dropped the pot she was holding as his voice invaded her thoughts, his arms wrapping around her waist, "is set."
"Good, they should be here soon and I wouldn't have the time to do it myself."
"Well, no worries, it's done and Parker is finishing the relish tray like you asked, though," he rested his chin on her shoulder, thumbs brushing over her hips, "I think half the chips might be gone by the time he's finished."
She smiled, turning off the burner the potatoes were on. "He's an adolescent boy; his appetite isn't easily sated. Though I would prefer he snack on the carrots or even some pepperoni instead..."
"Just be glad he hasn't spotted the pumpkin pie yet."
"I'm glad you haven't found all the pie yet."
"There's more pie? What kind?"
"There might be an apple pie hidden behind the soy milk."
"You're amazing." He kissed her neck, pulling her closer as he began to sway.
"I can be quite surprising." She allowed herself to move with him for a moment before leaning forward to open the oven.
"Looks good." The door slammed shut as he quickly pulled her back into his embrace, teeth nipping at her earlobe.
"It does, but, Booth, the corn, the gravy, the stuffing..."
"It's fine." He tugged on her wrist, turning her so they were facing each other. "You can," his lips brushed across her jaw, "take a," and over her cheek, "a break," before covering hers.
Sighing, she sucked at his bottom lip, her arms falling over his shoulders as she followed the tempo he'd set... the only person she ever allowed to lead her...
His hands swept down her spine, settling low on her back as her head fell to his chest. "Your vegetable lasagna looks pretty good, too, but," the words muffled in her hair and he paused to tuck a strand of it behind her ear before planting a kiss on her forehead, "but I know you're going to steal a piece of turkey from my plate anyway."
"I always do, don't I?" She closed her eyes, reveling in the moment, the way he was gently moving them around any obstacles in the room.
"You do," he laughed low in her ear, "it's practically tradition."
"Mmhmm." Her hands twisted in the hair at the base of his neck as they came to a stop in front of the stove. "Thanks." The rest of the statement went unspoken as her mouth covered his and she turned, rummaging through the utensils on the counter. "Now, can you mash the potatoes so I can watch the beans and the turkey?"
He didn't answer, just began smashing the vegetables and she felt her mouth lift, an incredible warmth washing over her as she watched her brother's car pull up and felt Booth's hip bump hers. She pressed her lips to the corner of his mouth before opening the oven and pulling out the steaming stuffing.