Rain was coming down hard, rivers of droplets pouring down the windows and flooding the streets. The front door slammed shut and two soaked bodies stumbled through the dark hallway, wrestling themselves out of their coats which had proved useless against the cold downpour. The light in the hallway came on. The two bodies made their way into the livingroom, it wasn't any warmer there.

"Bones, you're shivering."

"I'm cold." Maybe shivering was an understatement. Her arms were wrapped around herself in an attempt to stay warm, goosebumps covered the length of her bare arms. Her mascara had run down her cheeks and the sight of her made him want to scoop her up and take her to bed to warm her up.

"I'll get you some dry clothes." When he passed the thermostat he turned up the heat and made his way to his bedroom. Two minutes later he came back, triumphantly showing his partner a FBI sweater and a pair of sweatpants. They'd turn out to be too big, but it was the best he could find.

She took them, thankful.

"You can change in my bedroom, maybe take a bath. I'll make us some coffee."

"Shouldn't you change? You'll catch a cold." She nodded toward the state of his clothes. His jacket was probably ruined and his shirt was see through. She tried not to pay too much attention to the way it clung to his chest; it wouldn't help the situation.

"Got some clothes here, I'll shower once you're done." Apparently satisfied with his answer she disappeared into his bedroom.

She took her time in the bathroom, soaking in the bath until the mirror had fogged up completely and every part of her body was warm again. When she found herself on the verge of falling asleep she knew it was time to get dressed and see if Booth had made her the promised hot coffee.

Ten minutes later she entered the livingroom. She could hear the sounds of the TV from the doorway and expected her partner to be lying comfortably on his couch, watching some football game. Therefore she was surprised to find him with his head in his hands, the two steaming mugs of coffee on the table in front of him remaining untouched.

"Booth?" His head snapped up and he looked at her his brown eyes a shade darker than usual. His look softened when he saw her and patted the empty couch next to him. She sat down.

"Are you okay?"

"Fine, Bones." His reassuring reply wasn't quite as reassuring as he wanted it to be.

"I'm sorry you had to kill someone today." Her hand was warm on top of his and he took hold of it, watching as he entwined his fingers with hers.

"Yeah you know – it's okay. He probably would've – if I hadn't." He didn't finish his sentence but it made sense to her. He was referring to her injury.

"It's just a cut, Booth. A superficial cut, it didn't even need suturing." He'd let go of her hand and brushed his fingers across the band-aid on her lower arm. It was just a superficial cut, but it didn't help him in getting over the fact that someone tried to hurt his partner. Again. It probably wouldn't even have happened if she'd just listened to him and stayed behind him, but when did she ever listen to him?

His fingers had traced past the band-aid and made their way further up the soft skin of her arm. She shivered, only slightly, but he felt it.

"It could've been worse." He told her with a dark voice.

"But it's not." She lay her hand over his to stop his fingers from making their torturous trail up to her bicep. He watched her, his eyes cast down looking at her hand, then slowly moving up until her blue eyes were staring back at him. Butterflies swarmed his stomach.

"Bones, I -" She put a finger to his lips and watched his adam's apple bob up and down as he swallowed. Her finger left his lips and her hand slid to the back of his neck, fingers in his close-cropped hair. She was leaning so close the scent of her vanilla perfume almost overwhelmed him. When she stopped leaning in and looked at him with those big beautiful blue eyes he realized that she needed him to cross the last ten per cent of the distance between their lips. And he did.