Writing this story is so entertaining, I can't believe I didn't do it sooner. Booth and Bones are seriously one of the few T.V. couples whose writers have managed to make them absolutely perfect. There's House and Cuddy, Castle and Beckett, yadda yadda, but it doesn't get better than good ol' Booth and Bones!

"Yes, I know. I know, I'm sorry. Sure. When? Tonight? Why not next- fine. Okay. See you there."

Bones put her phone back down on the receiver angrily, stomping towards her sofa, taking a seat next to Booth.

"That was my publisher," she explained, "They got Andrea to lecture me. She's the worst."

"Is she angry you played hooky?"

"I don't know what that means, Booth."

"It's when- nevermind. Is she angry that you didn't go to that party last night?" he repeated, speaking slowly as to ensure the correct words escaped his mouth.

"Furious."

"Sorry about that."

"No, Booth, don't be sorry." Bones ran her hand down his cheek. "I would've chosen what happened yesterday over that party any day," she replied, grinning. Booth grinned back.

"But apparently there were a few people who had paid a lot to attend," she continued, "and since I wasn't there last night, Andrea wants to arrange a second one...tonight." She rolled her eyes. "They're such a bunch of stoffs."

"Stiffs, Bones."

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Anyways. Do you want to go with me?"

Booth looked surprised.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course, I'm sure, Booth," Bones replied, "If I wasn't, I wouldn't have asked you." She punched his shoulder playfully.

"Well, yeah, Bones, I'm flattered. I'd love to go with you."

"Great," Bones replied, smiling, "I imagine you'll have to go back to your place to get ready?" She eyed his suit vest that had unmistakable smudges of pancake syrup on it. Booth looked down sheepishly.

"Yeah."

Bones chuckled.

"It's at eight. Would you like me to pick you up?"

Booth shook his head.

"I'll come get you, say, seven fifteen?"

"Sure."

She kissed him, and patted his back as she led him to the door. The lingered in the doorway, touching, embracing, and Bones had to stifle a laugh as she spotted the rose Booth had gotten her the night before, still leaning comfortably against a photo of her and Russ when they were younger. He caught her looking at it.

"Didn't you like it?"

"I loved it, Booth," she replied as she kissed him one last time, squeezing his shoulders as she playfully shoved him out the door. He stepped out, turned back towards her, leaning against the door frame as he looked into her eyes.

"Booth, if you don't let me get ready, I'm going to have to get a restraining order against you."

Booth laughed and tipped himself forward suddenly, trying to kiss her again. She let him. There was some magnetism she had that captured him. Never had he found it so hard to leave someone, even it was only for a few hours. In that instant, he wanted to stay with her for an eternity, just talking, dining, loving. He tried desperately not to be clingy, but he really did love her.

"Can I come back in now?" Booth joked.

"Bye, Booth," replied Bones as she closed the door in his face.

"SEVEN FIFTEEN!" she heard him yell.

"DONE!" she yelled back.

Man, she loved that guy.

At six forty three, Brennan heard a knock on her door. Hastily turning off her shower and wrapping herself in her robe, she walked towards it, perhaps just a little too eagerly. Pulling it open, she saw Booth's figure.

"Booth, you're early," she said in an unhappy tone, "I had to cut my shower short." She furrowed her eyebrows in slight irritation.

"Well, you could've stayed in the shower, and let whoever was outside wait," he pointed out knowingly. It made him feel better that she wanted him just as much as he craved her. Bones blushed.

Suddenly the two were frenzied lovers with nothing holding them back. Bones' hands roamed across Booth's chest, pounding and pressing. Their tongues danced, fighting for control, and Booth's hands squeezed her waist, occasionally resting them on her hips. Her nails dug into his back, and sporadically each would elicit a squeal. Their hearts thudded in excitement. Booth bent down, scooping her up with one hand beneath her knees, the other on her back, and lifted her towards the couch. He placed her on it, hovering on top of her. Their kissing continued, more frantic and needing each second until a phone call interrupted their passion.

Booth groaned.

"Was that mine or yours?" he asked, running a frustrated hand through his hair.

"Mine," Bones replied as she flipped open her cell.

"Hello? Oh, Andrea. Seven thirty now? Fine. Thanks for calling. Bye."

She put down the phone and stood up, evidently on her way back to her room.

"The party's been moved a little earlier," Bones began, "We have to leave in a couple minutes. I'll be right out."

She raced to her bedroom, shutting the door behind her. How did that just happen? What happened to taking it slow? Not that she didn't thoroughly enjoy herself, but was she ready? Was he ready?

Savoring the few minutes of solitude she had, she quickly blow dried her hair, opting for looser curls than she had worn last night. Her red dress seemed too special to wear to such an event, considering what had happened when she last had it on, so she picked out a dark blue one from her closet. It had a high waisted belt, and she had the perfect black pumps to match.

Walking out the door, fully primped, and a little nervous, she did a twirl.

"How do I look?"

Booth stared in awe.

"You look...you look beautiful, Bones."

She stood, smiling for a moment, before rushing to the counter to grab her purse.

"We're late, Booth, let's go. Your car, or mine?"

He raised his eyebrows.

"Wouldn't you like to roll into that party in a big, black, bulletproof, tinted-window, detachable siren SUV?" he asked, "You know, raise some eyebrows, squish some squinty egos?"

She stared at him.

"Mine, Bones."

"Okay."

She quickly turned the lights off in her apartment and met him at the door. He extended his arm.

"Shall we?"

She took it, grinning.

"We shall."

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