A/N: Thanks for all of the feedback...so happy to hear that you all are enjoying the story! And now...on to the rest of the first date...and the burning question of the day...will they? won't they? Hmmm...let's just say...hope you enjoy! - AnaG and Wills
"Angela is going to be so disappointed." Brennan said, looking over to the red dress carefully draped over the back of his sofa, and then down at the t-shirt she was wearing. The block letters spelling out 'ARMY' were faded, and the cotton worn, but she had to admit that she was much more comfortable than she had been in the dress.
"Yeah, I can only imagine." Booth said with a light chuckle. "But when Mother Nature decides it's time to rain...well. Not much we could do about that."
"Nothing has exactly gone according to plan has it?" she asked.
They both surveyed the makings of the makeshift picnic that Booth had arranged on his living room floor. Takeout cartons arranged on the blanket covering the carpet, a couple glasses of wine and a few strategically placed candles.
"But this is nice, isn't it?" he replied, his eyes meeting hers.
"Yes, it is." she said, looking around and smiling. She reached for her wineglass and in doing so her arm brushed against his, causing her to shiver slightly. She tilted her head to look at him, his breath caressing her face and her tongue darted out and licked her lips. Her hand was still reaching for the wineglass and her fingers touched it, causing it to fall over, wine spilling every where.
"Oh god." she said, hastily grabbing the glass. Sorry."
"No, it's okay." He reached to mop up the wine and knocked over a candle, which promptly lit the edge of the blanket on fire.
"Crap." Booth shouted as he grabbed his wineglass and doused the flames. Brennan hastily blew out the rest of the candles in order to avoid another incident.
"Sorry" she repeated, picking up the cartons and moving them out of the way.
"I'm just going to get a cloth." he replied, getting up and making his way to the kitchen. Or attempting to make his way, because he didn't get more than three steps before he slipped on the wine and crashed to the ground.
"Booth! Oh god, I am so..."
"Do not say that you are sorry." He said, teeth gritted.
"Then what can I do?" She asked, kneeling beside him. "Are you in pain?"
"Not really...ow! What are you..."
"Checking you for injuries, Booth." She stated matter-of-factly as her hands began to move over his body.
He started to pull away, not sure that he was exactly prepared for the sensations her touch was causing. But the truth was it felt good. Damn good.
"Um, Temperance?"
"Yeah, Booth?" She asked absently, caught up in her examination.
"There is one thing that you could do for me?"
"What? Heating pad? Aspirin?"
His hand encircled her wrist, bring her hand to a halt against his chest.
"Kiss it and make it better?"
A surge of arousal swept through her body unexpectedly as she leaned down and placed a soft kiss on his lips. The kiss grew hungry as his hands came around her waist and his tongue entered her mouth. There were sparks and it wasn't from the recent fire. He rolled her over so he was on top, not caring about the wine that had soaked a part of his pants. He did care however at the rain of DVD's and books that came showering down as they bumped his bookcase hard.
"Ow!" he growled as a book hit him square in the back of the head and tumbled beside him. He picked it up and looked at it. It was a copy of her latest book. Of course.
She giggled and squirmed underneath him, which definately wasn't helping his situation.
"What do you say we take this to the bedroom?" she asked.
He nodded. "At least there, disaster won't strike." he muttered. At least he hoped.
He slid off her and got up, reaching for her hand and helping her up as well. He heard her giggle and lifted an eyebrow in response.
She just began to chuckle harder and pointed to his butt.
He twisted around and groaned. Apparently, not only did he sit in wine, he ended up sitting in some Pad Thai too. Which was now unceremoniously clinging to his ass.
"Oh, god." He groaned. "I give up."
"Give up?" She asked, incredulous. She hadn't waited this long, gotten this close, to be done in by a puddle of merlot and a pile of noodles. "Booth, we do not give up."
"But...you have to admit...this isn't exactly the most romantic..."
"Romantic? Booth I don't need..."
"Maybe I do!" He said, not realizing how true the statement was until he heard the words coming out of his mouth. "Look. This is our first date and maybe...well maybe this is a sign we should slow things down a little..."
"Slow? Booth, we have been dancing around this for three years. I think that qualifies as slow. Glacial, in fact."
He studied her, saw the heat in her eyes, the unmistakable response all too visible through the cotton of the borrowed t-shirt.
"Well, when you put it that way..." He said, reaching for her hand, drawing her closer.
"I do..." The rest of her sentence, and pretty much all conscious thought, disappeared as his mouth settled on hers. As the kiss deepened, her hands moved over the hard planes of his chest, her arms sliding around his back. Temptation trumped whatever slivers of inhibition remained, and her hands descended lower.
She broke away from him, suddenly unable to maintain the kiss as a giggle escaped.
"What now?" He asked impatiently, his breath ragged.
She lifted her hand, a single noodle and a trace of sticky sauce clinging to it, transferred there during her...exploration.
"See!" He said, mortified. "I told you it was a sign. This is..."
"You're right. A sign."
"Wh-what?" He said, now suddenly dissappionted to hear her agreeing with him. Too bewildered by his own reaction, in fact, that he missed the impish tone in her voice.
"Yes, Booth. Perhaps a sign that we should get you out of these clothes?"
.
