A/N: I'm glad everyone enjoyed Christopher in the last chapter. And again, thank you for taking the time to leave a review.

A single star was in the night sky when Booth exited his SUV. This time of year the sun set early and it felt like midnight when it was only early evening. In his hand was takeout, fresh from the place they used to frequently order from.

He hadn't called first and they didn't have a case he could use as an excuse. Done with making up reasons to see her, he'd made the decision to purchase food and show up at her apartment. It never occurred to him that she might not be home. She'd always been there when he needed her. And right now, he needed to spend time with his partner and friend.

Too much time had been lost between them and he wasn't missing another moment. Take out after work was what they did. Or at least what they used to do. Even when all hope for the two of them seemed lost, he'd enjoyed the quiet moments when it was just the two of them and the rest of the world disappeared. It was something he was going to recapture.

Hearing her feet move across the apartment immediately after his knock settled some of the nerves that hadn't totally dissipated. She always knew when he was the one outside her door. The fact she hadn't hesitated to come answer reassured him.

"I was just thinking about ordering something," she said, opening the door wider to let him in. "I lost track of time while writing. Not unusual when I work. Let me get my laptop off the table so we can eat."

"How's your newest novel coming?" he asked, closing and locking the door behind him. While she never let him read the books early, despite his continued requests, he usually had a general idea of how the story was progressing. Another thing he'd let slide for too long.

While he'd read and enjoyed her last book, the romantic scenes between her two main characters had made him uncomfortable in ways he hadn't wanted to analyze. Looking back now, it was clear why he'd struggled to read them.

"Slowly," she admitted. The frustration with her writing was obvious, at least to him. "It's missing something." Shaking her head, Brennan shut down the computer and moved it to a counter. "But I think I figured it out tonight."

As her connection to Booth had frayed, so had her ability to write the fictional couple. The investigation portion of the novel had been easy. It was the character's relationship to each other she'd struggled with.

Tonight, she finally felt like she was back on the right track. And Brennan knew, whether she liked it or not, that a large part of that was due to the man watching her from the other side of the table.

Distracted by the way she moved, the fact that he was in her apartment again, Booth caught himself staring. Blinking hard, he placed the food on the table. "Napkins and plates still in the same place?"

"It has been awhile," she commented, but her voice was level. To her, it was just a statement of fact, not anything with hidden meaning. "But nothing has been moved around." She looked around, her eyes landing on her small collection of holiday decorations. "I think those are the only changes," she said, motioning in that direction. Was that a sign of stability or a sad reflection on how little she'd allowed things in her life to change?

It took a trip across the world and a long term separation from one of the most important people in her life for Brennan to decide she wasn't going to live that way anymore.

Brushing past her to get the supplies, he caught the scent of her shampoo mixed with the lotion she always used when her work day was done. Physically, he'd been home for months. For the first time, it actually felt like he was.

"Are you enjoying the tree?" Booth asked, grabbing what they needed and joining her at the table. She was dressed in comfortable pants and a loose fitting sweatshirt. He was a little disappointed to see it wasn't one he'd given to her. Or that she'd stolen from him.

Her head tilted. "It's a plant, Booth. I suppose I'm enjoying the fact that it is increasing the levels of oxygen in my apartment. And the scent of pine is nice."

Chuckling, Booth reached for a takeout box of food. "No, Bones. Is it reminding you of the season? Does it make you think of Christmas when you see it?" Does it make you think of me? he added in his head, recalling her words when they were shopping.

Turning to where the tree sat, Brennan considered the questions. Then shrugged. "It's just a tree, Booth. But," she continued, feeling as if the answer disappointed him somehow, "it is nice to have a decoration. Even if it's a simple one."

"If it makes you happy, Bones, there isn't anything simple about it." Low and passionate, the sound of his voice made her skin tingle.

Their eyes met and something sparked between them. Booth swallowed hard, not sure he dared to read exactly what was in her eyes, afraid of being both wrong and exactly right.

"No," she agreed, moving her eyes back down to her plate. "There is nothing simple about what makes me happy. I'm discovering that isn't always a bad thing."

The man across from her was anything but simple. At times, he was brave to the point of recklessness. His stubbornness was only matched by hers. Logic said the passion they felt for each other during that first case should have flared and faded.

Yet, he still remained the only man she'd ever let past her defenses. And she was no longer afraid to admit he was the only one she ever would.

"Bones. Temperance." He said her given name softly, knowing there wasn't a better time to ask her a question. Because the food hadn't been the only reason he'd come. "Can I ask you something?"

Lifting her eyes again, she put down her fork and gave him her full attention. If was often unnerving, being the focus of that gaze. Nervous, Booth toyed with his napkin for a minute before taking a deep breath. "The FBI Christmas banquet is coming up. The fancy one that the heads of departments get invited to."

Brennan nodded. "Are you planning to attend this year? Usually you hate that sort of thing."

"Well, that hasn't changed," he said with a laugh. "But, I was planning on going this year." He rubbed a hand along the back of his neck. "I was wondering if you would like to attend with me?"

Confused by the nervous signs he was showing, she continued to study him. Not wanting to read anything into the request, she gave a careful answer. "I would be happy to attend as your partner, Booth."

She started to go back to eating when his voice stopped her. "No, Bones, that's not what I'm asking."

"Oh. So you don't want me to go with you?" Booth grimaced at the sound of her voice. She'd tried to cover the hurt she felt, but his face told her she hadn't done it well. "Then why did you ask me to attend?"

Booth muttered something under his breath. She didn't catch most of it, but it sounded like he was berating himself for always messing this up. Not sure what he was talking about, she waited patiently for him to explain.

"One of these times, I'll get this right," he said, loud enough for her to hear him this time. Crumpling the napkin and throwing it on the table, he tried again. "Would you attend with me as my date? Not my partner. A date where we dance and hold hands and refuse to spend time with anyone else because we came together as a couple. Not as partners," he added again at the end, hoping he was clear that time.

"Oh." There were nerves dancing with the food in her stomach, a mixture of both worry and excitement. "Will I need a fancy dress?"

He snorted. "You could come in what you're wearing now and you'd still be the most beautiful woman there."

She warmed in pleasure, but couldn't stop the argument. "I doubt that would be true." Her eyes shifted down to her hands, now folded carefully in her lap. "What if this doesn't work, Booth?" Even with all the brave words and actions, she was still afraid to lose him again.

He didn't pretend to misunderstand what she was talking about. "We won't know until we try. And we've already done the whole avoid each other thing. That didn't turn out well. I truly believe we can do this, Bones. No gambling. No taking a chance. Dates and days and moments. We can do those."

It was what she wanted. What she'd waited for. Chickening out now would defeat everything that had happened in the last two years of her life. Taking a break, Maluku, watching him with Hannah, the conversation with him in the SUV. What had been the point of all of it if she was going to say no now?

"Will you be wearing a tux?" she asked. The sight of him dressed up always took her breath away. They would make a striking couple, coming in together.

His eyes brightened. "Is that a yes, Bones? You will accompany me to this dinner as my date and not just my partner? I want us to be on the same page. I don't want you to punch me if I try to kiss you," he teased.

She laughed. "I've never hit you for kissing me," she pointed out, always needing to be factual. "I'll be your date on one condition."

Willing to agree with anything to get her to say yes, Booth nodded. "Name it."

"That you will also be my date to the Jeffersonian Christmas party. You won't need a tux. A suit will be fine. And don't drink the punch," she warned. "Hodgins tends to take control of the drinks."

Fighting the urge to jump from the table and pump his fist into the air, Booth leaned back in the chair and feigned confidence. "It would be my pleasure," he assured her, basking in the smile that grew on her face. "It will definitely be my pleasure."