Author's note: I just started watching this show, so don't feed me to the dogs if the characterizations are a little off. Also, for the purposes of this story, Booth's convalescence is a non-issue.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, nor Tempe's trademark phrase (though I have borrowed it on occasion). And I swear, if Fox cancels another one of my shows…trails off, grumbling incoherently…

"Hey, Bren," Angela greeted her friend as she walked into her office.

"Morning, Ange," Temperance replied with her characteristic half-smile.

Angela narrowed her eyes as she took in Brennan's appearance. She wordlessly followed Tempe to her desk and when the anthropologist had sat down, Angela pinched her arm.

Hard.

"Ow! Geez, Ange, what was that for?" she asked, rubbing the sore spot.

"You do realize it's March 17th, right?"

"Uh, sure," Tempe said, her implied question being, 'And…?'

"St. Patrick's Day, Bren! You're Irish!"

"So? Is this the custom now? Pinch the Irish to celebrate a centuries-old Catholic saint?"

"You're not wearing any green, sweetie. Haven't you ever pinched anyone for not wearing green on St. Patty's?"

"No," she answered, frowning. "But now that you mention it, I do recall the custom. Some things I will never understand."

"It's tradition!" Angela said exasperatedly.

"How does pinching someone even relate to snakes being driven out of Ireland?"

Angela rolled her eyes as she dug through the pockets of her lab coat. "I don't know, but you're not getting pinched anymore today if I can help it."

"You can help it. Just don't do it."

But Angela wasn't listening. She found what she was looking for, and held it up to her friend's face. It was a big green shamrock-shaped button that read "KISS ME, I'M IRISH!" Temperance just stared at Ange.

"I was gonna wear it, but I'm wearing green."

Dr. Brennan reluctantly took the button and attached it to the left side of her shirt. "There. No more pinching."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Ange replied with a wink before wandering back to her workstation.

Temperance had been working on a couple differentsets of oldremains for most of the day, but towards the end had shifted her attention to some Bureau cases they'd just wrapped, typing out forms and finishing all the boring stuff. She was filling out reports when Agent Booth sauntered into her office, looking casual in a mint green button-down shirt that was open at the collar. He had rolled the sleeves up to his elbows and left the shirt untucked. Tempe didn't appear to notice him.

He walked right up to her desk and squinted as though trying to make out what was stamped across the button in clear, easy-to-read bold caps.

"Is there something I can help you with, Booth?" she asked without looking up from her report.

He grinned boyishly and said, "Nice button."

Her eyelids fluttered disinterestedly as she rolled her eyes and finally met his gaze. "Angela made me put it on. Apparently, the practice of pinching anyone not wearing green on St. Patrick's Day doesn't stop once you finish elementary school."

"Ah, c'mon, Bones. You gotta get in the spirit. You know, be proud of your heritage."

"By pinching people?" she answered skeptically. He just shrugged and moved around to stand beside her. He leaned over and rested his elbows on her desk so that his eyes were level with the computer screen.

For a few minutes, he watched as she typed. Then he gave her a sideways glance and a hint of mischief flitted across his face as he read the button again. He leaned towards her, zeroing in on her cheek.

At the last second, her left hand shot up to intercept his puckered lips. Her eyes remained fixed on her computer screen as she said warningly, "I can hurt you."

His response was to make a loud kiss against her fingertips. She looked at him disdainfully and rolled her eyes before dropping her hand and resuming her work.

"So what are you actually here for, Booth?" she asked after a few more minutes of nothing but the sound of her fingers skimming over the keyboard.

"I'm glad you asked, Bones," he answered as he rolled her chair away from her desk and spun it around to face him. "I'm here to get you out of the lab. I think it's important that you celebrate your Irish heritage by joining me at the local Irish pub." He put on what he thought to be his most charming smile and waited for her answer.

She couldn't help but chuckle at his attempt to cut a dashing figure.

His grin widened. "So is that a 'yes?'"

She considered him for a moment before replying, "Yes, that's a yes."

"Great! Let's go!" He jaunted over to her coat and helped her into it while her computer shut down.

Booth drove them to a bar called O'Brian's. They found a parking spot three blocks away, and they were both thankful for the mild temperature and clear skies.

Stepping into the bar was like stepping into a genuine pub in Ireland, complete with rousing Irish tunes blaring through the speakers and rowdy drunks clutching green beers and Guinness.

Booth immediately took a liking to the atmosphere, and Brennan studied it with quiet amusement. He laid a hand on her lower back to guide her to a couple seats at the bar. They hopped up on the stools and one of the bartenders quickly made his way over.

"What can I get fer ye?" he asked in a fake Irish accent.

Booth looked at his companion and said, "Bones? Green beer?"

She wrinkled her nose and asked, "Green beer? Never had it."

"What?" Booth answered in mild surprise. "What kind of Irish girl has never had green beer?"

"Me, obviously."

"Well tonight is your lucky night," he said to her. Then he turned to the bartender and said, "One green beer for the lady and I'll take a Guinness."

"You got it," the man answered, and quickly went to retrieve the orders.

"Green beer?" Tempe asked again.

"It's magically delicious!" her partner replied with a cheesy grin.

"I don't know what that means."

"You're killin' me, Bones! Here," he said, pushing the beer that the barman had just placed before them towards her. "Drink up."

She picked up the glass and studied the emerald liquid, swirling it and marveling at the strangely appealing hue.

Booth held up his glass and she met his eyes. She mirrored his action as he said, "Here's to your first green beer."

She smiled indulgently and clinked her glass against his, then took a sip. It didn't taste any different than ordinary beer. She guessed that they just added a bit of food coloring to give it the green tint.

"So?" Booth asked. "How is it?"

She shrugged. "It's beer."

He seemed satisfied with that answer as he took another swallow from his glass.

"How's the Guinness?" she asked him.

He mimicked her shrugging, "It's Guinness."

She laughed and continued to sip her drink. They ended up ordering fried Irish potato sticks—woe to anyone who called them French fries—and two more drinks each, Brennan sampling a Guinness and Booth getting a green beer for himself.

Once the last sip was downed, Booth paid up the tab and escorted Tempe out of the bar. On the sidewalk outside, he said, "So, Bones, it's a Friday night. What do you wanna do?"

She shrugged her shoulders and replied, "I dunno…walk around, I guess. It's a nice night, and I don't think either of us is ready to drive just yet."

"Agreed. Let's walk."

They strolled along at a leisurely pace, passing bars blasting bagpipe and Irish fiddle music. Sometime along the first three blocks, Booth had found Brennan's hand, and they were now joined with fingers interwoven. A light breeze rustled Tempe's loose hair, and the cooling air worked to refresh them both. After half an hour walking, they were ready to get back in the car.

Booth drove back to the lab so that Temperance could get her car. He got out and moved around to open her door for her. She stepped out and looked at him as he closed the door.

"Thanks for dragging me out of the lab," she said with a grin.

"Hey, it didn't take much convincing, if I recall correctly. Just my winning smile." As proof, he flashed said smile again.

She shook her head and laughed. Booth reached out and fiddled with the shamrock button that Tempe still hadn't taken off. Feeling bold, he leaned forward, just slowly enough to allow her to stop him if she wanted, and met her lips in a gentle kiss.

Rather than stop him again, she returned the gesture. It lasted only a few seconds, and when he pulled back, she was still smiling.

They stood grinning at each other for a moment, then started laughing easily. She reached up and unpinned the shamrock from her shirt, then studied it for a moment before pocketing it.

"So…" Booth said, breaking the silence.

She looked back up at him. "So…" she repeated softly. He opened his arms invitingly and she stepped into his embrace.

He smiled again. "I guess I'll see ya later," he said into her hair.

"Yeah," she said in her characteristic raspy voice. "G'night, Booth." She started to pull away, but before she did, he pinched her side.

"Hey!" she said. "That's not fair! St. Patrick's Day is practically over!"

He just shrugged his shoulders and held up his hands in mock surrender. "'Night, Bones."

He stepped around to the driver's side of his car and got in, starting the engine. He watched as she unlocked her own car and got in, and followed her out of the parking complex.

Even though he wasn't Irish, he felt that today had turned out pretty lucky.

END

So, what do ya think? Good? Bad? Diseased cow liver?