Brennan paced back and forth in her kitchen, checking and rechecking the ingredients that she and Booth would need that evening. He would be arriving in a few minutes.
The thought sent her heart racing.
Why was she so nervous? It was just Booth. Obviously the idea of teaching someone how to cook was the anxiety-inducing factor in this situation. She was well aware that she wasn't the best cook ever, so the thought of passing on her admittedly limited knowledge and attempting to turn that knowledge into a lesson worthy of someone else's time was pressure enough.
Yes, that was it.
A knock and a, "Bones?" startled her, causing the measuring cup she held in her hand to crash loudly onto the floor.
Shaking her head at her ridiculous reflex to a simple knock, Brennan picked up the cup and called back, "It's open, Booth!"
She made one last quick check of the ingredients, muttering their names out loud as she compared them to her recipe.
Warmth enveloped her back. "Talking to yourself, Bones? They say that's an early sign of madness, you know."
For the second time that evening, she jumped.
Brennan sighed, turning to face him. "Booth, I know you have superior skills in stealth, but you should know better than to-"
She faltered. He was very, very close to her.
He had one of those silly smiles he always seemed to wear when he was around her, and she suddenly found it quite difficult to breathe. And think, which was a rare occurrence for her. It seemed that all she could focus on were the little crinkles gracing the corners of his eyes, the curve of his well-formed lips, the way he smelled.... His was a scent that was both calming and maddening, composed of all sorts of contradictions that frustrated and enticed her, just like its source.
It took only seconds for her to be completely overwhelmed by him.
She found she really didn't mind.
But Brennan was quickly jolted out of her reverie by a hand waving in her face.
"Hey, Bones, you still with me?"
Brennan crashed back down to reality. What was she doing standing there, musing about lips and scents and eyes? Her thoughts were beginning to sound like one of those ridiculous Shakespeare love sonnets that Gordon Gordon always enjoyed quoting.
"Of course I'm still with you, Booth," she snapped. "Does it look like I went anywhere? Teleportation defies the laws of physics and last time I checked, those laws still firmly apply to me."
Brennan immediately regretted her curt tone as she watched Booth take a step back, hands held up defensively.
"Whoa, hey, I know that, okay? It's just, you just looked far away, that's all. Wanted to bring you back to Earth. You promised me a cooking class, after all."
She took a breath. "Yes, you're absolutely right, I did. I'm sorry."
"It's okay. But I'll only let you off the hook if this meatloaf turns out delicious. If not…well, let's just say I won't be so quick to forgive you."
Brennan could have sworn she saw his eyes twinkle. A misconception, of course; eyes do not twinkle, the reaction observed is simply the dilation of the pupils.
Still.
She cleared her throat. "Let's get started, then."
Brennan led Booth over to the counter which contained all of the needed ingredients for the meatloaf.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Bones!" Booth picked up a bowl containing the main ingredient. "What exactly is this?"
"Meat, Booth."
He sniffed the contents suspiciously. "This most definitely is not meat. I know meat, I eat meat, and I love meat. This? Is not meat."
"Okay, yes, it's not actual meat, it's even better; it's a meat substitute. You would call it a 'veggie' burger. It's a vegetable compound comprised of-"
"Mmhmm, yeah, okay, Bones, I don't need the scientific mumbo jumbo behind veggie burgers, thanks. What's important is that the meatloaf we're supposed to be making doesn't seem to actually contain any meat." Booth stared at her, eyes accusing.
"Well, I am a vegetarian, Booth, you know that. And the fact that this meatloaf contains textured vegetable protein instead of animal flesh won't make it any less appetizing or delicious." Brennan put her hands on her hips, determined to win the argument she knew was inevitable.
Booth sighed. "Alright, alright, I can already tell I'm going to lose this one. I'll try your veggieloaf."
"Meatloaf, Booth. It's still called meatloaf."
"Potato, po-tah-to, Bones." He broke into song. "You say meatloaf, I say veggieloaf. Meatloaf, veggieloaf, let's call the whole thing off!"
Brennan stared blankly at him.
"Never mind."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Did you turn the oven on?"
"Yes."
"325 degrees?"
"Yes."
"So it's actively preheating?"
"Yes! You know, Bones, I'm a grown man, I take care of myself; I'm fully capable when it comes to turning on an oven."
Brennan shrugged and continued adding ingredients into her mixing bowl. "I'm just making sure you successfully completed the task I set out for you."
Booth rolled his eyes. "Yeah, the only task you set out for me. I'm supposed to be learning how to make this veggieloaf, not proving my knowledge of basic kitchen skills."
"It's a vegetarian meatloaf, Booth," he waved his hand at her dismissively, "and there really isn't much to do when making it besides mixing all the ingredients together."
"Well, let me do that, then. You can stand there and grade my mixing technique." He moved closer to Brennan, grabbing the hand she was using to hold the spoon.
A thrill shot up her arm at the contact.
Booth smiled, his voice lowering. "Am I going to have to use my hands to mix all this stuff up? Or am I allowed to use your spoon?"
Brennan sighed. "I will gladly let you use this spoon if you let go of my hand." She lightly slapped his wrist.
"I dunno, Bones. Now you're making me doubt if I'm going to be able to operate this spoon all by myself. I might need your help." Still smiling, his grip on her hand tightened.
She eyed him suspiciously, eyes narrowed.
He stared at her innocently, eyes widening.
"I'm going to grab the rest of the ingredients. And you," Brennan shook her hand out of Booth's grasp, "will stir."
She heard Booth chuckle quietly as she turned around, and she smiled.
"So, you should probably tell me what else is going in here as I'm stirring. I don't want you sneaking in rat poison or something without me knowing about it."
"Booth, I would never covertly put poison in any food that I would serve to you. And why would you assume I have rat poison in the first place? My apartment is completely rodent-free, I have no need of-"
"Bones," Booth waved the spoon in front of her face, "it was a joke."
"Oh." She cleared her throat and grabbed two minced cloves of garlic. "You just need to stir these in, then the parsley, thyme, and basil. Everything else is already in the bowl."
"Way to do all of the work for me, Bones, geez. What happened to the teaching part? I was hoping for a little student-teacher action, if you know what I mean." He wiggled his eyebrows, eyes twinkling once more.
No, not twinkling. Pupil dilation.
She turned away from him quickly and grabbed the parsley. "I don't know what that means."
"Another joke, Bones." He tossed the rest of the ingredients into the bowl. "Okay. I mix all of this up, then what?"
"Put it in that loaf pan, and then put that into the oven. It'll bake for forty-five minutes, and after that we'll put the rest of the barbeque sauce on. We'll let it bake for another fifteen minutes, and then we can eat."
"Just like that?"
Brennan smiled. "Just like that."
"Well, that's just too easy! Even for me. You need to invite me over for a more difficult recipe next time, Bones."
Brennan regarded him for a moment, her expression turning serious. "Okay."
Booth paused his stirring, looking up from the mixing bowl. "Okay? I was just kidding again; you don't really have to invite-"
"No, I really don't mind, Booth. And you are correct about this recipe being exceedingly easy. Despite that, though, I'm enjoying this evening very much."
"Me too, Bones."
They smiled.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Booth groaned. "This is…"
Brennan smirked. "Damn good?"
"So damn good."
She laughed. "Better than the macaroni and cheese?"
"Let's not push it. But this is definitely a close second. And I can't believe I'm saying that about a veggieloaf."
"Well, of course. The meatloaf you're use to eating usually has eyeballs in it. This, fortunately, does not."
"You know, Bones, if I didn't know any better, I'd say that you almost made a joke just now."
Brennan smiled and took another bite of her meatloaf. "I was simply making a logical comparison between your mother's more traditional meatloaf and mine."
"Uh huh."
She put her fork down and watched him for a moment before speaking again. "Booth?"
"Hmm?"
"I'm really glad you told me that story."
Booth looked up from his meal. "Yeah?"
"Yes."
He grinned. "Good. I was hoping it would be a charming addition to what you already know about me instead of an embarrassing story that you would just laugh at."
"I would never 'just laugh at' any story you tell me, Booth. In that instance you were little and it was logical that you would implicitly accept any information from your mother as factual. Now that you're an adult…well, I suppose you are still afraid of hard-boiled eggs, so, technically, my reasoning about you no longer being scared is flawed-"
He flicked a pea at her.
Brennan gasped. "Booth! That is extremely childish."
He just laughed.
But she narrowed her eyes.
And flicked one back at him.
