Thank you, dear readers, for your patience with me. I was completely ready to post this about a week ago but then I had a breakthrough and changed the whole story plot for the rest of this story AND the Grand Essentials. (And if you're waiting for an update: That one is going to change dirastically. I am going to do a rewrite.)

So please enjoy this and give me feedback. And requests. Whatever. But thank you for the reviews that I got already! Big hugs for you all!

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Chapter Three

"TEMPE!"

Brennan's eyes flew open and she rolled off of the bed, bringing the sheets with her.

"TEMPE, WAKE UP RIGHT NOW OR I AM COMING OVER THERE AND YANKING YOU OUT OF BED, FEET FIRST! I MEAN IT!"

Groaning, Brennan rested her head on the floor and reached up to the small table next to her bed. She groped around for the phone for a bit while listening to the screaming coming from her answering machine. When she found it she pressed the TALK key and pulled it down to her ear.

"What are you yelling about, Angela?" she groaned. Her eyes went to the mirror on the other side of the room and looked at the reflection of the time. It read 13:6. It was 6:31 in the morning.

"Thank God, Tempe," Angela sighed in relief, her voice lowering several decibels. "I have to talk to you."

"All right, Angela," Brennan mumbled, running a hand over her face and through her tousled hair. "What happened?"

"I woke up this morning, Brenn. I woke up naked."

"Wow, Angela. Great job." It was one of those rare moments that Brennan freely used sarcasm. Her eyes were heavy and she fought to stop them from closing.

"No, Tempe. I mean I woke up naked and there was someone else with me."

Brennan felt her heart drop as she remembered her friend's date. "Oh, my God," she whispered. "Was it…was it Hodgins?"

"Oh my God, Tempe." Angela's voice was also a whisper and Brennan could hear the tears threatening to fall. "It was him. It was him. I slept with him, Brennan."

"Well…" Brennan fumbled for the right words. "Where is he now?"

"He's in my bed." Her whisper was harsh now. "What do I do, Tempe? What do I do?"

"Well where are you? You were screaming earlier…how did he not hear?"

"I'm in the hallway, Brenn. I'm in the hallway and Mrs. Newman is standing next to me holding a cup of coffee. Thanks, Mrs. Newman. Did I wake you?"

"No," Brennan could hear the little woman smiling and she took the chance to sit up and disentangle herself from the bed sheets. Standing, she walked slowly into the bathroom, her fingers running through her hair and absently working with some of the tangles. When Angela spoke again she seemed calmer and Brennan guessed that she had accepted the coffee.

"So what do I do?"

"Well what can you do?" Brennan sighed, looking into the mirror and rubbed her nose.

"Well I am going back in now just in case he wakes up. I don't want him to think I stood him up. But what do I do? What do I do when he wakes up and we have to talk?"

"My question is what we're going to do when you two can't work together because you're too awkward." Brennan slouched against the counter and rested her forehead on the mirror. It was too early, she decided.

"That's not the problem, Tempe. Listen, I doubt I'm going to get much out of you by way of advice this early in the morning so why don't I just take care of this morning's impending awkwardness myself. How about we meet for lunch?"

"No can do, Ange," Brennan turned on the faucet. Running her hand under the water, she rubbed her face. "I've got plans for lunch."

"What are you doing?" Angela seemed much calmer now and Brennan mentally thanked Mrs. Newman.

"I'm going to lunch with Booth."

Silence on the other end reminded her that that probably wasn't the best idea to tell Angela.

"Angela? Are you still there?" Brennan turned off the sink and pulled a washcloth and rubbed her face.

"Tempe, you know that the only reason I'm not screaming right now is that Jack is in the next room, right?"

Brennan nodded. "Yeah, Ange. I kind of guessed that."

"So what happened to you last night? Did you guys do the Dirty Dirty? Or am I the only one?"

"Angela!" Brennan gasped, her face flushing. "You know me better than that."

"Did anything happen to you last night, Brenn?" Angela seemed crestfallen.

Brennan paused and cleared her throat. "Well, maybe..."

"What happened, Brennan? Tell me NOW." Brennan smiled to herself as she recognized her friend's usual enthusiasm.

"Does a kiss count?"

"You know it does! Oh my God, Tempe!" she gasped as if something had just occurred to her. "Was there tongue? Does he have Roman Hands? Did anything else happen? Were you vertical or horizontal?"

"No, don't know what that means, no, and vertical," Brennan answered the questions in order as she walked into the kitchen and contemplated what to eat for breakfast.

"And how did it happen?"

"It just…did. We were dancing and—"

"DANCING? Oh, man, Brenn! You get all the great guys. What kind of music? Was it Classical or Jazz? Or Pop? What kind of dancing was it? Was there grinding or was it slow dancing?"

Heaving a sigh, Brennan decided on leftover Chinese and a glass of ice water. She held the phone to her ear with her shoulder and pulled out a bowl and dumped the box of Chinese food into it. "I don't know what kind of music it was exactly—maybe Pop. But it was slow dancing." She didn't mention the lyrics or what they meant. That just seemed too personal.

"That is so romantic." Angela sighed and Brennan watched the bowl moving in circles in the microwave.

"Maybe."

"So what did you guys do on your date?"

Brennan summarized the previous night—skipping over the fine details like the book and what she'd found in it—as she pulled out her food and set it on the table. When she finished, she scooped a large bite of Lo Mein into her mouth and chewed thoughtfully. "It was probably the best date I've ever been on. We had so much fun and there was actual conversation."

"I told you so, Brenn."

"No, you said that there was sexual tension. You insisted that I would get laid the first time he ever made physical contact with me. It's not like that, Angela. It still isn't. One kiss doesn't change that. We're still just friends and partners, maybe with a bit of tension but nothing that will or can ever develop into more. It would screw with our entire working relationship. And besides, won't there be enough of awkwardness at work with you and Jack?"

"You are so wrong, Sweetie. There is definitely something else there. And if you insist on—"

"Angela?"

Brennan dropped her spoon and her mouth fell open. "Is that Jack?" she whispered.

"Yes! Oh, what do I do?" Angela was whispering and speaking fast. Brennan could feel her heart beating fast in anxiety for her friend. "He's coming into the kitchen! You know what, Brenn?" her voice was at a normal level but not without a slight tremor and Brennan guessed that Jack was in the kitchen. "I'm going to have to let you go. I'm glad you had a great time on your date last night. Call me after lunch, okay?"

"Good luck."

"Thanks. You too." And the phone line clicked dead.

Sighing, Brennan folded her arms on the table and put her head down, wondering if her work life was about to change forever and if that change would be good or bad.'

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"Angela?" Hodgins stumbled into the large kitchen as he ran a hand through his curly hair. His other hand was clutching a blanket around his waist.

"You know what, Brenn? I'm going to have to let you go. I'm glad you had a great time on your date last night. Call me after lunch, okay?" Angela stood for a second, listening to a response, before nodding and smiling. "Thanks. You too."

She pushed a button and then hung it up on the cradle. Hodgins watched as slowly turned around on her feet to face him. He felt himself warming up to the morning as he eyed the silk wrap that she wore, leaving her arms and shoulders bare along with the legs below her mid-thigh. "Morning," he said with a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "How long have you been up?"

"Not long," Angela said, clearing her throat and rubbing her exposed shoulders and arms. "I just got some of Mrs. Newman's famous coffee and Tempe called."

Hodgins' eyes snapped up in surprise. "Dr. Brennan?"

Angela nodded and picked up cup off of the counter and took a sip. "She was calling to talk to me about her date with Booth last night."

"Oh, yeah!" his smile grew to a broad grin. "How did that go, anyway?"

"There was a kiss." Angela was grinning, too and when Hodgins' approached she offered him her coffee.

He chuckled and took a sip. "So is there going to be a follow-up date?"

"Yeah. They're going out at noon today." Her heart rate multiplied as Hodgins looked up from his coffee and stared at her with a strange look that she hadn't seen on him since…since the night before. The memories flooded her mind as warmth followed them up to her face. She remembered his lips on her own and his fingertips brushing past her… Oh, God.

"Hmm," Hodgins murmured as he set the cup aside on the counter. Leaning forward, he leaned closer to her, his hands resting on the counter on either side of her. "So how did you sleep?"

Angela swallowed hard and smiled softly. "Fine. How about you?"

"Like a baby." He leaned in closer and brought his lips to hover only a breath away from hers. "So do we have a follow-up date?"

Angela made a decision then and there, smiling before closing the space between them. "You must be lucky, Bug Man. I may just have to accept."

"Great." Hodgins muttered before pulling her up into a deep kiss and slipping his hand to rest under the hem of her wrap.

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Brennan tilted her head back to let the pounding water hit her face. Her mind had slowed down for the first time since she'd woken up this morning. As the heat massaged her skin and the steam wrapped itself around her she was able to sensibly go over the night before. After Booth had left she had lain alone in the dark, feeling his lips against hers again and again until she had to get up and soak her face to get the sensations to subside. She hadn't been able to coherently think about what had really happened without a flush returning to her cheeks and her pulse rate increasing.

But now, under the heat of the water, she was able to analyze the events.

First, she thought as she rubbed shaving cream on her legs, there was the fact that she had had a wonderful time. She could only imagine how much he had paid for the dinner and then the wine. And the money besides, even though she was far from romantic, Brennan found that she could sufficiently appreciate how idealistic the evening had been.

Next there was the CD. Brennan smiled softly at the memory of the words as she rubbed shampoo through her hair. That, too, was something that would cause a sentimental woman like Angela to melt. It was sweet, the way that he had offered to dance with her in her apartment. But what the song meant—what the lyrics were meant to convey—was much more than sweet. They suggested that he wanted more from her than friendship. In fact they pretty much screamed that he wanted a real relationship.

But was she ready for that? Was she ready to commit herself after the disastrous events of her relationship with David and Peter before him? She rarely had a successful relationship and doubted that if a relationship with Booth began it would be painful when it ended. And she knew instinctively that a relationship with Booth would not be something superficial on any level. No other man that she knew could dedicate himself to something or someone so completely. She remembered the first time that they had ever worked together and, though he grated on her nerves incessantly, she had been compelled by his passion for what he did. And over their continuous partnership she had found herself drawn to him. Soon she had began feeling things that she'd never thought she'd feel.

Sighing heavily, Brennan let the water rinse the last of the shampoo from her hair. Running her hands up her legs to double-check that she'd gotten all of her legs, she turned the water off and reached out blindly for the towel that hung on the wall. Wrapping it around her body, she stepped out onto the rug and walked over to the mirror, rubbing circles on the fog so that she could see her reflection as she applied lotion onto her skin.

Finally, there was the kiss.

Brennan had kissed guys before—had slept with some, even—but she'd never felt what she'd felt after that one, simple kiss. She felt like a walking cliché. She felt breathless and her skin tingled and she felt dizzy and her heart beat hard against her chest at the very thought of him.

She hated feeling like that.

But that kiss had felt so good: soft and gentle, wild and persistent. Damn it, she had even dreamed about it, much to her great distaste.

Whatever, she thought as she unwrapped the towel and hung it back up on the hook and walked out into her bedroom. She would try to take this how it was. She would not let herself fall into a hole, dug her unruly emotions. She would not let herself be governed by mere feelings and desires. She would try this proposition of happiness but she would not be naive.

Finally finished with her analyzing and her hygiene, Brennan began to dress, mentally preparing herself for her upcoming date. Yes, she would try. She would take something at face-value for once and see where it led her. Who knew? Maybe it would end out well for once and maybe she would be happy. Maybe.

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I respond to all reviews. They feed my lonesome soul in this sad time of school and homework. Again, I am open to any and all comments.

Love you all!
Deamon