Note: This is the edited version of the first chapter. Times and stuff have been changed for sake of the future story plot but it still remains the same. No others beyond this point have been edited so please excuse time mistakes in the next couple. I am working to sift through and change it but it is a little harder than would be expected. Thank you.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from the TV show 'Bones.' If I did then I would not be suffering with questions of what happens this season.

Summary: Love is the greatest gift in life that we can ever ask for. When we find that special someone that we are willing to spend the rest of our lives with everything else has a habit of just fading away.

Chapter: The First Date

Rating: This one is a very mild chapter. The story is currently rated T but that is subject to change if the characters decide to act up.

Pairings: Mainly Booth/Bones but there will be some Hodgela involoved. Yay!

- - -

We need not think alike to love alike. - Francis David

- - -

"I want to be the Mulder to your Scully."

"I don't know what that means, Booth."

Special Agent Seeley Booth chuckled softly. He had known she wouldn't know what he was talking about; had counted on it. "How about this," he rested his hands on the car roof and looked down at the woman sitting in the seat. "How about I come over around seven and I take you out to dinner. Not Wong Fu's but someplace nice." He bit back the laugh that threatened to escape when her blue eyes widened in shock.

"Why?" Temperance Brennan cocked her head in confusion.

Booth shrugged. "Do I really need a reason to take you out to dinner? Besides, I haven't taken you anywhere nice in…ever, actually. Come on." He widened his smile into what she often referred to as his 'charm smile'. "What can a little dinner harm?"

Brennan bit her lip and looked away to stare out her windshield. Her hands tightened on the steering wheel and Booth could see from the way that her eyes darted back and forth that she was thinking hard. He tried to keep his smile calm as his heart beat hard against his rib cage. Finally, after what seemed to Booth like an eternity and a half, her hands loosened and she looked up at him.

"What time?"

Booth felt his smile widen in relief. "I'll pick you up around seven-thirty. Is that OK?"

Sh nodded slowly, her tongue flicking out to lick her lips. "Yes. I'll see you then." And she turned the key in the ignition before giving Booth one last glance and pulling out of her parking space. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears and feel it in the back of her throat as she reached over and pushed a button on the dashboard. She sighed and leaned her head back against the seat as the sounds of smooth jazz filled the car. When she was a few blocks away and at a standstill in the typical DC traffic, she reached for her phone and pushed the number two down, holding it until a dial-tone sounded. It rang three times when the line clicked.

"Hello?" Angela's voice on the other end sounded slightly frazzled.

"Hey, Ange, it's Brennan. What's wrong?" Brennan said as she eased the car forward a couple feet.

"Hey, Sweetie. Nothing's wrong. I just got off the phone with Jack. He asked again if I would grace him with my presence at dinner tonight."

Brennan's eyes widened. "And what did you say?"

"Oh, sweetie, I don't know why but I said yes. Jordan canceled on me the other day after one of our fights and I just decided, what the hey? Why not give Jack a chance? I mean, he has been asking for at least a year now, hasn't he?"

Brennan was silent for a moment as she mulled this over. "It's not going to complicate anything at work is it, Angela?"

"Brenn!" Angela cried in exasperation. "That's not the issue right now! The issue is that I am going out with Jack Hodgins!"

"That's an issue?" Brennan inquired, confused.

"Yes! Oh my God, Tempe! I've been dancing around this for the past three years and I finally say yes! That makes it an Issue with a capital I!"

Brennan sighed as she listened to the silence of her friend trying to calm down. When she couldn't hear the sound of her harsh breathing anymore, she decided to try and talk to her. "Well I kind of have an issue too, Angela. And I need your help." She bit her bottom lip in concentration as she slowly eased the car into the next lane and sped the car up a bit, searching for the nearest back road. Finding one, she smiled to herself and turned, leaving the bumper-to-bumper traffic behind.

"What do you mean you have an issue, Sweetie? You never call with 'issues'. That's usually my job." The woman gasped as if something had just occurred to her. "Do you have a date?"

Brennan nodded as she turned the car into her parking lot. "Yes."

"Ohmygod!" Angela squealed. "Who is it? Do I know him? Wait…" she trailed off. "You haven't called for date help since that Peter guy."

"It's Booth, Ange. And don't—"

She was cut off by a near-scream. She held the phone away from her ear and turned the key in the ignition before grabbing her bag. When the screaming ceased she put the phone back against her ear and vaguely listened to her friend claiming that she just knew it and that all that sexual tension couldn't have gone to waste. Finally, when she was walking up the stairs to her apartment, her friend's allegations stopped, giving Brennan a space to get a few words in.

"Do you mind meeting me at my apartment in about twenty minutes or so? I need help getting ready."

"I told you that you have it bad for our FBI guy." Brennan could hear the grin on Angela's face. "So do you think that you are going to shack-up tonight? Do you need to borrow some condoms?"

"Angela!" Brennan cried, horrified, as she stuck her keys into the door. "It's not like that and you know it. I doubt this is even a date for pleasure. He probably just wants to talk. We are what you would call friends, after all."

"Whatever you say, Tempe, but I'm bringing some over to stick in your bedroom just in case. Unless you're still on that patch…"

"Uh, yeah." Brennan tossed her bag onto the couch and made her way to the refrigerator. "I'm still on the patch. You have no idea how inconvenient it is to have to worry about taking routine bathroom trips to change a stupid stick. And it is highly impractical to expect to be able to concentrate on the intricacies of my job when I am nearly doubling over in pain. So, yes I have decided that the patch is a wonderful idea."

"Sheesh, Brenn," Angela breathed. "Don't turn the question into something scientific. I was just asking. Anyway, I'm on the road right now - and luckily I have my handy-dandy emergancy bag with me - but should I take Mulberry or Oak Street?"

"Mulberry and then Florentine," Brennan answered as she reached into the freezer and pulled out a carton of Moose Tracks. "Is the usual ice cream good for you?"

"Of course. Hey, Brenn, I'm here. I'll be right up, okay?"

"Thanks, Angela. I'll see you in a minute." And she closed the phone, sighing in relief as she ran a hand through her hair. Her heart thudded in her ears as she tried to comprehend the enormity of what she had just done. She'd acted like a hormonal teenager on her first date by calling her friend and asking for this kind of help. And as she walked over to her stereo system and reached for a CD she noted the way her hands quavered she chastised herself for acting unreasonable. It was probably just what she told Angela it was: a nice dinner between friends. He had never before shown an interest in having a relationship beyond partnership and friendship before and Brennan didn't believe that he would. Why choose the woman infamous for her emotional detachment when there were plenty of other women who would jump at the chance to go on a date with Special Agent Seeley Booth?

"Stop it, Temperance," she whispered to herself as her CD turned on and the piano concertos flooded from the speakers. And at just that moment a knock on the door signaled Angela's arrival. "Come in!" she called as she moved back into the kitchen and began scooping ice cream into two separate bowls.

"I'm here to save the day, Sweetie," cried Angela as she bounced into the apartment, closing the door behind her. "And I brought everything that we are going to need to sexify you for our Booth."

Brennan looked up in slight dismay as her friend beamed at her, holding a large bag up for inspection. "Make-up, hair products, lingerie: everything you need is in this bag."

"Great, Angela. Thanks." Brennan held up a bowl to her friend. "Here's your ice cream. And I made sure to get some extra peanut butter in there for you." A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as the bowl was snatched from her hands and Angela dug in with vigor. "So what exactly are you planning, Ange?" she asked warily as she eyed the large black bag.

Angela shrugged. "First we have to choose a dress. Then comes the shoes and then underwear. Then I want to get some make-up on you that accentuates whatever we have decided on and then I'm going to play with your hair a little." She grinned through a mouthful of ice cream. "In other words: when your man comes to pick you up you are going to blow him off of his feet."

Brennan tried to hide a smile. This was what she had been counting on—Angela's eagerness—to get her through the night. If she looked stunning then maybe, just maybe, she might be able to have the courage to figure out where Booth wanted this all to start going.

"Oh, and I hope you don't mind but I told Jack to pick me up here around seven fifteen. I got this sexy little outfit to put on and if I play my cards right I just might able to get to see a little more of Jack Hodgins before the night is over."

Brennan shuddered involuntarily. That was a BAD thought. "Can we just get started now? I want to be ready when he gets here."

Angela scoffed. "We have two hours here, hun. Take a chill pill. You do know what you are shaking like a leaf, correct?"

"What do you mean by a chill pill? I don't have any pills like that. And I'm not a leaf. Does a leaf really shake, anyway?"

"Whatever, Brenn. It's a figure of speech."

"Oh." Brennan nodded as she filed this information away.

- - -

Booth stared in confusion at the retreating backs of Angela Montenegro and Jack Hodgins. He chuckled when the man rested his hand on her back, the fingers traveling slightly southward. Booth turned off the car, got out, and shoved his hands into his pockets as he walked up to the apartment building. His heart was doing a number on him and he tried in vain to slow it down to a reasonable rate. He had asked Dr. Temperance 'Bones' Brennan out on a date. He had asked the woman famous for her emotional detachment out and she had said yes. He had wanted to ask her out so many times before but he had been too frightened to put any kind of friendship that they had at risk.

And then he had met Tessa: a woman that he imagined he could be happy with. But each morning that they sat together at breakfast and every night that they walked between the restaurant and the movie theater, holding hands, his mind had been on another woman. So the relationship inevitably fell apart, leaving him free to pursue Bones. But then, of course, she met David—Dick431—and once again he was unable to pursue her.

But nearly three months ago he heard her dump David; tell him that she wasn't as into the relationship as he obviously was. If Booth listened to the rumors, David had proposed.

'Stupid man,' thought Booth as he reached Brennan's front door. Usually he would feel bad for David but not in this instance when he had been interfering in what Booth was hoping for with Brennan. He couldn't deny that he had wanted to have a relationship with this woman since the day that they worked together on their first case nearly two and a half years ago. But she didn't seem to like him in any way, shape, or form so he'd had to deal with working on establishing a good working relationship and then a friendship. Finally he had done it.

But what had started off long ago as merely wanting and fondness had progressed to something much, much more than that. If he thought about it—which he often did—he wondered just how far it had progressed.

Shaking his head to clear it, Booth raised his hand and knocked on the door of Brennan's apartment. He listened to her footsteps behind the door and had one last fleeting moment of anticipation before the door opened. He felt his jaw drop as Brennan revealed herself to him. He tightened his hands into fists, digging the nails in, as he forced himself into composure.

"Wow," he breathed, running his eyes up and down her body. She shifted uncomfortably on her feet as she ran her hands over the fabric of the dark blue blouse that she wore over her long form-fitting black skirt. Her feet were in clad in black heels that wrapped up her leg. "You look lovely, Bones." He watched as her face reddened slightly and she shook her head. Her hair had been touched up as well. The ends curled slightly as they touched her shoulders and dropped a little ways down her back. Booth didn't think that he'd ever seen her hair curled.

"Thanks, Booth," she said quietly. "Do you want to come in for a bit while I just grab my bag?"

Booth nodded with a smile. He walked through her door, closing it behind him. "If I remember correctly you like Italian food, correct?" he asked as she disappeared into the back, presumably into her bedroom.

"Yes, you remembered correctly," came Brennan's reply as she reappeared carrying a blue shoulder bag that Booth had never seen before. "Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah. Yeah, let's go." His smile widened as she came to stand next to him and he opened the front door for him. "But remember, you're with me." He winked. "Don't go running off with the first little boy with drool on his chin."

"Why would I do that, Booth?" Brennan sounded truly confused and Booth found himself laughing.

"Never mind, Bones. I'm just saying that you look gorgeous tonight." She turned to stare at him with a slightly indignant look on her face and Booth nearly laughed again as he registered the doubt in her crystal-blue eyes. Opening the front door of the apartment building, he followed her out. "Come on. Let's get going or we'll be late for our reservation."

"Reservation?" Brennan looked mortified. "You didn't have to do that, Booth."

"Yes I did," Booth said as he opened the car door for her. She gave him a weird look before slipping in and he couldn't help but notice the flash of bare skin on her leg that was revealed by a slit up the side. Closing the door, he got in on the other side and started the car. The ride was spent in a comfortable silence, broken only by the endings of a song that Booth had been listening to before he came to pick up Brennan.

Booth pulled into a nearly-empty parking lot just as the song ended and he turned the key in the ignition and opened his car door. He walked around and opened her door, offering her a hand. "Come on, Bones. I'm getting hungry."

When he pulled her up to her feet, he laughed at her look of confusion. "I have never seen this place before, Booth. And it's just around the corner from my place. Has it been here long?"

Booth nodded as he closed the car door and offered her his arm. She silently slipped her hand into the crook of his arm and walked with him up the cobbled driveway. "It's been here for ages but I doubt that you've ever been here. It's usually really busy—it's main patrons are people who have lived in DC for years. Tonight it's usually closed but I called in a favor so we have it to ourselves."


"Don't tell me that I didn't have to do that because you are worth every penny. And more, for that matter. Besides, isn't it better than having to deal with people arguing or pulling out their cell phones in the middle of dinner? And we won't have to wait in line or anything." They were in front of the restaurant now and Booth opened the door for her.

The air inside was comfortably warm compared to the chill autumn air outside and the décor resembled that of the classic Italian era. Faint music wafted through the room as they stopped in front of a small booth with a sign reading 'Please Wait to Be Seated.'

"Hey, Maurice!" Booth called, scanning the room with his eyes.

"Seeley!" a small plump man cried from the kitchen in the back of the room. He appeared, grinning from ear to ear. "How are you tonight?" His eyes met Brennan's and his smile widened even more. "And this must be the Bones that you were talking about. Tell me, is that your real name?"

Brennan shook her head, slightly mystified at the exuberance shown by this man. Before she could reply, Booth answered for her. "Her name's Temperance Brennan. She works with me at the Jeffersonian. Bones, this is Maurice, the owner of this fine establishment and my friend for nearly the past decade."

"Nice to meet you," Brennan mumbled.

"Great to meet you too, little lady. Now if you two will have a seat, we can start getting you guys something to eat. Lily—that's my wife, Ms. Brennan—is in the back with our two cooks, preparing something for you to eat. Someone will be out with you in a moment." Maurice bobbed his head and scurried back into the kitchen where the faint sounds of cooking and conversation sounded.

Booth grinned down at Brennan. "Great little guy, isn't he?"

"He seems nice," Brennan agreed. She followed him to a small booth in the center of the room. She slid into the seat and watched as Booth sat down across from her. "How did you meet him?"

"When I first came to DC after high school I found this little place and instantly fell in love with the food. And when I graduated from college and joined the FBI I came back for lunch nearly every day. Eventually the owners and I began having conversations and then it progressed form there. They were my only friends when I moved here and we've stayed that way ever since. I actually went to Maurice's wedding a couple weeks back." He shrugged and smiled. His gaze met Brennan's and it held for a long moment before speaking again. "So, Bones, when did you first come to DC?"

Brennan propped her head on her hand and sighed. "Well…"

"Here we go!"

Brennan and Booth looked up suddenly at a small woman holding a container of ice. She slowly slipped a bottle of wine into the ice and then set down two wine glasses. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a matchbook and lit the candles at the table. Finally she pulled out a small tablet of paper and a pen.

"Hello," she said in a heavy Italian accent. "How are you this evening, Seeley?"

Booth smiled. "Hello, Lily. I'm doing great. How about you?"

The woman waved a plump hand as if dismissing the question. "I'm doing great, boy. But who is this fine young lady?" She turned her large brown eyes to Brennan. "You must be Bones." She looked to Booth for an answer and he nodded slowly. Her smile widened, showing all of her teeth and she turned back to Brennan. "I am simply thrilled to finally meet you, Ms. Bones."

"Brennan, actually," Brennan corrected. "Temperance Brennan."

Lily scrunched her eyebrows in confusion. "But I thought your name was Bones."

Booth chuckled and shook his head. "Naw, that's what I call her." He winked across the table at Brennan.

Lily's mouth formed an 'O' of understanding. "Well, then," she ran a hand over her skirt and pulled two menus out of her large apron pocket. She placed them on the table and clicked her pen open. "Does anything strike you right away or do you need more time?"

Booth hardly looked at the small, laminated card in front of him. He looked up at Brennan and grinned. "You have got to try their Pollo alla Scarpariello. It's probably the greatest thing ever. And that way I can get the Chicken Marsala. Probably the next greatest thing ever." He winked again and nodded in encouragement. "Trust me."

Brennan stared dubiously for a moment but soon she nodded and handed the menu back to Lily. "I'll go with the Scarpariello." The woman nodded and pulled the wine from the bucket and opened it. She held it out for Brennan to see. The script was curly and actually quite lovely to her eye. She couldn't make out what it said – French had never really been her forte – but she could definitely tell that it was a good brand.

"I pulled out our finest for just this occasion. I hope you enjoy it." Then she tipped it and let the clear wine flow into the glass in front of Brennan and then Booth. Turning on her heel, she muttered something about how the food would be ready soon and then she marched off into the kitchen, throwing a grin and a wink over her shoulder.

"She was…exuberant…" Brennan said slowly when the woman had sufficiently disappeared.

Booth chuckled and ran a hand through his hair. "You have no idea, Bones. But cut her some slack: she's been waiting to meet you for a while."

Brennan raised an eyebrow. "How much have you said about me?"

"Enough." Booth shrugged and gave her his copyrighted charm smile. Lifting the wine glass from the table, he raised it in front of him. "How about we drink?"

Brennan lifted hers as well. "To what?"

"How about…" Booth thought for a long minute before Brennan spoke up.

"How about to being Scully and Mulder."

Booth grinned broadly as he nodded and clinked his glass against hers. He took a small sip of the wine, savoring the taste, before pointing an accusatory finger at the woman sitting across from him. "You don't even know what that meant, do you?"

Brennan shook her head as she took a second sip from her own wine. "Not the slightest idea."