A/N: This is my first (albeit short) fanfic. I may add to it or it may stay a one-shot. I don't own Bones or any of the characters but I'd sure like to play with Booth a little.

Earlier he'd taken a call and walked away from her for the conversation. He'd been doing that a lot lately since he'd met that woman. She was starting to think they might be getting serious. He hadn't been able to have drinks or dinner with her in weeks and their lunches were getting more infrequent. In fact, he'd been behaving strangely all the way around. She mused at herself for describing Booth as strange – she'd always thought he was a bit strange, with his quirky habits and archetypal belief system – but she had to admit, she'd grown to like his "strange." She'd thought, albeit briefly, today that he was back to normal – back to his "strange" – but then it passed when he took that call. It was only logical to think they were likely making plans for the evening. He'd probably told her that they finally wrapped up the last of the loose ends on the case they'd been busy on and now he was free for another date. She shivered when she thought that last word. An involuntary and purely unrelated physiological response – it's probably just colder in here than she thought.

Suddenly she felt something brush her arm and looked to see Angela eyeing her curiously. Then Angela glanced toward Booth who was chatting about the case result with Cam a few feet away, then back at her. It occurred to her that she must have been staring at Booth while lost in her little revelry. Better to not acknowledge it at all that to get Angela riled up on the issue she thought. She looked back at Angela as blankly as she could manage then simply walked off the platform into her office.

She grabbed her cell phone from her desk and dialed the number without a second thought.

"AD Hacker," said the voice on the other end of the line.

"Hello Andrew, it's Temperance."

"Temperance, so good to hear from you. I heard about the case, great job as usual –."

She interrupted, "Thank you Andrew. That's what prompted me to call you actually."

"Oh," he responded. There was a definite disappointment in his voice. She just wanted to talk about work, he thought.

"Yes," she said, noting the disappointment but choosing to carry on. "It seems my evening is no longer tied up reviewing evidence. I was wondering if you'd like to meet for dinner."

"Absolutely," he said rather exuberantly.

She internalized a chuckle at his excitement. "Great," she said, "do you have any suggestions or preferences as to where we should meet?"

"Temperance," he said, a little calmer now, "why don't you let me pick you up, then we can decide together?" He tried to gently suggest this. She never seemed to want him to pick her up, not from her apartment and certainly not from the lab.

She shivered again – it must be really cold in here, she thought.

"Well," she hesitated, "I have a few things to finish up here …."

He could hear the hesitation and was afraid she might change her mind altogether. "Eh em, yes, I have a few things to finish up as well," he backtracked. "Why don't I check on a reservation at a quaint spot I know of and call you back shortly with the details?"

She appreciated his acquiescence. "Thank you, Andrew, that sounds lovely."

As she ended the call, she turned around to see Booth leaning against the doorframe facing into her office. He'd apparently been listening in.

"Oh, Booth, you startled me. I'd presumed you'd gone for the night," she said a little more coolly than she'd intended.

He stepped into the office fully, not taking his eyes off her, and asked, "Why would I leave without you?"

Her head snapped up, a little more quickly than she'd intended and, as she tried to regain her coolness, he said, "I thought we'd go get dinner and drinks since the case is – ."

"I have plans," she cut him off.

"Yeah, I heard," he mumbled, mostly to himself, though she heard him clearly. She forced herself to continue looking at the papers she'd been fidgeting with on the desk in front of her. "I just thought, you know, we'd celebrate," he said, defeated.

"I presumed you'd be celebrating with Catherine," she remarked. There was a definite edge to her voice and the name "Catherine" was inadvertently emphasized. Ugh, she mentally groaned, Booth will have caught that.

What was that in her voice, he thought. "What do you mean?" he asked, purposefully steadying himself in as relaxed a manner as he could muster. Don't be coy, he thought to himself, she may not pick up on much, but she knows when you're trying to play innocent.

She almost called his bluff but thought the better of it. "I wasn't aware you were anticipating eating with me tonight; you haven't been available very much recently." She was certain there was no edge in her voice this time. No – completely calm, cool and – whatever they say goes with that. He wouldn't famously "read" anything into that. "Now, I really should be going," she finished.

He stood, almost gawking at her for a moment, then in disbelief, almost shouted, "You sound jealous!"

"Ha!" she responded flippantly, attempting to dismiss him.

But he just stepped slightly closer to her and in a lower tone, asked, "Are you?"

She couldn't even look at him. "Jealousy is an irrational reaction to an absurd emotional delusion," she stated, though with less finality than she'd planned. She cupped her hand over her phone on the corner of the desk to pick it up.

He moved closer and placed his hand on top of hers, stopping it from moving. He tilted his head to one side to try to reach her downturned eyes with his, his breath now heavy on the bridge of her nose, and in a barely audible whisper asked, "Bones, are you jealous?"

She raised her head slightly and their eyes met. That was a mistake. Her heart was nearly escaping her chest with every beat, though she knew that wasn't actually physically possible. His breathing quickened when her eyes reached his. The longer he held her gaze, the shallower his breaths were.

She felt as though she couldn't speak, that if she tried to all that would escape her lips would be a betraying moan.

He was sure he couldn't move, that if he tried he wouldn't be able to restrain himself from taking her into his arms where she belonged.

They remained frozen for seconds that seemed like ages when her phone rang again under their cupped hands.