A/N: So, I'm snowed in and I caught GreysIsTheCatsPajamas tweet this morning that today was National Chocolate Covered Anything Day. An idea struck and I couldn't resist her little request. It's not exactly chocolate covered Booth...but there's Booth, and there's chocolate and well...you'll see...

Many thanks to ProfeJMarie for proofreading this. Send warm vibes for a speedy recovery her way...or better yet, check out her Second Natures using the convenient link in my profile. *smile*

This is a Hannah-free Zone. At least for today and for the purposes of this story, she doesn't exist.

Disclaimer: I don't own Bones.


In Love...and Chocolate

It had started innocently enough. Angela decided they had to have a fondue party. Being that her best friend was eight and a half months pregnant, there was no way Temperance Brennan could say no.

So, she had set everything out on her dining room table. There were crisp veggies, tart Granny Smith apples and assorted breads to go with the sharp cheddar fondue. Separate pots of boiling bouillon - one for cooking the vegetables, another for meats. And, of course, there was chocolate.

She had spent hours looking up recipes and tracking ingredients down. She smiles softly as Booth and the squints gather at the end of the table where she begins to prepare the dessert - a rich, dark chocolate with a hint of amaretto.

"The recipe says that all of the alcohol will burn off," she tells everyone as she lights the chocolate before sprinkling cinnamon over the top. There are oohs and aahs as tiny sparks dance over the chocolate before the flame dies out. She stirs it carefully with a wooden spoon. "I'll be right back," she announces.

Slipping into the kitchen, she goes to the refrigerator for the fruit and cubes of cake. She takes stock of the different dessert items to make sure she hasn't forgotten anything. Pineapple chunks, pretzels, marshmallows, pound cake and strawberries. She makes a few adjustments to the positioning of the items and heads back to her guests.

She finds the room empty. She doesn't remember hearing the door.

Booth strolls down the hall from the bathroom. They look at each other quizzically.

"Where is everyone?" she asks.

"Did I miss something?" he says at the same time.

Walking over to the table, she stares down at the tray in her hand. "But dessert was the best part," she pouts.

Booth's cell phone vibrates in his pocket and he pulls it out. A text message. She's all yours, Studly. Don't waste it. He closes his eyes and shakes his head, under his breath he mutters, "Son of a..." he stifles a chuckle.

Brennan looks at him. "What is it, Booth?"

He shoves the phone back into his pocket and rolls up the sleeves of his white, button-down shirt. "Let's dig in," he says, unwilling to broach the subject. He picks up a pretzel and quickly dips it before stuffing it into his mouth.

She smirks at him. "You know something," she says as she places the tray next to the chocolate pot.

Booth smiles uncomfortably. "It appears we've been set up."

She plucks a strawberry from the dish and dips it into the thick topping. "What do you mean?" she asks him.

He watches as she bites into the plump fruit, juice dribbling down her chin and chocolate staining her lips. He almost moans watching as she licks her them and uses her hand to wipe away the juice. He tries not to think about how badly he wants to kiss her.

It takes effort to keep his breathing steady as he gets closer to his partner. He grabs a marshmallow and dunks it in the topping. "Angela," he says, as he pops the fluff into his mouth. He moans approvingly. "This is really good," he says as he reaches for more. Anything to keep his mouth full and his mind elsewhere.

"This whole thing was her idea," Brennan protests. "You know how much she loves chocolate."

He struggles with what to tell her. Honesty wins out. "She wanted to give us a chance to be alone."

"But there's plenty of dessert for everyone," she says, her brow furrowing. "I don't understand."

He shakes it off. She could be amazingly dense. "I should do this with Parker sometime," he says, trying to change the subject.

She smiles. "Given that your son shares your love of sweets, I imagine he would enjoy that quite a lot."

Their hands touch as they grope for the same berry. She lets him take it and reaches for something else. He dips it, but instead of putting it into his own mouth, he holds it out to her.

She bites down on it delicately and smiles. She realizes it's more about the sweetness of the gesture than it is about the fruit. "Booth..." she sighs in expression of her pleasure.

He can't take it any longer. He takes the single step necessary to close the gap between them and cups the side of her face. Using the pad of his thumb he half wipes, half smears the candy-coating on her lips in the direction of her cheek. He lowers his face to hers but instead of kissing her, he licks the sticky trail left behind by his thumb. His tongue traces over the corner of her mouth. For a heartbeat, he pauses there.

One of her hands flies up to rest in the center of his chest and the other cradles the back of his neck as she turns her lips to his. The kiss is searing and their arousal is heightened by the chocolate.

"Bones," he says as he pulls himself away. His breathing is erratic as his hands stroke up and down her arms. "I lo...Look I think there's something I..."

She squeezes her eyes shut and he worries she's going to take it back. That she'll say kissing him had ben a mistake. Then she laughs. She laughs and it's musical. "I'm so sorry," she says, her shoulders shaking as she giggles.

"What? Why?" he asks confused by her behavior. "Why?"

She points at his shirt. She holds up her hand. Where it had rested, there is now a glob of chocolate and crushed pound cake.

Booth grins his charm smile before taking hold of her wrist. His tongue snakes over her palm and she shivers. He kisses his way up her arm to her elbow, where he pulls it around his neck.

With her free hand, she toys with the top button of his shirt as he holds her in his arms.

"There's something I need to tell you," he says.

His serious tone makes her smile fade. "Oh, God, Booth. It's not the tumor..."

"Tumor? No, Bones, it's..." he captures her hand and holds it in his. "I love you. I should have told you before now, I just..."

She smiles at him and begins to tug the buttons on his shirt free. When she pushes it from his shoulders, it puddles on the floor. He watches as she dips her fingers into the chocolate and raises them to his body. His eyes close as he feels her begin to write on his bare chest.

Her fingers draw the letter I and he sucks in air as her tongue slips over his heated flesh. He doesn't move. Instead he waits. He hears the spoon. Her fingers are back. She's drawing again. This time, lower. L - pause, lick - O - pause, lick, kiss - V - pause, sigh, lick - E - pause.

His brain short circuits. Did his partner just...? His eyes snap open and he looks down to see her pink tongue popping out to wash the E away.

"Bones," he says softly. Enchanted and in awe, he drags her lips back to his and plunders her warm mouth. Their tongues meld together. The always carefully controlled Booth looses it. His hands touch the side of her blouse and he pulls the knot that holds it shut free. He runs his fingers over the lace edging of her bra in a ghosting caress.

Brennan whimpers as the fabric pools at her feet. He spins her around suddenly and she gasps. He dips his own fingers in the chocolate and drags them down her neck. His tongue draws a moan from her. "Booth," she utters.

But he isn't finished. He laps up the candy-coating as he makes her way down to her lower back. There, he writes a message of his own. M - I - N - E. She may not want to be marked, but that spot? That spot is his.

They meet again, face-to-face, in a hot kiss. Tongues and hands wander. Brennan feels her back being pressed against the wall as he grinds against her.

"What are we doing?" he asks, stopping to look into her eyes. He's too old to be controlled by his libido. He's not going to give her any excuse to turn tail and run, to claim that this was strictly about biological urges. That after thinking about it, she realized she wasn't in love with him, that her reaction and the words were a product of some chemical imbalance in her overly scientific brain.

Frowning, she pulls back. "You're right," she says softly, her voice so low he has to strain to hear her. "We're partners, we shouldn't..."

He pulls her against his chest. He looks into her eyes as he entangles a hand in her hair. He takes her mouth. The kiss is rough. It's tinged with possession. "No," he says when he pulls back. "This -" he gestures between them "- is definitely happening." He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "I want you," he tells her as he looks into the ocean of her eyes. "But not now. Not like this."

"Booth..." she says, reaching out to him.

He takes her hand and pulls her away from the wall in the direction of their shirts. He picks up his shirt and grimaces as he attempts to button it. "Come on," he says with a nod to the door. "Walk me out."

She looks at him. Her eyes are unsure. She opens her kiss swollen mouth and looks at him as if she's going to say something, only to stop herself.

As her hand closes over the knob, he forces her back against the door. His eyes burn into hers as he makes his next statement. "Oh, this definitely happened," he says as he kisses her. He traces her upper lip with his tongue. "And it's going to happen again," he traces over her bottom lip. "Everyday. Until you're convinced that we can, in fact, have it all."

He takes her lips again. This kiss holds a passionate promise. It's filled with years of patience and longing. And it steals her breath, leaving her wanting but hopeful.

He opens the door to let himself out, carefully blocking her half naked form from the hallway. He dips his head and plucks her lips a final time. "See ya tomorrow, Bones."

"Yeah," she answers her head resting against the edge of the door, a smile tugging at her lips. "Tomorrow."

And then he's gone. Brennan sighs and leans back against the door. She looks around her apartment. Thick brown goo stains the light colored paint on the wall in the dining room and drips down the edge of the fondue pot. She touches her neck and draws away yet more signs of a chocolate covered afternoon. She can't help but smile thinking about Booth and what a sweet mess they're getting into.

She doesn't know it yet, but love is sweet. It's also messy and complicated. In some ways, you might say it's a lot like chocolate.