A/N: This series had originally started as a one shot series, but it then morphed into a type of fic that will recap B&B's entire relationship while giving (hopefully) a better look at what makes them who they are. It might be a missing scene or a redo of a scene. I made a list of my 50 favorite romance or RomCom movies to serve as inspiration. Lines from each movie that the chapter is based on will appear in italics. If I do this right, it should be a pretty fun ride :) I hope you guys will stick with me while I write this and let me know what you think. I'm going to start working on alternating updates between this and Lifeline.

The movie, When Harry Met Sally, was directed by Rob Reiner and written by Nora Ephron.

Chapter 1: When Harry Met Sally


He picks her up at the Jeffersonian and she climbs into the SUV with a smile. She gives him a once over, looking at the breadth of his shoulders and his strong jaw line again. She and Angela had talked extensively about him and how, the minute the case was over, Angela was going to force Brennan to go after him before a catch like that disappeared. She isn't looking for anything long term, and he looks to be a potentially good lover, so she lets her eyes linger a bit longer than she had before.

At first, the only sound in the car is that of the first few raindrops of the night splattering on the windshield. He steers the car toward a part of town she's unfamiliar with. So she asks where they're going and he tells her he wants to get a drink. It's true that it's to build up his courage, but for what? To fire her? Or is there something else on his mind?

She nods and looks back out the window trying to remember the route he's driving. He glances over to her and takes in her beauty. He doesn't want to fire her, but he wants Caroline's window, so he does what she tells him to. He wonders if she's a mixed drink girl or a beer fan. He can't peg her, so when they arrive at the pool hall and she orders a shot of tequila, he's not exactly surprised. She talks about the case and the Bhang and he's impressed that she could hold her liquor with the best of them.

And he ends it. Their working relationship, that is. She thinks it's because of the Bhang and he just smiles at her frustration, but she seems to be taking it well. He pours more tequila and tells her why. And when that sexy little smirk appears on her face as she leans over, his heart does flip flops in his chest. She says they could have sex. Normally, hook ups like this to him mean crappy sex. But she looks as if crappy sex wasn't in her vocabulary, as if there is no such thing in her world. As he pulls out his phone, he tells her he'll get a cab and she fumbles for her coat. She's running for the door and he can't decide if she's running away from him or if she's just ready for some privacy for the two of them. He stops her on the stoop, the cab driver honking at them impatiently to hurry it up.

She reads his face. Literally. And he's too surprised to be mad at her. He tells her that he gambles and he can't believe he just said that. He mentally slaps his palm to his head for making that comment and he wonders if it'll put a damper on their night. Offhandedly, he tells her why and she asks again. He can barely get the words out of his mouth before she moves closer. His heart does that flip flop thing again and she wonders if she feels it too. It's full of promise of what's to come, but the damn cabbie interrupts again, and she pulls away with a shit eating grin on her face. She darts to the cab and tells him he's not coming home with her and blames it on the liquor. He's disappointed, but wants to know why. The cabbie huffs in annoyance when he tells him to stop again and she rolls down the window when he steps up. She makes the comment that he would never regret sleeping with her and the cab drives off, leaving him standing in the rain, wondering if he just missed a moment.

She turns in the back seat of the cab, watching his figure get smaller as the cab pulls toward the main roads. She waves once and keeps an eye on him until he disappears.

When her cab is gone, he finally realizes he's standing in the street. He peers back up at the flickering neon sign, shoves his hands in his pockets and walks home, pondering what exactly just happened.


The moment she hears his laugh she cringes internally. She had spent the night thinking of him, wondering where he went after she left him in the street. He, on the other hand, had done the same but also decided not to hold a grudge against her for making an offer she never intended to keep. For some reason, he couldn't understand why she was so pissed at him. She sets down the weird looking skull and glares at him. After she brushes him off, he makes up his mind: He's not taking no for an answer. Chop chop, he yells at her and fury boils in her veins. She's never understood that expression, but she knows it means she needs to get a move on.

She snaps at him, telling him she'll drive her own car because she's not sure if she could handle sitting in the car alone with him for who knows how long. He beats her to the parking garage – one positive of having a siren – and he doesn't make the techs wait to begin taking apart the judge's car. She gets out of her car and stands off to the side, watching with a trained eye.

He decides to finally say something and as he guessed, she's beyond pissed. Maybe they had blue balled each other, maybe the kiss they had shared the night before wasn't meant to be. They start bickering and when a tech delivers the news that the car is clean, it ignites another firestorm and she demands that her people at the Jeffersonian should do their own search. Her snarky comment about the best and the brightest work at the Jeffersonian pisses him off just that much more. The tech holds his palm out, the stapes resting in the center and she tells him it goes to the Jeffersonian. She stalks off to her car without waiting to hear what else he might have to say.

But once the judge is sitting in the back of a squad car, he runs to catch up with her. Her small car moves quickly toward the exit and he steps in front of her car. She lays on the brakes, yelling at him to get out of the way because she has work to do. He walks to the driver's side window, putting on the charm smile that had worked her over the first time.

"Bones, come on, can't we be friends? This angry bit we've got going on isn't working."

She looks skeptical and says, "You want to be friends?"

"Well, no."

"No? Which is it?"

"I want to be…amicable when we work together. We can't be friends," he says, remembering something he and his college buddies used to say.

"Why not?" She's impatient to leave, but she is genuinely interested as to what his reason is.

"What I'm saying is, and this is not a come on in any way, shape or form, is that men and women can't be friends because the sex part always gets in the way. Because no man can be friends with a woman he finds attractive. The sex thing is already out there so the friendship is ultimately doomed and that is the end of the story."

"Well, I guess we're not going to be friends, then."

"I guess not."

She nods once and he steps away from her car. She drives off and he's left to wonder if that was the right thing to say. Or if he'll ever get a second chance.