Authors Note: *Shakes off rust* Well, here it is. Finally a chapter 7 that I can be mildly proud of. I hope everyone enjoys, and always reviews are welcome. I do not suppose there should be any warnings for this chapter but lets just put one on just in case I missed something.

Warnings: language

By the end of the day, my shirt was wrinkled and my hair was disheveled. I had a five o clock shadow that was becoming itchy and my feet were dragging irritating the already aching sciatic nerve. I entered my apartment drowsy and irritated, with a shred of hope slithering its way to the surface. She wasn't afraid of me and she never would be. It had been the music to my ears that pushed me through the seemingly endless files on my desk. She had kissed my cheek and wiped away the lip gloss before the elevator doors opened and invited its riders in. I should have smiled at her, kissed her back or brushed the hair from her face. But I didn't; afraid of pushing a tender moment too far. Instead, I just said okay and let her ride the elevator back down to the main level without me.

Now as I stare into the wall mirror in my slightly dingy bathroom, I study the crows feet at the edges of my eyes, observing how dull the brown looks in my eyes. How gray the shadow of a beard looks on my tan cheeks. She's never seen me with my so called beard grown out. I've always been clean shaven and for a minute I think of leaving it. But my rigid routine kicks in and I'm lathering the cream on my face and dragging the sharpened blade down in clean strokes. The water is no longer warm as I splash the remnants of Barbosal off; and in the moment of towel drying my now smooth as butter cheeks I catch the once empty brown begin to glow and highlight. I smile and undress myself before climbing in the shower where I list off the things I need to do before she arrives for a dinner.

By the time I hear her small knuckles rapping on my door, the candles are lit, the wine is breathing in the center of the table, and the spaghetti is staying warmed on the stove. I check my appearance in the hall mirror before I swing the door open. I watch her jump back slightly and her hair brushes back from the rush of air. I catch the scent of her perfume and I know my pupils are dilating, my cheeks reddening. I shift on my feet trying to adjust the crotch of my jeans subtly and I feel ashamed in front of her that just the sight of her unwinds me. She steps by me and even though she's trying to be subtle I catch the tentiveness anyway.

"Booth, this is all very nice. But I must admit I'm a little unsure about trying your cooking. I don't believe you have ever made food for me."

"Pops taught me how to cook in high school. Said I'd need to learn when I had a family. It's good, I promise. I followed the recipe to a tee."

"Can't wait. What kind of wine?"

"Uh, some red from 2012. Nothing fancy. At least, not the fancy that you are used to."

"I can drink most wines Booth. Sometimes the more expensive are no better than the least expensive. When do we eat?"

"Now. Unless you'd like to wait. I'm not sure how long the spaghetti can sit on the stove before it becomes sticky."

"How long has it been sitting there?"

"A few minutes."

"It should be fine to wait, but if you're hungry, serve it."

My fingers were shockingly shaky and weak as they wrapped around the forked spoon and lifted a generous pile of marinara noodles onto her plate. Serving the lady first I see. Will she be serving us later Seeley? Oh how I hope so. She smells quite delectable. I gritted my teeth in an attempt to disregard the thoughts. She was stunning tonight, in a casual way. She could be wearing a brown paper sack and she'd be beautiful. Her perfume was radiant as well, not too strong to burn the nostrils or cause headache. But just perfect for a waft as she walked by of if one leaned in too close. Lean in Seeley. I dished my plate and sat before her draping a napkin in my lap, casting a careful glance up at her.

She was smiling over her glass of wine, the red tinging her lips subtly. I guessed she would like it, I had gone to her favorite wine store on the way home from the office and consulted the cashier that saw her the most frequently. She was saying something to me, her lips were moving with grace and her eyes were twinkling.

"Booth. Are you not listening?"

Her brows were furrowed now, and she was staring at me intently and in dragging my eyes from her lips, I realized I had been staring and in fact, not listening to her.

"I'm sorry. Lot on my mind with the case and all. What were you saying?"

"I was saying that I was really thankful you were able to get your transfer reversed. I was…nevermind. I'm just glad you get to stay."

"No, it's okay Bones. What? What were you?"

A cautious reach of my hand across the table towards hers brought a flinch from her and I felt my chest tighten and stinging pain accompany it. Closing my fingers in, I retracted my hand and allowed her to speak. Even if her eyes diverted from my face in hopes of finding solitude and ease elsewhere.

"I was…Afraid I suppose. I really didn't want you to go. Especially on the terms that we were on."

"What terms were we on Bones?"

My voice was barely there, a whisper in the room. I was shocked she had even heard me, but when those crystal blue eyes met mine, there was something in them. A flash of something. Anger? Hurt? Pain? Sadness or regret? I didn't know, but I wanted to find out, so that I could ease it. Reassure her that I wasn't ever going to hurt her.

"I do not think we were on very good terms Booth. Did you?"

"No."

The answer came back and I realized she had stopped eating and was leaning back against her chair. Was she trying to get away from me? Could you blame her if she was Seeley? No, I sure couldn't. Coax it out of her Seeley.

"I didn't think so. I was so upset that you were apologizing; I thought I had done something wrong. Like I hadn't pleased you or that I made you to believe that I wasn't enjoying myself. But after laying in bed for awhile, I came to the conclusion that that's not at all why you were apologizing. Regardless of my telling you that it was pleasurable, you felt as if you betrayed me. That you hurt me and destroyed the trust between us. You were apologizing for acting in your own benefit. But I don't recognize that apology because I don't believe you did any of those things. However, I will accept it for your benefit because I know what it will do to you if I don't reassure you. You'll feel guilty and allow it to consume you. And you'll make rash decisions like this morning. That's far from anything I want I-"

"What do you want?"

I had cut her off, and I could see that she was taken aback by it, but I continued to hold her stare, silently urging her to respond.

"In this moment I do not know. But what I do know is that I will not work with another agent. I assure you, I will sabatoge every encounter and send them back. I want to work with you, regardless of how you feel. I will always trust you, I will always be there for you. I know you Booth, I know you did not hurt me, you did not even set out to hurt me. What happened was, unconventional in most relationships. But, for me it was delightful."

She reached for my curled fist across the table and smoothed her thumb across my knuckles making my fingers relax and unfold.

"If you are inclined, I would not mind…Starting over. Giving you the chance to do something different. You had said in the elevator that it wasn't supposed to happen like that. Well, how bout we see how it was supposed to happen? In your mind, show me. I would be okay with that."

She was consenting so much from me. Her choice; her decision without my influence. My ehart clenched, she wanted me to love her. That's how it was supposed to go. I was supposed to appreciate her, love on her, make it all about her and her pleasure. And she was offering me the chance to do so.