IMPORTANT NOTES (MUST READ): Due to the plentiful reviews I got from this story, it's inspired me to make this story the first in "The Secret" series. There will be another posted involving everyone's favorite crime solvers ASAP. Haven't decided on title for next one yet.

Chapter Five: Christmas Day

12:02 a.m.

Brennan didn't really know how to start this inevitable conversation. She wished she'd written it out on paper, it would've made this all even a little easier. She wasn't one to just talk openly about her feelings, especially with Booth. Sure, they'd debated points of view on several subjects, the one at hand included, many times, usually with onlookers. But now, here alone with Booth with only one thing to talk about, made her feel something that she hadn't felt in a long time: nauseous.

"You want me to start?" Booth said through the Santa beard.

If there was one thing that he could do, if it were possible, he could read her mind like an open book. "Please?"

He breathed a long, heavy sigh. Apparently this wasn't easy for him either. He scratched the back of his head, wracking his brain for a way to start this awkward talk.

"How long have you known me?"

"A few years." she supplied the easy answer.

"In those years, how many times have we had each others backs in tough situations?" he threw the hat aside.

Brennan buried her head in her hands, not having to even think about the answer, "Every time." she whispered.

The response barely made it to his ears. Booth tucked a hand under her chin to bring her eyes to meet his own. She'd never seen his eyes so dark. "Why do you think that is, Bones?"

She stuttered. For once, Temperance Brennan didn't know what to say to someone. She paused, breathed, and tried again. "T-The first case you brought me out in the field for, you told me that partners share things. T-that it builds trust." In her own mind, she sounded like an idiot.

In Booth's, she sounded…human, feminine almost. "That's a hundred percent true, but do you think that there could be…other reasons?" he asked.

Neon blue met chocolate brown. The electricity that had been sparking there in those gazes for years was no longer deniable. To quote a famous play, they were past the point of no return.

"There's no way I can go back to work in two days and not think about what's changed here." he stated evenly. His head dropped to the floor.

"I don't know if I can either." Brennan finally spoke a full sentence as her eyes returned to the oak floor.

She was confused to an unending hell. She wanted to be with Booth so badly and didn't even realize it till this moment. All those dreams she'd had on those cold, lonely nights always involved him. Those 'guy hugs' that seemed to drag on a little longer than necessary. Now, that kiss. Her mind swirled with thoughts of what was happening while fighting a losing battle with her heart. Brennan was so warped by her internal war, she wasn't aware of the tear that had tracked down her cheek.

Booth hadn't missed it. He was right there, his thumb gently stroking away the only sign of weakness she'd allotted herself every blue moon. With this gentle motion, he'd successfully returned her gaze to him. Her eyes seemed to change colors more often than a disco ball. More often than not, they were a cerulean blue, but sometimes they would fade to a charcoal gray, or occasionally a lime green. But Booth didn't know what to call this color. It seemed all of those hues came together in those twin pools of confusion and frustration. They were as deep blue as he'd ever seen them with little specks of green and gray there to cloud that sea blue. That gaze alone could silently kill a man, namely him.

There was only one thing that Booth could think to do to reassure her. He held her cheek in his hand still, gently scrubbing away the unwanted liquid. He moved in closer, so obviously in her personal space bubble. Without giving himself the chance to talk himself out of it, he kissed her soundly.

She didn't resist. Brennan was far past trying to fight what made her feel so alive. She couldn't explain to herself what it was or when it got there, and frankly, she didn't care to know. This was just a feeling of…happiness.

When they'd broken apart to breathe, Booth was the one to speak.

"I care about you, Bones, and not just as a friend."

She knew it was coming, but still couldn't get over the shock that those three simple words sent up her trembling spine. Her face flushed and her she tried to draw on her shaking lungs.

Booth had to speak again with her silence. "Somewhere, I think I always have."

"I…" Brennan couldn't form her words into sentences. "What am I supposed to say?" "You say what you feel, Tempe." "If you do that, you run the risk of getting hurt." "Remember what Booth said: all the hurt in the world is worth the love." Her heart and her head dueled viciously.

"Booth,…I've felt these weird feelings for a long time around you. Don't get me wrong, they feel good, but…" she fought for words, "I feel more than friendship towards you. I find myself wondering what you think of me, taking extra time in the morning to look good, I even started wearing perfume a few months ago."

"I noticed. It smells great, by the way." he acknowledged.

"It makes me feel like an idiot. Then sometimes I get this peculiar feeling deep in my gut that's not really like nausea and it's not indigestion…"

"Butterflies."

"If you mean it feels like butterfly wings beating in my stomach, then yes, that's an accurate description of what I've been experiencing." she whispered softly.

Booth stroked her back soothingly. He knew this wasn't a cakewalk for her and tried to provide as much comfort as he could in such an awkward situation. "Bones, would it make you feel better if we just kept this little shift in our relationship secret from everyone else for a little while…until we adjust ourselves?"

She thought about the idea of having a secret. It would give her time to investigate her own emotions further without feeling the pressure that would most certainly come from Angela. "Yes, I think that would make me more comfortable…if I don't go and unknowingly tell someone."

He laughed.

"What?" she asked.

"If you don't go and blow it, Bones."

"Alright, whichever you like best." she chuckled.

He held her eyes again with his deep brown ones again. This time, he went for the whole-hearted passionate kiss. The single factor that made this one the best yet was the fact that she'd met him halfway.

Nothing else mattered anymore. No one had to know what had happened on this fateful trip for a while. No one had to notice the shift in the lives of the anthropologist and her F.B.I. agent. The secret would be kept for as long as possible.

***

Thank you so much for reading "Jingle Bones". It really has started new thoughts in my head. Please keep an eye out for my next installment in this new series that this story inspired called "The Secret Series".