Disclaimer: Clearly not mine, because I was ready to hold off on this moment for about three more years (though the way the show has been going, I don't think that's possible).

A/N: I can't believe I wrote this, based only on a promo/spoiler picture. But it got into my head and wouldn't get out, and while I was writing it my hands were shaking so much I could hardly type. It's a little weird. I also used the (in my opinion) Very Cool Literary Technique of only using his name in parentheses. Basically, I tried to get into Brennan's head, and it was fun.

He's kind of laughing at her, and she wonders if there's any way they can get out of this (probably, if they both protested vehemently, but then, she reasons, they would both be insulted and they would argue for the rest of the day, and she definitely doesn't want that). It's only mistletoe, after all: it's a poisonous parasitic plant that has acquired a romantic symbolism, and it means nothing. So she doesn't argue as he leans towards her (and somehow she's leaning forward too, and she swears she didn't do that on purpose), and of course she's seen him this close up before (because Booth has an underdeveloped sense of personal space) but then her eyes have closed and she's never felt him this close before. She feels his breath on her skin a split-second before she feels his lips, and then they're leaning into each other and somehow still standing upright and somehow her hands find their way to his chest.

And her fingers are curling around the lapel of his jacket, and she notes the flat roughness of the fabric on her fingers, and she can feel his heart beating rapidly through her fingers and hers is matching it, and this is not rational. (This is Booth, and she is rarely rational when it comes to Booth, because Booth is not rational.) And she hardly knows what she's doing (and Booth kisses like she always thought he would, strong and gentle and with a hint of a smile behind it all, like he's only just holding back from grinning) and she can't quite stop herself from doing what she knows is the stupidest thing she's ever done in her life (and she doesn't quite want to, and that terrifies her).

And when she pulls back, after what feels like hours and what feels like seconds and she's no longer sure how much time has passed, she kind of chuckles at him, and he grins embarrassedly back, and then they can't quite look each other in the eye. Her head is reeling and she's trembling and faintly nauseous, and she's never felt like that from a kiss before (but then, she's never done anything quite as stupid as this, because this is Booth and this is worse(better) than anyone she's ever been with before and she's never suppressed biological urges quite as hard as she now realizes she has been).

And for the rest of the day, they try to pretend nothing's happened (and she's not sure whether this is worse or better than if they'd protested, because Booth is being very uncomfortable about it and she's sure that she's no better, because sometimes rationality doesn't work quite the way you'd like it to). There's some sort of an unspoken agreement not to speak of it. But at the end of the day, when he says goodnight to her, his smile is softer and wider than usual and his hand lingers on her back and then she can't sleep at all. (She's not sure if she hates what he does to her or loves it, but she can't deny that he's changed her, for good.)