Bones got embarrassed and guilty about the stupidest things sometimes, honestly. It was a silly question, one that didn't need to be asked, and that was the sole reason why Jim had moved past it so easily. Not because he minded talking about it, simply because the fact that he didn't regret any of this was made abundantly clear by all the little things he kept doing for Bones.

Also the fact he kept sleeping in his bed. Their bed? Whatever, details.

"On it," he nodded and went to the fridge to get them lemonade— the one thing he'd managed to make successfully tonight. The table was already set otherwise, so Jim only brought along a box of matches, setting down the jar of lemonade first, then using a match to light up the two small candles on the table between their plates, next to the tiny flower arrangement.

What? Just because he'd messed up the original recipe didn't mean he wasn't sticking to everything else he had planned for the night.