I guess I'm in a writing mood, but here's another short and sweet story. Kinda late, but enjoy :)

It's nearing six in the morning, and Booth can't sleep. He's lying on his side, his hand under his pillow, propping his head up slightly. He's looking at Brennan, who's sleeping peacefully beside him, tangled in the sheets, her hair matted to her face with dried sweat. All he can think about is how damn beautiful she looks even in her sleep and what happened just an hour ago.

He wants to look into her clear blue eyes and see his reflection, to kiss her again, feel her lips and tongue against his skin, feel her weight pressed against his chest, feel her hot breath brush against him, and have her hands run through his hair over and over again, her nails grazing his scalp.

Brennan stirs, but only rolls onto her back. She lets out a breath, which blows her bangs up. They brush against her eyelashes as they fall back down, and then she's still again, the sheets displaced.

He looks at her and his mind wanders. She looked incredible in just his sweatshirt, but damn, seeing her in nothing, seeing her so vulnerable and exposed, she looked amazing and sexy and even more beautiful to him. He had wiped away her tears, let her cry in his arms, and just let her calm down. Then she lifted her head, that's when their eyes met, and she leaned in for a kiss. There was no warning, she just, she just did it. Her hand brushed against his jaw as she put everything she had behind that kiss. All the sadness, the regret, the passion, it all collided. He could feel it.

He kissed her back and it wasn't long before he was yanking that sweatshirt off of her, letting his hands wander up and down her bare skin. He seriously felt like he was dreaming. After all, he had had this exact dream—her walking into the bedroom early in the morning and crawling into bed with him. But it wasn't a dream. It happened. He's glad it happened…

But he's lying here, watching her sleep and feeling guilty. He shouldn't, but he does. He feels like he took advantage of the situation, of her. She was grieving, overwhelmed by emotions she had tried so long to suppress, but she made the first move, so he shouldn't feel guilty for giving in. He's strong, but he's not that strong. He's done it before, fallen into bed with the wrong women, but he knows this isn't the same thing. At least, he wants to believe it's not the same thing.

He loves her. He's never stopped. He believes in fate, so he believes that this happened for a reason—him asking her to stay at his place, her coming in needing his comforting words and touch, them holding each other until one of them couldn't hold out any longer. It's all fate. Something big had to push them together, knock out the rest of her imperviousness, quell the tiny bit of anger that still lingered inside him, and that something was what brought them together as partners in the first place—murder.

So he shouldn't feel guilty for something that was meant to happen, right? He shifts on the mattress and rolls onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. As he thinks to himself, his guilt slowly falls away, but what replaces it is confusion. What happens now?

Brennan tugs on the sheets and her eyes flutter open. She blinks and looks around the room. She reorients herself and realizes exactly where she is—she's in Booth's bed, in Booth's bedroom, in nothing but Booth's sheets. "Booth?"

He nods. "Hmm, yeah, Bones?"

"What happens now?" She questions, turning her head towards him.

She sounds so innocent, so young, so sweet, almost sad, and he can't help but roll over and face her. He reaches his hand out and brushes it against her cheek, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear. One side of his mouth curves into a smile, the other side following, and his brown eyes flicker in the darkness. She looks even more beautiful when she's awake, he thinks, staring at her.

She scoots closer to him and rests her hand on his chest, scrunching her fingers a little, her blue eyes melting into his brown eyes, her smile less sweet now. It's more of a smirk. Her face begins to fall when he doesn't say anything. "Oh." She gets the message, or the message she thinks he's sending her by his silence.

His chest tightens with that one little sound. He lowers his head and their lips meet. It's a warm, delicate kiss, but as she reciprocates the kiss, his whole body tingles, his lower half going numb. He shivers and pulls back, pressing another kiss to her forehead. "I don't know, Bones. I know, but I don't know. Does that make sense?"

"No."

He laughs.

She runs a finger down his bare chest, her head tilted back slightly, so she can look into his eyes. "Maybe we can try to be together," she whispers, her voice trailing off. "See what happens."

He nods. "Yeah, I'm all for giving us a chance," he says after a brief pause. He needed some time to pull himself away from her eyes long enough to speak and think coherently.

She slides up even closer to him, letting her head fall to his shoulder. She curves her body into his and closes her eyes. "Thanks, Booth."

He places a kiss on the top of her head and slings his arm around her back. He smiles. "You're welcome, Bones." He knows exactly why she's thanking him, and it has nothing to do with agreeing to give them a chance or the sex. "Always."

She tilts her head and pushes her lips against his jawbone, kissing him.

"This is fate, Bones."

She laughs. "There's no such thing as fate, Booth," she slurs as she drifts back to sleep.

He laughs and lets himself fall asleep again. Tomorrow he's on a mission to catch a bad guy, but right now, he's just focused on living in the moment, dreaming about the next 30, 40, or 50 years.

Hope you liked it :)