Yay! New project! I have no idea where this came from, but I'm totally excited. The idea is to write mini fluff drabbles from Booth's point of view. Just 'cause I love to get in the big guy's head. Most of them will focus around Brennan, of course, and all of them will be completely adorable. I'll probably update every few days. Enjoy!

Let me tell you something about Bones: there's this sound she makes when I hug her, this humming in the back of her throat, long and soft. She makes it in that moment when my arms lock around her, when she relaxes into me, all soft and warm and Bones. It's this ridiculous combination of feminine and sexy and sweet that drives me a little crazy while simultaneously making me fall that much more in love with her.

The thing about Bones is that about ninety-nine percent of the time, she's more like a brick wall than a person. She walks around in that lab coat of hers, spouting squint speak and keeping the world at arm's length, her face passive as she bends over victim after victim. She's dazzling in her brilliance, but the other side of her, the softer side, is what I live for. I never know when it's coming. We'll be sitting at the bar, chewing over our latest case and she'll turn to me and say, "I trust you." Or we'll be lying under my sink, so close that I can feel the curve of her hip against my side and she'll admit that despite all our differences, she still feels close to me. And no matter where we are, no matter what we're doing, every single damn time, I'm just knocked sideways by her ability to surprise me, to make me feel again and again, how deep my devotion for her runs.

But that sound she makes. Holy hell, you have no idea. It's like a cat purring. It's a sound that says, "I feel safe in your arms." That moment when she melts into me, her arms around my waist, her head on my chest, that's the moment when all her walls come down. When I can almost pretend that she's mine.

One time she fell asleep. Actually fell asleep, standing there, leaning against me. I wouldn't have noticed except she started to snore. (Cutest damn thing ever, by the way). It reminded me of this one time when Parker was a baby. He was just a few days old and I was standing in the living room, rocking him back and forth to an old Stevie Wonder album. And as we swayed, his head under my chin, two tiny little hands resting on my chest, he fell into a sound sleep and I remember wanting to cry because this tiny, innocent thing trusted me enough to fall asleep in my arms. That's what it felt like with Bones. For different reasons of course. Here was a woman who never let anyone in and here she was with enough trust in me to completely let her guard down, to know I'd never let her fall.

Of course, when she woke up about three seconds later and realized what she'd done, she pulled away, flustered and embarrassed, a tinge of red blooming in her cheeks. I acted casual, even though I was totally touched by the whole thing, and said I'd see her tomorrow. She'd nodded and retreated behind her desk, face red, eyes downcast and I'd left. The next day, she was all business, every last brick securely in place. But I knew she would come around again soon. I knew that sooner or later, that wall would fall again and I'd be there when it did.