A/N: A little pre-Easter, sweet-as-candy Booth stream-of-consciousness fluff. Strong T for references to the naughty.

Loves!

--

Taking special care to move noiselessly, he paused just shy of the entryway of the kitchen, peering around the corner.

There she was, sitting at his dinette, brow furrowed in interest at the magazine she was reading.

Relief flooded him, followed almost immediately by panic that caused him to snap back to his less-visible position.

Seeley, you jackass. What if she sees you back here, hiding like some sort of shy puppy? You're a soldier, for Christ's sake. Pull it together.

Easing around the corner again, he took inventory of her once more, sitting back and wearing the black Roger Waters t-shirt that he had discarded on the floor last night. Her unbrushed, wavy hair hung over her cheek, and one of her feet was propped against the table leg. His eyes traveled up and down her bare, extended leg, the sight immediately bringing back unbidden memories…

Underneath him, chest heaving, head thrown back and eyes closed, she had wrapped those legs around him, ankles crossed delicately above his ass and the stimulation of all the sights and scents and sounds and feelings overcame him and he lost all control, pulsing into her with a moan. Her eyes opened and studied him.

"Did you…?"

"Yeah." God, his first time with the woman of his dreams and he was like a fucking teenager…but as he looked down into her flushed face and those blue, blue eyes, all his energy returned in a massive rush and surged through his groin.

Her face registered surprise. "Can we…?"

"Oh yeah," he breathed, using his weight to flip her over and on top of him.

She gasped delightedly and let out a sexy giggle that locked in the guarantee that this time, they would be doing this for far longer than fifteen minutes.

He gulped, shifting his weight, and the hardwood floor made a noticeable creak that caused her to look up from her magazine in surprise.

Shit.

"Oh, you're up," she said, with a small smile.

Having been spotted, he had no choice but to walk into the room cautiously. "Yeah," he replied, his voice coming out like a croak. He was suddenly, keenly aware of the cool floor against his bare feet, and the cool air against his bare chest.

What should he do? Give her a kiss? A hug? Should he sit down and begin the serious conversation that they were going to have to have, eventually?

"Do you have coffee?" she asked. "I was going to make some, but I wasn't sure where you kept everything…"

"Yes! Coffee! Of course." Glad to be given a task, he hurried over to the cupboards and began pulling out supplies…the beans, the grinder, the filters. "How do you want your coffee?"

She eyed him curiously.

God she looked good. That t-shirt had never been filled out so well. Not even on his best day at the gym.

"You've brought me coffee at least twice a week for four years. You know how I take it," she told him.

Jesus, Seel. Of course. STUPID.

"Oh. Right." He wasn't used to this…knowing someone so very well before sleeping with her. He opened his refrigerator…please have skim milk please have skim milk please…DAMN. "Um. I only have 1%."

"That's fine." She was starting to look concerned. "Are you okay, Booth?"

Booth. She was the first woman to scream out his last name in bed…and have it sound so very natural. In fact, just her saying it now was giving him goosebumps. Damn, he needed to get a shirt or a robe or something…

"I'm fine." Except I'm not entirely sure I'll ever be able to look you in the eye without kissing you again. And if you go into some "biological imperative that we should not partake in together" speech right now, I may just cry like a little girl. "What are you reading?" he said, trying desperately to distract her from the fact that he had turned into a stuttering tool.

She lifted the magazine and showed him the cover.

National Geographic? Where the hell did she dig that up? Oh yeah…Max had convinced him to get a subscription about a year back, telling him it was a good way to enrich Parker. He had been pleased with Parker's enthrallment with the first issue, and after the kid stared at it for a good 15 minutes he asked his son what he was learning. He said, "That ladies in Africa don't wear any shirts." Booth had canceled the subscription the next day.

"Awh, Bones, that's not something you do on a Saturday morning," he told her. The one scientific thing in his house, and she managed to find it.

Her lips pursed. "Well, despite the absence of peer-review, the articles are relatively informative, and accompanied by high-quality photography." She paused. "What do you usually do on Saturday mornings?"

There was no way she didn't remember…

"Oh. You watch cartoons, don't you?" She brightened. "We can watch cartoons."

Shit. She remembered.

He whirled around after punching the power button on the coffee maker. "No!!"

He could think of no better way to bore her out of his house than by subjecting her to the Looney Tunes he loved so much. And for God's sakes, as much as she terrified him right now, he didn't want her to leave.

Her face fell. "Why?"

"Because I don't think you'd like them, that's all."

Well, hell, now he'd gone and hurt her feelings. Stupid, stupid…

"Well, admittedly, I've never quite understood the entertainment value of a large, anthropomorphic rabbit with a feckless disregard for highly dangerous situations, but…" She paused, brow furrowed, considering. "Well, actually, now that I say it that way, it does sound somewhat amusing."

Wha--? Feckless? Anthropo-what? Was she talking about Bugs Bunny?

He gaped at her, her face a picture of deliberation over a cartoon bunny, and the obvious suddenly struck him in a giant rush.

This was Bones.

For God's sake, he wasn't nervous around Bones.

It took three strides for him to cross the room to the table and lift her from the seat, kissing the surprise from her lips and tangling his fingers into that deliciously messy hair. He slipped the fingers of his other hand up the back of the t-shirt, feeling the skin he was finally allowed to touch.

"Never change," he whispered against her mouth. "Never leave."

She returned his kiss sweetly, despite her confusion. "I'm pretty sure we'll have to leave at some point. At least, for work. But…I don't think I'm going to change?"

Thank God.

He pulled away from her reluctantly, knowing that if he continued, he'd never be able to stop.

She smiled at him. "Coffee?"

Coffee…Skim milk, no sugar, daffodils, Jupiter, organic red wine, Thai food, right side of the bed.

Before going back to the coffee pot, he hit the power button on the counter TV, Elmer Fudd's loud lisp suddenly filling the room. While he busied himself pulling mugs from the cupboards, she watched the show intently.

"Whaddya think, Bones?" he asked, watching with amusement her intense expression.

"Well…" She hesitated. "It was very socially aware of them to feature a character with an articulation disorder."

He just smiled. New life. Same Bones.

I love you, Temperance Brennan.