Spoilers/Timeline: None/B&B are in an established relationship

A/N: Many thanks to space77 for letting me throw ideas at her and looking this over.

Disclaimer: Bones doesn't belong to me. Title found in Lady Antebellum's Hello World.

Settling on the floor, she pulled the box close, removing the lid and tossing it behind her. She ran her hand through her hair and sighed, falling back against the base of the couch. Why had she let these go unorganized for so long? Perhaps it was that they'd barely had a day off in the past three months without some new case demanding their attention; never mind that she couldn't remember the last time they'd both been home on a Saturday.

Sweeping Parker's physics report and Booth's hockey pads (why couldn't he put them in the closet with his skates?) to the side, she spread the photos out. Some had flipped over in her haste to separate them and she leaned forward, fingers lingering on the edges as she turned them right side up.

What had made her think that taking up photography would be a good idea? She had limited time as it was between work, writing, and day to day life responsibilities with Booth (and, of course, Parker when he was there), yet something about having a new challenge - something more to learn - had spoken to her. It had proven to be more difficult finding time than she thought, but... she had amassed a fair number of photos in the past four months, many of her favorites composed of Booth or Parker, or both.

She grinned, picking up just such a picture: her boys - no, men - arguing playfully the week before. Booth's face was frozen in mock horror, his arm outstretched, pushing against Parker's shoulder as the boy's mouth curled up in laughter. Booth had tackled him seconds later, but Parker refused to retract his joke (face it Dad, you're old) and she'd stood back snapping pictures as they'd wrestled on the floor, only abandoning them once Booth noticed her laughter and pulled her into the ruckus.

She slipped the photo into the album at her feet, debating about its placement for a moment. Logically it made sense to organize the photos chronologically, in the order taken, but part of her - the part that couldn't stop smiling even at the out-of-focus Booth pulling her towards him - thought they might be better arranged by subject.

Satisfied with the decision, she added similar action shots after it, setting some stills she'd taken of the Jeffersonian gardens to the side to integrate to another section of the book. Her hand closed around the next one in front of her and she felt her brow furrow, wondering how one of Ange's shots - one several years old - had been mixed in with hers.

It was one of Booth bullying her out of Founding Fathers. She was glancing over her shoulder, brows narrowed, their eyes meeting as he propelled them forward. She knew it was taken weeks prior to them entering into a romantic relationship and yet - she bit her lip, her breath catching - the emotion was startling.

"Hey, what are you doi-" he paused in the doorway, eyebrow raising at her soft expression, the look of awe she usually reserved for when some part of the case caught her off guard and suddenly made sense, "you ok, Bones?"

"Yeah, I," she lifted her eyes, turning the picture so he could see it, "how did we not see it?"

"Hmm?" He pushed off the door frame and took a few steps forward before slowly lowering himself to sit next to her.

"How could we not see how... emotionally invested... we were in one another?" She traced his outline in the picture as he leaned forward to get a better look, tucking his chin into her shoulder as he did.

"We were just..." he let his hand run down her arm, grinning as she shuddered and leaned into him, "we were both too afraid to."

"Mmm, that answer seems to be somewhat psychological in its nature, but," she turned meeting his gaze, a wave of comfort sweeping through her, "I concur."

"Whoa, maybe I should write this date down: Bones agreed with me that sometimes there are psychological reasons behind actions." His smile grew, breath warm against her throat as he reached around her to pick another photo off the floor. "What else do we have here?"

"The composition's not quite right in that one," she pointed to the negative space on the edge of the picture of him and Hodgins relaxing on a bench on the Mall, "but it's still quite lovely, isn't it?"

"Well, except for the fact that my jaw looks unhinged because I'm about to take a bite of hot dog..." He studied the image further, the bright blue of the sky, Hodgins' look of disbelief that he was really going to take such a large bite, the sun reflecting off the sidewalk in front of them... "It's actually pretty perfect, Bones."

"Technically, it really isn-"

"Shh, I like how it looks," he slid it into the album, moving to pick up another one, "you captured a single, funny moment and that's what photography's about."

"That's..." she twisted in his arms, brushing her lips against his, "thank you."

"Anytime. Now," He handed her the glossy paper in his hand, "how'd you manage to take this one when you're in it?"

She laughed, settling against him once again. "I didn't, Parker had my camera while I went to get the food for you to put on the grill. I didn't realize he'd even used it until I went to print the pictures."

"Yeah?"

"Yes, there's one of you looking impatient waiting for me to return and then," she ducked her head, eyes traveling over the image again, "I don't know why he took this of you handing me your beer, but... I'm glad he did... it's..."

"Intimate." He whispered it against her jaw, hands pressing into her sides as the picture fluttered to the floor. "Yeah, it is." They sat in silence for a moment, eyes drifting over the memories before them as they relaxed against one another. "You know, we should take a picture now."

"What? Here? Booth, the room's a mess and my tripod is in the car..."

"Yes, here," he twisted, grabbing her camera from its spot on the end table, "and we don't need a tripod."

"Then how are we both going to be in the picture?" She crossed her arms over her chest, unclear on what he was imagining.

"Like this, c'mere," he pulled her close, one arm falling over her shoulder as the other held the camera in front of them. "Ready? One, two, three!"

With a silent click the picture was taken and she grabbed the device from him, eager to see how ridiculous they looked.

The image that she found on the screen made her heart race: it was slightly out of focus, a little off-center; he'd turned right before the shot was taken, their eyes just meeting, the same look from Angela's photo etched deeply on his face. Only now it was... stronger... more... intense...

There was a faint blush to her cheeks and she realized she was staring back at him with the same look of love and wonder. "Look," she let her head fall to his shoulder, raising the camera so they could both see, "perfect."

"Yeah," he pressed a kiss to her temple and sighed, "it really is."