Hello, Hello! I have not seen the last couple of episodes so I am just going off reviews. From what I can gather (Spoilers!), Booth proposed, Blondie said no and then her threw the ring and the box into the reflecting pool? If that is incorrect then I apologise but for the sake of this fic it is the case. Also, for the sake of this fic, Parker still has enrichment classes with Max.
Now, I know that most of you aren't into poetry. Well, sorry but this one has poetry in it. They are poems from my other story that I will delete off my profile but you may have read. I originally posted them as a diary/journal entry system but have decided to encorporate them into a fic.
I am really quite nervous about doing this - particularly because the poetry did not get a good response. So, please, if you like it - let me know, if you don't like it then you're also welcome to leave constructive critisism. I really do appreciate your input.
Thank you reading and please enjoy!
Bones is not mine
Temperance Brennan was at her usual spot – completely absorbed in the scrutiny of a clean set of remains. From where he stood at the glass entrance to the lab, Booth shook his head at how unaware of her surroundings she was.
Swiping his card through the platform's security, it wasn't until he was beside her that she noticed him.
"Booth! What are you doing here?"
A slight blush crept over her cheeks and did not go unnoticed. "What? We're working on a case, Bones, can't I check up on the squint development?"
"Lately, Booth, your communication with the team has been conducted via telephone or internet. Your presence in the lab has been infrequent since your return from Afghanistan." Her brows creased, "Besides, we do not have anything further to add to our last report. Science cannot be rushed, Booth."
He diverted his gaze with an awkward shrug, "Yeah, well, I also came to pick up Parker. It's his day with Max."
Disappointment flickered briefly through her eyes before her guard re-assembled, "Oh... I haven't seen him yet... normally he comes and visits me when he has completed his lesson."
Brennan checked her watch with confusion.
"I'm a little early. Listen, I gotta borrow your computer to send some attachments, save me having to go back to the Hoover with Parks?" He waved a USB stick in front of him in explanation.
"Yes, of course." She turned back to her examination of the bones, "Use the laptop in my office – it's already on."
"Ok. Thanks Bones."
oOoOo
Sliding into his partner's hoity toity, leather-bound excuse for an office chair, Booth brushed his finger over the touchpad and plugged in his USB stick, bringing the screen to life. Just as he was about to open the email browser, an icon on her desktop caught his eye.
Unable to resist his curiosity, he opened the file The Journey in the Journal and clicked onto the first document. Expecting to get a glimpse of her most recent novel, his interest piqued even more so when he found himself reading verse...
It's been two months and now I wonder,
If you're safe or if you're scared.
My mind begins to wander,
Over what it was that we once shared.
...
I'm torn between two variables,
Could it be as simple as you say?
Heart and brain, Bones – heart and brain,
Could it really be that way?
His heart suddenly constricted momentarily, followed by a crescendo of guilty thumps as he recognised what it was that he had stumbled upon. Before his conscious mind could stop him, Booth copied and pasted the whole file onto his USB drive, closed the document and slammed the lid of her computer shut.
Willing his heart to slow its thunderous tempo, he sat contemplatively frozen for what could have been minutes before laughter filtered through his shocked daze.
"That's so cool! So what do you do with the bugs when they've eaten everything off the bones? How long does it take for them to eat up a person? If I held them would they try and eat me too even though I am alive? How come they don't leave little buggy bite marks?" Parker's voice was excited and full of curiosity.
Booth pocketed the stick before rushing out to join the excitement.
"Hey Max. Hey Bud! Whatdya learn today?" Booth chuckled lightly trying to cover his nervous tension.
"Refection and refraction."
"That sounds exciting. How about you tell me about it in the car?" Booth made a grab for Parker's backpack and hurried his son to the stairs of the platform.
"But, Dad! What about Bones and Uncle Max? We always go for milkshakes after class!" with a mumble, he clarified, "...well... we used to."
"Yeah, next week, Parker, I promise. Right now, Bones has a case to solve and your mum wanted you back earlier today so you can get packed for school camp."
Parker sighed and rolled his eyes with childlike drama, "Ohh-kay! Seeya Bones. Seeya Uncle Max."
oOoOo
Not until after midnight, after he had dampened his burning conscience with liquid confidence did Booth finally get to open his computer. As he sat on his couch in the dark, waiting for it to turn on, Booth struggled to calm the nervous rhythm of his heart.
He knew that, by all standards, this was wrong but, given how far out of control the whole situation had gone, it couldn't make him any worse a man than he already was.
The truth of the matter was that this whole Hannah thing had snowballed. What has started out as a random breach of his morality, a momentary lapse of self control – an adrenalin fuelled, fig tree shadowed tryst in the desert, had then existent on the basis of obligation and duty.
Not that Hannah was an obligation. Nor was Hannah a consolation prize. She just was never meant to happen in the first place. On a subconscious level, Booth knew that, initially, he was simply using her to allay the anger, resentment and feelings of rejection that had consumed him in Afghanistan; the anger that was only exacerbated by Brennan's lack of contact.
Booth knew that it was purely sex. His moral conscience justified it by making it something it wasn't and he was just too proud to admit it. So, it snowballed. Then he simply resigned himself to his fate. He reasoned he had made his bed – he may as well go ahead and sleep in it.
Over time his conscience was deadened and desensitised. After all, she certainly was easy on the eye and easy to love, easy to flaunt and easy to validate. She was pretty easy all 'round, really.
His little live-in living lie was going ok until Brennan's confession during the Eames case. But, once again pride got in the way and he couldn't simply admit Hannah for what Hannah really was, declare his shortcomings and make amends with the one who truly held his heart.
No, in a desperate attempt to avoid the guilt he knew would taunt him if he ended things the proper way, he proposed.
It was the old adage that if you lie once – you spend a lifetime lying to protect the original deception.
He knew that she wasn't the marrying type so, either she would carry the burden of guilt for a breakup, or, if she had said "yes", he would accept the result of his choices and marry her. After all, that's what he had always wanted right – a wife?
Looking at it now, it was no wonder to him that he'd fallen on the crutch of alcohol. Turns out, his guilt was substantially more that if he had simply been honest. Every time his true intentions bubbled into his conscious thoughts, his natural reflex was to deaden them into oblivion.
So, here he was, sitting there with the computer in his lap, scotch is hand and a thousand thoughts running through his mind. Seeley Booth was not certain of what to expect.
Whether he wanted confirmation of Bones' feelings or justification for his, no one could know for sure. Perhaps he simply required ammunition with which to beat himself up in self hated lamentation.
Whatever the case, it would certainly serve as a catalyst for change and he knew there would be nothing with the strength enough to deaden the blow.
Like a gambler throwing control to the wind, Booth opened the first document.
oOoOo
Brain Vs Heart
It's been two months and now I wonder,
If you're safe or if you're scared.
My mind begins to wander,
Over what it was that we once shared.
...
I'm torn between two variables,
Could it be as simple as you say?
Heart and brain, Bones – heart and brain,
Could it really be that way?
...
Could this battle deep within me.
As ludicrous as it may seem,
Just be as simple as a metaphor?
Despite logic's frantic scream.
...
I feel quite simply – tired,
Tired of deductive reason,
Tired of thinking hourly,
Of internal diatribes and treason.
...
Tired of mulling over,
This thing that remains all you.
Despite our separation,
And that logic seems to skew,
...
Despite the text book reason,
Of chemicals and such.
Despite the rational reasoning,
Behind a lover's touch.
...
Despite the scientific,
Despite the simple fact.
Despite the laws of physics,
That you claim you can retract.
...
Despite the blazing obvious,
That I've held onto with stubborn grip.
I feel that my beliefs on this,
Are slipping bit by bit.
...
It's lonely here without you,
Though I am surrounded, yes it's true.
I miss you more than my stupid pride,
Invades my field of view.
...
I miss you enough to realise,
That despite what I had said,
I'm yours – all yours, in every way...
... I love you...
...there...
– it's said.
...
Booth sighed and placed the laptop beside him, bowing his head into his hands, she loves me! she loves me! she loves me! she loves me! she loves me!
Over and over like a rolling lit sign, the realisation coursed through his thoughts, desperately punctuated with his accelerated heart beat.
she loves me! she loves me! she loves me! she loves me! she loves me! she loves me! she loves me! she loves me! she loves me! she loves me!
What
Have
I
DONE!
The though – like a roadblock stopped the mantra in its tracks and he shook his head angrily.
He remembered his mother saying once as she covered her swollen cheek with makeup, "There's nothing that can't be fixed, Seeley, there is nothing that can't be fixed."
If only she were right.
Opening the next document, he noticed that it was dated two and a half months prior to the last.
oOoOo
If You Love Something Then Set it Free
I was safe before you broke me,
I was wise within my enclosure.
I could rely upon my customs,
Now I'm suffering exposure.
...
You just had to poke and goad,
And prod and make me feel.
You had to pick and push for more!
Why did you have to make this real?
...
You're an infuriating man!
What we were was so much more
Than a gamble played with a roll of dice,
Now tell me – what's the score?
...
Because now I'm stuck in limbo -
In a nightmare un-awoken.
I'm stuck between a dream and truth -
Unfixable and broken.
...
I'm fighting cognitive thought,
For a man whose thoughts are silent.
For a man who professes mystic powers
Of love so passionately violent.
...
Foundations forged through necessity,
Shook right down to the core.
What do you want from me Booth?
How can I give you more?
...
You shook the very soul of me,
With your preaching good and righteous.
But then you spun upon your heel,
Sprouting caveats dispiteous!
...
In the same breath as fifty years,
You were packed and moving on!
You said you knew – well I knew too!
But what can I rely upon?
...
So now we stand at crossroads,
And I wish I knew the way.
Though my thoughts return to words of wisdom
And I think it's fair to say -
...
If you love something then set it free,
So, I request that we defer.
If you return to me – you're meant for me,
If you don't – you never were.
...
Little Morticia
What is it that you saw,
Back when you said you knew?
Did you see that little Morticia?
With her deathly eyes of blue?
...
Did you see the awkward teenager,
Who didn't know her place?
The one who'd hide in the toilet block,
Concealing tear tracked face?
...
Did you see the fostered weirdo,
- The boys heartlessly teased with hate?
Or did you simply see the smoke-screened me?
All proper, neat and straight.
...
Cause if you did see that little girl,
So doubting of her heart,
You'd have told me I was worth it,
How did the centre break apart?
...
His heart sank.
How did he screw things up so badly? For the fact that Booth knew his partner like no other, he had done a mighty fine job of reading her all wrong. It was as if he heard only the part where she had said "no."- ignoring all the other signs that indicated her true feelings and insecurities.
He shook his head at the fact that he was reading Brennan's thoughts – feeling deep regrets over their miscommunications and the oblivious other woman that he had invited into his life.
What kind of a man had he turned into? Guilt gripped his gut as he downed a full glass of liquid courage before clicking onto the third document.
oOoOo
Clarity is Colourful
In a world drenched in black and white,
Shadows start to bleed,
Windows disengage and lift,
The heavens hues are freed.
...
Sunlight slices through the night,
Golden fingers tickle sallow,
Leaves blow colour over grey,
Whilst blossom pervades the shadow.
...
Swift like Peregrine Falcon,
Diving for its kill,
Overwhelming, thick like water,
Permeating to its fill.
...
Unnerving – yes; quite certain,
It's frightening more than all,
Yet I trust you have my allegorical back,
You'd never let me fall.
...
And though I am but blinded,
By love's dazzle and its splendour,
No one else has stirred my soul so deep,
...You're the beginning,
...The middle...
...and the ender.
...
Despite his remorse, and perhaps due to the quick successive consumption of spirits, Booth smiled at the fact that his Bones wrote romantic poetry. The straight, literal, empiricist that was his beautiful partner was romantically inclined.
Booth cursed his shallow thoughts. Whatever he had believed, Temperance Brennan had loved his sorry excuse for a man. That beautiful woman had determined to give him a chance.
He decided to get through them quickly; like ripping a band aid off.
oOoOo
I Dreamt of You Last Night
I dreamt of you last night,
Well, to be honest I dreamt of us.
Although an indulgent fantasy,
I think I could adjust.
...
It haunted me through consciousness,
Your passionate declarations,
The way my name rolled off your tongue,
That line's obliteration.
...
It terrifies me to think,
That we may not get the chance,
That our lives may be interrupted,
Removing prospect of romance.
...
I'm getting to the point, though,
Where I can see your fifty years,
I'm getting to that hopeful peak,
Where I can see past deep set fears.
...
It's as if I'm holding my breath,
Till I see you're safe and well.
Right now we need our focus,
I'm sure you're going through metaphorical hell.
...
So my silence, whilst may seem offensive,
Is merely for protection,
Silently thoughts are festering,
All this love, fear and apprehension.
...
I'm sorting out my thoughts for you,
So I can give you what you need.
I'm sure that by the time we meet,
By then we could proceed.
...
I know you said you'd move on,
But if what you said that night was true,
Then you'd be dreaming at night of me,
Just as I dream of you.
...
Booth swiped at the tears that had made their way down his face. Yes, he had dreamt of her... every night... every day her face filled his thoughts. Every moment of discomfort, every moment of pain, every moment of hurt and, the worst – every moment of guilty, sinful pleasure – he dreamt of her.
How could he convince her of that now?
His entire belief system was now compromised. Everything that he claimed to believe and represent was tarred beyond repair.
He preached his faith God yet he lost his faith in her.
To him, it was unforgivable and nothing else mattered.
Ignoring the fact that he would have a hangover in the morning – relieved that it would be a Saturday; he pressed on.
oOoOo
As Serious As a Heart Attack
As serious as a heart attack,
I agree I feel it strong!
Cold cardiac constriction.
My God! This is so wrong!
...
Of course - what did I expect?
I'm a cold and heartless person!
Worthy of nothing near as much,
As you – of that I'm certain!
...
Thank goodness for my childhood,
For conditioning me to cope,
With taunting empty promises,
With offers full of hope.
...
But, Booth, I feel so empty,
So replaceable and worthless,
She's clearly more attractive,
Most certainly not as tactless.
...
I wanted this, I wanted this!
You said that you'd move on,
Of course you had – quite easily,
To a symmetrical, structurally flawless blonde!
...
I guess there's no competing,
So, I gracefully bow out.
But dare she hurt you, I swear alive,
I'll skin her without a doubt!
...
"Oh Bones."
Booth groaned, the guilt physically making him sick to his stomach.
It was as if he was coming off drugs.
He had been desensitised for so long that regaining his ability to feel was debilitating. He could not believe that Bones was feeling that way. It floored him that he was so numbed that he didn't realise the hurt she was feeling was exactly what he had gone through.
He felt completely floored.
oOoOo
The Blonde, The Thief, The Slayer
There once was a "hot" blonde reporter,
Who was a thief – I know – I caught her!
She made out with my man!
Made off with my Bans!
And metaphorically crushed my aorta!
...
Booth all but spat out his scotch and choked over a laugh.
He loved this woman – no question.
He knew she had many levels but, reading through her thoughts simply solidified what he had to do in the morning. Regardless of whether they had missed their moment, he still owed it to Brennan to be honest.
His heart belonged to Bones without caveat, without deception, without lies.
He had never truly been honest with her and he needed to resolve that.
Bringing the glass up to his lips, Booth smiled as he eyed the Ray Bans that were sitting lonely on his coffee table. For the last two weeks he had been aware of their being there but couldn't bring himself to touch them. They held a thick aura of presence - it seemed they were the only possession of Hannah's that she had left behind. Realising now why Hannah had left them, they became less like an elephant in the room and more like a simple comfort.
He read on, still smiling from the last poem...
oOoOo
Little Foetus
Little foetus, well hello there!
Oh, this really is absurd!
Your mother wanted me to talk to you,
Though aware it'll go unheard.
...
You see, I tried to explain to her,
That despite the fine intention,
If you were to even hear my voice,
You'd surely lack comprehension!
...
But, your mother, see, she's a dreamy soul,
An artist – there's none as fine.
Colloquially – a breath of fresh air,
No greater friend I'd find.
...
Genetically you're set to be,
Aesthetically quite proud,
And with what your Mummy's said to me,
Bout your Daddy – well endowed.
...
Yes, physically, I'm sure you'll be,
An attractive little creature!
Though, more prominently, I can foresee,
Your foremost endearing feature:
...
Will be collectively, the qualities,
The solid, moral grounding.
Your heritage is fully fledged,
Your parents – quite astounding.
...
Your Mother – like a sister to me,
she's mighty awe-inspiring,
A wealth of wisdom, loving too,
Her affections never tiring.
...
Your Father well, he's very smart,
But he's also quite astute.
He loves your Mum with all his heart,
The way he looks at her is cute.
...
Yes, statistically, you're set to be,
Successful in your debut.
Despite the "pees" and "poohs" and baby "spew's"
I find I simply can't wait to meet you!
...
Booth smiled, once again wondering why he was also crying. Perhaps it was that he could see her; gorgeously doubtful in his mind talking to Angela's baby. Perhaps it was the fact that she was meant to have his baby. Perhaps it was because he so desperately wanted to share that with her – share the procreation of life with her.
He ran a hand over his face.
The night's revelations were simply exhausting. Overwhelmed with love, regret, remorse, guilt and outright affection, Booth was all but spent.
oOoOo
Iceberg
Can I interest you in fact?
Though I am sure you're well aware,
Of all the mass of an iceberg,
Only a fraction's exposed to air.
...
The rest is simply tucked away,
Hidden safe from view.
That's the best analogy,
For my thoughts surrounding you.
...
It's as if we've been conversing,
In the privacy of my mind.
Though I wonder if you'd hear me out,
Or remain hurtfully disinclined.
...
I wonder if you'd humour me,
Or simply roll your eyes.
I'm not that socially inapt, Booth,
That I'd not recognise despise.
...
I wonder if I should hold out hope,
For the partner I fell in love with.
Or are you permanently transformed,
To this... associate I work with.
...
I love you, Booth, I do,
But with my lack of understanding,
I don't know if I should heal now,
It's all so disenchanting.
...
I hate you now that I love you!
An ironic oxymoron.
Do I nip it in the bud now?
Do I consider myself forewarned?
...
Truth? I don't think that I could.
I don't think that I should bother.
Now that I've tasted what it's like,
You've ruined me for all others.
...
So I think I'll sit here – patient,
I'll wait and try not to bitter,
Cause, Booth, if nothing else – I'm loyal...
...I'm yours now...
... and I'm not a quitter!
...
Booth remembered the "associate" introduction. He felt so uncomfortable saying it. He was, surprisingly relieved that she had noticed too. Re-reading the last verse granted him a flicker of hope.
One document left, he held his breath, realising that it was dated just a week ago.
oOoOo
Prepare Me
Do you know how much you're worth, Booth?
I don't believe you really do.
Because you continue to self sabotage,
The relationships you pursue.
...
I know that may sound callous,
- Hypocritical in the least.
But even if it's only to myself,
My frustrations must be released.
...
It's not out of criticism,
That it's said – no, not at all.
It simply breaks my heart, Booth,
That you feel so beat and small.
...
You're such a loving man,
Brave, loyal and valiant.
You're a hero - true to the word,
Chivalrous and gallant.
...
You possess qualities far superior,
I have met none a man so fine.
Yet when your relationship rules aren't followed,
To your whim, then you resign.
...
You see, as much as this is to reassure you,
Of your value as a mate.
It also serves to help me heal,
From OUR pre-concluded fate.
...
You really sprung it on me Booth,
After years of your self-drawn line,
And as much as I knew I wanted you,
What I needed more was time.
...
For as much as I was at fault,
For doubting that I was "the one."
You backed out mighty quickly, Booth,
With the threat of moving on.
...
And moving on you did,
Which is great – she was such a find.
But, does it truly matter,
That she's not the marrying kind?
...
If what you said is true –
You were in love, isn't that the crux?
Is it really worth bowing out cause
She won't agree to a white dress and tux?
...
You have this sweet fixation,
On the perfect little life.
If only you can get yourself,
The perfect little wife.
...
But you look past what's in front of you,
You conclude you are defective.
But, tell me and be honest now,
What really is your objective?
...
Do you want a piece of paper?
Do you want a cheap surrender?
Or do you want someone who'll share your life,
To love you true and tender?
...
Because, really Booth there's nothing defective,
'Bout a man who cannot wed,
Though may just have his soul mate,
To spend his life with instead.
...
So, If you can ease up on your own agenda,
If you can think outside the square,
If you can take a moment to yourself,
Take some time now to repair.
...
When you're done, I'll be right here, Booth.
I'm nowhere if not with you.
If you'll settle for the non commitment,
Of love – simple, strong and true...
...
If you'll settle for day by day,
With reassurance of my devotion,
If you'll be content with compromise.
With lover's strong emotion.
...
If you'll have me and my imperfections,
If you swear that it's enough.
Then maybe one day – we could walk down the aisle,
But prepare me – not off the cuff.
Booth slammed the lid of his laptop shut.
It was as if she was talking to him directly. He looked self-consciously around the room – effectively spooked by how pointedly touched he felt.
Did Temperance Brennan really admit to still loving him? Since when did she believe in soul mates, devotion and emotion?
He cursed his insobriety. Booth really, really, really wanted to talk to her but he knew that to add drunk dialling to his long list of misdeeds would amount to the final nail in his coffin.
Besieged with emotion and inebriation, he placed the computer onto the floor and curled up onto the couch. Despite his exhaustion, sleep was a long time coming.
The last verse of the last poem repeated in his mind. It gave him hope yet, his self condemning thoughts kept snuffing it out.
The last deliberation that gripped for authority within his tired mind was that he loved this woman and that she loved him.
That's all that mattered.
oOoOo
Later that evening...
Booth sat down hesitantly beside his partner. The moon reflected crisply across the water of the reflecting pool casting a soft illumination over them.
He affectionately bumped his shoulder to hers, "Hey Bones, I thought I'd find you here."
"Hmmm. How are you, Booth?" She spoke over the water, avoiding his stare.
He smiled, "Never been better."
"Oh." She looked down to her hands, "Did you and Hannah resume your sexual relationship?"
He gave a double take, "Wha! No, no Bones, what made you think..."
"Never-mind, Booth, I am happy that you are in a good frame of mind after all that you have had to go through this last fortnight. Did you come here for an update on the case? I left my phone in the car."
Booth sighed, she seemed disheartened somehow and since when did the Dr Temperance Brennan part with her phone? Safety Bones!
He had a lot of ground to cover before they got to what they were and where they wanted to be. Booth positioned his body to face her, "Temperance, no, I don't want an update on the case. I just want to... I don't know... sit here... with you."
She looked up at him briefly with a small, shy smile, "Ok."
They sat there for a while – each gaining comfort from the other's presence, her looking over the water and him, looking at her.
"Booth... why are you staring at me?"
Brennan met his adoring gaze and her cheeks pinked under his scrutiny.
"I want to be honest with you, Bones. I haven't been honest with you for quite some time and, to be honest..." he smiled nervously at his word stumbling, "I feel like I have... I don't know... I've kinda lost focus on what really matters and we have suffered for it and, for what it's worth, I'm sorry."
"It is worth... a great deal." Her voice was soft.
"What is?"
"Your apology. I'm sorry too Booth. As you are aware, I am not particularly adept at the social requirements of most relationships and I am sorry that I haven't helped you more throughout your breakup with Hannah. I find that I am a little confused as to what my role is in your life now and it is somewhat... wearisome... but, I will deal with it and, I am sure you will notify me if I am not living up to my responsibilities as your partner."
Booth shook his head and reached for her hand, "Bones, about that; I was kinda not thinking straight when I said that. Whether I have said it or not – you have always been my friend – first and foremost. I am sorry that I haven't really lived up to my end of the bargain."
"You needn't to apologise, Booth. You had every right to move on and it is not customary nor socially acceptable for men to maintain strong bonds with women who are not their sexual partner."
She took her hand back and resumed her gaze over the water. "Despite my intentions, I brought it upon myself and, after all is said and done, Booth, I really just want you to be happy..." in the dim light of the moon, he saw a tear make its way down her face, "...that's honestly all I want."
With a finger under her chin, Booth gently turned he face towards him and stemmed the flow of her tears with his thumb.
"Then let me love you Temperance."
She stared wide eyed until she whispered with exasperation, unable to halt the flow of tears, "You really do confuse me, Booth. In what context are you referring to? What do you want me to be?"
"I want..." he looked up to the heavens in silent entreaty, "God, Bones! I want you to be patient with me and not be scared. I want to... I want to be able to explain to you how I feel. How I love you... how I have always love you... how I have lied to myself for the last year –trying to get over you when... when I can't Bones.
"I am sorry for putting you through this, through Hannah. I am sorry if I made you doubt everything that I spent 5 years trying to make you believe. I just... I love you Temperance. If this last year has taught me anything, it's that I would much rather wait forever for you than attempt moving on by ignoring that.
"I want you to be whatever you want to be. I want whatever you will allow us to have with each other but I don't want you to change and I don't want to feel pressured. Ok?"
Sniffling through her tears, Brennan immediately wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed him into a desperate hug. He wasn't sure whether she was laughing or crying when her shoulders began to bob but when she pulled back slightly and saw her breathtakingly radiant smile, he released a breath of relief.
"I want that Booth. I want it all with you."
He gripped the side of her face with tender excitement, and plucked passion filled kisses from her lips, relishing in the reality of the situation.
"I am kissing you..." he pulled her bottom lip into his mouth and released it with a pop, "...and you... you are kissing me back..." Brennan chuckled over his lips as she devoured them, "...and I'm not dreaming..." tasting her tongue, "...when did I get so lucky, Bones?"
She pulled back and smiled, "I don't believe in the notion of luck, Booth, but I do believe in love. I believe in us."
"Promise me you'll remember that when we get round to talking, huh?"
She eyed him suspiciously, "Why Booth?"
He smiled sheepishly as he dove in for another taste of her mouth, "Never-mind, as you were!"
His confession could wait; he had some buttering up to do.
oOoOo
As the "more-than-partners" partners indulged in their new favourite thing they continued oblivious to the excited shouting of a nearby crazy, seemingly intoxicated wader.
Trudging eagerly out of the water he held a flash-light in one hand and a small black ring-box in the other, "Check this out Marleene! It's gotta be at least two karats! Platinum gold! Oh, some pore bugger with be suffering the loss of this one!"
Thank you for reading!
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