A/N: Hey there! Well, I guess this would be my first published fic. And, of course, I'm jumping on the post-finale writing train. This is pretty much the same as every single other post-finale story, but enjoy anyway. I tried posting this once, but it was in italics...weird. I hope I fixed that...
I'll kiss you awake, and we'll have time
To know our neighbors all by name
And every star at night.
We'll weave our days together like waves
And particles of light.
"Simple Life"-The Weepies
They have never done anything the normal way, the easy way, so when she gets pregnant after the first time they make love, it should really not have come as such a surprise.
But somehow neither of them seems to be able to wrap their minds around it.
A baby. Their baby. Their baby. Their baby.
No matter how he says them, the words feel strange, so foreign to his tongue. But it also feels right. He repeats those words, over and over again to his mirror image that night, grinning wildly in spite of himself. He splashes cold water on his face, to make sure this isn't some sort of crazy coma dream. He feels the water like ice on his face, and when he enters his bedroom minutes later he feels her tender lips on his. This is no dream.
When he hears her speak those wonderful words ("I'm...I'm pregnant. You're the father."), something settles into place inside him and he knows that this is the way it's supposed to be. He believes, for maybe the first time in his life that God, or Fate, or the Universe, really does have a plan for him, a good plan. This is it. This is meant to be. He and Bones are having a baby. They will be inextricably linked. Forever.
He forgot how it was to be so attached to something that wasn't even real yet, something that, at the moment, is just a tiny bundle of cells. He loves that bundle of cells like he hasn't loved anything before. He stays up, thinking, long after she has drifted off to sleep in his arms. He watches her still-flat stomach rise and fall, and thanks God for the tiny life inside her, the little piece of him and the little piece of her, growing even now. He can see the rest of his life play out before him, as if on a screen at a movie theater; he can see Parker's face when they tell him he is going to be a big brother, can see them all together, one happy family; him, Bones, Parker, and the little auburn-haired, blue-eyed girl (for he already knows they will have a daughter), who will look just like Bones but have his smile, and who will dance around the house and laugh and sing and call him "Daddy." He places his hand gently over her stomach, and he knows, he knows, with that same gut that tells him who the murderer is and when someone's lying, and what is right and what is wrong, he knows, with the kind of clarity he hasn't had since his brain tumor, that he and Bones will spend the rest of their lives together. He remembers an early morning, not so very long ago, on a boat dock;
"Give it time, Bones, okay? Give it time. Everything happens eventually."
"Everything?"
"All the good stuff. All that stuff you think never happens? It happens. Just gotta be ready for it."
Their eventually, seven years in the making, has finally arrived.