A Whole New Experience

by hellogoodbye57

Follows Buried Alive. Brennan and Booth investigate a case which leads to something neither expected. Also, Brennan and Booth's relationship continues to develop.

Disclaimers: I own nothing

Special Agent Seeley Booth burst into his partner, Dr. Temperance Brennan's, office waving a manila folder. "We have a case, Bones,' he announced.

"You didn't have to tell me that, Booth," Brennan said, looking up from her computer. "Why else would you be here."

"I could be here to take my girlfriend out to lunch."

"Shh, Booth, not so loud," Brennan admonished, glancing around.

"You still haven't told them yet?" Booth asked. They had agreed two weeks before that Brennan should be the one to tell the other members of the lab since she was closer to them.

"Have you told Cullen?"

"No," Booth admitted, grimacing. Telling his boss about his and Brennan's evolving relationship could only lead to trouble.

"Exactly. I'll tell them when I'm ready. Honestly, I don't think I can handle Angela's reaction right now." Although well-meaning, Angela was incurably nosy, and she had been attempting to force Booth and Brennan together since the two first met. At 5'4", Angela was shorter than Brennan, but she made up for her lack of height with her abundance of personality. Unlike other members of the lab, she was not a scientist; she was an artist who specialized in facial reconstruction of the multitude of remains which passed through the Jeffersonian. Her impressive figure, dark eyes, and sleek, dark hair made her quite attractive; unlike Brennan, she flaunted this beauty, wearing form-fitting clothes and plenty of makeup. Although complete opposites, Angela and Brennan were somehow best friends.

"Whatever you think is best," Booth conceded.

"Didn't you say something about a case?"

"Right. They found a decomposing corpse in the woods a few miles from here, so they called me."

"Let me get my stuff." Brennan walked into the lab to retrieve her field kit and found two other lab members, Zack Hodgins and Zach Addy, arguing about a set of remains. Hodgins was the lab's entomologist, referred to affectionately as "the bug and dirt guy." He was also the resident conspiracy theorist; with thick, curly brown hair, wire-rimmed glasses, and probing blue eyes, he certainly looked the part. Oddly enough, he and Angela were dating, a fact which amazed most people who knew them.

Zach was thin and wiry with an innocent countenance and long brown hair that curled slightly at the ends. At first glance, he looked no older than twelve, but he ruined this illusion as soon as he spoke. After graduating from college at the tender age of seventeen, he had entered graduate school to earn his PhD in anthropology and was currently training under Dr. Brennan. "Dr. Brennan, can you come look at something?" he called, catching sight of his mentor.

"What is it, Zach?" she asked, swiping her access card as she joined them on the center platform which housed the examination tables and various instruments.

"Dr. Hodgins and I can't agree on a date for these remains. I say these buttons look to be early twentieth century, but he says they're closer to early nineteenth."

"They're made of brass," Brennan remarked, examining the small circles. "It's hard to make out the design unfortunately." She squinted, looking closer, but a loud voice interrupted her thoughts before she could form an opinion.

"Bones!" Booth called. "Come on! We've got a case, remember?"

"Just a minute, Booth. I'm trying to decide-"

"We're leaving now, Bones," he insisted, joining her on the platform and grabbing her arm. "Those remains have waited a hundred years already; a few more won't make much of a difference."

"I don't see why I ever gave you an access card," Brennan grumbled as he drug her away from her precious remains.

"Probably because you were tired of hearing the alarm go off." Booth released her arm and instead brought his arm up to encircle her waist, an action that had recently replaced the hand on her back. Although it indicated an increased degree of intimacy, it felt oddly comforting, and Brennan found that she enjoyed the warmth of his arm on her back. Surprisingly, Angela had not yet commented on this new habit, causing Brennan to wonder if the artist had noticed.

They spent the car ride arguing over Booth's abuse of his Jeffersonian access pass, a debate which only ended when another agent walked over to give the two the details of the case. "A couple college kids found the remains about two hours ago when they were stumbling through the woods to find some place private. Needless to say, it killed the mood."

"What mood?" Brennan questioned, confused.

"Don't worry about it, Bones," Booth told her. As he said this, the agent turned his full attention to Brennan, flashing her a dazzlingly white smile. His brown hair hung crookedly over his forehead in an oddly attractive manner, and his green eyes sparkled handsomely.

"I don't believe we've met. I'm Special Agent Tim Sullivan, but you can just call me Sully. Most people do."

"Dr. Temperance Brennan." Brennan extended her hand, and he gripped it tightly, giving two firm shakes before releasing it.

"How do you get Bones from that?" Sully wondered.

"You don't. Booth just calls me that because he receives some sort of perverse pleasure from it. I hate that name."

"You do not," Booth argued.

"I think I'd know better than you."

"I know you love it. You're just too stubborn to admit that."

"What would you prefer to be called?" Sully inquired politely.

"Dr. Brennan's fine," Brennan told him. "Where are the remains."

"Just through the trees over there," Sully told her, pointing.

"Thank you. Coming, Booth?"

"I'm right behind you, Bones." She led the way through the tangled underbrush, stumbling every now and then on a loose vine. Booth reached out a hand to steady her after the first stumble, but she shook him off. He kept his hands to himself afterwards, knowing she did not approve of his "alpha male personality" (her words, not his). Instead, he followed at a discreet distance, close enough that he could easily reach her if she did fall but far enough away that she would not accuse him of hovering. When she reached the body, she knelt beside it, staring at it as calmly as she would regard her dinner.

"Victim's female," she announced, glancing at the bell-shaped curve of the hips. "I'd say early to mid-thirties. Caucasian from the look of her facial features."

"Cause of death?"

"I'm getting there. Hyoid bone's intact, so we can rule out strangulation. No knife marks or any chipping of the visible bones from a bullet," Brennan declared.

"So, what does that mean for cause of death?"

"It means that the evidence is inconclusive." Brennan leaned closer, staring intently at the bones. "There's something metallic here," she finally said, reaching down. When she brought her hand back up, she was holding a small, rounded object which glinted in the sunlight. "It's a bullet," she answered.

"I guess that explains cause of death."

"Not necessarily. It went in through the back, so it could have missed all vital organs."

"It still would've caused her to bleed to death."

"But that would take awhile. The killer might have decided to finish her quickly and killed her some other way."

"Fine. So cause of death is unknown. Anything else?"

"The hips are unusually wide, and the pubic bone seems to have stretched."

"What does that mean?"

"She was pregnant not long before she died."

"Where's the baby then?" Booth glanced around as if hoping to find a screaming infant. Unfortunately, none appeared, and he glanced back at the body with a rising feel of nausea.

Seeing his expression, Brennan quickly reassured him. "The baby's not here. The only bones are hers."

"So I guess this has turned into a missing person's case." Booth shook his head and called Sully over. "Do you have agents checking the surrounding area?" Booth questioned.

"There's some agents searching, but it's mostly local guys."

"Tell them to keep their eyes open for another body."

"Another body?"

"A smaller one." Brennan could tell from the firm set of Booth's jaw and his blazing eyes that the case was affecting him more than he would admit. She knew he hated any cases involving children; she, too, wished she had not seen the signs of childbirth.

"Okay. I'll do that." Brennan watched as Sully left, curious of his obedience. She guessed Sully was at least four or five years Booth's senior, and her guesses were rarely far off. If he was older than Booth, however, it seemed unlikely that he would be subservient to the younger agent. Of course, Brennan was not sure of their relative ranks; the politics of the Bureau often confused her. The FBI had an intricate hierarchy that she had decided would make an interesting anthropological study.

"Whatcha thinking about, Bones?" Booth questioned, kneeling beside her as he studied her carefully.

"I was just wondering why Agent Sullivan obeyed you so readily. In most civilizations, including ours, age is a clear indicator of position, and younger individuals will defer to older ones. But Agent Sullivan is clearly older than you, and yet he seems to regard you as a superior."

"Well, I guess I have trained him well."

"Trained? It's virtually impossible to train a human since we. . ." She broke off, noticing the expression on his face. "Oh. You were kidding, weren't you?"

"I was," he affirmed with a smile. "You're getting better at reading people, Bones. We might make an interviewer out of you yet."

"I'm perfectly capable of interviewing suspects."

"Violence isn't always the best tool for questioning."

"It's worked so far."

"Not every time. You're eventually going to get yourself in trouble."

"I'll be fine." Brennan rose to her feet, and Booth emulated her example, happy to be slightly farther from the noxious scent of the decomposing corpse. His job required him to deal with dead bodies every day, but he still hated them. He hated their smell, their appearance, and most of all, their reminder of his own mortality. Each new corpse seemed to be taunting him, laughing as they explained that he could be the one lying there. He was destined to return to the earth, moving from dust to dust as the Bible taught. Still, he could not fathom being nothing but a decaying piece of flesh and a distant memory in the minds of some people who would soon join him through the ruthless hands of death. His Catholic heritage taught him that he was more than simply flesh, and he clung tenaciously to this faith. He wanted to believe he possessed a soul which existed for all eternity despite the ephemeral nature of his flesh. He had to believe this, in fact, if he wanted to face the horrors he saw each and every day and still retain his sanity.

"If you say so, Bones. Come on, we need to go talk to the kids who found the body." He led the way through the sea of cops and FBI agents to two teenagers who were huddled together next to one of the police cars. They appeared to be both morbidly curious about the scene in front of them and revolted by it. The boy stood with his arm around the girl's shoulders, pulling her close. This action reminded Brennan forcibly of Booth and his alpha male tendencies. "Rick and Lily, right?" Booth asked as they approached the two.

"Yeah. Who are you?" Rich questioned.

"Special Agent Seeley Booth. This is my partner, Dr. Temperance Brennan."

"Can we go home now?" Lily inquired.

"If you'll answer a few more questions for me, you'll be free to go," Booth promised. "First of all, what were you doing in the woods?"

"We were just. . . fooling around," Rick explained evasively.

"And how did you find the body?"

"I tripped over it," Lily said quietly with a slight waver in her voice.

"Did you touch it at all after that?"

"No way, man!' Rick said quickly. "When Lily tripped, I shone the flashlight at her feet to see what was there. As soon as we saw the body, we got out of there as fast as we could and called you guys."

"Do you remember anything else that might be helpful?"

"No, sorry, man," Rick apologized.

"Okay, you two are free to go," Booth told them. "Just give me a number where I can reach you if I have any more questions." After a few seconds of fumbling through his pockets, Rick found a pen and used it to scribble a number on the pad Booth provided.

"We need to get the remains shipped back to the Jeffersonian," Brennan said as they walked back to the body.

"Already being done, Bones. We'll just finish up here and grab a quick lunch. By the time we get back to the Jeffersonian, your remains should be there."

They stopped at Wong Foo's for lunch; as usual, they chose a corner booth, preferring the relative privacy. When they sat, Booth's hand automatically reached across and clasped Brennan's hand beneath the table. She did not pull away; in fact, she actually turned her palm so she could better entwine her fingers with his. Over the past two weeks, she had begun to grow comfortable with his subtle displays of affection; surprisingly, she had even come to enjoy them. It was nice to know that someone cared for her. After spending much of her life alone, she liked knowing someone was there for her.

"I expected you two earlier," the owner, Sid, remarked as he placed a couple drinks on their table.

"We had a case," Booth explained.

"Don't bring it in here," Sid warned.

"We know," Booth said, shifting his hand slightly, so that he could rub his thumb over the back of Brennan's. Although he possessed acute perspective skills, Sid had not yet noticed their fledgling relationship, or, if he had, he had not commented on it. "Are you embarrassed of us?" Booth questioned as Sid left.

"Why would I be?" Brennan asked.

"You won't tell your friends."

"You won't tell your boss."

"That's different. I won't tell him because I don't want him to split us up. But I'd be willing to tell the whole world right now I'm so happy."

"You can't tell the whole world. If it takes you-"

"That's not what I meant, Bones," Booth said in exasperation. "I'm just pointing out that I'm definitely not embarrassed."

"Neither am I."

"Then tell the other squints."

"Fine. But give me a week to do it."

"I'm feeling generous, so I'll give you two." He paused to thank Sid who brought their food. After glancing at the plate in front of him, he looked back at Sid with a puzzled expression. "This isn't what I wanted," he said.

"I know," Sid assured him. "But since you and Dr. Brennan are always eating off each other's plate anyway, I decided to switch your meals." He left as Booth reached across the table with a fork to take a piece of beef from Brennan's plate.

"We could always switch," Brennan suggested.

"It's more fun this way," Booth told her, chewing.

"I don't understand how reaching across the table for your food can be considered fun."

"You don't think anything's fun, Bones."

"Of course I do."

"Really? When was the last time you had fun?"

"I was in Peru and-"

"Work doesn't count."

"Why not? I enjoy my work."

"That's great, but you have to have a life outside of work."

"Why? If it makes me happy, shouldn't I spend as much time at work as I can?"

"You still need something in your life other than work. Trust me, you will never be truly happy if all you do is work."

"There's no such thing as true happiness."

"Of course there is. I'll show you. Don't plan anything for this Saturday."

"What if I already had plans?"

"Cancel them."

"Why? I don't even know what we're doing."

"I'm going to show you how to have fun. Actually, Parker and I will both show you. It's my weekend with him." Booth's lips curved upward in a smile as he spoke of his four-year-old son who he unfortunately only saw on the weekends. Most of the time, Parker lived with his mother, Rebecca, who Booth had dated but never married since she rejected his proposal.

"I don't know. I'm not good with kids."

"Are you kidding? Parker loves you."

"I doubt that."

"Trust me, he does. You'll see."

They drove straight back to the lab after finishing, and Brennan found Zach already examining the body which lay on the cold metal table. "It's about time. The body got here almost half an hour ago. Where were you guys?" Angela questioned with a gleam in her eyes.

"We stopped at Wong Foo's for lunch," Brennan explained, swiping her card to gain access to the platform.

"Oh." Angela seemed slightly disappointed but recovered quickly. "I need you and Zach to finish quickly so I can start on the facial reconstruction."

"Don't hurry me," Zach complained. "I don't do well under pressure, and I can't make a mistake."

"Sorry, Zacharoni," Angela apologized.

"And don't call me that."

"I'm going to see how Hodgins is doing," Angela announced, descending from the platform.

"What have you found so far, Zach?" Brennan asked as she pulled on latex gloves and joined him at the examination table.

"The bullet nicked the twentieth vertebra here," Zack declared, pointing. "From the angle and position, it likely traveled straight through the body without hitting any vital organs. It ricocheted off the hip bone and began traveling back through the body. Likely, it would have hit the stomach or another organ of the digestive track on the return trip."

"Death would still be slow," Brennan remarked.

"And painful," Zach added.

"Are those any other signs of a different cause of death?" Brennan wondered.

"I haven't seen any so far, but I have not yet finished my examination." Zach bent over the body again, remarking, " There's a slight widening of the hips. She likely-"

"Gave birth before her death. We know, Zach. That's why I want to figure out who she is as quickly as possible," Booth said.

"I already said I don't do well under pressure," Zach said.

"Booth, just let us do our jobs," Brennan told him.

"Fine. I'm going to talk to Angela. She's the most normal of you squints." As Booth left, Brennan glanced at the skull.

"Teeth are intact. We might be able to get a match from dental records," he suggested.

"The arches in her foot have collapsed, suggestion repeated use," Zach announced. "Possibly a runner."

"She has an old break in her arm. Probably from her childhood because it's completely healed."

They finished their examination in another half an hour without finding anything significant. After helping him to clean the bones, Brennan left Zack to place tissue markers on the skull. She found Angela at the Angelator (the affectionate title of the machine with which Angela did most of her work). "Do you have a skull for me, Sweetie?" Angela asked.

"Not yet. Zach's finishing it now. Where's Booth?"

"I haven't seen him since I left you two and Zach staring at the bones. He's not with you?"

"No. I guess he went back to the Hoover Building."

"You sound disappointed," Angela observed with a hint of a smile.

"I just wanted to tell him what Zach and I found," Brennan covered quickly, knowing even as she made this claim that it was false. In truth, she simply missed Booth. She had come to rely on him as she had never before relied on anyone else, a fact which terrified her. She was a strong woman by nature; trusting someone else to take care of her was not easy. But Booth had bullied his way into her comfortable life, and she could no longer imagine life without him.

"I'm sure he'll be back soon, Sweetie," Angela assured her.

"Of course. I need to talk to Hodgins about time of death anyway." Brennan left the room and walked quickly across the spotless linoleum to the next office where Hodgins sat in front of a microscope. His eyes were pressed to the lenses, and he was wearing headphones, so Brennan had to walk around and shake his shoulder before he responded. He looked up at her, extracting the ear bud from one ear.

"Where's Booth?" he asked, glancing over Brennan's shoulder as if expecting the agent to suddenly appear behind her.

"He went back to the Hoover Building. Did you find a time of death yet?"

"From the insect activity, I would place her death four to five months ago," he answered.

"Anything else?"

"Not yet. I'm working on analyzing the soil now. Come back in an hour, and I might have something more substantial."

With nothing left to do, Brennan walked back to her office, hoping to complete some paperwork for a couple bodies she had recently finished examining. As an anthropologist, all of her work was not with the FBI. Since she was a respected person in her field, colleagues often brought her various skeletons and artifacts to examine. Additionally, she had been to numerous digs around the world where she had uncovered a variety of remains from countless cultures. Anthropology was not merely her job; it was her life. Until Booth had come along, it was the one constant, the one thing that never failed to bring her enjoyment. But Booth had shown her that anthropology was not everything. Actually, Booth had changed countless things about her life though she would never admit this fact to him.

Brennan suddenly froze mid-step. She had glanced at the window to her office and had seen a large, shadowy figure prowling in front of it. At first, Brennan thought she had imagined the shadow, but it appeared again, remaining in front of the window for a few more moments before sinking back into the shadow. Brennan could tell it was male from the broad shoulders and wide chest, but it was too short for Booth. Rationally, she knew no unauthorized person could have gained access to her office, but this thought did not stop her from grabbing a nearby scalpel, wielding it like a knife as she cautiously approached the door. Although she had training in three different martial arts, the feel of the cool metal in her hands comforted her. With her heart pounding so loudly she was sure the intruder heard it, she slowly pushed open the door, brandishing the scalpel as she stepped into the room.

"Dr. Brennan, I just-" a familiar voice began, stopping when its owner spotted the scalpel.

"Agent Sullivan. What are you doing here?" Brennan questioned, feeling slightly foolish as she placed the scalpel on her desk.

"I just came to drop off some more evidence," Sully said, still eyeing the scalpel suspiciously as if afraid it might suddenly animate itself and slice him open.

"Oh, well thank you." Brennan accepted the three bags and the manila folder he held out to her. Immediately, she began to examine the contents of the bags. When she looked up after a few seconds, she saw Sully still standing in front of her desk, shifting from one foot to another nervously. "Did you want something else?"

"No,' he said, continuing after a brief pause. "Well, yes, actually. I was just wondering if you wanted to have dinner with me on Friday."

"I actually have plans Friday," Brennan informed him.

"Oh. What about Saturday?"

"I have plans then, too," Brennan remarked, wondering when Booth had become such a large part of her life that she had plans with him nearly every day.

"Do you have a date or something?"

"I do," Brennan confirmed, finding it odd that it was easier to discuss her personal business with a perfect stranger than with her close friends.

"Oh. Well, I guess I'll see you later."

"Uh-huh." Brennan was studying the contents of one of the bags carefully; she did not even look up as Sully left her office.

When Booth arrived four hours later, Brennan was working on her latest novel. Hearing the door open, she glanced up to see Booth casually leaning against the frame, watching her carefully. "Am I in this one, too?" he inquired, moving from the doorway and pulling it shut behind him.

"How many times must I tell you? You're not in any of them."

"Really? Smart, sexy special agent who's completely in love with the anthropologist he works with? That sounds quite a lot like me," Booth said, belatedly realizing the confession he had inadvertently made.

"What?" Brennan looked up at him sharply.

Booth swallowed hard, cursing himself. The current situation was certainly not the way he imagined expressing his feelings for Brennan. He had always thought that he would declare his affection in a more romantic setting, possibly over a candlelit dinner or maybe during a pleasant walk beneath the stars. But now that he had told her, he could not deny his feelings. "Well, this isn't exactly how I pictured doing this," Booth began.

"Doing what?" Brennan questioned, ever impatient.

"Telling you I love you," Booth answered honestly. He saw Brennan's eyes go wide as she opened her mouth, likely to explain the science behind his feelings, but he continued before she could began talking. "I know that you think love's nothing but a chemical signal or something similar, but I know it's more than that. As much as it scares you, Temperance, your science can't explain everything. I love you, and that love has nothing to do with chemistry and everything to do with the fact that I can't imagine spending a single moment without you. And I have a strong suspicion that you feel the same way."

A silence descended over them as Booth continued to stare at Brennan. Unable to look directly into his eyes, Brennan dropped her gaze, suddenly finding her perfectly polished shoes oddly fascinating. Still, she felt Booth's gaze on her, so she gathered all the courage she could muster and muttered, "You're right."

"About what?" Booth had convinced her to come this far, and he was not going to allow her to back down now.

With great difficulty, Brennan raised her head so that their eyes locked. Booth was perched on the corner of her desk, leaning forward so that his face was inches from her own. Taking a deep breath, Brennan steeled herself to say, "I love you, too, Seeley."

For a moment, they continued to stare at each other, both digesting this new step in their relationship. Admitting her love had been both the hardest and easiest thing Brennan had ever done. Although she had never been good at realizing or expressing her feelings, Brennan had known for awhile that she was in love with Booth; she had tried to conceal this fact beneath their partnership, but it continued to rise to the surface. Even if she had not admitted it at the time, love had driven her to kiss Booth two weeks before; in fact, it had existed long before that, but she had always been able to conceal it until that point. She had not expressed her love for anyone since her parents had left; it was easier not to let people into her life, for building walls around her heart ensured that no one could hurt her.

Suddenly, Brennan felt Booth's lips on her own, and she eagerly responded to the kiss. It seemed strangely different than the other kisses they had shared up to that point; Brennan recognized that it possessed a quality that she could not name. She supposed Booth would call it love, and she was sorely tempted to agree with him. Her science discounted the reality of "being in love," but her body was telling her that her feelings for Booth were different than anything she had felt before. She thought about him constantly, eagerly anticipating the next time they would see one another. Even something as simple as his touch sent shivers up her spine, and his lips felt perfect on her own.

Booth's tongue slipped into her mouth, eliciting a new cascade of feelings in her body. As one, they stood, an action which allowed him to press his body closer to hers. Caught off guard, Brennan stumbled backwards, eventually running into the wall of her office with a thud so loud that she was sure Angela had heard. Still, Booth did not stop; he simply raised one hand to brace them on the wall while his other dropped to her hip. Brennan tangled her own hands in his hair, feeling an inexplicable need to touch him, maintaining as much contact as humanly possible. After another minute or so, his lips moved down to her neck where he began to suck at the sweet-tasting skin, nipping it gently with his teeth. Brennan's hands moved to his shoulders, tracing his prominent shoulder blades and deltoid muscles as she recited the names in her head. His tongue flicked over a sensitive spot, and she let out an involuntary gasp. Satisfied with her response, he increased his attack on that particular spot, moving his hand up from her hip to trace lines across her abdomen. He stepped closer, and Brennan could feel his growing erection poking into her side, a sensation which merely increased her own desire.

Just as suddenly as he had begun to kiss her, he pulled away. Brennan instantly missed the contact and leaned forward to crush their lips together again. However, he simply turned away, saying, "We can't, Temperance. Not here. Not now."

"Of course," Brennan agreed, instantly realizing that they were still in her office. They were lucky no one had walked in before. "We need to be professional at work. That was certainly not professional."

"That's not what I meant," Booth said. "What I was trying to say is that our first time should be special—not something hurried in your office. I want to show you that sex is not always about satisfying biological urges. Sometimes, it's about making love."

"But-" Brennan began before Booth stopped her by placing a finger over her mouth.

"Do me a favor, Bones, and don't bring your science into our relationship. Just stop being rational and trust your heart."

Before Brennan could respond, the door swung open and Angela walked in. "Sweetie, we have a match from Missing Persons. Her name is-" Angela broke off when she noticed the two. Brennan imagined that they looked rather comical; she was standing in the corner with her back against the wall, and Booth was less than a foot in front of her with a finger against her mouth. "Am I interrupting something?" Angela asked with a grin.

"I was just trying to tell Booth that he is not in any of my books," Brennan explained as Booth backed away from her.

"Oh, come on, Sweetie. Hot, astute FBI agent? We all know that's Booth even if you deny it," Angela said.

"Thank you, Angela. See, Bones, she agrees.

"I think I should be the one to say who my characters are based on," Brennan remarked. "Didn't you say you had a name for the vic, Angela?"

"Right. Diane Jacobs, age thirty-one. She went missing four months ago," Angela said, showing them both a picture of a smiling blond woman.

Booth ran a hand through his hair before checking his watch. "It's too late to do anything tonight," he announced. "We'll interview parents and friends tomorrow. Anything else, Angela?"

"Not right now. But check with Jack and Zach."

"We'll do that. Come on, Bones."

"I am not a dog," Brennan complained as she followed him out of her office. "You cannot just call me like that."

"Sorry, Bones, it won't happen again." Seeing both other squints on the central platform, Booth bounded up the couple steps, deactivating the alarm as he walked over to Zach and Hodgins. "You two have anything for me?" he questioned.

"Soil places her somewhere near the Chesapeake shortly before her death," Hodgins told him. "Unfortunately, there's nothing to narrow that down further. The fiber Dr. Brennan gave me is simple cotton; there's nothing special there. The button is a pretty standard one that comes on a variety of blouses, and the glass is colored slightly. It's likely part of a beer bottle which means it's simply part of the usual refuse which collects in a park like the one where she was found. It probably has no connection to the case."

"Zach?"

"The body reveals nothing further. She appears to be in good health for her age; she's likely a runner as Dr. Brennan and I earlier decided. As far as I can tell, the gunshot was the cause of death."

"Good work, Zach. Did you start on the latest body from limbo?"

"Of course, Dr. Brennan. I was waiting on your confirmation of a few of my observations."

"I can look at them now if you want."

"No, you can't Bones."

"Why not, Booth? You said yourself that we can't do anything about the case until tomorrow morning."

"But I'd be willing to bet you haven't eaten dinner yet. Come on, let's go get something to eat. We can discuss the case then."

"Fine. But I'm bringing paperwork."

"Deal."

They decided to go to Booth's apartment instead of eating out. Brennan found that he was a surprisingly good cook. Forty-five minutes later, they sat down to a meal of garlic green beans, pork chops, and baked potatoes. As usual, Booth said a short prayer before beginning to eat; although she did not share his beliefs, Brennan politely bowed her head as he spoke his words of thanks. When he finished, he grabbed his fork and began to shovel food into his mouth. "I heard you attacked Sully with a scalpel today," he remarked between mouthfuls.

"I didn't attack him," Brennan argued.

"He said you were brandishing the scalpel like a weapon when you walked into the room. Honestly, Bones, I think you could do more damage with your bare hands."

"Well, I had no choice since you won't let me have a gun."

"And for a good reason. You probably would have shot Sully if I gave you a gun. You tend to be trigger happy."

"I've only ever shot a murderer."

"You still shot someone."

"So have you."

"I'm an FBI agent. You're a civilian."

"So?"

"So it's my job to shoot the bad guys, not yours. What did Sully want anyway?"

"He gave me some evidence. And he asked me to dinner on Friday."

"I just might shoot him myself. What did you say?"

"I told him I had other plans. Why?"

Booth looked at her for a moment before bursting out laughing. "Wow. You really don't know, do you?"

"Know what?"

"He was asking you out, Bones."

"Out? As in on a date?"

"Yes, on a date."

"Why didn't he say that then? It would have made everything much less confusing."

"He was probably scared. You can be pretty imposing, Bones."

"Why?"

"Because you're smarter than every guy you meet and can kick just about anyone's ass. You're strong; you don't need anyone to look out for you. That's one of the things I love most about you." Now that he had admitted his feelings, Booth was enjoying his newfound ability to tell her he loved her whenever and wherever he wanted.

"So you're saying men want a weak, dumb woman?"

"Some do. I certainly don't." He smiled at her as he took another bite of pork.

"I guess that makes sense anthropologically. The male wants to be the dominant one in a relationship; that role is easier when the woman is less intelligent and submissive." Booth smiled as Brennan continued her explanation. "What?" she finally asked.

"Nothing. I was just thinking that I love you."

"I love you, too," Brennan responded, puzzled.

"Please don't ever become dumb and submissive."

"I don't intend to."

"Good."

Booth insisted on watching a movie that night. Although Brennan argued at first, she eventually gave in after he told her that she could do some paperwork as she watched. Naturally, she brought a good deal more paperwork than he expected. It formed a stack nearly two feet high on the coffee table which appeared to be in danger of collapse. Pulling the top file from the stack, she bent over to complete it, and Booth's hand settled on her lower back, pushing her shirt up slightly as he began to move his fingers in languorous circles over her skin. His touch relaxed her, helping her to forget the stresses of the day. He made her comfortable, something she had never been able to say about any of her previous boyfriends. "Are you even paying attention to the movie, Bones?" he asked as they watched.

"Sure. Due to a series of completely improbably coincidences, that van just flipped over. Somehow, the driver survived though. At the very least, he should have had some internal damage. He could not have just stood up and walked away."

"It's a movie, Bones."

"So? Aren't they supposed to be based in reality?"

"Writers still take creative liberties."

"I still don't understand why you watch these movies."

"The entertainment, Bones."

"Entertainment from what? Things blowing up?"

"Some of it comes from that, yes."

"What else provides entertainment?"

"Not knowing what's going to happen next. Thinking he's dead only to have him narrowly escape. Basically, the suspense."

"But none of it is real. It's scientifically impossible."

"You know what, Bones? Just shut up and watch the movie."

As the credits rolled later that night, Brennan stood and stretched. Booth rose from his seat beside her, giving her a short peck on the lips. Disappointed, Brennan leaned in again, but Booth stopped her by placing a firm hand on her shoulder. "I already told you, I want to wait. But if we go any further, I won't be able to stop myself. So, goodbye, I'll see you tomorrow." With one last, chaste kiss, he led her to the door, and she left.

The next morning, Brennan was at the Jeffersonian by 6:45 as usual. She had had very little sleep the previous night, for she had lain awake in bed for a number of hours wondering how she could be so undesirable that Booth did not want to sleep with her. After all, he had slept with Cam, her infuriating boss. Although short and thin, Cam was not a person to be reckoned with. She had a fiery temper which manifested itself all too often. Brennan had learned to watch for the warning signs; a blaze in her dark brown eyes and a flush to her smooth, dark cheeks. Brennan supposed Cam was pretty enough with womanly curves and a smooth, unblemished face. But the thought that Booth—her Booth—would sleep with Cam still irked her.

Since when did he become my Booth, the voice in her head asked. He's not a possession. With a start, Brennan realized she was jealous. She was acting just like all the women she had earlier criticized. Although she tried to suppress it, the jealousy continued to bubble to the surface, mocking her for her weakness. Frustrated, she left her office to examine a couple bodies from limbo, hoping that her work would keep her mind off of Booth.

Unfortunately, this task proved to be impossible, for Booth himself walked into the room ten minutes later. "You're early," Brennan remarked without looking up from the bones she was studying. During the time they had worked together, Brennan had gained the uncanny ability to sense Booth's presence without actually seeing him.

"I couldn't sleep," Booth said, walking to her side and leaning over to kiss her. Brennan backed away.

"We're at work," she reminded him.

"So? No one is around." Placing an arm around her waist, he pulled her close to his body and gave her a lingering kiss. When he finally pulled away, Brennan scanned his figure quickly. He did not look as if he was suffering from lack of sleep; his eyes were sharp and clear, and his hair and clothes were neat.

"You might want to wipe the lipstick off," Brennan told him. Hastily, he brought a hand to his lips and rubbed off the offending color.

"Since when do you where make-up, Bones?"

"Angela bought it for me and complains if I don't war it. Besides, there's no reason to let it go to waste."

"As always, there's a logical reason." Booth leaned against a nearby table and watched as she examined the body, dictating observations into her tape recorder from time to time. Although Brennan felt his stare, she ignored him until he stood and moved closer.

"What do you want, Booth?" she questioned, distracted.

"This." Booth leaned down and kissed her once more, inserting his tongue into her mouth as she responded eagerly. After a couple minutes, he finally pulled back, breathing heavily.

"Do you find me undesirable?" Brennan questioned suddenly, surprising Booth.

"What?" he asked.

"Do you find me undesirable?" Brennan repeated slowly.

"I think that most recent kiss proves I don't," Booth remarked. "What brought this on anyway?"

"I was just thinking that you had sex with Cam and-"

"Stop right there!" Booth said, holding up a hand. "What Cam and I had and what you and I have are two completely different things. With Cam, I was just 'releasing biological urges' as you would say. But as I already said, I want our first time to be special because our relationship is special. Trust me, Temperance, you are the most desirable woman I have ever met. It's taking all of my will power not to jump you right now. But somehow, I'm going to wait. "With that, he kissed her again, enjoying the feel of her body pressed against his."

Brennan finally broke contact when the hard edge of the table pressing into her back became unbearable. She felt as if a haze had settled over her mind; one part of her knew she was at work and should act professionally, but another part of her wanted to kiss him senseless. Attempting to avoid the conflict, she returned her attention to the body in front of her as Booth sank into a nearby chair wearing a goofy smile.

For almost an hour, Booth continued to distract her until Brennan finally threatened him with a scalpel. Sulking, he again took a seat, distracting himself by flipping through the information in Diane Jacobs' missing persons file. Jack and Zach arrived at eight, and Angela waltzed in ten minutes later. Cam was the last to arrive; she merely glanced at the other members of the team who were talking amicably on the platform before pursing her lips and shutting herself in her office. "She's jealous," Angela remarked.

"Of what?" Brennan questioned.

"You and Booth."

"Why would she be jealous of me and Booth?"

"Because he's in love with you. And she's in love with him."

"He's not in love with me," Brennan argued.

"Of course he is. And even if you won't admit it, you're in love with him, too." Satisfied that she had planted the seed, Angela turned and left without realizing that a tree had already grown. Glancing at Booth, Brennan raised her eyebrows, and he nodded, extracting himself from his conversation to join her.

"Ready to go do some interviews?" he questioned. Brennan nodded, and he placed an arm around her waist as he led her from the building.

Since Diane Jacobs was unmarried, they stopped first at her parents' house. Removing his arm from Brennan's waist, Booth pressed the doorbell, and hurried footsteps inside announced the arrival of a small, slight woman with graying hair and hazel eyes. Booth raised his badge, introducing them. "I'm Special Agent Seeley Booth with the FBI, and this is my partner, Dr. Temperance Brennan."

"Did you find Di?" Mrs. Jacobs asked.

"We did, ma'am," Booth said.

"Was she dead?"

"I'm afraid so, ma'am."

Mrs. Jacobs' eyes followed with tears, but she wiped them quickly away. "After a month you know she's probably never coming back, but you keep hoping she'll walk in that door again one day."

"We're very sorry for your loss," Booth sympathized. Brennan, who had never been very good with people, allowed him to do the talking.

"At least I know now. Knowing is much better than wondering what happened to her. I can finally put her to rest."

"Do you mind if we ask you a few questions, ma'am?" Booth asked.

"Of course not. Come on in." Mrs. Jacobs opened the door wider, allowing Booth and Brennan to pass. They followed her to the living room, taking a seat on the large, comfortable sofa.

"Did Diane have any boyfriends?" Booth questioned.

"I'm sure she did, but she never talked to me about them. She called about once a month and visited a couple times a year. I always told her I could come up and see her more often since she only lived a couple hours away, but she always told me not to bother."

"When was the last time you saw Diane?"

"About five months before she disappeared."

"Do you know of anybody who would want to hurt Diane?"

"I can't think of anyone."

"Maybe a neighbor or coworker," Brennan suggested, gently prodding.

"No, nothing like that."

"Did you notice any changes in her behavior?"

"She called a couple weeks before she disappeared, but she seemed perfectly normal. She talked about her job for awhile, asked how I was doing, and promised she'd stop by in a few weeks. But she never did." Mrs. Jacobs' eyes filled with tears once more, and she grabbed a tissue from the box in front of her. Booth waited until she had composed herself somewhat before continuing the questioning.

"Did Diane mention a boyfriend?"

"Not in the last couple years. She dated a few men, but she always claimed that nothing was serious. She was too focused on her work to have a steady relationship. Being a good lawyer is a twenty-four-hour job."

Booth was silent for a moment, attempting to find a way to phrase his next question delicately, but he was unsuccessful. With no alternative, he decided to use the straightforward approach. "Did you know Diane was pregnant?" he inquired.

"Pregnant?" Mrs. Jacobs' head quickly shot up to stare at him.

Obviously not, idiot, Booth chastised himself. "I'm afraid so, ma'am."

"How far along?"

"Analysis of the bones indicated that she had already given birth," Brennan answered before Booth could speak. He glared at her, and she immediately closed her mouth. Spending time with Booth had taught her that she had a tendency to be tactless.

"Already given birth? Then where's the baby?"

"That's what we're trying to figure out, ma'am," Booth assured him. "Can you think of anyone who might be the father?"

"No. I can't believe she never told me!"

"She never mentioned anything about it?"

"Never. I should've realized she was hiding something!"

"This is not your fault, ma'am."

"It still feels like it is."

"Can you think of any thing at all that might give a clue as to what happened? Any problems at work? Maybe a difficult case?"

"No, I'm sorry. Di seemed happy with her job; she had a few minor complaints from time to time, but she still loved it."

"Okay. Thank you for your time, ma'am. If you remember anything further, please give me a call." Booth handed her his card as the two stood up to leave. Ms. Jacobs led them to the door, shutting it as they walked out. As they strode to the car, Booth's arm automatically moved around Brennan's waist, resting just above her hip. Although not the most intimate of gestures, Brennan's lack of complaint indicated that she had opened up somewhat.

They next stopped at the law firm where Diane had worked. A frazzled secretary at the front desk pointed them toward a desk in the back as she answered the ringing phone. Booth approached the woman sitting at the desk the secretary had indicated, displaying his badge. The woman looked up from her computer, flashing Booth a dazzling smile when she saw him. For some inexplicable reason, Brennan's insides curdled when she saw the sparkle in the other woman's eyes. "Can I help you, Agent. . . ?" the woman questioned politely.

"Booth," Booth supplied. "And yes, you can actually. Did you know Diane Jacobs?"

"Of course I knew Diane. She was a great lawyer. But she disappeared four months ago. Why the sudden interest?"

"I'm afraid we found her body."

"Her body? That's horrible! I always assumed that she ran off with her boyfriend."

"Did you know her boyfriend?"

"No. She never talked about him. But she must have had one at one point in time. I mean, she was pregnant."

"Was he still in the picture?"

"I don't really know. I honestly never saw him. Diane and I weren't really close; we just talked a few times."

"Do you know anyone who was close to her?"

"Not at the office, no. She came in, did her work, and left. She didn't spend much time socializing. She probably has friends outside of work, but I couldn't give you any names."

"Can you think of anyone who might have wanted to harm her?"

"Not really. I told you she didn't make any friends at the office. Well, she didn't make any enemies either."

"Any problems at work?"

"No. She was good at what she did."

"Was anyone jealous of her abilities then?"

"Agent Booth, everyone here is good at what they do."

"Can you think of anything which might have contributed to her death?"

"No, I'm sorry."

"Well, if you do think of anything, give me a call." Booth handed her a card, and she clutched it in her perfectly manicured hands.

"Of course. Good luck."

After a quick lunch, Booth dropped Brennan off at the lab before heading back to the Hoover Building to finish some paperwork. "I'll pick you up at your apartment at 6:30 tonight," he told Brennan. "Try to actually be ready. Cocktail attire or something similar."

"Why? Where are we going?"

"That's a surprise."

"What's the occasion?"

"I just want to spend time with the woman I love."

"But we could just as easily spend time at my apartment."

"Bones, we're going out. Just accept that and enjoy it."

"Fine."

"And call me if you or the squints find anything."

"Okay."

"Goodbye, Babe." He cast a quick glance around before, giving her a short kiss.

"Booth, we're at work. And don't call me that."

"Sorry, Bones. I'll see you at 6:30 tonight." As Brennan stepped out of the car, he waved goodbye and pulled away.

Although all the members of the lab worked tirelessly for the rest of the afternoon, they discovered no new information. Five-fifteen found Brennan in her office, packing up some files and other items she would need for the weekend. Booth would likely insist that she not go in to the office, as he had the past two weekends, and she wanted to be prepared to work from home. She certainly did not plan to waste the entire weekend. "Hey, Sweetie, I'm going to get going. Don't stay too late," Angela announced, walking into Brennan's office. When the artist saw her friend's arms laden with paperwork, her eyes widened in surprise. "You're going home already?" she asked, quickly adding, "Not that I'm complaining."

"I figured I might as well."

"Got a hot date or something?" Angela questioned, expecting an immediate negative response. However, Brennan remained silent, and this reticence delighted Angela. "You do, don't you? Good for you. It's about time. Who is it?"

Brennan knew it was the perfect opportunity to confess everything. In fact, Booth's name was on the tip of her tongue, but something stopped it from rolling off. It hung for a moment, balancing precariously, before a new phrase replaced it. "I met him on the internet," Brennan fabricated, feeling like a teen trying to go out with someone who her parents would never approve of. Fortunately, Angela bought the story, leaving the room with a single piece of advice.

"Have fun. And do something I'd do."

At precisely 6:30, the doorbell rang, and Brennan answered it to find Booth wearing a smile and carrying a single red rose. Leaning over, he gave her a long, passionate kiss which left her breathless and wishing they were staying in. "Ready to go?" he questioned, passing her the rose.

"Just let me grab my purse and put this in some water," Brennan said. Pulling a glass from the cabinet above the sink, she filled it halfway with water and placed the rose in it. Finished with that task, she lifted her purse from the sofa and rejoined Booth at the door.

As she turned to lock the door, Booth quickly scanned her attire. She wore a red cocktail dress which came to just above her knee, leaving a good deal more leg exposed than her outfits usually did. The bodice of the dress was tight enough to reveal her graceful curves but far from inappropriate. She wore a large black shawl to keep her warm, and a silver necklace with matching earrings completed the outfit. Putting his arm around Brennan's shoulders, Booth pulled her ear close to her mouth and whispered, "You look beautiful."

"Thank you. You're not so bad yourself," she added, eying his suit which fit close enough to his body to display his muscular torso. Although Brennan saw him in a suit nearly every day, the one he wore that night looked oddly different, perhaps because he was currently wearing it for pleasure rather than business.

"So, where are we going?" Brennan questioned again, still hoping for more of an answer than she ha received before. But Booth was stubborn.

"It's still a surprise." He opened the door of his car for her before moving to the other side and sliding into the driver's seat. For a few minutes, they sat in silence as he drove, but it was not the uncomfortable silence that Brennan usually experienced on dates. Both sensed what the other was thinking, and they were able to communicate effectively without words. Instinctively, Brennan reached for the radio dial though she herself had no desire to listen to music. She knew, however, that Booth hated driving without background music, and she had grown accustomed to hearing some form of music while they drove; in fact, she had begun listening to the radio even when driving by herself. She had picked up a number of Booth's habits.

For a few seconds, she fiddled with the dial, finally stopping when she found a clear signal. Booth listened for a moment before inclining his head by a barely perceptible amount. As usual, however, Brennan picked up on this subtle movement and changed the station, stopping when she saw Booth nod slightly. "Time for pop culture 101," Booth remarked, coming to a stop at a red light before turning to face Brennan. "Can you tell me the name of this song and the artist?"

"How should I know that?"

"Bones, sometimes I wonder if you live under a rock. This is 'Face Down' by Red Jumpsuit Apparatus."

"Red Jumpsuit Apparatus? What kind of a name is that?"

"It's just the name they chose."

Brennan listened for a moment before remarking, "It's a rather depressing song."

"A lot are these days," Booth told her.

"Why?"

Booth shrugged. "Depression sells."

"That's a sad commentary on our society," Brennan said. "If we want to hear about depression, it seems-"

"What did I say about science and our relationship?"

"You told me not to bring science into our relationship. However, I'm not bringing doing that. I'm merely discussing the anthropological significance of-"

"Okay, new rule. No squinty stuff on dates."

"I was just trying to have an intelligent conversation."

"Intelligent is okay. But normal intelligent."

"Normal intelligent?"

"Yeah. Keep the scientific mumbo-jumbo to a minimum."

"Mumbo jumbo?"

"It's an expression. It means stuff that normal people can't understand."

"Normal is a matter of perspective."

"People like me."

"Fine. What should we talk about then?"

"Whatever you want as long as you follow the rules."

"What happened between you and Cam?"

"Next topic, please."

"You said whatever I wanted, Booth," Brennan declared stubbornly.

"Fine. But I've already told you most of it. I met Cam at a bad point in my life; Rebecca had just refused my offer of marriage and was talking about not letting me see my son. So I was in need of comfort when I met cam, and she gave me a shoulder to cry on—figuratively, of course. She was also willing to listen to my angry rants and sympathized with me. So we started dating, I'm not sure if I ever had real feelings for her, but if I did, they faded soon after we started going out. But I felt like I owed Cam something since she had helped me to get over Rebecca, so I continued to see her for six months. I finally decided that I wasn't being fair to her or me, so I broke up with her. When I saw her again at the Jeffersonian, I didn't really know what to say, so I tried avoiding her for awhile. She cornered me one day and asked me out to coffee, and for some reason, I said yes. She talked about restarting our relationship where we left off, but I said I didn't think that was a good idea. When she asked me why, I told her the first thing that came to my mind—the truth. I told her I was already in love with someone else."

"When was this?" Brennan asked.

"About a week after she came."

"That explains a lot," Brennan said to herself, thinking of Cam's cold treatment over the past few weeks.

"Explains what?"

"Why Cam doesn't like me. Angela was right, I guess."

"Angela was partially right. But I've known Cam longer than either of you, and I know she has to feel superior to everyone around her. You're smarter and more beautiful than she is, and she feels threatened." Booth looked at Brennan who was staring out at the road in front of them.

"So she wants to be the dominant female then?" Brennan finally asked, turning to Booth.

"Exactly, Bones."

After nearly half an hour of driving, Booth pulled into a parking space in front of a large brick building. Glancing at the cars surrounding them, Brennan could immediately tell that Booth had chosen a nicer restaurant for dinner that night. Once more, she wondered why; she would have been happy with takeout at his apartment. Looking over at Booth, she opened her mouth to tell him this; however, the words died in her throat. Although she had never been good at reading people, she knew Booth well enough to ascertain his mood with a single glance. Currently, he watched her with an eager gleam in his eye, obviously wanting to see her reaction. His excitement was infectious; a smile formed on Brennan's lips, and she remarked, "It looks nice."

"Let's hope the food tastes good, too," Booth added, wrapping an arm around her waist to lead her inside.

The hostess seated them at a small table in the center of the room. Ever the gentleman, Booth pulled out Brennan's chair for her before sitting himself. After giving each partner a menu, the hostess left, and both began to peruse the food selection.

Their dinner conversation was light and cheerful, a stark contrast to their typical conversation at work. For once, Brennan did not even think about corpses or murders; she simply enjoyed Booth's company. After dinner, Booth paid, and the two left, still laughing and enjoying themselves. Booth drove to his apartment, taking Brennan's hand to lead her to the elevator. Instead of pushing the button for his floor, he hit the button for the top floor. Brennan glanced at him curiously, but he simply stared at the doors, offering no explanation. Once the doors slid open, he brought her to a heavy metal door and dropped her hand to fiddle with the lock. Soon, it clicked open, and he swung the door open to reveal a narrow staircase. "After you," he told Brennan who apprehensively approached the first step. She began to climb, feeling a bit claustrophobic. Sensing her uneasiness, Booth placed a hand on her lower back, and its weight reassured her. She knew Booth would protect her.

At the top of the stairs, another door barred Brennan's path; she pushed this one open to reveal a large expanse of concrete, broken occasionally by rectangular outcroppings which indicated the presence of large fans for cooling the building. Directly in front of Brennan lay a quilt with nearly a dozen unlit candles arranged around it. Booth emerged from the stairwell behind her, shutting the door and sliding the lock into place. "Why did you bring me to the roof, Booth?" Brennan asked, turning to face him.

"Just wait," he told her, holding up a finger. Pulling a lighter from his pocket, he carefully lit the candles before taking Brennan's hand and leading her to the blanket. He sat, pulling her down beside him, and she pulled her shawl more tightly around her shoulders to block out the chilly wind. Noticing this, Booth unfolded a nearby blanket and wrapped it around her before securing it in place with an arm around her shoulders. "Now look up," he instructed.

Brennan did as he asked and was rewarded by seeing a large expanse of stars. "I'm surprised that the light pollution in this area doesn't obscure them," she remarked.

"I'm just glad it doesn't," Booth said.

"So am I. Do you know that some of these stars are so far away that light takes thousands of years to reach us? We are literally looking into the past. And we don't need time travel machines which are impossible anyway unless you accept the existence of tachyons or if someone happens to solve the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle. But it's extremely unlikely."

"You're really one of a kind, Bones."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I mean that you're unique and I love you."

"I love you, too."

"Good." Booth turned and planted a kiss on her forehead. Slowly, he moved his lips downward, kissing every part of her face until their lips finally connected. Gently, he pushed her over so that she lay on the blanket with him above her. Supporting himself with his hands planted next to her head and his knees surrounding her hips. They continued to kiss for a few minutes without rushing but instead savoring the moment. Booth knew they had plenty of time, and he intended to use it.

With great deliberation, Booth moved his lips to Brennan's neck. He could already feel his desire building though both were still fully clothed, but he forced himself to remain slow. His lips reached the base of Brennan's neck, and he continued to explore her smooth skin with his teeth and tongue. He was rewarded by her moans of pleasure when he touched the more sensitive spots. Carefully, he reached a hand beneath her, fumbling for a second with the clasp. She arched her back to give him better access, and he quickly slipped the clasp apart and unzipped the dress without removing his lips from her skin. He began to kiss his way down her body just as he had done with her face, slowly pushing her dress down just in front of his lips. When he reached her stomach, he dipped his tongue into her belly button before reversing the journey, leaving her dress hanging around her hips.

"You have too many clothes," Brennan muttered. Her words ended in a gasp as his tongue reached her clavicle. She moved her hands to his neck, deftly unknotting his tie and pulling it off. His jacket was the next thing to go; Brenan pulled it from his shoulders and tossed it to the side before beginning to undo the buttons of his shirt. He had not removed his lips from her skin during the entire process, and Brennan felt a seemingly endless shiver of anticipation travel through her body. Her fingers were shaking slightly, and she had some difficulty coaxing the final button from its hole. Eventually, however, she managed to slip it through the small slit, and she pushed the shirt from his shoulders with a little help from him. Booth's lips had returned to hers, and she planted an arm firmly beneath her, using all of her strength to push them over so that she hovered over him. Languidly, she moved her lips and hands over his chest, giving his body the same attention he had earlier given hers. Her fingers traced the smooth lines of his hard muscles as she mentally recalled the names of each. For some reason, this silent recitation was oddly erotic; feeling each new line beneath her fingers caused a new twinge of excitement to travel down her spine.

When she reached his pants, she quickly unbuckled his belt and tossed it aside. "My turn again," he said before she could remove the rest of his clothes. Without warning, he flipped her again, somehow unclasping her bra in the process so that he could freely explore her entire body. His mouth went to work on her breasts, and the nipples hardened almost instantly. She squirmed beneath his touch, gasping with pleasure. Briefly, Brennan wondered if she could orgasm before he even touched her body below the waist; she certainly felt ready to topple over the edge of the cliff she currently stood on.

After a few minutes, Booth's hands moved to her waist, pushing her dress fully off her body. He also removed her shoes before beginning to kiss her legs, stopping when he reached the middle of her thigh. Already, he could feel the heat of her desire, and he felt himself harden further at the thought. Brennan wriggled impatiently, warning, "Don't you dare stop."

"Wouldn't dream of it," he assured her before removing her underwear, brushing his finger across the inside of her thigh as he pulled it down her legs. Brennan felt as if her entire leg was on fire; she was having difficulty controlling herself. When his lips returned to their previous position, she felt his hot breath on her sex, and she moaned loudly, clenching her fists to stop from tumbling off the cliff. His lips moved closer, and his cheek brushed the curly hairs which seemed to stand up in eager anticipation. Brennan wanted to tell him to stop, but she only managed a loud groan when his finger slid into her opening. It was becoming harder to breathe; Brennan felt herself slipping. As his finger moved, she managed to unclench her jaw and mutter, "I-want-you-Seeley."

He did not answer with words but instead removed his finger and quickly kicked off his shoes. In no time, he had fully divested himself of his clothing, reorienting himself so that he hovered just above he. Slowly, purposefully, he lowered himself into her. He fit perfectly, so perfectly that Brennan briefly wondered if people truly were meant to be together. These thoughts were soon banished to the back of her mind, however, as he began to move inside her. The emotions which cascaded through Brennan's body were like nothing she had experienced before; complete euphoria settled over her until she could think of nothing except the feel Booth inside her. For the first time in her life, the logical side of her brain completely shut off. She was no longer thinking of bones or murderers; her entire focus was on the man above her.

Booth's pace increased as his desire built, and his eyes locked with Brennan's. Brennan saw a mixture of emotions reflected in the deep, chocolate-colored orbs—desire, passion, and, ultimately, love. She could deny the existence of this emotion no longer. Love was real. It had to be, for love was what she and Booth shared. "I love you, Seeley," she said suddenly, needing to show him that she finally understood.

"I love you, too, Temperance," he echoed, implicitly acknowledging her understanding. With that, he lost control, releasing himself. Feeling the rush of warmth inside her, Brennan came also as her walls clenched around him. Their screams of love mingled together as the floodgates finally broke, releasing the emotions that had been building for a year and a half. They were firmly linked, and their connection was one that nothing could break.

After awhile, the waves of pleasure subsided, and they lay side-by-side, still connected. For a few minutes, they kissed gently, reluctant to break contact. Eventually, Booth pulled his lips from Brennan's and rested his forehead against hers, asking, "So, do you understand the concept of making love now?"

"I think I do."

"Good." He kissed her for a couple more minutes.

"I'm still not really sure about love though," she admitted. "I mean, I know I love you, but I don't know why."

"You can't always know why, Temperance. I know that's hard for you to accept."

"It's getting slightly easier."

"I'm glad. I'll have you believing in aliens in no time."

"It's very unlikely that aliens do exist. And if by some chance an extraterrestrial lifeform does exist, it's likely be something similar to bacteria. Simple lifeforms are much more common than advanced ones since they require less evolution, and the chances of making contact with an intelligent lifeform are vitually nothing."

"So I believe something which is scientifically irrational. What else is new? In case you haven't noticed, I don't rely on science for everything. Sometimes, I take a leap of faith."

"You know I can't do that."

"Which is why we make great partners."

"What about lovers?"

"I'd say we make great lovers, too." Booth smiled as he leaned in to kiss her again.

Brennan woke to find herself lying on a hard, unyielding surface with the sun shining directly in her eyes. Blinking, she realized she was still lying naked on Booth's roof; when she looked over, she saw Booth snoring gently beside her in a similar state of undress. The blanket was twisted around his legs, leaving of his tanned body exposed. In the daylight, Brennan could clearly see the well-defined muscles that her probing fingers had discovered the previous night. He certainly had an impressive physique, and he was a more capable love-maker than any of her previous partners had been, but something else made their relationship truly unique. Booth was the first person Brennan had loved since her parents had disappeared; he had broken down the walls around her heart, teaching her how to feel. His presence was a constant reminder that the world was not completely terrible; everyone in her life was not destined to leave. He had stayed. He would continue to stay. Always.

As if feeling her stare, Booth began to stir. His eyes opened slightly, and a smile spread across his face when he saw Brennan. "Good morning, beautiful," he greeted, reaching to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. Leaning forward, Brennan kissed him soundly, and he responded by pulling her closer. After a couple minutes, however, he pulled back remarking, "If we don't stop now, we're going to start last night all over again. And as much as I enjoyed it, I'm not sure if my body could take another last night."

"Getting old? Brennan teased.

"Just suffering from lack of sleep. Someone kept me up all night."

"I didn't hear you complaining."

"Touché." Boot kissed her again, feeling his erection form almost immediately. "And there I go again. What have you done to me, woman?" he questioned.

"I guess I don't know my own strength." Booth chuckled. He was enjoying the new, lighter side of Brennan. She had not mentioned anything remotely squinty since she had awaken; in fact, she was actually teasing him. It seemed that Brennan was considerably looser and less scientific after love making.

"Strength, huh? Think you can go four for four?"

"Five for five actually."

"Really? I guess I lost count."

"There's no need to brag, old man."

"I wasn't bragging. And who were you calling old man?"

"Who do you think?"

"I'll show you old." Suddenly, Brennan found herself lying on her back with Booth hovering above her. "Is this old?" he asked, kissing her neck. "Or this?" His lips moved to her throat. "Or how about this?" His lips landed on her breast as his tongue circled the nipple.

"Oh, God, Seeley," she moaned as he continued his ministrations.

He paused, smiling wickedly, and lowered his lips next to her ear. "Still think I'm old?" he questioned.

"Maybe just a bit," she said, gasping as he nipped the cartilage near the bottom of her ear.

"Well, we'll just have to change that." His lips returned to her thighs, kissing the bare skin there. Suddenly, she felt his tongue at her entrance, and she clenched her teeth to keep from screaming. The devious muscle probed deeper, stimulating her in ways she never dreamed possible, and her hips bucked toward him. He continued his attack however, holding her to him with one hand as the other reached below to join his tongue. In less than two minutes, Brennan was gone; she screamed his name as her hips thrust upward and waves of pleasure washed over her. She literally saw stars; her vision blurred and her ears began to ring as she reached the precipice. Booth continued to make love to her with his teeth and tongue, stopping only when she finally lay back on the quilt, breathing heavily. He kissed his way back to her lips, muttering, "Five for five, check."

"What about number six?" Brennan inquired.

"Talk about insatiable."

"I'm sorry. Are you too old for this?"

"Let's go for ten."

Thirty minutes later, both were covered in sweat despite the chilly temperature of the day. Booth lay back on the quilt with his hands behind his head, and Brennan curled against his side, listening to the soothing beating of his heart.

"What time is it?" he asked, full of groggy contentment.

"Probably around 8:30 or 9:00," Brenan answered, glancing at the sun.

"I have to get up. I'm picking Parker up at 10:00."

"Right. I should be getting home anyway."

"Not so fast. You're spending the day with me and Parker, remember?"

"Booth, I don't want to intrude on your time with your son."

"You're not intruding. I already told you that Parker loves you."

"Fine. But I still have to change."

"Okay, I'll drop you off at your place on my way to pick up Parker. You can change, and I'll pick you up again on my way back." As he said this, he rose to his feet and began to dress. Slinging the quilt over his shoulder, he collected the candles, and Brennan helped him carry them to the apartment.

An hour later, Brennan sat in her apartment waiting for Booth. She had changed into a maroon turtleneck, a pair of comfortable blue jeans, and her old white sneakers. Hearing a knock at the door, she called, "It's open," before rising to her feet as she drained the last of her coffee.

The door clicked open, and the patter of small feet announced Parker's arrival. He quickly found Brennan and inquired, "Are you ready to go, Dr. Bones." He had adopted his father's nickname.

"I am," Brennan answered.

"Good. Come on." Grabbing her hand, Parker began to drag Brennan out of the room with Booth chuckling as he followed them.

"Wait, I need my coat," she said. Parker stopped obediently, and she grabbed her heavy black jacket from the hook by the door. As soon as she slipped her arms into the sleeves of the coat, Parker again grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the room.

For the entire ride, Parker explained what he was doing in school and peppered both Booth and Brennan with questions on everything from astronomy to the identity of certain bones. Brennan was unusually patient in her explanations, and Booth marveled at her interaction with his son. Though she began by answering with complex terminology that no four-year-old would understand, she quickly realized her mistake and actually began to give simple explanations, much to Parker's (and Booth's) delight. Reaching over, Booth grabbed her hand and squeezed it gently, smiling at her. So far, so good.

They stopped first at the park, and Booth pulled a picnic basket, a Frisbee, and a baseball and three gloves from his trunk. He passed a couple of the items to Parker, and Brennan offered to help with the others, but he shook his head, insisting on carrying them himself. Parker soon found "the perfect spot," and Booth set the blanket down where his son indicated. Parker decided he wanted to play with the Frisbee first, so Booth tossed it to him and moved to stand a few feet away. Instead of throwing the plastic disk to his father, Parker sent it flying to Brennan who reached out to catch it. Unfortunately, it sailed straight through her outstretched hand. "I forgot to warn you that Parker has a good arm," Booth said.

"What do I do now?" Brennan inquired once she retrieved the Frisbee.

"You throw it to one of us," Booth answered simply.

"How?"

"Haven't you ever played Frisbee before, Bones?"

"Not really. I always had something better to do."

"Well, it's a good thing Parker and I are here to teach you how to have fun." Booth approached her and stood behind her, wrapping one arm around her waist and allowing his other one to follow the curve of her arm so his hand rested on top of hers. "Now just pull back like this," Booth instructed, bringing both their arms back together. "And aim, bring your arm forward quickly, and release." Brennan did as he asked, releasing the Frisbee a bit late. It flew in a path to Parker's left, wobbling slightly as it went. "Not bad, Bones," Booth commented as Parker ran after the Frisbee and caught it deftly between his two small hands. "Don't worry. You'll get better."

Booth was right; Brennan did seem to improve as they continued to play. She soon began to enjoy herself, laughing with Parker when Booth hit himself in the leg as he attempted a fancy behind the back throw. Eventually, they settled down and ate a lunch of turkey sandwiches, chips, and apple slices before beginning to play catch with the baseball. Around mid-afternoon, Parker began to grow bored with the park, and Booth suggested that they visit the Washington Memorial.

"I've seen the Washington Memorial, Booth," Brennan reminded him.

"Not with us."

"How will it be any different?"

"Trust me, it just is."

Once again, Brennan found that Booth was right. A visit to the Washington Memorial was much more interesting with the Booth boys. Parker's questions and sense of wonder at everything allowed Brennan to appreciate some aspects of the memorial that she had previously dismissed. Booth provided an entertaining commentary throughout the tour, adding an amusing anecdote at each stop. Brennan had trouble stifling her laughter after some of his remarks, and the tour guide continued to glare at her. It was the first time in awhile that Brennan had felt completely carefree, and she relished every minute of relaxation. At work, she rarely had the chance to laugh. Staring at decomposing remains did not lend itself well to amusement. But Booth seemed to make her day brighter; each offhand comment he made would broaden her smile. As Brennan walked through the Washington Memorial with her hand clasped tightly in Booth's, she found enjoyment in something other than bones for the first time in years.

As they rode an elevator to the top of the memorial, booth asked, "What do you think ,Bub? Should we show her our special place?"

Parker thought for a minute before nodding. "As long as she keeps it a secret," he declared.

Booth looked at Brennan with a wide grin. "What do you say, Bones? You promise to keep it a secret?"

"I don't even know what I need to keep a secret."

"You'll find out in a minute if you promise."

"Fine. I promise then."

"Good." The elevator arrived on the top floor with a ding, and Booth led Brennan and Parker to the right, away from the multitude of gawking tourists. There was a small alcove which was partially concealed by the bank of elevators; the other tourists were so intent on finding the perfect view from the other side that they had completely overlooked the small, secluded spot. Booth smiled as he squeezed himself into the spot, lifting Parker to give the small boy a better view. Brennan moved into the small space beside him, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. From their vantage point, Brennan could see most of the city, its buildings laid out like those in a model.

"It's beautiful," Brennan breathed as her eyes roamed over the city.

"Just like you," Booth said, turning to kiss her.

"So was it worth it?" Booth asked as they walked back to his apartment, Parker still in his arms.

"It was," Brennan told him. "Though taking the stairs back down might not have been the best idea." Booth laughed.

"It gave us good exercise."

"Are we getting dinner now?" Parker questioned.

"Of course, Bub. Daddy's going to make his breaded chicken."

"With Mac and Cheese?"

"And carrots."

"Yuck. Carrots are nasty."

"But they're good for you."

"Are they, Dr. Bones?"

"They are. They help you to see very well."

"Oh, could I get X-ray vision?"

"It's physically imp-" Brennan broke off when Booth shot her a look. "You might," she answered instead.

"Cool! Daddy, can I have lots and lots of carrots when I get home?" Parker asked excitedly.

"Of course, Bub." Turning, Booth caught Brennan's eye and nodded, assuring her that she had handled the situation correctly.

After a home-cooked meal of Parker's favorite foods, the three settled down on Booth's faded couch with a bowl of popcorn. Booth started the movie, and Parker clapped when he saw the animated clownfish appear on the screen. "I keep asking Mommy to let me see this, but she won't get it," Parker explained.

"Well, you'll be able to see it now," Booth said as he settled on the floor and pulled a couple weights from beneath the end table.

"What are you doing, Booth?" Brennan inquired.

"Working out," he answered simply as he began to do slow bicep curls with the weights. When he saw Brennan's puzzled expression, he elaborated. "I like to work out at least three times a week, usually while I'm watching tv. It helps relax me and also keeps me in shape for apprehending criminals."

"Multi-tasking. It makes sense I guess." Brennan watched him for a couple minutes, admiring the smooth ripple of muscle beneath his shirt with each fluid motion.

"Like what you see, Bones?" Booth questioned.

"It's perfectly natural that I do. Women want a man who can protect him, so our instincts tell us to choose a male with a muscular physique."

"I thought you could protect yourself."

"Of course I can. But my hormones still tell me to pick someone with well-developed muscles. That doesn't mean I need you."

"What are you talking about, Dr. Bones?"

"Just grown-up stuff. We'll be quiet now so we can watch the movie," Brennan promised. She turned her attention to the screen, purposefully avoiding watching Booth. He smiled smugly when he saw her reluctance to tear her gaze from his figure. Setting the weights on the ground, he pulled off his shirt. When she looked over, he shrugged.

"It was getting warm," he explained.

When the movie ended an hour and a half later, Parker was curled up against Brennan's side, half-asleep. She had automatically placed her arm around him, holding him close. Though she never wanted kids of her own, spending time with Parker had taught her that children were not completely bad. They had an interesting perspective on the world and were often wiser than adults in their assessments of people and situations. At the same time, they possessed a unique innocence that allowed them to overlook the world's hardships and simply relax. Brennan had to admit that it was nice to feel Parker snuggled against her side, his breathing deep and steady.

Booth, who had finished his work out and was sitting on Brennan's other side, stood and stretched. "I'm going to get Mr. Sleepyhead to bed and then we can watch something more adult," Booth suggested, ejecting the DVD.

"I not sleepy," Parker argued, ending his statement with a yawn that betrayed him. Booth raised an eyebrow.

"It's still bedtime. Come on, let's go." He lifted Parker off of Brennan and carried him to his room. Brennan followed, curious about their nighttime ritual. She stood in the doorway of the bedroom and watched as Booth carefully lay Parker in his bed and pulled the covers up to his chin.

"Are you gonna kiss me goodnight, too, Dr. Bones?" Parker questioned as his father planted a kiss on her forehead.

"Okay," Brennan agreed hesitantly. She moved to stand beside Booth and also leaned over to place her lips gently on the small boy's forehead. "Goodnight, Parker," she told him.

"Night, Dr. Bones. Night, Daddy. I love you both."

"I love you, too, Bub," Booth said.

"I love you, too, Parker," Brennan added.

"I told you," Booth said as they left the room.

"Told me what?"

"He loves you."

"I guess." Brennan shrugged as she sat back down on the couch while Booth started a new movie. When he joined her, he draped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. She lay against his chest as she watched.

When the movie was over, Brennan checked her watch. "I should probably get going," she said, rising to her feet.

"Okay. I can swing by your house around 9:30 tomorrow to pick you up, and you can come to church with us."

"I don't know. . ."

"Just look at it as an anthropological study of an ancient ritual. You might find it interesting."

"Maybe. So 9:30 tomorrow?"

"I'll see you then." Booth gave her a long, lingering kiss before leading her to the door.

A little after 9:30 the next morning, Brennan's doorbell rang. She answered it wearing a conservative, peach-colored blouse and a knee-length gray skirt. Booth smiled when he saw her. "Ready to go?"

"Just let me grab my coat." As soon as she retrieved it from the rack, she followed him to the elevator. His hand closed over hers while they walked, squeezing her fingers tightly.

"Are you gonna have lunch with us after church, Dr. Bones?" Parker questioned, traipsing along beside Brennan.

"We'll see," she said noncommittally.

"You should, Dr. Bones. Daddy makes good sandwiches."

"You're lucky to have a father who's such a good cook."

"Didn't your daddy cook good, Dr. Bones?"

Booth saw the pain cross Brennan's face and squeezed her hand comfortingly. "My father wasn't. . . around much," Brennan explained.

"Oh. Maybe he was working a lot. Just like Drew. He's never home much, but Mommy says that's 'cuz he's working."

"Maybe," Brennan told Parker.

After church, Brennan agreed to join the Booth boys for lunch. While Booth fixed the sandwiches, Parker played with his Legos in the living room. Brennan joined Booth in the kitchen, leaning against the counter as she watched him slice a tomato for the sandwiches. "So, how did you like the service?" Booth asked.

"It was very interesting. Anthropologically speaking, it was interesting to see the way which the culture worships."

"If you say so, Bones."

"No, church is truly a fascinating study of humanity's insecurity and fear of death. You need to create a heaven because it gives you hope for the future even if logically-"

"New rule, Bones. No talking to me about the logic of religion."

"I'm just saying that it's perfectly natural for you to need hope. It helps us to get through our problems."

"One day, Bones, you'll realize that religion is more than that." He put the finishing touches on the sandwiches and began to slice an apple onto Parker's plate. Brennan watched as he deftly cut through the juicy flesh, barely glancing at his hands.

"You're good at that," Brennan complimented.

"What? Slicing an apple?"

"Not that necessarily. Just the whole being a father thing in general." She watched as Booth tossed the core in the trash can and began to add banana slices.

"I'll let you in on a secret. I make up most of this stuff as I go along."

As they began into eat lunch, Parker asked, "Do you think you could teach me all the bones in the body, Dr. Bones?"

"Sure, Parker. Any reason why?"

"I just think it would be cool."

Booth groaned. "My son's turning into a squint."

"There's nothing wrong with wanting to learn."

"If you want to be beat up."

"That is a ridiculous stereotype, and I can't believe you'd-" Booth stopped her mouth with his.

"I know, Bones. I was just joking. Truce?"

"Fine." Smiling, Booth leaned over and kissed her again.

"Daddy, gross, why are you kissing Dr. Bones?" Parker asked.

"You'll find out in about twenty years," Booth answered, pulling away.

Four o'clock found Booth sprawled out across the living room floor as Parker poked various points on his body and named the bones located where his fingers touched. Although Booth had refused to participate at first, preferring instead to work out, he had eventually relented and joined the impromptu lesson. Of course, he had not known at the time that his role would be the human punching bag.

When Parker's fingers pointed to the wrong part of the body, Brennan would gently guide his hand to the correct spot. Parker had a surprising amount of patience for a four-year-old; of course, it helped that Brennan displayed a similar patience as she taught him. As he watched the interaction between his girlfriend and his son, Booth smiled. Although he knew Brennan would vehemently deny it if he told her, she was acting very maternal. Parker had taught her the power of a high-five, and she would hold her hand up each time that he identified a bone correctly so that Parker could eagerly slap it. When the doorbell rang, Booth stood to answer it and found Rebecca standing outside with an arm wrapped around the waist of her current boyfriend, Drew. "Hi, Seeley. We're here to pick up Parker," Rebecca said.

"Mommy, come see what Dr. Bones taught me!" Parker called from the living room. Rebecca raised an eyebrow at Booth who shrugged and stepped aside to let her pass. He followed Rebecca into the living room and was immediately accosted by Parker who pulled him back to the floor to identify his bones. He began at the feet and worked his way up his father's body slowly, receiving only occasional help from Brennan. When he finished, he turned excitedly to Brennan who raised her hand. Instead of slapping the hand, Parker threw himself into Brennan's arms, and she automatically hugged him tightly. "I love you, Dr. Bones," Parker said.

"I love you, too, Parker." Though both spoke quietly, Rebecca still heard the words of affection and turned to Booth who simply grinned. Parker next hugged his father.

"I love you, Daddy."

"I love you, too, Bub. Now, go get your shoes." As Parker ran off, Booth pushed himself to his feet and quickly gathered Parker's bookbag and coat. He handed both items to Rebecca who was still staring mutely at Brennan. "Yes, he said it," Booth confirmed softly. With great effort, Rebecca turned to face him.

"He's never said it to anyone but us. Not even Drew."

"He likes Bones. He has good taste."

"Don't start, Seeley."

"I said nothing."

"Okay, Daddy, I've got shoes," Parker announced when he returned. "Do I have to go?"

"You do. But I'll see you next weekend."

"Okay. Will Dr. Bones be there?"

"I will," Brennan promised.

"Say goodbye, Parker," Rebecca instructed.

"Goodbye," Parker said as he followed his mother out the door. As soon as Booth locked the door behind them, he turned to Brennan.

"So, did you learn what fun is this weekend?" Booth asked.

"I'm getting there."

"Good. Then you owe me a lesson."

"A lesson?"

Booth nodded. "In anatomy."

"Why would you want me to tell you about anatomy?"

"Not tell me, Bones. Show me."

"What do you mean show you?"

Leaning forward, Booth captured her lips with his. "Show me," he whispered, placing her hands on his shoulders. Suddenly, Brennan understood.

Brennan woke up after 6:00 the following morning in the arms of a naked man. And it was not just any man either. It was her partner, her best friend, the only man she had ever been able to completely trust. Turning slightly, Brennan watched him sleep for a minute. Sleep was the only time she ever truly saw him relax. Even when he was seemingly at ease watching a movie or playing with Parker, Agent Booth always lurked just beneath the surface.

After a couple minutes, Booth also began to wake up. He opened his eyes slightly and glanced at the clock. "It's too early," he groaned, shutting his eyes again. "Why are you up?"

"I always get up this early," Brennan told him.

"But we didn't go to sleep until late last night," Booth said.

"Well, I did sleep in this morning. I'm usually up at 5:30."

"You're crazy," Booth muttered.

"That's not crazy! It's perfectly rational that I would want to be up at a relatively early hour considering the workload-" Her words were suddenly cut off as Booth pulled her closer and pressed his lips against hers. As his tongue explored her mouth, his fingers explored her naked body.

"I've found my new favorite way of shutting you up," he remarked breathlessly when they finally pulled apart. Brennan nodded mutely. "Wow. I never expected the great Dr. Brennan to be struck dumb. So, I'm going to take a shower. Feel like joining me?"

"What purpose would that serve?"

"Oh. I can think of a few reasons. One, we'd save water."

"What's two?"

"You're smart. You figure it out."

As they emerged from the bathroom forty minutes later, Brennan remarked, "I think we actually used more water."

"At least we had fun doing it." He watched as she walked to his closet where she had earlier hung her business suit. She pulled it down and let the towel drop. Booth could not keep his eyes off of her as she pulled on her clothes. When she finally turned around, she noticed his gaze.

"What?" she asked.

"I was just thinking about how beautiful you are."

Brennan blushed. "You should be getting dressed. We need to leave soon." She turned to the mirror and began to brush her hair. As she brushed, she could not help but notice Booth changing behind her. He truly did have a well-structured body. His features were perfectly symmetric, and he was extremely muscular. Brennan watched the muscles ripple in his arms as he extended them to slip on an undershirt. Although she studied it every day, the human body never ceased to amaze Brennan. Somehow, a person's brain could coordinate the actions of numerous muscles to produce smooth and graceful movements.

Suddenly, Booth was behind her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed the side of her neck. "Don't," Brennan muttered.

"Why not?" he questioned.

"I don't want to be late for work."

"You work too much."

"We have a case," Brennan said. Her words ended in a groan when his tongue reached a sensitive spot. Booth sighed and moved away. Immediately, Brennan missed the contact.

"Let's go. We'll stop and get coffee and something to eat on the way," Booth said, turning. He slipped his arms into his jacket and strapped on his holster with his gun. Grabbing the keys, he opened the front door for Brennan and followed her out, locking the door behind them.

Booth dropped Brennan off at the Jeffersonian just before 8:00, and she entered the lab, hoping no one would notice her. Unfortunately, Angela had chosen that day to arrive early. "Sweetie, you're late," Angela observed.

"I guess I am," Brennan answered.

"Why are you late?"

"I overslept and there was a lot of traffic."

"A, you don't oversleep, and B, you're smiling way too much for that to be the reason. Why are you really late?"

"I already told you."

Angela studied her carefully. "You had sex, didn't you?"

"No," Brennan lied, but Angela was not fooled.

"You did!" Angela clapped her hands together. "It's about time. How was it?"

"We need to start working on the case."

"Fine. I'll grill you at lunch." Angela turned and walked back into the room where she waited while Brennan started toward the center platform.

"Hey, Bones, I was going to go interview the people from that class. You coming?" Booth questioned.

"What class?" Brennan asked.

"A Lamaze class at the hospital. I did some digging and figured out that our victim was registered for one. I thought we'd talk to the instructor and see if our victim had any friends there," he explained.

"Okay. I'm coming." Brennan followed him back to the car. Once she had slid into the passenger seat, she asked, "Why didn't we just go to the hospital straight from your apartment?"

"That would arouse suspicion. This way, it looks like we came in separate cars," he explained. "Of course, if you just tell them we're dating, we wouldn't need such secrecy."

"I'm just waiting for a good time to tell them."

"There's no time like the present."

"I'll think about it."

"Two weeks."

"I know."

Morning traffic slowed them down somewhat, so it was nearly 9:00 when they reached the hospital. Booth approached one of the nurses at the front station. "We were looking for Rebecca Maslek," he told the nurse. "I understand she teaches Lamaze classes here."

The nurse looked at them for a moment before pointing down a hallway to her right. "Room 115," she told them. "There's a class scheduled to start in about thirty minutes, so she should be there getting ready."

"Thank you," Booth told her.

"Congratulations, you two."

Booth smiled widely and threw an arm around Brennan's shoulders. "Thank you. We're very excited."

Brennan was puzzled. "What are we excited about?"

"Don't worry about it, Bones," Booth whispered as he steered her toward the hallway. Irritated, Brennan shook off his arm.

"No, Booth, I want to know! What did she mean by congratulations?"

"She thinks we're pregnant, Bones."

"What? Why? I don't look pregnant. My hips-"

"Are just fine," Booth interrupted. "She wasn't saying you looked pregnant. We were asking about Lamaze classes, so she just assumed. It's no big deal."

"Why didn't you correct her?"

"I didn't feel like explaining why we were really here."

"You know I don't want kids, right, Booth?"

"I know, Bones. Calm down. We're here." Booth gestured to a heavy wooden door labeled with "115." Booth pushed it open without knocking and found the room unoccupied except by a woman in her mid-forties. She turned when she heard the door open, her hazel eyes gazing curiously at the newcomers.

"Can I help you?" she questioned.

"I'm Special Agent Booth with the FBI, and this is my partner, Dr. Temperance Brennan," Booth introduced, showing is badge. "Are you Rebecca Maslek?" The lines on the woman's brow deepened as she nodded.

"Is something wrong?"

"We just have a few questions about a woman who was in one of your classes four months ago. Her name was Diane Jacobs."

Rebecca thought for a minute before saying, "She was in her early thirties. Blond hair. Did something happen to her?"

"Unfortunately, we found her body a few days ago."

"That's horrible!"

"What do you remember about Ms. Jacobs?"

"Not much. So many people come in and out of this class that I can't remember everyone. I believe she was some sort of businesswoman; she used to come to class in a suit. I also remember that she never brought a husband or boyfriend."

"Did she have a good friend in the class?"

"There was one woman who she talked to on a regular basis, but I can't remember her name right now."

"Do you think you could pick it out if I showed you a list?"

"Maybe." Rebecca took the list from Booth and scanned it quickly. "Briana Matthews," she finally said.

"Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure." Rebecca frowned at the list. "Yeah, it was Briana. I remember they were due around the same time. They used to joke about going into labor together."

"Did Ms. Jacobs ever talk about the father of her baby?" Booth inquired as he circled Briana's name and returned the list to his pocket.

"I don't think so. Not to me at least."

"Did she ever mention anyone who might want to hurt her?"

"I don't remember anything. I'm sorry. I didn't really know her that well. I only saw her once a week for class. You'll probably find out more if you check with Briana Matthews."

"Okay. Thank you for your time, ma'am."

"It was no problem. I hope I was some help."

"You certainly were, ma'am. If you think of anything else, just call me." Booth handed her a business card before placing his hand on the small of Brennan's back and walking out with her.

"How did she expect to handle a baby with her career?" Brennan inquired as they left the building.

"I'm sure she would have figured something out."

"But you can't exactly bring a baby into the courtroom."

"There's always nannies or daycare."

"I don't understand how people can bring children into this world."

"Look into Parker's eyes when he tells you that he loves you. Then you'll know."

They reached Briana Matthews' house fifteen minutes later. It was a lavish stucco structure with a wide, gently-sloping driveway. Brennan frowned at it. "I thought you said Briana Matthews was single and unemployed."

A pretty brunette in her late thirties answered the door. Her hair was pulled back in a neat bun, and her eyes were the artificial blue of colored contacts. She was thin with long, slender limbs and elegant curves worthy of a supermodel. Booth noticed her beauty, but he immediately thought, Bones is prettier. Glancing over, Booth mentally compared his partner with the woman standing in front of him. Brennan's beauty was more subtle that Briana's. She did not look like a supermodel, but there was something in Brennan, some indefinable quality that made her, in Booth's eyes at least, the most beautiful woman alive.

"Can I help you?" she questioned.

"I hope so. I'm Special Agent Booth and this is my partner Dr. Brennan. Are you Briana Matthews?"

"I am. Is something wrong?"

"We found the body of Diane Jacobs the other day. Brennan said before Booth could speak. "I understand you two know each other."

"Yes, but it's been awhile. I remember hearing that she had disappeared. I always thought she had just run away. I never thought. . ." Her voice trailed off, but she quickly recovered. "Come in." She stepped out of the doorway, and Booth and Brennan slipped through it, finding themselves in an elegant foyer. To their right, a curving maple staircase led to the upstairs. Numerous pictures hung neatly on the left wall though Booth did not recognize the artists, he suspected that each one cost more than he made in a month.

Once they had settled in the living room, Booth asked, "How well did you know Diane?"

"We had lunch a few times. We were both single and pregnant, so we had a lot in common. I think talking to each other made the prospect of motherhood was crazy for both of us."

"What else did you two talk about?"

"Just about anything. We could talk about something as mundane as weather one minute and switch to our feelings about pregnancy the next."

"Did Diane ever mention who the father was?"

"No. And I asked a couple times. She would just change the subject."

"Did she mention any of her boyfriends?"

"No. She-" At that moment, the baby monitor in front of them burst to life. "Excuse me for a minute," Brennan said, standing. She left the room, returning a couple minutes later with a baby dressed in a blue romper. Settling herself on the couch, holding the baby in her lap so that he was facing Booth and Brennan, she said, "This is Aaron." Aaron stared at the newcomers curiously and chewed on his fist.

"Is he your son?" Brennan questioned, studying the baby.

"Yes, he is," Briana answered proudly.

"Congratulations," Booth said.

"Thank you."

After a few more questions, Booth and Brennan thanked Briana for her time and left. As soon as the door closed behind them, Brennan remarked, "She's lying."

"About what?"

"The baby. He's not her son. The structure of his face is different than hers. His brow is too wide, his chin is too angular, and the cheekbones are much too high."

"Maybe he just looks like his father."

"He should share at least one feature with his mother."

"Well then, who do you think is his mother?"

"Maybe our victim. But I'm not sure."

"Well, the only way to be 100 sure is to run that baby's DNA against our victim's."

"We could have Angela use the mother's facial structure to determine what her baby would look like."

"Okay, we'll go back to the lab to talk to Angela." When Booth and Brennan walked in the door, Hodgins immediately approached them, waving a sheet of paper. "I think I found our victim's boyfriend," he announced proudly, holding the piece of paper out to Booth. "Eight months before she disappeared, she deposited a large check from one Jacob Rivers."

"You think it was child support?" Booth questioned.

"Actually, I think it was an easy way for him to relieve himself of his paternal responsibility," Hodgins said.

"You got a picture?" Booth inquired. Hodgins handed him a sheet of paper with a large, color photo of a man in his late thirties. He had short brown hair, eyes so dark the pupils were barely visible, and a long, narrow face with angular features. "Thanks," Booth said before turning to the room where Angela worked. Brennan followed him in, and they found the sketch artist bent over something at her desk in the far corner. "I have a favor to ask, Angela," Booth announced, striding over to the artist.

"Anything for my favorite FBI agent," Angela responded.

"If I gave you a picture of the father, can you determine what our victim's baby would be like now?" Booth questioned.

"I can't tell you exactly what he would look like, but I can give you a close approximation based on the facial structure of both the parents."

"Good. Do that. If we're not back when you're done, call us. We're going to go get some lunch at Wong Foo's."

"Okay. It'll be awhile though. I'm running the facial reconstruction on another body right now, and the Angelator doesn't like to be stopped in the middle of something."

"Okay, just get it as soon as possible."

As they walked out of the lab, Brennan asked, "What's the rush?"

"I'm afraid that Briana Matthews might get spooked and leave town if she knows we're on to her." He ran a hand through his hair. "I guess that lunch is going to be take out." When they reached the car, Booth stopped and used the arm encircling Brennan's waist to bring her closer to him.

"Booth, what-" she began, but the rest of her words were muffled by his lips. Immediately, Brennan melted into the kiss, bringing her body closer to his. Her hands moved to his neck, fingering the soft hair they found there as his hands sunk lower to rest on her hips. When they finally broke apart, breathing heavily, Brennan asked, "What was that for?"

Booth shrugged. "It's been a long day. I need something to keep me going." As he started to move away, Brennan suddenly leaned forward again. Although surprised, Booth certainly was not going to pass up the chance to kiss his Bones again. He pulled her closer so her hips were flush against his body and she could feel his desire. A sudden loud squeal broke the two apart after only a minute or so.

"I knew it!" Angela screamed. "I knew it even if you kept denying it."

"There's nothing to know, Angela," Brennan told her friend.

"Oh, there's plenty. I saw that kiss. And if I hadn't walked in when I did, it would probably have gone farther. It's about time."

"Nothing happened," Brennan insisted. "I just. . . tripped."

"Sweetie, that's the oldest and lamest excuse in the book. Besides, Booth seems a little excited for a simple trip." She glanced at Booth whose face reddened. "Now, I want details."

"Angela, we have to go," Booth said.

"Fine, but I expect to hear everything from you later. Both of you." She looked from one to the other.

"Okay. But we really need to get going now. Call us when you get that picture." Booth turned and walked quickly to the car. Before he reached it, he turned back and called, "Do you mind keeping this to yourself for awhile? I don't want someone to let it slip to Cullen. I need to tell him myself."

"I'll try," Angela said, still smiling broadly.

"We'll see you in a bit, Angela," Brennan told her friend, opening the door for the car. As soon as she slid into the seat, Booth started the car and backed out of the parking space. They drove to Wong Foo's in companionable silence and walked in together, holding hands. Brennan had never before understood the reason why couples held hands. It did not seem to serve a purpose. When Booth took her hand, however, she suddenly realized the purpose of the simple gesture. Holding hands linked them physically just as their love for one another linked them emotionally. By holding her hand, Booth was silently telling her that he would always be there for her. He would never desert her.

When Sid saw their entwined hands, he shook his head. "I wondered when you two would come to your senses," he remarked. "Your lunch should be out in a couple minutes." Booth started to pull his wallet out, but Sid shook his head. "It's on the house today. Consider it congratulations for finally pulling your heads out of your asses." With that, he disappeared into the kitchen before Booth could object. Booth sat at the bar to wait, taking the only available seat. Brennan moved to stand beside him, but he opened his arms to her, a clear invitation. She considered for a moment before settling into his lap, allowing him to put his arms around her and pull her closer. He pressed a kiss to her hair as his fingers pushed her shirt up slightly and moved over the smooth skin of her stomach.

After a few minutes, Sid emerged from the kitchen with two plates of food. "Actually, can we get that to go?" Booth questioned.

"You couldn't tell me this before?"

"You didn't give me a chance."

"True." Sid disappeared into the kitchen and returned a minute later carrying a bag. "Here you go," he said, handing the food to Booth as both partners stood. Before Sid could open his mouth to protest, Booth threw a couple bills on the table and left.

As they sat in front of Briana Matthews' house eating their lunch, Brennan said, "So now both Sid and Angela know. How long do you think it'll take for everyone to figure out?"

"I don't know. But I'm going to tell Cullen tomorrow just in case."

"What about Cam?"

"What about her?"

"Angela said she's jealous because she knows you're in love with me."

"Let her be. What Cam and I had ended a long time ago." At that moment, Brennan's phone began to vibrate.

"Brennan," she announced, flipping it open.

"Hey, Bren, I got a face for the baby."

"Good. Could you send it to my phone?"

"Already working on it."

"Thanks, Angela." Brennan hung up and waited for a moment while the phone loaded the picture. She recognized the face before the picture finished loading. Wordlessly, she turned the phone so Booth could see the picture, too.

"I guess we need to have another chat with Briana Matthews."

Thirty minutes later, Booth and Brennan were standing outside the interrogation room. Booth was holding Aaron who had fallen asleep on his shoulder. Brennan had watched him with Aaron since they had first taken him from Briana, and she soon realized that he was a natural with kids. Aaron had started to fuss only one while Booth held him, and Booth had shushed the baby quickly by rubbing soothing circles on his back. Brennan thought it would seem odd to see Booth, as large and muscular as it was, holding a tiny baby, but it seemed to fit him. After watching Briana fidget nervously for a few minutes, Booth turned to Brennan. "I need to question her," he said.

"I'll come with you," Brennan told him.

"Somebody has to stay out here with Aaron." He looked pointedly at her.

"I can't stay out here alone with him. I don't know how to take care of a baby! What if I drop him?"

"You won't drop him. Just put one arm under his lower body and use the other one to support his head, just like I'm doing. Now, hold your arms out." Booth carefully placed the baby in Brennan's arms, showing her how to hold him. Hesitantly, she moved her arms so that the baby's head rested against her shoulder. "See? I told you that you could do it," Booth said, watching her.

"What if he starts to cry?"

"Just hold him. You can try rubbing his back or pacing, too. Trust me, you'll figure out what to do. I'll be out soon." Before Brennan could stop him, he walked out of the room. She knew he was wearing that infuriating smirk that always formed when he thought he won an argument, and it took all of her willpower not to follow him and give him a piece of her mind. Looking down at Aaron, she took a deep breath to calm herself. Now that she was holding him, she realized that it was not as hard as she had expected. He was so small that he weighed virtually nothing, and his small, warm body was comforting. Brennan guessed that her reaction to Aaron simply arose because of her maternal instinct. She felt a perfectly natural desire to protect the children around her and thus promote the survival of the species. She might have enjoyed holding Aaron, but she was not going to suddenly change her mind about having children. If anything, holding Aaron simply confirmed that she had made the correct decision. Who would bring a child into a world where one woman killed another and kidnapped the baby?

When Booth entered the room, Briana glanced up at him. Her eyes narrowed. "Where's Aaron?" she questioned.

"He's fine," Booth answered evasively.

"You cannot keep me from MY SON!" The woman's voice rose in volume until Booth was sure that the concrete walls of the room shook with its force.

"Your son?" Booth's voice remained calm, for he had learned from experience that losing his temper in an interrogation room often did more harm than good. "I was under the impression that your son was a stillbirth." Booth pulled a piece of paper from the envelope he had earlier placed on the table. It was a death certificate for Baby Boy Matthews. Briana glanced at it quickly before looking away.

"I don't know where you got that from," she said. "My son is alive and well, I assure you. Now, I'd like to see him."

"Do you know we have a computer which can determine what a child will look like based on the characteristics of his or her parents?" Booth continued, ignoring her request. "Out of curiosity, my partner and I had a drawing made of Diane's baby. Would you like to see it?"

"I want to see my son."

"Again, Booth ignored her. "Here's that drawing." He placed a printout of the sketch Angela had made next to the death certificate. "Do you recognize this baby?"

"Agent Booth, I don't understand where this is going. I want my son, and I want to go home."

"Look, Ms. Matthews, we can either do this the easy way or I can get a warrant for your DNA and Aaron's. Personally, I would prefer it if you just told me everything now, and I'm sure the DA will, to. She's usually more inclined to cut you a deal if you cooperate." Booth fell silent, giving her time to consider. He did not want to push too hard, for he was likely to lose all the ground he had gained. He could tell that she was close to confessing.

Still not speaking, Briana reached over and picked up the sketch. She traced the outline of the baby's chubby cheek with her finger. Finally, she spoke. "She didn't deserve him."

"Diane Jacobs?" Booth asked.

"Yes. You know the only thing she could talk about while she was pregnant? She kept saying how the baby was going to affect her career, how she wouldn't be able to take as many important cases. She didn't even think about how wonderful it was to have this little life growing inside her or how blessed she was to be a mother."

"So she didn't want the baby?"

"Oh no, I think she wanted him on some level. But she just wanted other things more. You know, all I've ever wanted is to be a mother. When I first found out I was pregnant, I was the happiest I had ever been. I didn't even care that my boyfriend left me as soon as I told him. Then, after I gave birth, I didn't hear any crying, and I knew something was wrong. When the nurses told me, I didn't think I would ever be able to live again. I was so close to achieving my lifelong dream, but it had been ripped out form under me at the last moment."

"Then you remembered Diane Jacobs," Booth guessed.

"Yes. I remembered how she didn't want her baby. I thought if I talked with her, she would see how much better off her baby would be with me." She paused, scowling.

"But she wouldn't listen to you," Booth prodded gently.

"No, she wouldn't. She told me that she was sorry, said she understood how much I wanted a baby. But she said she was keeping Aaron. She told me she had fallen in love and she could never give him up. Then she had the nerve to tell me that I could come over whenever I liked to play with him. She even said I could be his godmother. But I didn't want to be a godmother. I didn't want to take care of her baby only when she didn't want the responsibility. I wanted to be a mother." She paused, still looking at the sketch of Aaron. This time, Booth remained silent, giving her time to continue. "One of my ex-boyfriends had gotten violent, so I had a gun to protect myself. I hadn't ever used it though. But I took it and went to her house. When she answered the door, she smiled and asked if I had come to see Aaron. I told her I had. When she turned to the door, I took out the gun. She heard the click and started to turn around. I told her to stay where she was. I explained that I had come to get Aaron. I told her everything would be okay if she just let me take him. But she tried to reason with me. She started to turn, and I pulled the trigger. My hand was shaking so much that I didn't think I had hit her, but I heard her body hit the ground and I saw the blood. I heard Aaron crying. I guess the sound had scared him. So I put the gun down and went in to comfort him. As soon as I held him, I knew I had done the right thing. She didn't deserve him. I did." At this last statement, Briana's eyes finally moved from the paper so she was staring directly at Booth. He saw that she truly believed what she was saying. She was not putting on an act to obtain a lighter sentence. She had killed because she wanted a child—someone she could love who would love her in return.

"What did you do next?" Booth inquired.

"I had watched enough tv to know about evidence and all that stuff, so as soon as Aaron calmed down, I started to clean up. I tied a bunch of garbage bags around her body and moved it to my car. Luckily, she was light, so it was pretty easy to move the body. Nobody saw me because it was so late. After that, I went back and found some bleach. I cleaned the floor and then wiped my fingerprints off of everything I had touched. I put my gun back in the pocket of my coat, and I later threw it in a lake. I then buried Diane's body under some leaves in the woods. When the police found out she was missing, they just assumed that someone had taken both her and the baby. They didn't even think to ask me, and everyone I knew just assumed that Aaron was my own baby."

After Booth had her sign a confession, he contacted the DA's office and walked back to the observation room where he had left Bones. He found her pacing the room with Aaron still held against her shoulder. She was singing something so softly that he could not hear the words. He stopped in the doorway and watched her, a smile playing at his lips. The scene was so domestic, so unlike Bones, that he found himself fascinated.

When she turned, she saw him standing in the doorway and stopped pacing suddenly. Aaron gave a gurgle of protest. "What are you doing, Booth?" she questioned, rubbing Aaron's back to soothe him. Booth was right; as soon as Aaron had started fussing, she had instinctively known what to do to soothe him.

"Just watching." Booth stood up and approached her.

"I heard you get a confession."

"Yep. The DA's talking to her as we speak." He was still staring at her. "You look good holding a baby, Bones," he told her.

"This hasn't changed my mind about having kids," she said quickly. Booth nodded.

"I didn't expect it to. Now, come on."

"I'm not a dog. You can't order me around."

"Sorry, Bones. Will you please come with me?"

"Where are we going?"

"To a drugstore a couple blocks from here. I want to pick up some diapers and formula for Aaron." He put an arm around her waist, guiding her out of the room. Still holding Aaron, she walked out of the Jeffersonian and followed him to the drugstore.

An hour later, Angela was walking to Brennan's office to see how the case was coming. She heard something that made her pause just outside the doorway. "Booth, what are you doing?" Brennan questioned.

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

"We shouldn't do that on the desk."

"Would you rather we do it on the couch?" Angela bit her fist to keep herself from squealing.

"Booth, that's not sanitary."

"Well, we don't have many options at the moment." Angela decided to leave the two alone for awhile. Her questions could definitely wait.

Inside the office, Booth had pushed some papers to the side and laid Aaron on Brennan's desk. "Are you watching, Bones?" he asked as he unsnapped Aaron's onesie.

"Yes, Booth," Brennan said in exasperation.

"Okay, so you first have to get rid of the old diaper. There are tabs on the side; you can just pull those and they should come loose." Brennan nodded, and Booth continued. "With boys, you want to keep them covered as long as possible. I learned the hard way with Parker that you tend to become a target when you change a diaper."

"A target for what?"

"What do you think, Bones?"

"I don't know. You're not being clear, Booth."

"Fine. Boys tend to pee on you. Is that enough explanation, Bones?"

"You could have just said that at the beginning."

"Anyway, after you take off the diaper, you want to clean him up with a baby wipe and then put on some powder. Then, you put the new diaper on. Make sure the bigger part is in the back; it's usually the part with the tabs. After that, just attach the tabs and you're done." Booth finished pulling on the new diaper and lifted Aaron into the air. The small boy giggled happily. "Oh, one more thing. Make sure you pull the tabs pretty tight. You don't want the diaper to fall off."

"Okay. It seems simple enough," Brennan said.

"It is. Now, if you'll watch him for a few minutes, I've got to go make some calls."

"Sure." Brennan took Aaron as Booth left. She looked at him for a minute before lifting the baby into the air as she had seen Booth do. She was rewarded with a toothless grin. Brennan could not help herself. She smiled, too. Holding Aaron in one arm, she wiggled the fingers of her other hand in front of his face. "Dancing phalanges!" she exclaimed. Aaron gurgled and reached out, wrapping a chubby fist around one of her fingers. "Yes, that's a phalange," Brennan told him, "although people often refer to it by its colloquial name—a finger." Aaron looked at her, his blue eyes seeming to register understanding. Brennan had read in a number of medical journals that babies often understood more than most people realized and were better able to learn because their brains were still developing quickly. She had heard of studies conducted that showed that children who heard two languages at home from birth would often grow up bilingual. So, Brennan continued her lecture, hoping Aaron might retain some of the information she gave.

When Booth walked back into the room, he heard Brennan explaining the anthropological significance of opposable thumbs. He smiled. That was the Brennan he knew. "Are you trying to get him to sleep, Bones?" Booth asked.

"He's actually interested," Brennan argued. Both looked down and discovered that she seemed to be right. Aaron's full attention was focused on her.

"Looks like we've got a squint in the making."

"He's four months old, Booth." Brennan looked up at her partner and realized that he was not alone. "Who's that?" she questioned with her usual bluntness.

"This is Julia Stiles. She's a social worker," Booth explained.

"It's nice to meet you, Dr. Brennan," Julia said, extending her hand. Hesitantly, Brennan took it.

"Why do we need a social worker, Booth?"

"She's here for Aaron."

"What about his father?"

"I called him. He made it quite clear that he wanted nothing to do with his son," Booth said bitterly.

"What about his grandmother then?"

"I called her, too. She has a heart condition, and she doesn't think she can give Aaron the care he needs. Believe me, Bones, I've tried."

"Not hard enough. He must have another relative willing to take him. We can't just put him in foster care."

"We'll take care of him, Dr. Brennan," Julia promised.

"No, you won't! He'll slip through your fingers and end up being just another kid on the streets! I've seen it happen plenty of times. I know what it's like."

"Bones." Booth placed a placating hand on her shoulders. Brennan turned to him, and he could see the unshed tears glistening in her eyes. She was always so strong and independent that he often forgot she had a softer side.

"How could you do this, Booth?" she questioned.

"I had no choice, Bones. It's my job." He caught her gaze with his, begging her to understand.

"I'll leave you two alone for a moment," Julia said, quietly exiting the room. Neither Booth nor Brennan gave the slightest indication of hearing her. They were still standing a few feet away from one another, staring at each other. Wordlessly, Booth moved forward and wrapped his arms around her. He felt her stiffen and thought she was going to push him away. Even after all the time they had known each other, Brennan still found it hard to rely on him. She was accustomed to being completely self-sufficient. It was not in her nature to lean on someone else for comfort.

"There's another option," Brennan said after a few seconds.

"Another option?" Booth pulled back and studied her carefully, wondering if she was going to suggest something which could cause him to lose his job. He would do anything for her, but he hoped such drastic measures would be unnecessary.

"I can take him," Brennan said.

"Bones, I have to put him in foster care. I know it sucks, but unfortunately, that's the way the system works."

"No, Booth, you don't understand. I am registered as a foster parent." The puzzled look on Booth's face pushed her to continue. "After I got out of the system, I wanted to help other kids out there who were like me. So I registered to be a foster parent. It was a lengthy process, and by the time it was done, I was so immersed in my work that I didn't actually help out with any kids."

"It could work, Bones, but I'm not sure you realize what a big time commitment a baby is."

"I can handle it."

"I don't doubt that. But do you want to handle it?"

"Of course. I don't want anything to happen to Aaron."

Booth leaned forward and kissed her gently. When he pulled back, he ran his knuckles down her cheek. "You never cease to amaze me, Bones," he told her.

"Booth?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you think you could. . . help out some? I mean, you've done this before, and I really don't have any experience."

He smiled, knowing how hard it had been for her to ask. "Of course, Bones."

A/N: So I borrowed the plot from Cold Case though I modified it to fit my purposes. But after Baby in the Bough, I thought it would be interesting to see how Brennan would react to parenting full-time. The case in the sequel will be one I make up all on my own, I promise.