[A/N: Here's another oneshot trying to explore the events that led up to the end of S6. This story quite different from the last—and it's really NOT what I would WANT to happen. However, I'm hoping that exploring several possible angles for what might have happened at the ending of S6 will leave me content with whatever the genius minds who write the TV show will concoct for us. I won't bore you with all of my musings—just thought this one might be unexpected from me (stop laughing, Alli and Colleen) if nothing else….
Again, this is a little bit more radical spin on what could have happened. And it's more 'crass' than my usual stories. It's not graphic, but I'm still feeling angst about posting it (stop laughing, Alli and Colleen).
Eager (but almost afraid) to hear what you think—could it have happened this way?
P.S. I haven't forgotten about Vise. Promise.]
Prove It
Being this close to Booth made it difficult for Temperance to think and to breathe normally. As she had so often experienced within her less-than-platonic dreams about her very-well-structured partner, Temperance was struck afresh by his strength, his warmth, and his passion. Special Agent Seeley Booth was both a determined and ultra-satisfying lover. That's what her detailed imagination had always informed her.
Here in his bed again at this very moment, she was literally surrounded by his scent, heated by his warmth, mesmerized by the firmness of his muscular body, aroused by the...
Whoa.
Temperance Brennan woke instantly and realized clearly that the lines between her elaborate fantasies and her reality had become very much blurred. She slowly realized that she actually was where she'd dreamt that she was. She was in the bed of the man who had been her partner and her dear friend for years. She was wrapped tightly in his arms. Her first thought was that it was about time that happened.
But as the memory of the previous evening entered her consciousness, she realized that she had practically leapt into Booth's bed last night. He'd been nothing but sincere and helpful to her at a time when she'd needed his support. She'd clearly been distraught and acting out of irrational emotional instability. She had clearly not been thinking when she'd allowed Booth to hold her and rock her and cry a few silent tears with her and console her until she fell into a deep slumber.
For if she had been thinking clearly and rationally-as so often was the case, she would have realized that sleeping in Booth's bed—in Booth's arms—would result in her sleeping with Booth, being next to Booth, snuggling up to Booth while possibly even dreaming about Booth. And while none of those activities in itself would seem to be anything but enjoyable, the actual result of this set of circumstances was that she had woken up held tightly in the intimate embrace of her partner. And as she had done many times during her dreams, she had allowed her hand to wander down to "appreciate" a part of his body she was absolutely unfamiliar with during her waking hours. An intimate part of him she had once glimpsed for a moment and which she had clearly imagined to be as excellently crafted as the rest of his body. A part of him that she, as his awake partner and dear friend, should clearly not have been groping so adeptly even though her sleeping mind and body were overly familiar with doing so.
As unfortunate circumstances played out (for there was no such thing as luck), her partner who had been sleeping very soundly up until this point, opted to begin waking up. Temperance froze, her complete fear of her partner's reaction to this scenario shocking her into unanticipated inaction. As if the situation weren't potentially catastrophic and embarrassing enough, her partner-the consummate gentleman who was so absolutely averse to having indelicate conversations—appeared to be experiencing a similar collision of fantasy and reality when his partner was awake to witness it. For as his mind began to stir in a way that part of his body long since had, he began to moan her nickname in a way that clearly indicated that he was fantasizing about her doing what she had actually begun doing to him only moments before.
"Bones… Oh yeah… Baby… Mmmm…," Booth mumbled in his sleep.
Realizing that the window for moving so that he would not know what she'd actually been doing was extremely small, Temperance held her breath and began to move her hand away from her partner's body. However, Booth's speed and agility appeared as excellent in a semi-conscious state as when he was fully awake because he moved his hand down and clasped it tightly over hers—holding her hand exactly where it had been when she awoke—exactly where it would only exacerbate their current problem—exactly where neither of them would want it to be as he woke up.
She cringed as he pressed her hand closer to him, closing her eyes for a moment (realizing how much she had always underestimated him) and then finally daring to open them to look at him to see if he was actually awake. She wished for one fleeting moment that Booth would just wake up, enjoy her proximity and her touch, and roll her over and do what she'd so often dreamt they might do. Yet after that all too brief moment, she realized how unlikely that scenario happening really was.
PROVE IT… PROVE IT… PROVE IT… PROVE IT… PROVE IT… PROVE IT… PROVE IT… PROVE IT… PROVE IT…
Booth lie there silently as he processed the situation he had awoken to find. He glanced hesitantly at the beautiful face of his partner, felt the way that she was definitely gripping a part of him (a part of him he couldn't really believe she'd ever actually touch), and remembered what he'd been moaning in his dream.
Oh, God...
As much as he wished for this to be part of yet another at least R-rated dream in which he and his partner had long since stopped avoiding the relationship he knew they were destined to have, he realized all too quickly that the real Bones and Booth had not crossed that line. Hell, the real Bones and Booth hadn't crossed any lines. In fact, the real Bones and Booth had never slept together at all like this—or in any other way aside from dozing shoulder-to-shoulder on a sofa or sleeping lightly while trying not to touch one another (at least not the way they both wanted to touch one another) in a trailer during an undercover assignment or avoiding one another awkwardly in a hotel room out in Las Vegas as both of them reveled in dreams of the ridiculously sexy alter-egos they'd adopted for that undercover mission.
No, this wasn't happening. It couldn't be.
Bones has her hand on my... His body reacted as dramatically as his mind to this news. Oh God...
More rapidly than she'd anticipated, Booth released her hand and rolled away from her onto his back. He lie there staring at the ceiling and prayed that he was dreaming, that he had another brain tumor, that there could be some other explanation for what had happened. Oh God... Had he grabbed her hand and...? Oh God... He realized that he really had to stop calling the Lord's name in his head because he knew he was in big trouble with the Big Guy and with his possibly-former partner if he'd just done what he thought he'd done.
As he had so often done when his father had been searching for him or for Jared to smack them around, Booth lay still and closed his eyes and wished desperately to be elsewhere. He was perfectly still, but his mind was racing. He had never, ever seriously considered just groping Bones and dragging her to bed the way he could have and the way he sometimes did in his dreams. Even in most of his dreams, they'd talked and started a relationship before getting seriously physical. In his dreams, they were together in every possible way—not just physically as they had almost been a moment ago. And-as right as it had felt to finally be more intimate with the woman who owned his waking and sleeping thoughts even when he was off trying to fall in love with and marry someone else-he knew that the beginning of their actual relationship—the only one he'd really wanted for years and the one he hoped would last the rest of his forever—couldn't start awkwardly or cheaply or anything like this.
After squeezing his eyes closed tightly and then slowly opening them, he realized that he was awake, that Bones was in his bed, that she'd seen and felt his arousal and that she was...
SMILING at him?
Okay, so he must be dreaming because that wasn't on the list of possibilities he'd anticipated resulting from dealing with this situation anywhere besides in his dreams. Not even close.
PROVE IT… PROVE IT… PROVE IT… PROVE IT… PROVE IT… PROVE IT… PROVE IT… PROVE IT… PROVE IT…
She knew it was probably wrong for her to experience such pleasure in watching the various looks of shock and horror cross her partner's face. Certainly this situation was awkward, but they were both adults, neither of them were virgins, and this certainly didn't have to be a traumatic turn of events. But it was obvious that the ever noble and chivalrous partner of hers wasn't going to be able to arrive at that conclusion on his own. Instead, a myriad of adorably traumatized expressions had flashed across his countenance as he lie still and tried to pretend she wasn't there watching his obvious turmoil.
Eager to avoid any further emotional upheaval after the night they'd both experienced and more than amused by her partner's current distress, Temperance opted to find and exploit the humor in the situation in an attempt to counterbalance her partner's opposite reaction. She realized that Booth would resist her approach, but she hoped she could cajole him into laughing off their unplanned intimate contact.
"Good morning, Booth," Temperance half-cooed, watching as her partner slowly glanced in her direction. She'd seen this man mask his emotions and his suspicions masterfully dozens of times, but he was failing in all attempts to do so now.
"Morning," he mumbled too quietly, hating the fact that his voice was high enough to tell her clearly that he was rattled by what had just happened.
She waited, giving him ample time to make conversation, but he said nothing. Realizing that she would have to be the one to break the stalemate and shock him into conversation, she reached out and placed a hand upon his flexed bicep, remembering as soon as she did so that his entire body was as toned and prime for physical activity as she'd so often imagined.
He flinched slightly and glanced at her before moving his eyes away from her scrutinizing gaze. He felt like a lab rat—one that Bones was intent on examining. Hell, she'd already examined him thoroughly. His cheeks burned a bit as his body reminded him how thoroughly.
"Booth, there's no need for this to be awkward or for us to be uncomfortable with one another. It is normal, healthy, and quite common..."
He interrupted her, "Don't..." There was a threat in his voice as he spoke to quiet her. This was one science lesson he didn't need and wasn't planning on hearing—not from her. Especially not now.
Not deterred by his deflection, she continued, "I'm not making fun of you, Booth. In fact, I must say that I was quite impressed with how..."
"Knock it off, Bones," he half-growled.
"Is that meant to be some sort of euphemism? Because I'm not familiar with precisely how that expression might apply in this situation."
"Look. Tell that genius brain of yours that I'm just not going to talk to you about this... not now... not ever."
"But Booth, what you were experiencing was completely normal. And given the fact that I..."
"What part of 'leave this alone' aren't you picking up on here, Bones? This discussion," he said, motioning his hand back and forth between them while still avoiding eye contact with her, "is over."
His stubbornness ignited her own. "So we're just going to pretend that you and I didn't wake up with me working to increase your already impressive state of arousal?" she asked in that completely fact-based way of hers that made him want to smack himself in the forehead.
Booth squeezed his eyes shut and tried to breathe. Bones was really infuriating sometimes. If he had been able to think more clearly, he might have realized that she was being intentionally obtuse and difficult at this moment. But, in his hormonally-charged and frazzled state, he missed the subtlety of her reaction.
She waited for him to respond.
He sighed. She really just wasn't going to let this go. He had to get out of that room. Fast.
She paused momentarily before uttering a statement that would either move their relationship forward or erase all the progress they had been making, "The only plausible explanation for your reticence on this subject is that you responded specifically to my touch and that you do, in fact, want to have intercourse with me now."
"What?" he squawked loudly, sitting up and turning to face her despite his horror about their topic of their current conversation.
"Oh," she said in an almost wounded voice. Her emotional reaction threw him off completely. He didn't understand at first.
She began talking quickly and moving to leave his bed as he struggled to understand what she was thinking. Her perfectly constructed words were a poor cover for her disappointment, "So you really were just experiencing a normal morning physical response. I was... mistaken. It's clear from your reaction that you do not want to have intercourse with me. I understand. Besides, I really should be leaving now..."
"Bones...," he said softly, trying to convince her to look at him. He grasped her arm to keep her from pulling away.
She turned to him—hopeful yet more than a bit frightened by his hold on her. "Are you saying that you do want to have intercourse with me, Booth?"
"Yes!" he blurted honestly before realizing what he'd just said, "No! Bones, I can't believe we're having this conversation!"
Still struggling to appear indifferent and clinical about the entire matter, she continued speaking as if she were relaying a scientific finding and not hiding her ever growing disappointment, "I think it's only appropriate to complete this discussion since we've proceeded this far. It's not as if we haven't discussed our sexual compatibility before, Booth. But I see that you've changed your mind and that you no longer find me appealing as a potential sex partner. I think your response to my questions has been adequate evidence so that we can resolve this matter... permanently."
Someone should just shoot him. How the hell had he gotten into this situation? He needed coffee and a cold shower and maybe even some sort of medication in order to deal with all of this.
As he sat there mulling over his predicament, Temperance became embarrassed. She'd known better than to expect Booth to admit to any urges or desires he might have had. She'd pushed him too far and made a spectacle of herself. She moved to leave the room to avoid being faced with his rejection.
As he had mindlessly done since he'd met her, he followed her. He caught up with her quickly and grabbed her elbow. Determined to leave, she resisted. He tugged on her hard, effectively spinning her around and pulling her into his chest – back where this whole freaking situation had started. But this time, the fire in her eyes and the hitch in her breath set him off, "Dammit, Bones! Of course I want to make love with you!" he said, drowning both of them in a momentary blanket of silence.
"But you...," she began before he interrupted.
Never mind that wanting her had become a permanent part of him—like breathing and like being a father, for instance. "I'm a man," he said unnecessarily drawing attention to that well acknowledged and recently evidenced fact, "I'm a healthy, red-blooded heterosexual man. My best friend, my partner, one of the most beautiful women in the world asks to sleep in my bed, lies in my arms… chooses to spend the night right next to me. Of course, I wake up wanting to make love with you."
Despite its irrationality, her mind kept replaying that "most beautiful" phrase. However, she refused to take his words as evidence of what she hoped they might mean. Stubbornly, she pressed him further, "So it was physical and situational. You were simply affected by my proximity."
"Bones...," Instead of confessing his thoughts, he just looked at her. But his smoldering-if a bit doubtful-gaze communicated the fact that he realized that if he responded to her statement it would change things between them unalterably.
She realized that they had reached an impasse and that she was in danger of hearing that Booth actually might no longer view her as a potentially intimate partner. But she knew no other way to deal with the tension and the unspoken words between them other than to taunt him and bicker with him—old habits die hard.
Smirking at him to mask her own vulnerability, she confronted him, "I forgot that you are prudish in many respects. This entire conversation must have been incredibly uncomfortable for you."
"I...," he said in a gravelly whisper as his eyes bored into hers, "am NOT a prude."
This situation was becoming dangerous. She tried to ignore the metaphorical flames that were turning his deep brown eyes into darker, more enticing pools of chocolate. However, she was unable to ignore the effect his proximity and his physical prowess had on her. Her brain worked overtime even as her body's own rhythms sped up in response to his strongly male presence, "You are... by definition... a prude. Do you even know what the term 'prude' means?"
He glared at her for an even longer, more heated moment. "I…," he repeated in an even lower voice, "am NOT a prude."
"But you are extremely reticent about sexual matters...," she began before she felt him grasp her upper arms and pull her body more tightly against his own. She felt the balance of power shift and realized her partner's determination to win this argument.
"Bones, I am not... and have NEVER been... a prude," he growled in a low voice meant to intimidate her into stopping the conversation. She was literally killing him. Hearing her accuse him of not wanting what he so desperately wanted was an even bigger turn-on. He watched something dangerous flickering in those mesmerizing eyes of hers. He felt the heat from her body and her breath on his face. All this talking about not having sex was making him want mindblowing sex with her right there even more.
He'd only hated discussing sex with her because it had always made it harder to hide the fact that he very much wanted to have her in his bed every night. She suspected that might have been the case, but she had no real evidence aside from her physical examination of him that morning to rely upon.
The intensity of his gaze and his grasp on her drove her to demand the seemingly impossible from her partner.
"Prove it," she demanded, meeting his stare with an unspoken dare of her own.
PROVE IT… PROVE IT… PROVE IT… PROVE IT… PROVE IT… PROVE IT… PROVE IT… PROVE IT… PROVE IT…
She lie there void of emotion, purged of any energy, without the ability or even the inclination to think of anything. Never before in her life had Temperance Brennan felt so completely empty. However, at the same time, she honestly felt more alive and content than she ever had before. Had she been clear minded enough to contemplate the paradox, she might have realized that the simultaneous experience of such extremes indicated that this was a pivotal moment, a precipice, a turning point.
Taunting Booth into making love with her had proven to be an amazing way to experience the complete physical alteration of their relationship. While she'd always imagined that Booth would want their first intimate experience to be tender and romantic and rather clichéd if not somewhat restrained, she'd never even considered the possibility that it might unfold as it had. She had completely underestimated extent to which that man might want her and how (and how well) he might provide her with so much evidence of his need to connect with her intimately. Shocking her in the most delightful of ways, Booth had kissed her senseless and then literally and physically consumed her. She now found it fascinating that she no longer minded if she ceased to exist if it meant that she'd been so completely consumed by him that way.
Their lovemaking had been intense, overly satisfying, dramatic, and perspective-changing. Instead of being gentle and tender and care-taking as she had anticipated, Booth had not hidden his raw desire for and appreciation of her body, had not shied away from telling her what he wanted and then demanding more from her than she'd thought possible to give, had driven her body to heights of ecstasy heretofore unimagined (and then exceeded them), and had managed to maintain a pace and an intensity to their lovemaking that eclipsed anything she had ever experienced.
Laws of physics no longer impressed her. The man sprawled beneath her definitely did.
"Booth," she murmured against his quiet but still-heaving chest. She smiled as he merely grunted but still managed the energy to caress her bare shoulder and to plant a tender kiss in her hair.
Hardly able to move herself, she looked up at him. Anticipating evidence of affection and physical satisfaction, she instead found a look of hesitation on her partner's face.
Glancing away, she thought for a long moment. After that ultimately satisfying foray into an intimate physical relationship, she had not even considered that Booth might have regrets (other than perhaps a temporary regret for the bold way they'd introduced themselves to one another's bodies) or that he might consider that this could have been a mistake. Now, however, she was terrified that she had opened herself completely to the man she knew she loved only to find that she'd not been enough for him... or that he might now believe that they could not pursue anything more than this one-time sexual fling.
"You're not happy," she said quietly, hating the echo of fear in her own voice.
"That's not it, Bones. You...," he said, pausing to prop himself up on one elbow so that he could lean down and kiss her tenderly. "You were... are... more amazing than I imagined."
"But you look pensive... concerned..."
"I am," he confessed, running his fingertips along her arm as if grounded by the simple contact with her.
"Why?" she dared to ask, dreading the honest answer she knew he'd provide to her.
He lie back and lay there for a long moment collecting his thoughts. Then, smiling that crooked smile that she knew would forever be her undoing, he looked at her and confessed, "I don't know what this means."
She half-laughed at his choice of her oft-spoken words, but her concern about what he had said drowned out that happy sound quickly. Her expression grew more serious, and she looked at him for a long moment, hoping to see signals about where this conversation might be headed. If he were going to turn her away gently or tell her that this didn't mean what she'd hoped it had meant, she'd be crushed. She doubted that her heart would recover. She was already considering a retreat into the emotional cave from which he'd lured her. She tried to remind herself that this was Booth and that he was her friend. He would not intentionally hurt her. But would his breaking her heart in order to spare them later pain be something she could survive? She was suddenly consumed with an overwhelming sense of dread.
"What don't you understand?" she asked, daring to look up and face the man she adored.
"I... This... You know this wasn't the way I would have planned this, right Bones?" he asked, tilting his head and half-smiling at her sheepishly—but definitely not prudishly.
She nodded. Booth was taking his time. He was a decisive man who preferred to move things—especially conversations about emotions—along quickly. The fact that he was taking his time meant that he was thinking through is choice of words and his approach carefully. He wasn't ordinarily that guarded with her. What must have been her very own "gut" turned as she grew more concerned.
"This was... We were... You... Amazing," he stammered as he tried to describe what they'd just shared. She smiled at his inability to explain it. She understood completely.
"But I... I don't wanna lie to you, Bones. I'm worried. Because I don't know what this means-where we go next. We don't have a plan. We haven't made any decisions or commitments. I don't want to be unfair and try to pin you down or trap you into anything..."
She listened intently as he spoke, considering the irony of his thoughts in juxtaposition to hers.
"What I'm trying to say here is that, I think we need to talk... define this. Because if you tell me this was all physiology and pheromones and if you just want this… us to be something we do when the biological impulse strikes... Well, just pull out my gun and shoot me now or I might as well do it myself."
While his obvious implication that he wanted a relationship with her should have made her happy, she was wounded by the fact that he was even considering that she'd just toss him aside or toy with him or demean what they'd just shared despite the partnership and friendship they'd shared for years. Emotions raging, her sadness quickly turned to anger. Anger was much more comfortable to bear. It was far less terrifying than the sadness plaguing her since he'd spoken.
She sat up and turned to him, her temper flaring, "You still think I'm cold and distant? That I don't connect emotionally? You're not any different from any of the others! How can you assume that's how I'll react? I thought you knew me, Booth!"
"Whoa... Bones, I..."
"No, you're right. We... This... If you underestimate me that seriously then we should decide now that this has already gone far enough."
"Bones, I..."
As tempting as running away would be, she firmly stood her ground, "Do you really think I'm that emotionless and unable to connect? Don't you know how much I've changed, how much I've risked reaching out to you? How can you honestly think so little of me and consider my commitment to our friendship to be so inadequate?"
Booth was kicking himself for not realizing how she would take his words. He hated that he'd upset her so much, but he had no idea how to calm her down—not about this. He'd only wanted to cement things, get a commitment from her, agree upon a plan for their relationship—before pulling her back to him for more of his new favorite form of exercise. But Bones was now furious with him, and he understood how badly he'd screwed things up. He tried backpeddling but she wasn't giving him much time to speak, "I'm sorry... That's not what I meant! I..."
"You have to know that I'm not the person I was when I met you. I've grown and broadened my capability to risk and to allow others to care for me. I'm strong and loyal and have devoted much of my time and energy to this relationship. I'm offended that you don't value what I've offered and shared more. I have as much to lose in this as you do, Booth," she paused and looked up at him, and he felt his heart bang wildly as she spoke sincerely to him, "You're not the only one risking your heart here."
She pulled away but he reached for her and held her there, causing her to glare at him. She'd hoped for tenderness, for professions of his feelings, for patience and support. He offered none of those things in that moment.
Yet when he spoke, his simple yet pointed words cut through her anger, demolished both their fears, and handed her control of their relationship... and of his fate.
"Prove it," he said with an unmistakable challenge in his voice.
PROVE IT… PROVE IT… PROVE IT… PROVE IT… PROVE IT… PROVE IT… PROVE IT… PROVE IT… PROVE IT…
Temperance made eye contact with the person seated across the table. "You are, of course, free to arrive at your own conclusions about this matter."
As the silence continued, she felt more tension than she'd expected. She glanced to Booth, who appeared to be as concerned as she about the outcome. When her eyes met his, she saw a flicker of something silent in his eyes meant only for her. That glance took her back to their conversation just before this meeting.
"Every time you recount this story, you embellish it more dramatically," Temperance said as she slipped an earring into place and checked her makeup.
"You just like to pretend that I was the one who started things—steamy things between us. That I was the one clinging to you that morning," her lover said with a smirk as he walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist and planted a tender kiss on her cheek before leaving a searing line of more heated kissed down the column of her lovely and now-familiar neck.
"You were initially more insistent in expressing your physical desire for me," she said as she sighed and leaned into his able touch.
"That's what you got for calling me a prude," he mumbled against her carotid artery.
"I'll admit that I was quite mistaken about that aspect of your personality," she replied as he kissed his way back up her neck and to her lips-stopping to savor them.
He smiled at her and enticed her to grin back just as happily at him, "Well, you were just as emphatic about showing me how you felt about me that day, Bones. I'll admit, I hadn't expected it, but I loved seeing the tender side of you the second time we made love," he whispered before recapturing her lips in a gentle, slow kiss.
"Booth...," she half-whined, half cooed in response as she pulled her lips from his.
He squinted at her and pouted, "You're just trying to change the subject. But I know about the depth and reach of your heart, Dr. Brennan. And I intend on holding onto it forever."
"We'll be late," she deflected, a bit embarrassed as she always was whenever he reminded her how much she'd divulged to him about her feelings for him, her need of him, her reliance upon him.
As much as he would have enjoyed the activities that sprang to mind which would indeed have made them late, he realized that she was right. The thing about being in love with and in a relationship with a true genius was that she was way too often the one who was right and logical. But it was a big part of why he'd fallen in love with her. He could swallow his ego on a regular basis as long as she was there to reward him for doing so.
"You're right, Bones. You're right again," he said with a smile that showed her how much he adored her.
"It's always rewarding to hear you confess that I am correct. Especially because it is so often the case," she said with an approving smirk.
He merely shook his head at her as he reached to put his wallet and his keys into his pockets.
As she gathered her purse and her cell phone and made her way toward the door, she looked over her shoulder and said, "I'm glad that you can admit the wisdom of my observations. Besides," she said with a smile, "I thought you were the one nervous about telling my father. Certainly showing up late and disheveled will exacerbate what may already be a tense situation."
"Fine, I'll behave," he scoffed, narrowing his eyes at her as she walked back to smooth out a miniscule imperfection in the material of the lapel on his jacket.
"But... You don't think your dad... that he really doesn't approve of me... Do you?" he asked, his expression revealing more of his concern than he'd meant to show.
"All too often, I fail to understand the logic or the code of conduct by which you and my father communicate. However, interestingly, I think he approves of you very much. I just think he enjoys making you writhe. I suspect that he will enjoy this evening immensely—at your expense."
"Squirm. It's squirm, Bones. And you're worth any price I have to pay," he said, leaning in and initiating a kiss that nearly launched both of them onto the bed.
Ever thinking, Temperance was the one to pull away with a question, "You don't think that he'll actually try to murder you, do you?" she asked as soon as they broke apart, causing his happy grin to shift to a scowl.
"Murder the father of his grandchild?" Booth asked, trying to cover his actual concern that that might happen. "I doubt it."
"I was only teasing you, Booth. But if there is any cause for concern, remember that I'm not so far along in my gestational period that I cannot physically counter any attack he might initiate."
"That's my girl," Booth chuckled, wrapping an arm around her waist and leading her out of the bedroom.
"Booth, I have told you on numerous occasions...," she began another attempt to talk him out of using that particular term of endearment.
"Cut me some slack here, Bones. I've got to face your father and tell him that we're together, confess to Max how much I love you, and that I... that we... got you knocked up."
"I don't understand your consternation about this matter. We are adults. My father is well aware that I am no longer a virgin. I..."
Booth interrupted because he knew she didn't understand as well as he did why this conversation would be difficult for Max, "I won't blame your father if this is hard for him to hear. I mean, he seemed to act as if he wanted us to be together, but we're sort of springing a lot on him at once."
"Do you regret our decision to keep our relationship a secret?" she asked, a hint of worry in her voice.
He smiled at her in that way that made it very difficult to worry about anything for long, "No. Of course not. These last two months have been perfect—just ours. But you have to realize that it will take people time to adjust. I mean... this is pretty big stuff, Bones."
"Well our relationship is ours and should not affect others dramatically. It doesn't change the way we interact with them."
"It changes everything for us, Bones-in the best of ways. But trust me, Bones. Nothing about hearing this will appeal to your father's logical side. I know how grown up and independent and strong you are, but you're his baby girl. He'll threaten to kill me just to make sure I'm frightened enough of him to treat you well."
"Are you?" she inquired as they stepped onto the elevator.
He smiled at her and pulled his poker chip out of his pocket to begin fidgeting with it, "Yeah. I suppose I am. But I don't need a scary accused felon to make me want to be good to you and our baby, Bones."
Having noticed the way his partner had zoned out for a moment as they sat there facing her father, Booth reached across the table and took her hand in his, intentionally leaving their joined hands visible on the tabletop as a sign of their commitment.
"So what's the verdict, Max? You need to take me outside and rough me up? Or is my promise that I'll always love and care for your daughter and your grandkid enough for you?"
Still reeling, Temperance's father smiled at both of them. "I'm happy for you, Baby," he whispered, standing up and coming around the table to hug his daughter.
As he was holding his daughter and trying to digest the news that she was becoming a parent, he glared at the man he respected but who was asking him to admit that he would never again be the most important man in her life—not that he had been for at least the last six or more years, "Don't expect any hugs from me any time soon, Booth. I'm still keeping an eye on you."
"Wouldn't have it any other way, Max," Booth said with a grin, rising to shake the man's hand and to put an arm around his partner so that he could pull her back to his side again where she belonged.
The End.
[A/N: I must offer an earnest note of thanks to ceeray3, one of the most positive and encouraging people I've run across. Not only did she take the time to pre-read this, find mistakes, and offer excellent suggestions, but she also mentioned that the title of this story echoes the particularly yummy conversation Brennan and Booth had at the firing range in the pilot episode. I watched that episode again today and was reminded how much I love that Bones moment. I hadn't intended that connection, but it's a happy coincidence that these words were uttered in the episode that launched it all. Now if only I were as smart as C and had planned this story that well. But I don't pretend to write the way she does. Her "Two Peas In a Bucket" story is absolutely magical reading! Go read it now if you aren't stalking her for updates already! Thanks so much for reading here!]