Chapter One

He lay on his back. Legs askew, his left arm thrown over his head and his right hand rested on his stomach. The sheet had slipped to ride low on his hips and the only light was the offensive green glow from the blinking alarm clock. He squeezed his eyes tight against the reoccurring offense, willing himself to find his center, calm down, and fall asleep. He blew out a noisy breath, defeated. He slowly turned his head to glare at the clock.

4:47…..4:47…..4:47…..4:47…..

For a few seconds as he stared he could swear that his heart was beating in time with the clock.

4:47, beat…..4:47, beat…..4:47, beat

One thought crossed his mind, "what is it about 4:47?," of course he knew why 4:47 and what it was. It was the exact time when Bones had entered his room that morning weeks ago. Looking for answers, for comfort, and he knew in his soul for him. The reminder turned painful. In one swift motion he turned, grabbed and yanked the clock, sat up, and threw the clock across the room. It exploded with the force of his rage against the wall. He watched with a smile of satisfaction as the pieces bounced on the floor and the clock laid in a heap of jumbled wires and broken plastic. Well, he thought, at least that is one thing that can no longer sit and mock me. The satisfaction was temporary, unfortunately. As he sat on the edge of the bed reality came crashing back with full force and once again he wished he could push it all back to the dark shadowy corners of his mind. How had so much happened and changed, and yet nothing was different for him? Here he was alone, contemplating his life in the framework of what others wanted/needed all the while never getting what he wanted or needed. Usually he could work with it, he could deal. But not now, not this time. He couldn't lose and let her win, because really winning for her was just a way to avoid taking the chance and risking the loss. It was a hollow victory. Completely. But how was he going to do this, make her see, get her to play the game by his rules?

"I'm, I'm pregnant."

Those words echoed through his mind. It had started it all. At first he had been shocked, not that he wasn't aware that it was more than possible since he himself had enjoyed, most thoroughly, the process of causing that pregnancy, but that had quickly changed to elation and then apprehension. It was just that they had not discussed their relationship and its morphing dynamic, let alone the idea of starting a family. Instantly and uninvited vivid images flashed through his mind. Bones' face, the site of her vulnerability and loneliness etch in every line, her small words, so different from her normally self assured assertiveness, and her hands touching his chest, nothing overtly sexual but an assault on his senses none the less. Her sobbing, so unlike her, cut through his resolve. Then it had happened. She had pushed up and said:

"I need you."

Those three words had robbed him of his breath. He could no more stop what happened next then he could stop a speeding train. Then she had kissed him, tentatively but with a fierceness that left no room for him to question what exactly she needed from him. He could deny her nothing, hell he had never been able to deny her anything. She was, had always been, his weakness, his Achilles heel. As if of their own accord their bodies molded together, his hands speared through her hair grasping her in a primal way, holding her head, allowing her no escape. All his rational thoughts screamed at him to back off, slow down, and push her away. But rationality was weak compared to his need to love her, protect her, and heal her. He quickly, but gently flipped her beneath him. Looking down at her all the feelings that he thought he had dealt with, thought he had moved past came flooding back. They broke the dam and in that moment he knew. He knew. He was so afraid the she would take one look at him and see all he was feeling, and run scared. But what he wasn't truly prepared for was the image he saw staring back at him. Mirroring every thought and feeling he was having, there in Brennan's eyes. And just like that the game changed, the rules broken, and all bets were off.

"God Booth, please, please"

Was that really her voice? Brennan couldn't believe she was begging, but she really didn't care or really didn't want to take one second away from her present situation to analyze why she didn't care. She had seen Booth naked. That thought made her smile because while technically correct seeing him naked was so innocent compared to what she was seeing now. The pleasure she got from peeling his black shirt from his body had been inordinately disproportionate to the job. But really there was no help for it. The expanse of his chest was herculean. Oh god now not only was she begging she was acting like a lovesick school girl. Again she couldn't muster any energy to fend off the flights of fancy she was currently experiencing. All she could think about was his chest, and his hands. His hands were doing things to her body. How was he doing so much with only two hands, it felt like ten. She wanted the torture to stop no that was a lie she wanted it to never stop.

"Bren, you are so beautiful. I want…I want… I want to look at you."

His voice was gravelly and rough even to his own ears. He had barely been able to make a coherent thought let alone verbalize it. But he had to see her. He had wanted this moment for as long as he could remember. He had imagined it, often, but his imagination had not done justice to the truth. Bones was right, the truth was all that mattered. He rolled off her, almost instantly regretting the decision, but knowing he had to take full advantage of the situation that god had seen fit to thrust upon him. With his back to the bed he pulled his sweats off quickly, wondering if he should leave his boxers on or shed them along with his pants. In for a penny in for a pound, off they came. He glanced over his should and found Brennan kneeling, naked, on his bed. The site was surreal. Her hands were between her knees, her spine straight. Her eyes were clear, without any reservations or doubt, looking at him, willing him to come to her. Her shoulders slightly back and her breast, dear sweet god her breast, thrust forward doing things to his body that made him feel like a horny adolescent getting ready for his first foray into passion. She was unlike anything he had ever seen or could have imagined. Why had he not pushed this to happen years ago? He made a primal sound, somewhere between a grunt and a groan and turned to face her.

"You are magnificent."

Brennan's mouth went dry and for one second, really one nano-second, she felt unsure of herself, of her own body, of her ability to be what she knew Booth not only wanted but deserved. She looked back up and regained her determination. He started walking towards her and her body trembled. His knees bumped the edge of the bed and he stopped. She looked up and instantly she knew. She knew. She was where she was meant to be, she was home. She leaned forward and placed a kiss on his chest.

"I can't go slowly, I can't wait."

There was a frantic edge to his declaration, but there was no other option. She tilted her head slightly to the right. Their gazes collided and froze.

"I don't need slow Booth, I need you. I need you to save me, (she paused then warring with herself and her body) like always."

She reached up and wiped the tear from his face. She leaned in and kissed the other one away. Dear God when had he become so silly, so emotional, he was actually crying. He knew the answer of course. The minute she had walked into his life all those years ago. He didn't even know how much he needed her to tell him she wanted him to save her. All this time he had known she was capable and more then able to save herself. It just hadn't mattered he had to save her, to protect her, but more than that he needed her to want him to do it, to need him to do it. He wrapped his arms around her and cradled her head as he took them down to the bed. The feel of their bodies touching felt so damn right. He leaned in and kissed her along her jaw line up towards her ear. He grabbed the lobe in between his teeth and tugged gently. Her head fell back and her neck arched mimicking the movement of her back. A soft burst of air rushed past her lips followed by a throaty moan. Her eyes fluttered shut. Shit, he silently muttered to himself. He wanted to fineness this, make it slow and sensual. He wanted it to last because like always with Bones he was so unsure when this opportunity would arise again, he wanted to savor it. But she had proven too much for him. He licked her jaw line and looked at her face as he thrust into her with a force that bordered on brutal.

Colors shot across her closed eyelids. The force of the thrust was jarring, but electrifying all at once. She felt every inch of him engulf her and brand her his. Her thighs trembled and her hands shook as she hooked her feet together around his hips and reached up to caress the nape of his neck. She looked up at him then, feeling his gaze rooming her face. He had pushed himself up on his forearms and was positioned so he could watch her. For an instant they just looked at each other, hard angles and lines. Then slowly, as if in sync, small knowing twin smiles broke out across their faces. He took her then, starting off slowly but firmly. They began the primal dance of parry and thrust. Their hands exploring each other and their mouths paying tribute to the words they could not speak. There was a rightness to their coupling that had been missing from every other encounter. That thought sprung to both their minds simultaneously without the other knowing, they both wondered at the beauty of that truth. This is what two halves of a whole feel like when they come together, Booth thought. He could tell by the hitch in her breathing that she was getting caught up in the friction of their love making. He was getting so close and if he didn't find a way to slow this down he was going to be a disappointment to her. He had waited too long for this moment to do that. He reached between them and found her and began an assault with his finger. With his mouth he enveloped one of her nipples sucking and nipping mercilessly.

"BOOTH!"

His name was ripped from her chest. She was frantic to hold on and lose herself all at once. She wanted the electrifying feelings racing through her body, but she was terrified that she would lose this unique feeling of closeness she could have never prepared herself for. How could she feel this way? It was overpowering this need she had to be closer to him, to be inside of him. She was racing up the mountain, her heart pounding, her breath labored. All the while his name was bouncing off the sides of her skull, coursing through her brain and escaping out of her mouth on breathy little cries. They were like prayers to him. Each time she said his name. He felt powerful and weak all at once in her arms. He knew she was close, so was he.

"Tempe."

Her head thrashed back and forth. From a distance she heard him say her name but she shook her head, desperate not to surface from this haze of pleasure.

"Temperance love, look at me. Please."

Instantly her eyes flew open and scanned his face until their gazes locked.

"Booth, please, I am so close. Please don't stop."

"Never baby, never. I just need you to look at me. I want you to look at me when we go there. Please."

He couldn't explain it, this mania he felt. His desire, no his need, for him to watch her eyes as the pleasure overtook her. It was so powerful that he knew he was captive to it.

"Yes," she whispered.

Her gaze became intent. She knew that he would see it all. She could no longer hold the emotions at bay. She loved him with a veracity that threatened to overtake every aspect of her and her life. It would be there for him to see. She was helpless to it. She felt herself begin to shatter. It started in the very core of her, a little fissure of pleasure. She looked at him then. Really looked because what came next she could never have in a million years and all the research in the world believed if she had not felt it for herself, and she had to know if he was feeling it too. It felt as if her body was fusing with his. As the pleasure start to spread out shooting sensations from the core, it was as if those bolts were piercing through her skin into his, binding him to her. It felt as if her skin was melting from the heat of sensation and pleasure.

"Oh my God Brennan, I can't wait much longer. How do you feel?"

It was a dumb question, he always thought for someone to ask when having sex. If you had to ask then what was the point. But in this case it made perfect sense to him because this wasn't sex. This wasn't anything he had ever felt before in his life. It felt like his skin was melting into hers. He could swear he could feel her pleasure shooting into his body, pulling his out of him. If he lived to a hundred he would never feel this way again he was sure, and for one fleeting moment he wanted to weep for it. This was all he wanted to feel, right or wrong together didn't matter, this moment, this act was all he wanted. What happened next would surpass even this feeling. He could feel her body clutching him, milking him in her release. He was holding on by a shred of control.

"Like we are one." her answer.

He wouldn't have heard it, between the breathing, panting, moaning, slick sound of their bodies joining, and the mad thunder of his blood rushing past his ears if he had not been looking at her. He saw her lips move and read the words more then heard them. His last vestiges of control shattered then and he exploded into her. He tried to stop himself because he knew it was too hard, too much, too far. But he couldn't, he couldn't move for fear of dying so intense was what he was feeling. Their eyes still locked together for one last second and then he threw his head back and in a moment of sheer euphoria yelled out. She was quiet. And then she leaned up and softly kissed his exposed throat as tears streamed down her cheeks slipping onto the pillowcase below. She let her head fall back on the pillow has her pleasure began to fade.

She was ruined for all others.

She was scared.

His reality was forever altered.

He was scared.

Her flight or fight mechanism was kicking in. Panic began to fill her chest. He was loath to leave her, to break this connection, but he knew her. He knew she would need the space, the time. He'd be damned though if he was going far or if he was going to let her run. He carefully rolled off her. As he did he made sure to keep some form of contact with her. He settled on his side, taking deep breaths. He was still feeling the after affects and needed to steady his breathing. He made a grunt, laugh sound deep in his throat. Truth was with Brennan around he would never be steady again. He pulled her to him without hesitating. He molded his body to hers, spoon fashion. He reached down and pulled the covers up over them, knowing that soon the heat would wear off and the early morning chill would cool them quickly. He lay back down beside her, listening to her breath. He wrapped his arm around her more securely, needing to anchor her to him. After several minutes he began to drift. He leaned over and kissed the top of her head.

"I love you Bren," he whispered.

He fell asleep. She listened to him. His body seemed to hum with whatever was left from that incredible experience. He felt so warm and solid behind her. Like an anchor. Her panic had subsided when he had changed positions. Her fear had remained. She heard his words, whispered, but hitting her with full force. They did nothing to alleviate her fear, if anything they only escalated it. Love. Was that word even enough to cover what she was feeling, what had just happened? She always knew she was not saving him by holding back, she was running scared. So many people had "loved" her and taught her how painful and ugly that could be. She wanted to fall into her rationality, desperately. She wanted to be safe. Truth was she would not survive if Booth's love turned out to be ephemeral, and like all the others she had witnessed and experienced – if he left her too. He was the only solid and dependable constant in her world. All that would change if she allowed her emotions to engage, wouldn't it? She knew she couldn't avoid it, but she was so unsure. Unsure of herself, of him, of all she was feeling. Tears silently streamed down her face. She had not been prepared for any of this. Laying there she could hear Mr. Nigel Murray's voice begging her to stay. Begging. He had wanted her to help him stay. He had loved being there, working there, being with her. He had wanted to stay. Even though she had kept everyone at arms leg in an effort to stop anyone from seeing her and being able to be close enough to hurt her, leave her, he had seen through it and found something. He had wanted to stay. That had shattered her. For once when leaving was the only option someone had wanted to stay, fought to stay. And even then she couldn't do enough to let him stay. Everything around her always changed, and no one ever stayed. Her head was throbbing, her body numb, and her emotions were on overdrive. She was exhausted and just wanted sleep to relieve her. Ignoring all her swirling thoughts she concentrated instead on Booth's breathing and steady heartbeat, the rhythm lulling her to sleep. Tomorrow she would see things clearer and this would all be an anomaly in her otherwise well ordered and controlled world.

Booth came awake with a start, his eyes flew open and he took a deep breath. Her leg was tangled with his. A satisfied smile hovered on his lips as he turned to look at her. Brennan. His. The words flitted through his mind as he watched her sleep. He was pleased to see the evidence of his attentions included exhaustion too powerful for even his levelheaded scientists to overcome. He knew she needed to sleep. He desperately wanted to reach out and touch her, kiss the curve of her shoulder slumped in sleep. But it was not going to happen. Too much had already happened, he needed to give her time to adjust, give them time to adjust. One thing was sure they were a couple now. He sat on the edge of the bed giving himself a moment. He looked at her one last time. This memory, this moment, would be etched in his mind forever. Someday when he was old and past his prime he would flash back to this and he would forever remember when his soul had become one with hers. He silently made his way to the bathroom, trying to decide which he wanted more: a hot shower or a hot cup of coffee. In the end the shower won out. He let the water cascade down over his head, eyes closed, thinking of the hunt that was to come.

Brennan lay in the bed for a few moments regaining her bearings. Her body was sore, pleasantly so. She could still feel some residual body heat from Booth as she rolled to stretch across the bed. He was in the shower; it would be a perfect opportunity for her to leave. She would leave if this was a different time, a different guy. She couldn't, not this time. After all that had happened the one thing she was not was a coward, a realist definitely, but not a coward. She would rather face him now, here, then in front of the others. Sweets and Ang would see, they would know. She wasn't ready just yet for that. What she was ready for was a hot shower. Her smile was feline. She stealthily entered the bathroom. Booth's outline was silhouetted against the shower curtain. He had his hands braced against the wall, his head was hanging down. The water was cascading down his neck, bouncing off his shoulder blades. Her chest tightened at the site. He was a warrior, her warrior, preparing for battle. Her reaction was primal, anthropologically speaking. She walked around to the shower and grasped the edge of the curtain. Peeking around she admired the lines of his back, his buttocks, and his thighs. He hadn't heard her and didn't know she was there. She silently stepped into the shower and wrapped her arms around his waist, laying her head on his back.

He knew she was there. He was acutely aware of her. It was like he had a sixth sense where she was concerned. He didn't move. He wanted this to be her choice. When he felt her arms slide around his body pleasure coursed through him. He straightened slightly and rotated so they were facing each other.

"Morning"

She smiled shyly and responded by tightening her hold and putting her head against his chest.

"Hello"

"Here, let me turn you so you can get some water and warm up."

They turned in unison so the water could sluice down her back.

"How did you sleep," she asked him.

"Good and you?"

"Good, but I am still feeling a little tired."

"Mmmmm, yes well yesterday was…long," he smiled down at her.

They showered silently and quickly then. They got ready for the day, knowing that what they experienced last night couldn't be discussed today. There was too much else that needed their focus and attention.

"Bones we need to talk, but we need to get Broadsky first."

"I agree," she worried her bottom lip, needing to tell him more but not wanting to upset him or him to misunderstand her reasoning.

"What is it Bones?"

He knew her well. She had something to say, something she wasn't sure he was going to like or agree to. Bracing himself, he waited.

"I think we should wait awhile before we tell anyone about 'us', about this. If there is an 'us' and whatever exactly that means."

She looked at him hoping he understood what she meant. He smiled and she released the breath she hadn't even known she had been holding.

"Agreed. But Brennan," he grabbed her hand, "I think we are both very aware there is an 'us'."

Chapter 2 is almost complete. If you are interested let me know.

©RG2011