A/N: I've read a lot of Bones fan-fiction, but have never written any until I wrote this fic. I was inspired after reading Alice Walker's poem "Listen." This fic is broken up into 6 sections, with a stanza of Walker's poem inspiring each one. These stanzas appear at the beginning of the section and are Alice Walker's words, not mine. Neither the poetry nor the characters belong to me.

There are spoilers for the entire series.

Since this is my first fic, constructive criticism is most welcome. I hope I've done these wonderful characters justice. Thanks for reading!

Listen,
I never dreamed
I would learn to love you so.

When the doors of the lecture hall opened and he walked through them, you barely noticed the interruption. When he asked you a question about destroying evidence, you smiled as you gave your answer, always certain of your knowledge and your facts. When your students began to exit the room, he walked toward you. When you shook his hand, you felt the familiar rise and pull of sexual attraction. Six years later, this man who stood in front of you that day would stand in front of you again and ask for a chance, just a chance. He would say that he knew right from the beginning.

You did not know right from the beginning, but you know now.

You remember a moment like a dream, a moment when you asked him if he loved you and he offered to prove that love. You remember other moments, too, when you also tried to offer proof.

You remember your firm and repeated "no" to his plea for a chance, convinced you were not enough yet scared you were somehow too much for him at the same time. You knew such a feeling was an illogical contradiction, and you used to hate that he made you feel such a thing all the time.

You remember your cautious smile as he showed you the photo of the woman with whom he had moved on and you wanted to tell him so many things: that you were sorry for not contacting him, that you thought of him as you knelt in the dirt, looking carefully for clues that would help explain our humanity. You did not say these things, but would later tell him that while you were away, you imagined the two of you together. You tried to convince yourself such a pairing would never last, but you considered something Booth told you once, something he heard from a wise British psychologist about the heart choosing what it chooses.

You remember telling the blond reporter about a phone, your eyes lighting up with the same joy you knew he'd feel when he received the gift. Though you know you're not always great at reading the signals other people give, you somehow learned how to read his. As he held the red bow in his hand and followed you to the door, you were able to smile with sincerity since you knew the look he was giving you meant that he knew who the gift was really from. You did not receive the thanks of his kiss, but his happiness was enough of a reward at that moment. You left his apartment (no, theirapartment) with a lightness you hadn't felt since a playful conversation about soul mates and Plato.

You remember moving your place mat to the head of the table, even though you wanted to leave it next to his but knew you couldn't because that seat was already taken. In enough time for the world to turn upside down, you felt an uncomfortable feeling you would come to label as regret in his SUV, cold and drenched from the rain, your own pain making it impossible to see the agony on his face as he clutched the steering wheel and silently cursed fate.

You remember the night in the bar when he was drunk and angry and told you about two choices. You were no longer denying that you wanted a third option so badly, but you stayed and you drank and you got him home safely, both of your hearts heavy with questions about timing and loss.

You remember these moments of trying to prove your love for him, though you weren't always sure that's what you were doing until he told you that you didn't need to prove anything anymore, that he was as certain of your commitment to him as you are of your science and bones. You believed him because he is Booth. You learned that after two heart-crushing rejections, a hopeful promise of finally taking that chance, and the pure delight on his face when you told him he was going to be a father again that he never wanted proof, but only wanted you.