AN: Hi all, this is my first Bones fanfic. I hope I do the characters justice! I think it will be three chapters, but I am not totally sure yet. Thanks so much to my wonderful beta W5Jasmine for all her help. Also thanks to Bones4Booth and junkiecat for their support, and the Twitter conversations that helped inspire me. Visit for my profile for links to my Tumblr and Twitter, if you want to follow me on either of those. Mara x

Disclaimer: I do not own Bones nor am I affiliated with the show in any way.

Spoilers: For 6x22 The Hole in the Heart

First Nights

one.

Temperance Brennan felt a pain in her temple. A reminder of the tears she had just cried. The tears having stopped, she lay quietly in Booth's arms. In Booth's bed. Her eyes danced across the room, cataloguing the contents of the unfamiliar space. Chest of drawers, bowling pin, forgotten socks. Her eyes stopped on the gun that lay at rest on the bedside table. Thoughts of the day flooded back in. Phone, Vincent, bloody hands. Unwilling to cry again, she defiantly pushed sadness to the side.

Booth, not wanting to stifle her, had stopped whispering gentle words when she had stopped crying. He let them relax in the comfortable, intimate silence that surrounded them. He held her close, gently but securely. His strong hand rubbed her back, reminding her he was there. She felt the warmth of his hand through his soft sweatshirt that covered her. Lying there in the aftermath of her emotional outburst, she felt slightly foolish, but not embarrassed. She didn't know if this lack of embarrassment was a good thing or a bad thing; she chose not to dwell on it.

After a few moments, however, she spoke. "Booth." She cursed her voice for it's shakiness.

"Yeah, Bones?" He tucked his head lower, closer to hers. She felt a gentle scratch of stubble against the top of her forehead.

"I find that I'm unfamiliar with the correct protocol for this situation."

"Situation?" he queried.

"Yes. I have never sought comfort like this," she said matter-of-factly, tilting her head back and bravely making eye contact.

He swallowed the lump in his throat as he looked down at her. His eyes examined her bare face. Red eyes, messy bangs, splotchy cheeks; evidence of her sadness. A rare reveal of a piece of her heart. It only made her more beautiful to him. "There's no protocol, Bones."

This didn't sit well with her. Rules, directions, criteria. They provided necessary structure. He watched as her brow furrowed and read the conflict on her face.

He ran a hand down her hair. "Bones?"

Her eyes met his again. "Yes?"

"Just stay."

"Okay."

He smiled at her immediate agreement as she nestled back into his chest. He reached down and pulled the covers haphazardly over them. He paid little attention beyond ensuring that he covered the pale skin of her bare feet and lower leg, where the hem of the pants she wore had slid upward.

"Booth?" she spoke again after a moment, her hand loosely fisting the material of his shirt. He didn't think she'd noticed she was doing it.

Obviously something else was troubling her, and he was glad that she remained comfortable enough to share it with him.

"Mm?" he prompted, hoping he didn't sound disinterested. He wanted to sound casual and relaxed, thinking it may make it easier for her to continue. He knew she found it difficult to be vulnerable and share her feelings and he prepared himself for the real possibility of her backing away or clamming up at any point.

But it didn't happen. She took a breath and spoke, "Please don't let him kill you." She said the words into his chest as a shiver crept over her. He pulled the covers higher, though he hadn't mistaken the shiver for anything but a reaction to the topic of conversation. Her eyes found his again. "It's an irrational request, for I know you would never choose to be killed and if such a situation arose, it would be beyond your control. But I find that I am anxious. And I can only attribute that to a concern for your safety."

"Bones..." he stalled for a couple of short seconds, choosing his words carefully. He didn't want to say anything that she could rebut, or make promises that he couldn't justify. "I do not plan to let him kill me, okay?" He paused then spoke again, "Or anyone else, for that matter. We've already lost one too many."

She let out a breath and swallowed a sob. She looked up at him. "I know you, Booth," she said with conviction. "I assume you are familiar with the biological mechanism known as the fight or flight response," she spoke and waited for him to nod. He nodded with a small smile, having come to love how she sometimes checked that he understood what she was saying. She continued, "Your brain is oriented to fight, Booth. But if the odds are piled against you, you need to choose flight. That is the rational choice. Okay? You can't let him kill you when we…." She trailed off. "You can't let him kill you."

He made direct eye contact, looking deep into her unblinking, shining blue eyes. "Flight it is, Bones. Flight it is. If the odds are stacked against me," he subtly corrected her misuse of the phrase with the hint of a smile, "I will choose flight."

She let out a grateful breath and relaxed into him again, seemingly satisfied with his response.

"Afterall," he continued. "I'm certainly not planning on going anywhere when we…" he deliberately stopped, waiting for her to meet his eyes.

She looked up at him instinctively, cursing the fact that he clearly had registered her earlier unfinished sentence.

He continued, "…when we haven't done this yet." His last word fell in the air a mere centimetre away from her lips. She hadn't even noticed him sliding down so their heads were level. With careful confidence, his warm lips gently pressed against her cold, dry ones. Her eyes closed and her breath caught. She hadn't expected this.

He loosened his hold on her, making up for the loss with the feel of her lips, not wanting her to feel overwhelmed or trapped. He held his lips softly against hers, more resting contentedly than kissing. He didn't want to rush or panic her. 'It's okay, Bones. Baby steps.' He thought to himself, seemingly saying it through the light touch of his lips.

When she didn't pull away, he slowly parted his lips and kissed her properly. The speed or force did not increase, even when he sensed she wouldn't object. This was enough for now. After a moment he slowly pulled away, noticing the way her eyes lingered shut and her lips remained parted ever so slightly. Her eyes only opened when his forehead rested against hers.

"We have already done that, Booth," she reminded almost shyly, her breath a soft touch on his face.

"Not like that, Bones," he spoke softly with sincerity. "Not in our own time. Not when it really meant something. Not when we're both on the same page."

"I am not familiar with that expression, but I believe I understand it's meaning. Though it is irrational for you to assume that I am on the same page as you."

"I know you Bones, remember? Daffodil, Daisy, Jupiter," he spoke the memory with a smile which she met fleetingly, before something that looked horrifyingly like guilt clouded over her face.

"What's wrong Bones?" he ran a hand over her hair again, not yet granting himself the honor of touching his fingertips to her face.

She spoke in a rush. "It's just… recently, I thought you'd forgotten," she said. "Forgotten that you knew me. Or rather, that you had forgotten the degree to which you knew me. The things you knew and understood that no one else did," she clarified. "Objectively, I understand that your focus was on learning about someone else, so it's only natural your attention would shift."

A cloud of guilt gust over his face and he tightened his hold on her again. "No, no, no, Bones… I never forgot. If anyone should be ashamed though, it's me. Because I did try to… I tried to move on, though only halfheartedly. But Bones, even if I had tried fully, it never would've been possible. My heart wouldn't have let me."

"Your heart does n–" she began.

He cut her off gently. "Bones," he spoke slowly. "Just believe me on this. Please?"

She sighed but relented with a nod, letting him have this one. Irrational as it was, she did like the sound of it. Feeling the pain in her temple resurface, she let her head rest once again on Booth's chest, carefully letting it fall in the exact same spot as it had been when she first collapsed in his arms that night.

Booth let out a long sigh and she tilted her head up and watched his tired eyes close. "You're not going to choose fight now, are you? Now that we have done that."

His eyes opened and he smiled warmly. It would have been accompanied with a laugh if she hadn't sounded so serious and looked so genuinely unsure.

"No Bones. No. That was not a goodbye kiss. The opposite, in fact. If that's okay with you." He couldn't help but place a quick kiss on the end of her nose. She didn't say anything but he saw something pass across her face. He wasn't sure what it was, but it was something good.

She understood his meaning, and smiled to herself, before looking up at Booth's warm brown eyes. "It is. Yes," she affirmed.

Booth was in awe. He let out an overjoyed breath, before letting a cheeky grin take over his features. "Besides, Bones, there are lots of things we have yet to do," he teased.

"If you are referring to sexual intercourse…"

"Bones." he stopped her with a slight groan. "I am referring to making love."

She nodded. "I have not experienced that," she admitted. "I find myself both nervous and eager at the prospect." He heard the anxiety and understood. It would change things for good, and he too was a little nervous about that.

"Soon, Bones. Not now, but soon," he promised.

She smiled and simply stared at him, scrutinizing his face in a precise way she had never taken the liberty to do before. "Do you believe that it is possible to speak to Vincent, Booth?"

He was surprised by the question, but knew she had her reasons. Bones never did anything without a reason. "I do, Bones. I do. I know it's not logical, but I need to believe it's possible."

"I wasn't going to say that, Booth," she spoke truthfully, not having taken offense. "I was just going to say, if you do talk to him, could you please tell him thank you?" He was momentarily confused but she continued immediately. "I'm feeling guilty that I am experiencing happiness so soon after his death. But it seems that his death served as the catalyst for this development between us."

He understood. "We've been on the way here forever, Bones. He just gave us the final push. I will definitely thank him for that," he kissed her forehead.

He noticed her brow remained furrowed despite the timid smile gracing her lips. "And Bones," he began again, "You can be happy about one thing and sad about another. Vincent knows you are sad that he couldn't stay. He knows you didn't want him to go. You told him so yourself, remember? But he would be glad to know that he caused something good."

"You mean us?" She checked she understood correctly.

"Yes, Bones," he laughed. "Us." And he pulled her closer as they stole the last few hours of darkness.