Created October 2013 - I don't own these characters as made famous by the TV show, Bones. Love them anyway. All the rest that follows is my feeble attempt to keep time in between broadcasts and Razztaztic, Threesquares, and Covalent Bond postings.

A/N: October, 19, 2013. This story goes nowhere. It is simply a stream of consciousness about B&B's final night together before they get married. Quite honestly, this is me procrastinating from editing the next chapter of Collide.

It is dedicated to Bones fans everywhere, who are finding real life obstructed this weekend by the promise of Monday. And cheers to the creators, writers and directors who have contributed to a show that has made each of us irrationally happy, pissed, giddy, frustrated, and appreciative (sometimes all at the same time) over the past nine years.


Booth closed the door on the last of their guests. "OK, Bones! We. Are. In. Business!" Booth clapped, then rubbed his hands together, excited about their absence of formal plans for the evening. Turning back into the living room, he found his fiancée unzipping her top from along the left side of her torso.

"Whoa! Ho! Ho! Hold on there, Bones! What are you doing?" he rushed to her side to slow down her actions, turning her by the hips to face him.

She frowned at his halt. "Booth, you said that as soon as we got rid of everyone, that we could spend the rest of the day dancing naked through the house..." she pouted, obviously eager to initiate his promising suggestion.

He pressed his lips into an 'oh, Bones' smile as he wrapped her arms around his waist, then his to hers. "We've got all day, Bones. And all night, too." He began to rock them gently as she pulled closer into him. "I want to take it slow, okay? Enjoy us a little bit?" With a subtle arch of his brow, he knew that he had won her over.

He kissed the soft skin to the right of her eye, then nipped her right earlobe, and then buried his face into her hair to inhale the intoxicating scent of her. He grinned at the sound of her soft purr against his shoulder. "We never really get to slow down, you know? Just you and me, nothing to do for the next 18 some-odd hours, but be together…."

Brennan pulled slightly away from Booth to look him in the eyes. "It was very smart of you to suggest a catered brunch, it gives us more time together. And, I also appreciated Max's suggestion for Christine to have a sleepover with Michael Vincent this evening. I was afraid that Angela may have declined, due to all of the open tasks still to wrap up before the ceremony." She let her hand linger over his backside before removing the remote to the sound system from the back right pocket of his well-fitting jeans.

"No way that she's declining. Angela's waited years for this to happen. Nothing's going to stop her from getting us to the altar." He murmured into her hair, pressing absent minded kisses first to her hair, then down her neck as they continued to rock to no music.

The welcome light-headedness from Booth's actions caused Brennan to struggle momentarily before she was able to power on the music. "She is very excited" she chuckled before returning the remote back to Booth's pocket. She then allowed her hands to roam across the expansive muscles of his back as her mouth sought out his for a long-overdue kiss.

"Mmmmm, you were made for me, Bones. You know that, don't you?" he sighed as his massive hands traced her womanly curves.

"Of course not," she whispered, fighting to maintain some measure of logic in spite of her close proximity to her mate. She had not yet learned how to win that specific battle, and she was uncertain that she'd ever be willing to win. "But I do believe that we are well-matched for each other. And, I have come to realize that while we'll never be able to rationally quantify our mutual love –"

He interrupted, "I really like this skirt on you." He nuzzled his nose to her neck as his hands trailed down her rear, one surreptitiously tugging the tight black fabric up so that he could feel the back of her leg. "…very sexy scientist…"

Her legs gave way a little as she felt that familiar tug low in her belly. "I still have those glasses from our case on the flight to China…. Miss Utley – Charlotte - let me have Nadine's glasses in exchange for signed copies of my book. Oh! Ahhhhh" she cooed at the feel of his hands splayed against her exposed thighs.

He chuckled as he recalled the mystery novel aficionado and her somnolent companion. "Her friend Nadine slept through the entire flight. Had no idea what had gone on until it was time to deplane." His hands grazed her rear as his arms moved back around Brennan's waist; his hand now fiddling with the side zipper of her top as she pressed her cheek to his neck. "I haven't slept like that in decades." He sighed.

She hugged him tighter to offer comfort as they swayed. Against his shoulder, she mumbled "two more sleeps."

"Mmmmm?"

"Two more sleeps. That's what Marianne said before she left. We have two more sleeps until our marital status changes from betrothed to connubial."

This time it was Booth who pulled back to look at his best friend, amused by her circumvent of the phrases 'engaged' and 'married.' She was one of a kind.

He noted the music that had accompanied their dance – the OJays, now Earth Wind and Fire? "Bones, what are we listening to?"

Her eyes beamed, excited at his inquiry. "I made you a mixed tape, Booth! Well, a mixed playlist. I gathered a compilation of music that reminded me of you. It is heavily weighted with rhythm and blues music from the eighties and early nineties, as well as with songs from the disco era of the seventies. ….Given my observation of how amorous that this genre of music makes you, I thought this a suitable soundtrack for our afternoon and evening together."

He beamed with pride at her, certain that a specific BeeGees songs from Saturday Night Fever was absolutely on the playlist. "Awwww, Bones. That's awesome, Baby. I love it." He kissed her.

She smiled freely at his appreciation, eager to share more. "I also made you a playlist of Rat Pack inspired music – Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Louie Prima, early Harry Connick Jr… but that playlist's more for when you're cooking." She hummed, letting Booth lead, as they danced cheek to cheek to Chaka Khan's 'Ain't Nobody'.

Booth grinned like an idiot. He wondered about the journey that they had taken to get to this embrace, to be 'two more sleeps' to marriage. This woman, who once viciously swore to him that she would never work with him again – was in his arms - warm, happy and hopeful about becoming his wife.

Together, they had unlocked and opened her heart. For the millionth time, he stared into the ocean of her eyes, thinking about many parts of her that he never wanted to change.

Thinking about her earlier turn of phrase, he offered "Connubial, huh? We just can't be 'man and wife'?" he teased.

Her eyes softened at his smile. She loved his smile, and lifted her left hand to stroke his face; to touch the corner of a grin reserved solely for her. "Yes, but I would prefer it if we avoid terminology that implies that I am being given to you like property…."

He laughed at the concept as he took her left hand to swing her around in a flourish in sync with the music. She reciprocated with a giggle. "But you do belong to me, Bones. As much as I belong to you." The mirth in his eyes changed to seriousness. "I. Belong. To. You."

She examined the sincerity of his expression. Unable to verbally express the emotion that his declaration caused, she elected to simply show him. Brennan slipped both hands around Booth's neck, tugging his mouth forward. With the heels that she wore, their lips met straight on. She breathed in the scent of him as her tongue easily parted his waiting mouth. She stepped further into him, pressing her pelvis into his, one hand combing through his recent haircut, while the other slipped under his arm, around to his back, so that she could draw his chest further into hers as well. Booth countered the sweet taste of her tongue with his own, allowing her a brief draw of air while he sucked first at the top, then her bottom lip, before engaging again.

At the point where neither felt the will to stand, Brennan stepped back, stumbling slightly as she gestured to the couch for them to continue their osculation. Booth stayed in place, eyes closed, and his body both tense and relaxed by her oral assault. His mind raced with the recollection of their first kiss, the promise of "something" between them.

Again he felt the elation that – whether she never admitted it or did – she was his fate.

Opening his eyes – one, then the other – he scoped out the distance that his bride-to-be had veered from him. She stood by the sofa watching him, a lascivious side grin on her face, quite pleased that she, too, could exact the same type of "whammy" smooch on Booth that he could on her. She outstretched her hand for him, impatient to have him as close to her as possible.

He grinned goofily as he walked toward her. "So, you agree that you belong to me, Bones?" Taking her hand, he walked past her, and sat on the couch, pulling her down with him. She sat parallel to the cushion, her legs arched over his lap, his right hand combing through her hair.

She blushed. Only with Seeley Booth would she expose this vulnerability. "I suppose…I can acknowledge a mutual, irrational equivalence of possession between us." She played with the buttons on his shirt. "But," she arched her eyebrows at him. "That stays between us." She smirked conspiratorially. "To everyone else," she hummed "we are entering into an agreement of matrimony, resulting from mutual affection, commitment, and a desire to co-parent our child in a more traditional family structure."

"Ha!" he blurted, leaning into her while simultaneously pulling her into a reclined position. "Fine." They sealed their pact with another kiss. "But, you forgot our mutual, unyielding, insatiable physical attraction to each other."

She snorted. "While I agree with your addendum, you do realize that we were able to restrain our mutual, unyielding, insatiable physical attraction for years." She cupped his face, thumbs stroking the light stubble that the afternoon hour had brought.

"But that's true about all those other things too, Bones." He smiled. God, she loved his smile. He qualified his statement, "Except the Christine part. She's relatively new to the equation."

"Yes, that's true. Yes, she is," Brennan agreed, thoughtfully tracing the bones in her best friend's face. "I know that this sounds shallow, Booth, but I can't wait for you to see Christine in her flower girl's dress. She's quite beautiful."

He pushed her hair behind her ears on either side. "She comes from good stock, of course she'll be beautiful."

She smiled shyly, her hand again fingering his buttons as he hovered lovingly over her. "I like Marianne's haircut. It frames her face nicely."

Booth arched a brow at her subject change, but had to agree. "Uh yeah, Mom looks great. She looks happily married. Finally." He sighed.

Her lips pressed together, arching upward as she began to unbutton his shirt, needing to touch more of his skin. She was lost in thought.

"What, Baby? You're thinking about something…."

Always direct, Brennan found herself uneasy about the question that she had on her mind. She hoped her query would not upset the wonderful night that she irrationally hoped to have. The more vulnerability that she exposed to Booth also brought to light more areas of uncertainty that she had so long cloaked, and she had yet to find a suitable strategy to mitigate her feelings.

She searched her lover's face for the confidence. Slowly, she began, her eyebrow in a beseeching arch, "have you noticed the physical resemblance that I have to Marianne?"

His stroking of her hips came to a halt as his breath hitched. "What?" he swallowed.

She had committed herself to the inquiry. "Your mother and I….we share a preponderance of similar physical attributes." Against her will, she waited quietly for his response.

Booth stared at the mother of his daughter. While he initially thought she was purposely teasing him, he thought to himself 'no, this is Bones'. With respect, he considered her question. "Uh, ahh…. I guess. You both are beautiful, dark haired, amazing-eyed women. I would, without thought, die for both of you…."

Brennan added "physically, we are both well-endowed, well-formed for childbirth, and…"

Booth squeezed his eyes shut. "Stop. Bones, I plan on doing some very vulgar, dirty….naughty things to you - all night long, and I won't be able to do them if you're telling me that you think that I find you similar to my Mom."

She snickered. "Oh, you will do those vulgar-dirty-naughty things to me, Agent Booth" she affirmed, "my future husband" she sighed. "But, in some ways, I think that one of the reasons that you love me, is because I remind you of your mother." She continued her assault on the buttons of his shirt.

He looked at her with disbelief. "Have you been talking to Sweets?"

She rolled her eyes. "Angela says that all men marry their mothers. She told me that Hodgins' mother was as wild as Zelda Fitzgerald. She was the wife of F. Scott Fitzgerald, author of the Great Gatsby?"

Booth considered her words, as he renewed his stroking of her torso and hips. "Huh."

"What?" she inquired, her hands lovingly moving back to his face.

"I was never really able to protect my Mom." He mused. "She was this incredible, amazing, lively woman that my Dad basically silenced."

She now considered his words. "And you gave me back a voice." She offered pensively. "Metaphorically." She added.

He cleared his throat. "Bones….Temperance. I love you so much. I think of you, our partnership, Christine, our life together, all of it – as a blessing. So, I may want to protect you in some Sweets or Freud-inspired way that makes up for how my Dad Treated my Mom. But, you protect me right back. I've seen so many awful things, I've been the cause of so many terrible things." He nodded to affirm his words. "But you. You make me whole. You. Parker. Christine. You're my world. It has nothing to do with my Mom. It's you."

Brennan smiled broadly. "You make me whole, too, Booth. I love you." She drew him into a brief kiss. "And, as you're being so earnest, I must confess that there are elements of your personality that remind me of Max."

"Arrrrgh!" he groaned. "You really are trying to jam up my erection, aren't you, Babe?"

She chuckled. "You can call me Wife, but don't call me 'Babe'. And I really don't think that I have to worry about you being unable to perform." She teased, her hand examining evidence of her statement.


Brennan panted, using the seat of the dining room chair, and the effort of her elbow to sit herself up from the floor to recover from Round Five. "I find…." She puffed, "that I am quite enjoying this christening ceremony that you have suggested. Why! Haven't. We. Done this before?" she gasped.

Booth chuckled, sitting up to kiss her bare shoulder. "Remember, Bones? We initiated this room christening once, but you were so pregnant at the time that we tired out after two rooms, and then we got busy with Christine once she was born. And then…" he caught his breath. "There was all that other shit." Pelant was not going to be discussed tonight.

She ran her hands through her matted, sweaty locks; covering up with one of the throws borrowed from the living room. "There are eight more rooms, Booth. Perhaps we should nap?"

"No!" he protested. "Two more sleeps, Bones, that's it." He pressed his cheek to her bare shoulder. "We have to power through!" he cheered, voice cracking.

She laughed at his exhortation, knowing that he definitely needed some recuperation time. "Perhaps it would be a good time to consume some sustenance? The caterers prepared both snack and dinner plates."

Weakly, he hugged at her waist. "We're really filthy, sex-sticky, Bones. How about a shower first, then food? Or the tub! Ooh huh, those jets will feel so good right about now!"

She was sincerely impressed with his willpower. "Fine. Do you think you can make it up the stairs, Agent Booth?" she challenged as she stood up, she, too, feeling wobbly from their room-to-room lovemaking.

"Oh, Dr. Brennan…." He huffed, momentarily considering his ability to go up, then down, then up the stairs again. I'm up for it if you are…." He joined her in a naked lean against one of the dining room chairs.

She winced at his confidence. She knew that neither she nor he would enjoy what Booth had called an "around-the-world christening." She enjoyed sex with her partner very much. And, as competitive and ambitious that they both were, she did not want to finalize their last single hours together with some fruitless sex marathon. "Not at all" she confessed.

He laughed through his panting. "Oh God, I love you, Bones!" he slid back down onto the floor unceremoniously.

"No! Booth! Get back up!" she pleaded. "I'll grab the snack plates and meet you at the tub."

He considered her words thoughtfully, not yet moving. "Bring wine, too?" he puffed. "And, lotsa water?" He squeaked, loving in that moment the energy the five years that she was junior to him availed.

"Mmmmm-hmmm." She uttered, moving toward the kitchen in the nude. Hungrily he watched her.

"Hey. Bones. Remember when you first made me your mac and cheese?"

She continued forward, head turned back toward him. "Yes. You enjoyed it tremendously."

He pulled himself up again, also trying out nudity. "I watched you the whole time that you were in the kitchen, making it. Wishing you were naked."

She smiled. "That would explain all of your double entendres that evening. Well, everything happens eventually, I guess." She mused.

He watched her, admiring her curvaceous silhouette moving through the kitchen – their kitchen. She felt his loving eyes on her, and stopped. "Up!" she ordered. "Tub. Now!"

He watched the heave of her flushed bosom with her directive, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed.

"Booth…." She warned, smiling.

"I'm going! He acquiesced, heading up the stairs gingerly. She giggled at his exhaustion, proud that she was the sole reason for it.


He bit into another frozen green grape, thankful for his daughter's teething. "I don't know, Bones. It's a great idea, but she's pretty unpredictable…."

Brennan turned her body into Booth's, her hand high on his right hip as she looked at him. "He's begun puberty, Booth. I'm sure that Drew is a suitable subject of a respectable adult male, but he's not you. Rebecca has to realize the important role that you play on helping Parker evolve into the best young man he can be. Drew barely compares…."

"Thanks, Bones." He smiled sheepishly, pulling her to him for a quick kiss, the tub water lapping gently between their bodies. He sighed. "I just hope Rebecca is willing to let Parker stay with us for the whole summer."

She plotted their defense. "It's obvious how much he misses you, Booth. You miss him terribly, and, well – I miss him too." She frowned, and then offered. "We can propose it now, spend three weeks over Christmas in Europe and discuss it in person. And, she'll have seven months to get used to the idea…" she mused.

He grinned at her.

"What?" she laughed nervously.

"I love you, Bones, in an 'Attagirl' and every other kind of way." He let his wet hand stoke her cheek. She didn't seem to care.

"I love you too, Booth." She responded matter-of-factly, still occasionally confused as to all the reasons why he pledged his love to her. She offered him a crooked smile of omission. "I must confess, my desire for Parker to spend time with us is not wholly altruistic."

He raised his eyebrows, curious of her true intention. She continued, "Soon, Christine will be at a stage where she will be forming long-term memories. I want Parker to be present as much as possible during these crucial years of Christine's development." She frowned, adding quietly, "a little girl needs her big brother." She turned, leaning her back, back into Booth's chest.

Booth drew Brennan close, sighing. "Baby, you know if Russ and Amy could be here, they would be."

Brennan sighed, allowing a tear to escape. "I know." She offered softly, weakly. "I know it's irrational. He abandoned me, after all. But, since we've moved past that, it's important to me that he knows that I'm okay". She hugged closer into her fiancé. "That I'm happy."

"He knows, Bones." He whispered into her wet hair, and then kissed her forehead. "Hey, why don't we fly down to Carolina to see him, Amy and the girls before we head to England over Christmas?"

Silently, she shook her head against his neck. With one finger, he pulled her up by the chin to face him. "Bones, we can postpone the wedding if you…"

"No!" she recoiled at his suggestion. Booth raised his eyebrows in surprise. Her face betrayed guilt at her reaction, as she defended "October 21st is the anniversary of your one perfect day, Booth. It's been 33 years since that game, that day. Irrational or not, you deserve more perfect days. I want to create a connection between the happiness that you had on that day with your father, and who and where you are today."

He smiled at his pouting partner. "C'mere." He commanded, pulling her mouth to his. "Every day with you is perfect, Bones."

"You're being hyperbolic, Booth." She complained.

"But not excessively so." He bragged.

She returned his grin in their billionth staring contest. After some time she broke first, cautioning, "If we continue this, our skin opposite the corresponding nail beds will begin to swell." Booth raised his eyebrows in alarm. She laughed at his worrisome glance, and clarified "we'll will begin to prune."

He chuckled. "Right there! Right there, Bones – is why I'm the luckiest man alive."

Brennan frowned, again confused by Booth's assertion.


"We love you, Christine. Please be good for Aunt Angela and Uncle Hodgins, okay? Mommy and Daddy will see you tomorrow, okay? We love you very much! Can I please speak with Aunt Angela?"

Booth chuckled at his genius scientist having a conversation with their not-yet two-year old daughter. He was convinced that on the other end, Christine was more interested in the buttons on the phone than she was with Mommy's words. He sprawled out on top of their bed, glancing briefly at the clock – 7:44 PM – and all three of them were preparing for bed.

Hanging up the call, Brennan turned to the bed, very pleased by the site of her mate's very fine form in nothing but a brief pair of skull-covered black boxers. She glanced at the clock as well, noting that it was just a little more than a quarter to the hour of eight. "Really, Booth? In bed by 8:00?" she teased.

"Two more sleeps, Baby!" he waggled his eyebrows. He patted her side of the bed, motioning her to join him. "The faster that you come to bed, the faster that we can get our sleep on, and the closer you'll be to being my wife." He sang.

She smiled, turning off some of the lights in the room, leaving the light next to her bed on a dimmer setting. She was not convinced that their lovemaking for the evening was complete, and she thoroughly enjoyed watching his body in action.

"Angela is surprised that we stayed in." she finally spoke as she joined Booth on top of the bed. "I know that she was being partly facetious, but she suggested that perhaps we had rented adjoining hotel rooms, and hired escorts for each other with whom to have a penultimate 'nookie hurrahs'. Her words." She added, grabbing his hand to place on her thigh.

Booth cracked up at the thought of it. "Escorts, really? Apparently, you haven't shared with Angela how good we are together…." He bragged.

She was momentarily lost by his evasive terminology. "Oh! Do you mean sexually? No, not at all, I have been very forthcoming with how well that you satisfy me. Quite graphic, in fact…" she recalled.

"Bones!" he groaned, pulling a pillow over his head.

"What!?" she defended with a whine, pulling the pillow off him. "We still work on those parts of my novels together, we exchange ideas based upon personal experiences." She grinned. "She is very impressed by the diversity of our lovemaking. She assumed you'd be more…reserved."

Booth blew out a Brennan-esque deep breath, submitting to the fact that certain aspects of his relationship that not only belonged to him and Bones, but to Angela Montenegro as well. He thought about it for a while, before turning toward Brennan.

"Meh. I guess it stands to reason that she'd suggest it. She and Hodgins never really had a chance to have a last hurrah, you know? They hadn't planned on getting married, they just did it. Never had a chance to bucket list their single life, and wrap it up, you know? But unlike them, our single life has been over for a loooooooong time. Now, it's all about the life shared."

Brennan stared at her partner, allowing her hand to caress Booth's arm. "Is that why you didn't want to have bachelor/bachelorette parties?"

Booth's Admiral Akbar 'it's a trap' radar went up as he eyed his partner warily. "Uh, yeah. What's the point, you know?"

Brennan nodded slowly. "Yes, but it is a tradition, Booth. One last hurrah…." She mused.

His whole body tensed. "What are you saying, Bones?"

"That I want to fornicate with a male stripper? No, of course not. Thankfully, my sex life has evolved progressively from one lover to the next, to you. You are by-far, the best. I of course understand that it's because of my emotional commitment to you. But all of my former sexual relationships concluded to a natural end." She declared, eyeing Booth. "But perhaps, you would like to engage in coitus with another woman, one more time? As a well-formed alpha male, you've had quite a prodigious sexual history, Booth. It would be presumptuous of me to not offer you an opportunity to tie up some – metaphorical – loose ends…."

He could feel it coming. He winced. Three, two, one…

"Hannah, perhaps? Your relationship ended so abruptly. I'm certain that you expected to have sex with her again, given the last time that you two spoke, you expected her to accept your proposal…."

"Bones!" he whined, snatching back the pillow to rebury his face.

"Really, Booth. I'd be fine if you wanted to copulate with her once more. She's in town, I could call her…"

"What?!" he yelled, staring at his bride-to-be in disbelief. "Number one: noooooo! Number two: why do you know that Hannah's in town?"

Brennan stared at him blankly. "We had lunch on Tuesday. She's working on a special assignment. She gave us a wedding present…." Her lip curled slightly as she toiled at repressing a smirk.

"I could text her." She leaned into him, whispering huskily into his ear. "If you want, perhaps we can fulfill a fantasy that seems to be very popular among all heterosexual males. I've always found Hannah to be very alluring. I'm sure that I could give her back the wedding gift, and ask her if she'd participate in a threesome…"

"What!?" he choked. "Bones: no! Hannah's history. She doesn't compare. Neither does every other woman on this Earth! How could you not believe…?"

Finally, he detected a tell-tale quiver in her lips. "Oh shit. You're fucking with me! Oh, THANK GOD!" he laughed nervously, still slightly terrified.

Brennan buried her head into Booth's neck, trying to muffle a very nerd-like chortle. "Ha! I got you!" she triumphed. Feeling how tense her partner was against her, she looked up, frowning apologetically, still fighting a smirk. "I'm sorry, Booth."

"No, Bones. That was a good one, you had me going…" he panted.

"Yes. I am sorry to scare you, Booth." She patted his chest. "My intentions were solely prurient." She sucked a kiss to his neck. "I just love it when your voice gets all soft, weak and squeaky. I find it very arousing." Her hand traveled down his chest toward his boxers.

"Oh, okay!" He squeaked, still a little shook up, but nonetheless responsive as always to her touch.


The five AM alarm sounded, announcing the arrival of next morning. Neither partner moved, unwilling to release from their warm embrace, neither willing to release into a day where they would be more apart than together: a day that promised more friends and family to touch base with, dress rehearsal, rehearsal dinner, and a night spent apart.

Booth shifted slightly, giving Brennan the ability to pull his spooning body closer into her. Indulgently, he breathed her in. She smiled at his morning ritual - their ritual - as she brought his hands between her bosom. Eyes still closed, she kissed his knuckles, her fingers gently stroking the finger where she would soon place a ring on his finger.

"One more sleep," she mumbled.

"One more sleep," he returned.

The alarm continued to wail.