Sweets thinks that nothing can get better than this.

Daisy is nestled under his arm, her head leaning against his chest and her legs comfortably entwined with his He is laying down on the couch at his apartment, the TV in front of him on the eleven o' clock news. The latest case the Jeffersonian has solved is the top story, and Sweets can't help but grin as Dr. Brennan gives a very short summary of the how and whodunit.

"She's awesome," Daisy chirrups sleepily. It's storming outside and, although she was going to go home, Sweets insisted upon her staying until it had cleared up. Daisy hadn't needed too much persuasion. She snuggles closer to him.

"Totally," Sweets agrees, and he tightens the arm that is around her. He likes that he can do that. He likes a lot of things about this relationship.

The evening had started with a trip to the diner, where Angela and Hodgins were just leaving. There was a brief conversation, ending quickly, and then they'd shared fries and a milkshake.

It was after they'd spent at least a half hour laughing and almost ignoring their food that they'd gone back to Sweets' place for a little fooling around. Daisy had just been getting ready to go, hindered by Sweets' distracting kissing, when the bottom fell out of the sky. She'd turned back to him at the door with sparkling eyes, beaming and bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet, cheerfully supposing that she'd better stay until it cleared up. Now she was drowsing on his shoulder and he's never been so content.

"Can I move in with you?"

The question startles Sweets, as he thought she was asleep, but, after a beat, his face splits into a wide grin.

"Yeah." She shifts slightly so that she ends up closer to him. His heart is beating just below her cheek. "I'd like that."

"I love you, Lancelot," she says, and he can feel her smiling.

"Love you too," he replies, and kisses the top of her head. As a psychologist, he knows that this relationship is healthy, but as a young man who wants and needs a family more than anything else, he knows this relationship is the best thing that could have happened to him.

Thank God for rain.

XXX

Booth wants this moment to last forever.

Bones is just finishing up her TV interview while Booth watches from behind the camera. He has an excuse to stare, and he's taking it. It's not many times that he gets to look at his partner - really look at her - without prompting some remark from Caroline or Angela about having a "thing" for her.

But it's completely innocent now, and he feels no guilt in letting his eyes travel over her silky hair and cool, blue eyes. There aren't any lines being crossed by this. There aren't any rules being broken.

So his eyes trail over her, imagining many scenarios and many different paths he could take. He wants, very much so, to hold her and protect her and never let anything like Sully or Christine Brennan or Zach ever happen again. But he knows she'd never let him, and somehow this only makes him love her all the more.

She stops speaking and the camera stops rolling, and it's just as they're heading towards the parking lot that the clouds decide to bust open.

"Oh," Bones says, as the first heavy drops begin to pelt down at him, and although she doesn't say anything more, Booth can tell she doesn't want to get wet. He shoots her a grin, but she doesn't return it, probably doesn't even see it as her eyes are still squinting up at the ominously full thunderheads above them.

"I forgot my umbrella," he semi-apologizes, and she sighs. Booth can see the SUV - all the way down at the end of the parking lot. Damn. She walks quickly, but there's no doubt that within minutes she'll be soaked.

Suddenly struck by an idea, Booth pulls off his jacket. It's a nice one - had to put on the monkey suit for his own TV interview - and the rain will most likely ruin the silk. But instead of tucking it under his arm in the hopes of trying to save it, he holds it over Bones' head.

She glances up at it, surprised but pleased, and when she turns her head and smiles at him, he forgets about how much it's going to cost to get a new one. Lightning and thunder and a spark. Booth is getting drenched and the jacket is only minimal protection, and it's a lovely day.

"Thank you, Booth. That was very chivalrous of you," she teases him as they reach the car, and he can help but grin like an idiot right back. She's let him in just a bit further, just a little bit, but it's enough. Thank God for rain.

XXX

Hodgins is thanking his lucky stars.

Angela is stirring her coke with her straw, the ice cubes rattling around almost musically. She's smiling, a secret, sly smile, and he is glad the rain has forced them back inside.

"What are you thinking?" he asks her, and her eyes flick up to his, twinkling.

"I'm thinking I'd like more fries," she replies wryly. Hodgins grins. He always liked her insatiable appetite: for food, for love, for life.

"It's on me," he says, and when she opens her mouth to protest, he shakes his head firmly.

"I don't think that's how it works," she retorts, but her lips are still twisted in that Mona Lisa smile so he's not treading any dangerous waters.

"It would be rude to make the lady pay," Hodgins says stubbornly and, grinning, he flags down the waiter and orders for her. As the waiter leaves, Angela puts the straw to her lips and sips daintily. There is a comfortable silence, before Angela laughs.

"What?" Hodgins asks, and she shrugs her shoulders, putting a hand to her neck almost self-consciously.

"I'm just thinking that right now I might've been sitting at home, alone." She glances up at him and smiles. "Thanks for inviting me."

"No problem," Hodgins says honestly. He had thought she'd say no, but, as always, she'd surprised him. "Two's company, right?"

"Right," she says, and laughs again, louder this time. He still doesn't quite get what's funny about this, but whatever it is, it's good. For once this relationship isn't complicated or awkward, or one-sided, for that matter. They're acting like they used to and it's...good.

The waiter arrives again with Angela's fries, looking from a still smiling Angela to a quietly content Hodgins.

"Anything else for you two?" he asks.

"No," Hodgins answers, thinking of Mona Lisas and fries and thunderstorms. "I think we're good."

Thank God for rain.