A/N: hello everyone! So my muse ran away and I'm still not sure she's back but I managed to squeeze out this one-shot :) Thanks to GreyIsTheCatsPajamas because this story would not be posted if it wasn't for her :) If you feel inclined, leave a review! Maybe it will inspire my muse to return...
Minor spoilers for the finale, nothing that wasn't shown in the promo.
The Will in the Didn't
"Angela thinks we had sex."
In the past, a statement like that would have shocked him, make him blush furiously, and start stammering about anything, any other subject in the world. But after eight years, he didn't even flinch.
"She's right, Bones. We have had sex," he responded, his eyes still riveted to the Phillies game playing on the TV only half paying attention to the conversation, and his fingers absently tracing patterns on her shoulder as she sat next to her, perfectly curled into his side, his arm thrown across her shoulders. After all the excitement over the last few weeks, with Vincent's unfortunate death, the birth of baby Hodgins, and their second stint as Buck and Wanda Moosejaw, it was nice to have a quiet evening together. Maybe it was what Bones called his overly feminine side, but he loved this domestic stuff. Cooking dinner together, sharing the load of cleaning up, relaxing into the couch cushions and bickering over what to watch constituted a perfect evening for him. Well, nearly perfect anyway.
"I meant the night Vincent died," she replied. And suddenly, although his eyes were still fixed on the TV, his mind was completely focused on the woman sitting next to him. His instinctive need to protect her came back with a vengeance even though he knew they were safe in his apartment, the place they seemed to gravitate to since… well, since the night in question.
He didn't know how much time passed since the soft sobbing ceased and she quieted on his shoulder. All he knew was that he wouldn't let her go, even if Broadsky walked into his apartment right now, put a rifle against his forehead and demanded that he did.
He was shocked she was even here to begin with; here in his arms and here in his apartment. When he suggested (well, demanded) that she stay at his apartment tonight, he expected all the logical reasons why she would refuse. After all, Broadsky broke into his apartment before and as he knew, Broadsky was still targeting him. Now that he thought about it, she probably was safer anywhere else but here. But even at the thought at being separated from her tonight, he held her a little tighter. And because of her quick response to his statement, he had a feeling she decided he was more important than any of the logical reasons she came up with to go back to her own place.
Quickly, he snuck a glance at her face, feeling relief when she looked relaxed in sleep. He smirked slightly, feeling his own eyes grow heavy, as he thought of Bones' statement earlier: he did need his sleep to kill Broadsky, he reasoned.
"I am not impervious anymore," she said, and he felt her mumble the words against his chest more than heard them. His heart stopped for a moment and since she was laying right over it, he wondered if she noticed the skipped beat. But after a pronouncement like that, could she blame him? Not sure how much time passed, he felt her move and suddenly, she was propped up against his chest, her hair falling over her shoulder and her red-rimmed eyes staring into his and one arm on either side of his torso, trapping him in a position he would gladly never leave.
"Are you still angry?" she asked so hesitantly that it broke his heart. But she did not back down and continued to maintain eye contact with him, almost every inch of her body touching his. He couldn't help himself, running a hand through her hair as she continued to look down at him.
"No, Bones, I am not angry anymore," he replied softly, continuing to run his left hand through her hair as his right one rested on the side of her neck. He saw something pass through her clear blue eyes but it was gone the next moment. Silence consumed them for a moment as the implications of their statements weighed down upon them and simultaneously lifting a burden from both of them.
"Do you love me?" she asked after a moment, complete sincerity and curiosity in her eyes.
"Yeah," he said instantly, knowing any hesitation on his part would be construed as being untruthful. Allowing a small smile to cross his face at the relief in her eyes, his heart rate quickened as he still saw doubt lingering there. "Do you want me to prove it to you?" he asked before thinking about what proving it to her would entail. The statement had its intended effect though, as the doubt in her face disappeared, replaced with a small smile of her own and a light in her eyes he had not seen in a very long time.
In the next moment, before he could react, she captured his lips with her own, delicately but firmly engaging them in a kiss that spoke more of promise than passion. Tightening his grip on her a little more, he held her to him and they continued the kiss, neither quite believing that this moment was actually happening. When they broke apart, their gaze never wavered from the other, wanting to continue their moment for as long as possible.
"Not right now," she answered, not moving from her position sprawled over him. "As I said earlier, you need your sleep to kill Broadsky."
He chuckled softly as she resumed her previous position curled into his chest, her head resting over his heart. Kissing her forehead, his smile widened as he felt her mold herself to him. He wasn't one hundred percent sure, but he fairly certain they just agreed to try to be a couple.
After feeling her breathing even out, he sent a quick prayer up to Heaven, asking G-d to accept the atheist squintern into His loving embrace.
"Does that bother you?" he asked her, trying to figure out why she brought up the conversation in the first place without offending her in any way. He always seemed to say something wrong during this delicate process in past relationships so he felt it best to tread lightly.
"I guess not," she replied, not moving from her spot tucked in his side. "It is logical to assume that she would have figured out that we agreed to be a couple and thus assume we had sex but…" she trailed off, reaching for the hand not wrapped around her shoulders and began fiddling with his fingers. Ever since she linked arms with him when they gathered to give Vincent a proper send off, she touched him freely and without reservation, something that managed to make him every time it happened.
"But what?" he prompted softly.
"It just wouldn't have been right then. Does that make sense?" she asked, finally looking up at him. He just nodded at her and silently encouraged her to continue.
"Rebecca told me several years ago that there is a single moment where two people can either can catch fire or fade away and that the two of you missed your moment. That was our moment, Booth. And I did not want us to fade away, no matter what else was going on."
Unable to resist, he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her lips.
"You know, Bones," he said as they broke apart and took her hand, helping her stand up. "I think you are absolutely right. Now come on. Let's go to bed and see if we can't continue to catch fire."