A/N: A little inspiration I gathered from the finale promo, I suppose.

This one wasn't supposed to go this way. I had completely different intentions but as I was writing it, the tone kept coming back to this. The story kept veering off to this. So, this is what it is. I hope you like it.

Set some time during season 8.

P.S. Please don't hate me ;)


So close no matter how far
Couldn't be much more from the heart
Forever trust in who we are
And nothing else matters

Metallica – Nothing Else Matters

Unexpectedly

The day had worn me down both physically and mentally. Saying I was exhausted would have been more than an understatement. After I put Christine down for the night I sat on the far end of the couch with my book Sex and Repression in Savage Society. After bending it a few times to keep the pages from flipping on me I settle a little deeper into the couch, ready to tackle the next chapter. As I'm about to begin reading I hear a faint whimper carry down the stairs and into the living room. I lift my eyes from my book and listen carefully wondering if Christine has decided she wants to play her favorite game tonight. After a few moments pass of me keeping my gaze fixed around the corner, ready to leap I ease back into the couch. Thankfully, it seems as though it was a false alarm and all is quiet again. Just as I return to my page I hear a loud clink that echoes through the halls, down the stairs and into my space. Booth removing his watch and throwing it onto the dresser. I sigh loud and hope he remembers that Christine was just put down and I hope even more that he tries a little harder to be quiet. Thud and about six seconds later another thud, even louder than the first. His shoes. I throw my head back into the cushion and roll my eyes with all the exaggeration I can muster. I stay just like that, even when I hear him shuffling down the stairs. He strolls into the living room, and I keep my look of annoyance plastered to my face and hope he notices. His shoes are off (that was established); his socks are off, he still has his pants and dress shirt on, though, he did remove his tie and the first few buttons of his shirt are undone and it's un-tucked from his pants. He pads over to the liquor cabinet and pulls out a glass and a bottle. He pulls open the lid and it makes that all familiar air sucking popping sound.

"What are you reading over there?" He asks, pouring himself a glass of scotch.

"You're really interested?" I say, finally letting my look of annoyance go only to let it seep through my tone instead.

He stills his eyes squinting to the tiniest little slits as he looks me over; he realizes something as he leans down into the cabinet and pulls out another glass.

"Is my Bones a little cranky this evening?" He asks, no longer staring me down. He pours a separate glass of scotch and walks towards the sitting area where I am and sits on the floor against the chair directly across from me. One leg straightened out against the carpet and one leg pulled up to prop his hand and the glass that it's holding against his knee. He hands me the other glass, leaning forward as much as he can to pass it to me. I accept the peace offering and take the glass from him without saying a word. I watch him just long enough to see him take a sip of his drink, his eyes staring me down (again) over the top of his glass. I go back to my page and read the first line of the chapter, again. Some time passes and I manage to make it about half way down the page before I hear his voice, again.

"Well aren't you going to drink that?" I bring my eyes up from my book and into his smirking face.

"Yes, Booth, I am." I grab the glass and take two huge gulps and swallow. I wince and hold my breath while I set the glass back down on the side table next to me. Though I try to fight it, I lose the battle and I cough. A lot. My eyes burn and they begin to water and when I finally take a few breaths of air after the whole ordeal I can hear him laughing. I just stare at him, not giving him the satisfaction of actually saying anything. He takes another sip of his drink and leans his head back on the seat of the recliner behind him.

"Truth or dare?"

"No, Booth." I say very seriously without looking up from my book.

He uses the floor to aid in cracking his toes. Disgusting

"Ok so… I'll go first," He says ignoring my previous statement, "truth."

After a moment of contemplating I flip my book closed and place it on the table next to my almost empty glass of scotch. "Fine." I say, completely annoyed and crossing my arms against my chest. I stare him down with what I believe to be most intimidating look.

"Is it true, Booth, that you know it drives me absolutely insane when you crack your knuckles, but you continue to do it anyway?"

"It is true that I know it drives you crazy, but I don't do it to purposely annoy you." He takes another sip, draining the glass completely. "Truth or dare?"

"Truth." I say confidently.

"Is it true that you are completely…. madly…. and deeply in love with me?"

"Booth…" I say on a sigh, forcing myself not to smile. He smiles at me anyway. He sets his glass down on the floor next to the chair and then rises to his knees. He crawls over to me and lays his head in my lap.

My hands move instinctively to his head and I push my fingers through his dark brown hair, it's thick and tries to resist my massage. "I'm sorry you had a rough day and I love you." He mumbles against my lap. My heart skips and I melt into the warmth of his words unable to resist his pull. "I love you too. Madly. Deeply." He moves his head from my lap and sits up on his knees completely and inches his way further between my legs. His arms come around my waist and I move closer towards the end of the couch. He moves a finger up and slips it under the collar of my t shirt and pulls it down just a little and moves his mouth to the exposed skin. He places just one wet kiss there before he moves his head back slowly, looking up into my eyes.

"What happens when the day comes that you get tired of me?"

His question catches me off guard and I'm not exactly sure how he means or how I should respond. After searching his face for a moment I decide to just go with answering honestly, the first words that come to my mind.

"You already tire me, Booth. Are you asking if one day that will be enough to make me leave you?"

"Yeah, that's what I'm asking."

"Are you joking?" I ask, leaning back from him so I can see his face better, try to understand him better.

"Would you marry me?" And I'm suddenly catapulted into realizing that he isn't actually joking. Booth is being very serious right now. How can someone do that so quickly? Go from joking to being completely serious within a matter of seconds.

"I would Booth…" I continue down the path of honesty. First words thought. First words out.

"Will you marry me?" He follows quickly not even giving me a chance to finish my sentence. His brown eyes sparkle expectantly and it's too much. This is just happening too fast.

My throat is dry as sand and so even though I want to say something to him, I cannot. I open my mouth and…nothing. I decide that I need to remove myself from the situation…that would be best. I move away from him, pushing him back a little as I get up from the couch and head towards the kitchen as fast as my legs will carry me. My heart is racing and fluttering in my throat demanding I release it from its confines. This. This is how it happens? Now. Why now? I stand against the counter of the island in the 's behind me but he doesn't touch me. I can smell him. I can feel him. "Bones…" I can hear him. His voice rattles around me causing my anxiety to heighten some but yet it comforts me all at the same time.

I continue to stand facing the counter and he talks to my back.

"Listen Bones, I'm so sorry… I don't- that's not the way this should go…" He places one tentative hand on my shoulder gently, but doesn't force me to turn around. "I'm so sorry… please..." He whispers into the back of my neck, his breath hot and just as comforting as his actual voice. Once my heart beat slows and stops thundering around inside me I finally turn to him. He looks tortured. I swallow away the fear in my throat and stand my ground, my eyes fixed on his. I knew I would need to face this one day. "It's ok, Booth." I reassure him, just wanting to take that pained look away from his face. I bring my hand up and cup his jaw. "I'm so sorry Bones." He moves his cheek against my hand, furthering the physical contact between us. "I'm such an idiot…"

"Shhh, you're not." I brush my lips against his. "You're not an idiot." I open my mouth. I kiss him harder. His arms encircle me and lift me onto one of the chairs in front of the counter. "I am," He mutters between kisses, "I'm so sorry." He says again while pushing his hands under my shirt. He's returning my passion kissing me like he wants to swallow my mouth. Pushing his hand under my shirt like everything he loves is just underneath of that cloth. I start on the buttons of his shirt. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you." I say, as I open the last of the buttons on his shirt. I squeeze his torso that is currently between my legs with my thighs and he pushes himself between me even further, somehow. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you too." He says, his voice weak with a mix of several different emotions.