Colors

by Dispatch22705

12 separate one shots: each one based on a color idea. All B&B.

3. Yellow

Hey! Welcome to 4 AM! You know it's so much quicker posting these chapters than it is writing them :)

--b&b--

When her mother died, she wasn't aware of it.

When her father died, she wasn't aware of anything else.

When she learned her mother was dead, there was so much work to do.

When she learned her father was dead, there was nothing that could be done.

When she buried her mother, the FBI sent condolences and a bouquet.

When she buried her father…Booth brought her daffodils.

--b&b--

"Brennan…" Angela's soft and encouraging voice lilted slightly over the sound of soft music playing through the café's speakers. "Sweetie…can you hear me?"

Brennan's fingertip traced over the pattern it had been following for days now. The card from Booth's flowers, unsigned, but still in his own handwriting. Five words. "Bones, I am so sorry."

That was all it said, but it was all that needed said. If she'd been thinking about it more, she would have imagined Booth standing at the florist's counter, shaking his head and insisting that he sign the card himself. He wasn't the type to say things with flowers, never had been. Yet still, the card was a lifeline for her, in a way she didn't quite understand.

But she blinked when Angela's fingers covered her own, and after blinking again twice more, she looked up to meet her friend's brown eyes. "Yes, Ange?"

To her credit, Angela didn't sigh or roll her eyes. She just smiled sadly and placed Brennan's hand back on the small table between them. "I think you need to get away for awhile.'

"Ange--" Brennan quickly interrupted in disagreement. "I…no, there…I have too much work to do."

"Sweetie" Angela repeated. "Look, it's not just me who thinks so. We can cover for you at the lab for a few weeks. Cam agrees; Hodgins has a place you can use, on the beach, and it's private and gorgeous, and even Booth thinks--"

"—Booth?" Brennan frowned. "Booth thinks I should go away?"

Angela was silent for a moment, not wanting to say the wrong thing. "Booth doesn't want you to go away, not…not like that, he just…he's worried about you." When Brennan bristled and stood up, gathering her notebook and pen, Angela sighed and stood up too, placing her hand on Brennan's arm. "We're all worried about you. Good worried. Grieving is natural. You know that; you're an anthropologist. It's got to be in the stages of something, right?"

Brennan paused, and Angela felt a small flicker of hope that her friend was at least thinking clearly, or at least in her usual clear thinking kind of way. "I suppose."

"Yes" Angela nodded, sensing an opening. "Just think about it, okay? Hodgins actually owns a small part of Cabo, and he has a place there. Brennan, it's so beautiful, and clear and private, and you'll love it. And…"

When she hesistated, Brennan did so as well, and then she spoke up. "And what, Ange?"

The artist's mouth curved up in a sheepish smile, "Well…" Angela reached into her coat pocket and pulled out an envelope. "Here's a plane ticket for tomorrow night."

"Angela!" Brennan sputtered, even as she lifted her hand as if she planned to accept. "Was this a set up?"

"I know, I know, it seems ridiculous, but trust me, sweetie, we just…we all love you, you know that, right?"

Brennan let her hand fall to her side, and for a long moment, her eyes seemed to settle on the floor. After a few minutes, she turned back to the table and finished gathering her things, carefully placing the small florist's card in her coat pocket before she turned back to Angela. She eyed the ticket warily, but then took it from Angela's hand.

Angela had the grace not to clap or squeal or sigh or anything like that. Instead, she just placed her arm in her friend's and walked her from the café to her car, not saying a word the entire time until Brennan asked, "What about Booth?"

Angela nodded. "He knows about the trip and he'll be back from his assignment when you get back. You could call him, sweetie."

Brennan's hand slid into her pocket and her finger scraped against the edge of the small card there. She didn't say anything, but just climbed into the passenger side of Angela's car.

--b&b—

"Bones…" Booth tried to force his eyes to open. "Hey…"

There was silence on the other end of the line, and he blinked, squinting toward the bedside table. It read 3:17 AM, but he wondered if he'd just imagined the ringing. "Bones? Are you there?"

"I'm here…" she answered, and her voice sounded tired. Not the 'just woke up, sleepy' tired, but the 'life is wearing me down' tired. Talk to me, baby. The affection warmed through his chest, and he had to force himself not to say anything out loud. She'd let him hug her, once, outside the hospital room after the doctors had told her about Max. And after the funeral, she'd gripped his elbow, so tight, using his leverage to stand up when it was over.

And although it had nearly killed him to leave her a week later, he'd had no choice; his current field assignment one that had been in the works for several months. He'd been gone for six days, and hadn't heard from her. In his heart, he'd known he'd needed to give her time and space. And on the surface, not everyone had agreed with him. Hell, even Sweets had told him he was crazy, that if he didn't prod Brennan to express her feelings, she'd bottle them up.

But Booth knew her.

And he knew that she'd come to him when she wanted to talk about it. And if she never did, then she never did. But it seemed that she wanted to at 3:17 AM. "Hey, Bones…what's up?" He used his elbows to push upward into a semi-sitting position. "Everything okay?"

"Yes…" he could hear the seriousness in her tone. Business only, it said.

"Okay…" he yawned. "Good to know."

"I…" she trailed off. "I might be taking some time off, for the next couple of weeks, Booth."

"Oh yeah?" he pretended not to know anything but secretly felt pleased that somehow Angela had managed to convince her. "Where to, a dig or something?"

There was a pause, and he wondered if she was considering lying to him. And then she sighed. "No…"

Booth felt his chest tighten as he waited for her to elaborate.

"It's a vacation of sorts, Booth. Angela recommended it. And while I don't necessarily see the need for it, I feel it might be smart to appease her."

"Hmmm…" Booth bit back a small smile, noting the way she grew more and more stubborn as she tried to downplay her own need for time off. "Good plan."

Brennan cleared her throat. "And I wanted to inform you, as a courtesy."

Booth sank back down against his pillows, enjoying the crisp and cool sheets the hotel provided. "Well, that's very kind of you, Bones. I appreciate that. I'll see you when you get back, I guess."

His eyes drooped shut and he felt his shoulders relax into the mattress. "I hope you have a great time, Bones" he murmured.

"Goodbye, Booth" he heard, and a soft smile curved up one side of his mouth. Once he heard the soft click of her phone being closed, he closed his own phone, setting it back on his bed stand.

--b&b—

Brennan hefted her bag onto the king sized bed and opened it up. She pulled out her clothes and placed them all into the closets and drawers. Angela hadn't been exaggerating; this place was quite luxurious. It was obvious to Brennan that a local staff had been paid to make the beach house welcoming and ready for her arrival, as she had fresh fruit in the kitchen and clean towels in the bathroom. Also in the bathroom was a sliding door out to a covered veranda, complete with a large whirlpool that over looked sandy private beaches and crystal clear water. A soft breeze swept over her warm skin and put her at ease. Brennan closed her eyes and felt the hair against her neck lift against the air all around her. Exhaling slowly, she concentrated on peaceful images. A slight frown creased over her forehead and she turned back into the house, walking from the bathroom area to her bedroom. Her reflection in the mirror gave her pause, and she could see that her eyes appeared tired. But they did not appear moist or red from crying.

There was one last item she wanted to unpack, and Brennan pulled the carefully wrapped package from her suitcase. She cut through the thin tissue paper and then smoothed it aside, gently lifting the daffodil petals back to life. Carrying the bouquet in her hands, she walked to the kitchen and found an empty wine bottle that would work as a vase. She filled it with water and then set the filled bottle on the nightstand near her bed.

Brennan sighed as she sat on the bed, lying down against the pillows there. Since her father had died, she'd felt very tired and as if her chest contained a vice. Not pain, as much as a deep pressure that wouldn't quite release.

And she hadn't cried. Not once. A part of her wondered if she was incapable of emotion, but the rest of her realized that holding herself to social mores was irrational. A slight feeling of wellbeing arose from her self-encouragement, and she closed her eyes, enjoying the sound of the waves on the nearby shoreline.

The consistency they provided lulled her into a soothing rest, and she let her hands fall to her sides, drifting off into sleep.

--b&b--

"You--" Booth barked, pointing with annoyance toward the FBI tech he'd been assigned on his field mission. The tech's eyebrow rose, as he slowly made his way toward Booth.

"Yes?" he asked, for what felt like the hundredth time. Normally Special Agents didn't really concern themselves with the techs, but this guy felt like he'd had to be at Booth's beck and call for days. And now…

"Where are all the evidence bags?" Booth asked, hands on his hips.

"Um, well…" he shrugged. "Over there, I guess."

Booth felt his blood pressure begin to rise. "Over there…you guess?" He shifted his weight forward, overshadowing the tech. "Is there potential for the evidence to be tampered with?"

"No…" the tech rolled his eyes and turned away.

"No…you know?" Booth snarled. "Or no, you guess?"

The tech didn't directly answer him, but Booth could hear him muttering "We know how much you hate having the remains compromised," as he walked away.

His left eye twitched, and Booth had to start reciting the names for the bones in the body to keep from pulling out his gun. Of course, he didn't know many, and he wanted to break a few bones in a few bodies…but other than that…it mostly helped.

Mostly.

--b&b--

Over the next few days, Brennan fell into a routine, as most humans do. She rose in the morning and made fresh orange juice, using the cool breeze on the beachside property to relax. Sometimes she read, sometimes she jotted down notes for her own book, and sometimes she just allowed herself to think. When she'd been younger, she'd done that more often, lain in bed…thinking. Or laying outside…thinking.

There were hardly rules to it, and she enjoyed the mental freedom and leisure at which to experience it. Booth wasn't standing near her saying 'chop chop, Bones…we need to catch this guy'. And her publisher wasn't calling every three hours asking for an update. No, after being in near solitude for an entire week, she'd been able to just…think.

More than one of her ex-boyfriends, at one point or another, had looked at her with disdain and said, "You think too much." But for Brennan, she didn't see how that was possible. There was always so much more to know, to consider. Mostly she thought about articles she wanted to research, and she thought about ways to become a better teacher.

But she also thought about her dad.

He'd been the one to teach her how to really think, how to hypothesize and research. And now, she could see that a lot of her professional career had been based on the seeds of scientific inquiry that Max had planted in her mind.

The vice-like sensation tightened in her chest, and Brennan frowned, peering into her bathroom mirror. Her eyes were wide, but dry. In her mind was the struggle between the considered societal norm of crying over the loss of a parent and the feeling of inadequacy she felt over being unable to cry. On the heels of that emotion was annoyance at feeling inadequate at anything…

Her reflection provided no answers, but only reminded her to put on sunscreen before heading out to the beach.

--b&b--

Brennan turned over onto her back, enjoying the heat of the air against her skin. The large umbrella kept the sun's rays from affecting her skin, but didn't diminish the cozy feeling she felt in her comfortably loose silk tunic. Almost overnight, she'd forgotten the way sand felt warm yet soothing when you sank your toes in as deep as you could, how the further down they went, the cooler the sand was, the contrast almost electric. She'd forgotten that the sound of waves on not so distant shores could lull you to sleep after only minutes.

The slight breeze seemed to still for a second, and then the wind shifted direction, an indication that change was imminent. Brennan opened her eyes to see if it looked like rain, and that's when she saw him.

He was far enough away that she couldn't make out every detail, but even if there had been a thousand people between them on the beach and she hadn't seen him for two years instead of two weeks, she still would have recognized the straight line of his shoulders, the way one hand was shoved into his pocket, while the other hand rested comfortably at his side, two shoes dangling from his fingertips.

As he moved closer, she noticed his feet were bare, and so were his legs below the knee. He was wearing a light tshirt and khaki shorts, something he rarely did. But it was still Booth.

In her reverie, she lost sight of his growing nearer, and then all of a sudden, he was standing beside her, his tall form perceptibly taller from her position on her back.

His eyes were kind and his lips curled up into a small smile as he opened the backpack he had and pulled out a rolled up towel. He straightened it out on the sand beside hers and then took a seat as if she'd been expecting him. When he laid on his side and placed a hand on her hip, gently pulling her toward him into a hug, she didn't protest.

Instead, Brennan placed a tentative hand on his chest and let her face settle next to it, the soft cotton of his shirt cool against her skin. He smelled good and nice and kind of spicy, and she closed her eyes, took a deep breath and began to softly cry.

Booth didn't say anything, but just wrapped his other arm around her and held her until she fell asleep.

--b&b—

Booth sensed the moment she started to wake up, and he shifted slightly, allowing her to pull back. Her eyes were soft and pretty, and his heart broke again, even as he barely managed to keep himself from leaning in to kiss her. The sun was nearly set, and the bright colored background it provided to her pale skin was more than any man should have to take. He settled for using his index finger to gently brush a bit of her hair behind her ear, pleased when she blushed slightly, but didn't turn away from his touch.

"What are you doing here, Booth?" she asked finally, and he tilted his head to the side.

"Well," he drawled, going for the humor, "Couldn't let you have this whole beach to yourself, now, could I? That hardly seems fair."

She smiled, and her eyes showed a hint of thankfulness for his tone. "I suppose not. But don't you have work to do?"

Booth squinted one eye, even as he sat up and then stood, pulling his partner up to stand near him. "Well, about that…"

He cupped her elbow in his palm and gently led her out to where the waterline lapped at the darker sand. "I sort of got forced by the FBI to take some time off."

Brennan paused, even as he took another step forward. "Did you shoot something?"

Booth turned and smiled. "No, but it was close. You see…" he grinned and retook hold of her arm, leading her further into the shallow water, enjoying the coolness against his toes. "It seems that I was quite annoyed at how the other agents handled their cases. Did you know they had the nerve to compromise the remains?"

Brennan's lips curved up into a smirk, even as she tilted her head in slight disbelief. "Are you saying that--"

"Yup" Booth nodded and shrugged, sliding his hands into his pockets, a sheepish grin on his face. "Turns out I care a lot about that. I guess I was so annoying to the other agents, well…they asked to have me removed from the cases." His grin grew a tiny bit wider, and he shook his head. "Who'd have thought, yeah, Bones?"

"Indeed," she murmured, turning to face the sunset. She wasn't prepared to analyze it, but there was a distinct settling in her being, now that Booth was present with her. Even though she hadn't recognized a loss of his presence, having it restored to her created a sensation of completeness that was hard to label. "How did you find me?" she asked without turning around.

"Easy, Bones" Booth answered. "FBI."

Brennan rolled her eyes and turned to face him, only to find that he had stepped closer to her and was now very near, his dark eyes just a fraction higher than hers, but enough that she had to tilt her neck ever so slightly to maintain the connection. "How did you find me?"

Booth's lips curled into a small smile, and his left dimple grew more pronounced. "I received a plane ticket and set of instructions from a certain entomologist and a goodbye hug from a certain artist, and when my plane landed, I was met by a man holding a sign with my name on it. And last time I checked, there weren't too many Seeley Booths in the world."

Brennan inhaled slightly, the scent of salt and spice and cotton and night surrounding them. "No, no there aren't."

"So…that man had a very nice limousine, and he drove me here. Well…" Booth shrugged and then turned back and lifted his hand to point to the beach house. "There, and then…I looked around and found you. It wasn't too hard; you were the only other person on the entire beach, so…"

Brennan chuckled and resisted the urge to place her hand on his chest again. Even though they were standing very close, she still felt an irrational desire to be even closer.

--b&b—

Booth's heart felt as light as the breeze sweeping over them. Maybe it was because they were alone, really alone, but he'd never felt so at ease around her. There was an honesty to her being here, and his joining her only added to it. That she'd been happy to see him made him very happy. That he'd touched her immediately had gone against his entire plan. And the fact that she'd touched him back and curled up against him and fell asleep made him realize that plans were dumb.

"How is everyone at the lab?" she was asking, and he looked down at her face. He wasn't going to tell her this, but she looked very cute with her hair in a sloppy ponytail and a slight sunburn on her nose.

"Actually" he began. "They--"

"I don't want people worried about me." She interrupted, a frown forming on her face.

Booth shifted his weight and looked out toward the water. "Well…" he considered his words, not wanting to upset her. The truth was that everyone was worried about her. "They really miss you," he settled with.

"Oh," she grew silent. "I see."

The sounds of waves breaking slid between them, and Booth could feel her eyes on him.

"What about you?" she asked quietly.

Booth bit his bottom lip and looked at her from the corner of his eye. "I'm here, aren't I?"

Brennan blinked and then nodded. "Yes. Yes, you are."

Booth met her eyes then, and smiled. A yawn escaped from his lips, and he stretched his arms over his head, the effects of his travel and long week catching up to him "Come on…" he motioned for the beach house. "Why don't we go back inside and you can show me all the cool rich person stuff Hodgins has here."

Brennan smiled in spite of herself and tried not to stare at the sliver of skin from his belly as he'd lifted his arms. Instead, she leaned over and gathered her towel, shaking the sand from it and turning to walk toward the house. "Are you coming?" she looked over her shoulder when she realized Booth wasn't beside her.

His eyes had traveled over her body, as if just noticing for the first time she was in her bathing suit. A slightly guilty look crossed over his eyes, and then he blinked, bending over to grab his own towel as he jogged after her.

It was slightly awkward inside the house, as Brennan handed them each a beer and told Booth to make himself comfortable. He followed her around while she showed him each room, and when she asked if he was tired, he shrugged.

"I mean…I guess."

She just held up a hand. "Then go to bed. I'll see you in the morning."

There was another awkward moment, as they stood there. Booth resisted the urge to pull her into a hug, but didn't see any harm in leaning down to press a soft kiss against her cheek. "Sweet dreams, Bones" he murmured before pulling back and turning to walk to his bedroom.

Brennan pressed two fingers to her cheek as she watched him go.

--b&b--

A few hours later…

Booth could tell she was standing in his doorway. He'd known the second she'd arrived. But what he didn't know, what he couldn't tell, was whether or not she wanted him to know. So he remained on his side, away from her, pretending to be asleep. This lasted for several minutes. Minutes where he tried to keep his breath even, minutes where he felt her eyes on his back, minutes where he wondered what she was thinking, whether he'd done the right thing by coming down her to be with her.

And then all time stopped when he felt the mattress shift slightly. And then the sheet was lifted, and he felt her body pressed up against his back. Her fingers rested lightly against his skin, and her knees rested against the backs of his. It took all of his strength not to turn, not to stir, not to make a sound. He sensed she wanted him to be asleep, and for as long as she stayed silent, he would as well.

Brennan wasn't sure what had made her take that tiny step from the hallway into Booth's bedroom, but once she did, she couldn't seem to stop until she was resting behind him, her hands proving to her eyes and mind that he was really, physically there. The evidence of his strong back soothed her thoughts, and the soft cotton of her nightgown brushed gently against the dark fabric of his boxer shorts. For a small second, she thought he might wake up, thought she might have heard his breathing hitch just once, but when he didn't speak or turn around, she was sure she'd just imagined it. It wasn't rational, but she'd just needed to be near him, needed to be with someone alive.

Booth laid still until he heard the sound of her breathing shift into a measured cadence. Only then did he gently roll to his back, letting his arm closest to Brennan lift into the air before settling around her shoulders, pulling her to his side. She might resent it in the morning, but he'd traveled thousands of miles to be near her, and he was going to be as near to her as he could. Nothing had ever felt as good as the way the strands of her hair rested lightly against his bare chest. He stared at the ceiling, letting his thoughts center on her, on his beautiful and heartwounded partner. He thought of her until his own eyes closed and he drifted to sleep.

--b&b—

The next morning, Booth woke up alone, and felt a moment of fear. But when he padded in his bare feet and saw Brennan in the kitchen, squeezing oranges for juice, he relaxed. Her hair was messy and her eyes were squinty and sleepy, and he scratched his stomach and cleared his throat.

"Hey…"

She looked up quickly and blinked at his appearance, but then just smiled softly. "Good morning."

And that was that. Not awkward, not uncomfortable, no denial…just soft smiles and fresh orange juice and contentment.

It continued for the next three days. They settled into a routine of relaxing. She still worked on her book while he went for a run, and sometimes they talked, and sometimes they just slept on the beach or swam. And they talked. They talked about the case Booth had been working on; they talked about Max; they talked about Russ and then they talked about Jared; they talked about Parker. They just talked.

"I know it is somewhat irrational, since I'm over thirty years old" she confessed over lunch one day. "But I kind of feel like an orphan again."

"Nah, Bones…" Booth leaned back in his chair and folded his napkin. "It's not irrational. It doesn't matter how old you are when your parents die, when they are gone, that makes you an orphan." He grew serious, and looked away for a moment. "And…it doesn't matter how independent you are, there's always that feeling that your parents are supposed to take care of you, and so…it's like, there's no one in the world whose job it is to take care of you anymore."

Brennan looked at him, but because their waiter came to take their bill, she didn't reply. And as they walked back along the beach, she considered his words. And she considered Booth.

Booth resisted the urge to wrap his arm around her waist."Do you want to go for a swim?" he asked.

Brennan shielded her eyes from the sun. "Sure. I'll have to put some more sunscreen on, though. Would you…" she placed a hand on his arm. "Would you consider helping me with that? I don't want to get burnt on my back."

"Hmmm…" Booth rubbed his chin and pretended he needed to think about it. "I suppose I could consider that."

"Thank you," Brennan nodded seriously, missing his tone. "And I'll return the favor, as that would only be fair."

They'd reached the front door of the beach house, and Booth held it open, looking at his partner's face as she walked under his arm to enter in front of him. "Sure, sure." He agreed. "Sounds fair to me."

His hands began to heat up with just the anticipation of being able to touch her, and he moved quickly to his bedroom to change into his swim trunks. As he sat on the edge of the unmade bed and pulled them on, he noticed that his two pillows both still seemed to recognize the indentations from the way they'd slept the past few nights.

Whenever he'd thought about them being together, really together, in life and work and play and bed and all of that, he'd always imagined that it would be kind of tough at first, but that soon they'd just fit. And he'd never had a woman fit in his arms like she did. From the first moment he'd ever hugged her, it was like becoming complete. He knew she'd dislike that metaphor, and it wasn't like he was some sap who couldn't function in life without a woman, but still…feeling her next to him every night, hearing the soft rise and fall of her breath as she slept, beginning to recognize the instant she fell asleep…all of those intimacies were wrapping his heart into both confusion and a feeling of absolute rightness.

Booth pulled in a deep breath and stood, searching around his room for his sandals. He slid his feet into them and walked out to the kitchen to see the front door already open, and Bones walking down toward the sand.

He stood for a moment, admiring her body. Damn, she was fine. And as much as he wanted to live with her and laugh with her and comfort her and all of that…he just plain wanted her.

As if she knew he was looking at her, she turned, smiling over her shoulder. She wasn't teasing, but her eyes were questioning.

"Are you coming, Booth?" she called.

Booth grinned and shut the door behind him. "You betcha, Bones."

--b&b--

Brennan opened her towel on the sand and then set her beach bag next to it. She squinted toward Booth, and as he walked closer, she saw his stomach muscles working with each step. It was getting harder and harder each night to crawl into his bed and not touch him, to not wake him up. Every night, she wondered if he was really asleep, and every night, she felt thankful that he either was or acted like he was, and also disappointed that somehow, he might not know she was there. But each morning, she woke up before him and usually his arms were around her. Those moments were incredibly intimate for her. It had been a long time since she'd had sex with a man, and she'd never shared a bed with a man without sex, except with Booth. He was the only man she'd ever only slept with.

She watched as he rolled out his towel next to hers and watched as he sat down on it. He wrapped his arms around his knees and leaned forward and then turned to her with a smile. "I'll cover your back if you'll cover mine."

Brennan felt a warm blush creep up her cheeks, and blamed it on the sunshine. "Very rational." With a quick nod, she pulled her bottle of sunscreen out of her beach bag and poured some into her hands, rubbing them together. "Ready?"

"Um…" Booth shivered in anticipation and then looked down, "Yeah, I'm ready."

Brennan knelt behind him, her knees and thighs slightly straddling his back as she placed her palms flat against his bare back. Rotating in gentle circles, she stroked his skin, spreading the warm smelling lotion over him. Booth groaned and lowered his legs, leaning forward so she could work his lower back. Feeling kind of joking, Brennan surprised him by squirting more lotion near the back of his neck, and she laughed at him when he arched back and gasped. "Ah, cold."

"Relax, Booth…" she soothed and began spreading the lotion over his shoulders and arms.

As she worked, Booth turned his head, and their eyes met for a moment. Brennan's breath stopped at the nearly glazed look in his eyes and the set of his jaw. She understood that he was being slightly aroused by her touch. That wasn't surprising; he was a man, and their positions were somewhat sexual. But what did surprise her was the underlying affection she saw in his eyes. It had been there all week, but seeing it now, in combination with desire, sped up her pulse.

"Um…" she cleared her throat and backed away, working again on his back and up to his neck. Trying to think of something else, to say, she blinked. "I…um…I was wondering," her hands glided and pressed up his spine. "I was wondering if you had heard from anyone…back at the lab."

Booth leaned back into her touch and then rolled his shoulders back when she took her hands away. He looked at her and then held out his hand for the lotion. She eyed him for a moment and then gave it to him, moving to her own towel and laying flat on her front for him.

He knelt at her feet, even though he was facing the soles of them. Pouring lotion into his hands, he stared up the long lengths of her legs. "No…" he murmured as he began at her ankles and worked his way up each leg. "No, I haven't heard anything. From anyone." Booth concentrated on making sure that he covered her legs and back, and where her bikini top covered her skin, he slid his fingers underneath, gently rubbing the lotion to make sure she didn't get sunburned there. Her skin was so gorgeous and pale and delicate, and he hated the idea of her feeling any pain at all. Protecting her was something he'd taken seriously from the moment he'd met her, and now was no different. And that was why he knew it was important for him to put his desire on hold. He didn't need to push that onto her as well, no matter what her eyes said, no matter how many times her hips almost imperceptibly rubbed against her towel, and no matter how many times she crawled into his bed at night.

"All set, Bones" he gruffed out, and then cleared his throat, surprised to find his mouth so dry. She turned over and looked so sleepy and sexy that honest to God, it took all of his strength not to lay down with her, kiss her and pull her as close as humanly possible. Instead, he just poured more lotion into his hands and rubbed it over his chest and arms, trying not to notice the way she examined his every move. When he was done, his heart was racing as if she'd been the one to touch him all over, and he handed her the bottle. "I'm going to head on in," he pointed to the water. "I'll see you in a bit."

It was either that or watch her spread lotion on her chest and stomach. And Booth wasn't sure he could take that.

He walked out into the water and then dove headfirst, cooling off his body and libido. But when he heard a splash behind him, nothing felt cool.

He watched as Brennan made her way out toward him, and when she was close, she leaned back and floated the rest of the way, a smile on her face. "You look like you're having a good time, Bones."

"I am" she admitted, moving to tread water near him.

He liked the way her eyes seemed bluer when her hair was wet and slicked back from her face.

"I was hesitant about taking time off, but now I'm glad I did. Not that I needed it necessarily. I find that grieving can be somewhat counterproductive to life, and--"

"What?" Booth chuckled, swimming around her. He splashed her a little and smiled when she turned and followed his movements. "Grieving is not counterproductive, Dr. Brennan," he mocked. "I'm sure it's a stage to something, right? Some sort of anthropological inevitability."

Brennan's eyes narrowed, and she turned as if she was going to swim away.

"Aw, come on, Bones…" Booth called. "I was just… AH!" he sputtered through an open mouth full of water when she turned and splashed him with all her might. "Oh, it is so on, Bones."

Brennan bit her lip as a rush of excitement coursed over her body. It was a chase, and she knew Booth would be a worthy opponent. She eyed a nearby dock and then gave Booth a challenging smile before starting to swim as fast as she could. She had no idea if he was even behind her, if he had accepted her challenge, but she wasn't going to stop to find out.

She used her arms and legs, pulling on years of strength training to push her. And as she reached the dock, she latched onto it, pulling herself up, only to see Booth already sitting and waiting for her. "No!" she complained.

He laughed and hopped off the dock, grabbing her by the waist, laughing again when she tried to shove him away.

"Damn it, Booth."

"Ah, Bones…" he tapped her on the nose and wrapped an arm around her, playfully pulling her flush against him. "Don't be such a sore loser."

She opened her mouth to reply, but then was all of a sudden aware that she was pressed against Booth from thighs to chest. His arm was around her waist, and his other arm rested on the dock, keeping them afloat. Her eyes could not stop tracking drops of water from his hair to his neck and chest, and she was mesmerized by the way they curled over his shoulders and dropped to the water. "When do you have to leave?"

The question slipped out before she could think about it, but once it was out there, she realized she'd instinctively known that he couldn't stay much longer.

She looked at his face and saw that his eyes were focused on her mouth. Her lips parted in anticipation, and then he met her eyes, surprised.

"I, um…" his arm tightened around her waist. "I leave tomorrow…in the afternoon. I…" he frowned. "I'm sorry I can't stay longer, but I have to get back."

"No, no…" her fingers rested on his shoulders for support. "I understand. Do you have Parker for the weekend?"

"Yeah," he murmured.

"Well…" she swallowed, her voice little more than a whisper itself. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

His nostrils flared and one side of his mouth curve up in a small smile. "I'll always worry about you, Bones. Nothing's ever going to change that."

She blinked and then closed her eyes in pain and pleasure when he pressed his lips to her forehead in a soft kiss.

"Want to race back?" he asked, leaning back to meet her eyes.

"No…" she turned away, wiping at her eyes but trying to make it seem that it was only water and not tears. "I'd rather relax."

Booth knew she needed a bit of space, and he knew he could really use some space, so he shrugged and let his arm fall to his side, pushing off from the dock to float easily on his back. "That works."

Brennan matched his position, but didn't really meet his eyes. "And I think I'll spend the afternoon working on my book, if you don't mind."

Translation-stay away, Booth realized. "Yeah, no. I don't mind. Not at all, Bones. I'll just go for a run and probably just relax outside. And then…" he grinned, and she couldn't help but smile in response. "Then I'll make us dinner. Just you wait, Bones."

The earlier more intense mood was softened, and Brennan chuckled at his cocky tone. "I suppose."

"You suppose!" Booth scoffed. "Well…" he splashed a little bit of water toward her, and then ducked under the surface when she tried to splash him.

"Missed me" he grinned.

"Well, you're still all wet" she challenged and began swimming to shore.

Booth watched her, admiring her form. With a deep sigh, he swam after her.

--b&b--

Several hours later, Brennan entered the kitchen, a surprised look on her face. "Wow, Booth. It smells amazing in here."

He turned and gave her such a genuinely pleased smile that she couldn't help but feel rewarded, just for complimenting him.

"Thanks, Bones. Now wait till you taste it." He lifted the sauce spoon and held it for her, if she wanted. Feeling slightly nervous, she bit her bottom lip and then leaned forward, letting him dip the spoon into her mouth. A gasp left her lips, and his eyes turned serious.

"Too hot?"

"No…" she breathed, licking her lips. "Perfect. I don't like to use that word, especially when there are variables concerned, but…"

She eyed him with surprise. "You are a very good cook, Booth."

"Aw…" he blushed. "Well…" a satisfied smile crossed over his lips as he turned back to the stove and hitched a towel over his shoulder. "I do what I can."

"Very impressive" she encouraged and then turned to see that he'd set the table already. "Where did you find those candles?"

Booth looked at her with a surprised smile. "You mean, you haven't seen…"

When she didn't answer, he tilted his head in suspicion. "Oh, well…" he cleared his throat. "I guess this is mostly, you know… a romantic destination spot, so let's just say that around the whole house are little…conveniences. Things to increase the right mood."

"I see…"

Booth blushed again. "Not that I'm trying to set any particular mood or anything. I just thought candles might be nice."

Letting him off the hook, she nodded. "They are nice. I'll light them."

"Go ahead, Bones" he smiled and then began getting the food ready to serve.

Once they were done eating, Booth took her hand and then pulled her out onto the back deck. He flicked a switch and then music was playing softly through hidden speakers. Brennan looked at him in surprise, but he just smiled and pulled her into his arms, swaying softly to the music.

"How's your book coming?" he asked.

Brennan relaxed against him. "It's going well. I'm glad I worked on it today, actually."

"I'm glad you're glad" was all he said.

Brennan rested her hands against his chest, and her cheek against his shoulder, breathing in his masculine aftershave, combined with some of the spices he'd used for dinner.

"This is nice," she murmured, and Booth chuckled in approval.

She felt that roll from his chest against hers, and her fingers tightened against him.

"Definitely nice" he agreed. "Makes me wonder why we've never taken a vacation together."

Brennan tilted her head back to meet his eyes and blinked. "I just assumed you didn't want to be around me when you are on vacation."

His lips softened and he just stared at her, his tanned face a contrast to the lightweight white button up shirt he had on. "Well, I like being around you, Bones."

She pulled in a deep breath and then nodded, her eyes on the skin revealed to her by the way his top two buttons were undone. "I like being around you too, Booth."

His lips curved up at her acceptance and he pulled her close again as another song slipped through the air.

Brennan resisted for a moment, but then pressed her face to his shoulder. Her hands smoothed against his back as they hugged one another and gently swayed to the music. He was so strong. So good. So…there for her.

He was the only man she really trusted, and she relaxed even further against him.

--b&b--

Booth pulled in a deep breath and stood as still as he could, keeping everything as steady as possible.

Dirty dishes were piled in the sink, his empty suitcase needed packed, but he wasn't about to move a muscle, not as long as she was in his arms. Song after song swept over them, and after awhile, he thought maybe she'd fallen asleep, she was so silent, and so dependent on him.

"What are you thinking about, Bones?" he murmured, not wanting to wake her up if she had fallen asleep.

"Parker" she admitted, and Booth pulled back. He could not have been more surprised by her answer.

"Parker?" he blinked. "What about him?"

Her fingertips skated over the strong line of his shoulders. "I was…" she met his eyes nervously. "I was just thinking that I know how he'll feel. When you die."

"Bones!" Booth gasped, going stiff.

"When he's alone," she continued, her eyes wide with pain. "I was just thinking that you're a really good father, and that when you die, he'll be really sad, and right now, I understand that…"

"Bones!" he hissed, pulling back from her and turning away. "Jeez! Don't talk like that! What is wrong with you?"

Brennan was shocked into silence, and then she closed up, looking down to her hands before raising her eyes to meet his, her emotion gone in place of a masked indifference.

"Bones…" Booth groaned, cupping the back of his neck. "Look, I didn't mean…"

"It's okay, Booth" she turned and began walking away.

But he grabbed her arm and whirled her around, forcing her to meet his eyes. Brennan bit back a gasp at the emotion she saw in his gaze.

"I'm sorry." He told her. "I'm sorry, Bones. I didn't mean that. I just…hell, I overreacted. But…I…" his jaw tightened, even as he released her arm from his grasp. "I don't like to think about that. I don't want Parker to be sad…I…"

His hand cupped her face, and Brennan bit her lip when he leaned in close to her, pressing his forehead to hers. "I don't want you to be sad, Bones. If Parker's sad, if you're sad, then that means I've failed."

"Booth…" Brennan shook her head. "You can't control…"

"No, Bones" he interrupted. "That's what it's like. And…" he paused, knowing what she was thinking. "And Max felt that same way about you. I know he did, Bones. He loved you."

Her brow furrowed, and she pressed her hands to his chest, pushing away slightly.

They both stood in silence, Booth's eyes pinned to her face, and her gaze on the floor. Then her chin jutted out and she met his eyes, "I'm going to go to bed."

Booth nodded. "Okay." He felt disappointed in himself at how he'd handled that conversation, but he knew that talking more about it would make it worse. "Goodnight, Bones."

She nodded and then stepped past him and walked to her bedroom, closing the door behind her.

Booth stood and stared in that direction for a long time before walking back to the kitchen, filling the sink with hot water.

--b&b--

That night, he tossed and turned in his bed for two reasons. One, the conversation they'd had, and the hurt look in her eyes, and two, because of the fact that she'd yet to come to his bed.

Brennan laid on her back and stared at the ceiling, her mind whirling with thoughts and emotions. She felt torn inside and annoyed with herself, but all she could do was try to control her feelings as image after image of her mom and dad flickered in her mind. She remembered laying on the couch and watching her dad come into the house. He always set his shoes right next to her mom's near the front door. And then he'd come into the living room and kiss her on the forehead and call out for Russ and then walk into the kitchen. And Brennan remembered sneaking glances at him, feeling embarrassed and confused, but always also happy when she'd see her dad slide his arms around her mom and kiss her neck.

They were happy, and now she was so sad. And she felt so alone, even though she'd been alone for years. Her chest hurt with held back sobs, and then she let go, pressing her face to her pillow and crying.

Booth heard sounds coming from her room and he quickly slid from his bed, pausing with his hand on the door when he heard her sobs. What felt like an invisible wall was in front of him, and he could hardly move, feeling inadequate to help her. He'd completely messed up before, making her feel bad about her feelings, and it was no wonder she didn't want to be around him. But just as he was about to turn and leave, he saw yellow on her nightstand. His chest grew tight as he recognized the daffodils he'd brought to her for Max's funeral. Seeing it as a sign, he stepped forward, and then another step until he was near her bed.

Hoping not to scare her, he gently pulled back the sheets and crawled in behind her, molding his body to hers, just as she had done every night previous. She didn't reply, but her body relaxed completely against his, her way of showing acceptance.

She'd never touched him, but he couldn't help resting one of his palms against her hip, rubbing gently, hoping to soothe her.

Her breathing was rough, and she pressed her face into her pillow, away from him.

His fingertips rubbed against the silk of her summer nightgown, the material so soft and warm under his hand. Her skin was freckled from their time outside and he could see that despite his efforts with the sunscreen, she was still a little bit burned. He couldn't help but press a kiss against her back, and then her shoulder. And then again, and again, until she turned over in his arms, staring up at him with wide moist eyes.

--b&b--

Suddenly, what was upright seemed upside down, as Brennan rolled to her back, looking up to see Booth resting above her, his bare chest smooth in the pale moonlight coming through her window. His eyes were concerned, but kind, and she placed the palm of her hand against his cheek, enjoying the slight stubble there against her softer skin. He leaned into her touch for just a second and then was leaning toward her. Brennan's neck arched to meet him, and their lips stilled, a millimeter away from one another's. Hers parted, and whether it was in invitation or not, he accepted and lowered his lips that fraction more until there was nothing between them but shared breath and the soft brush of meeting. She groaned, and he almost pulled back, but her fingers threaded in the hair at the back of his neck, keeping him still as she kissed him back. Booth settled his weight more firmly against hers and wrapped his arms around her, letting his tongue whisper against the inside of her mouth, against the sweet line of her teeth.

Brennan's legs parted just a fraction, but it was enough to allow Booth to press closer to her, causing her to gasp, pulling her mouth away for air. Booth took the opportunity to touch her jaw and cheeks with his lips. "Bones…" he whispered. "I'm sorry about before." She nodded against his lips.

He paused when he tasted the remnants of her tears against her neck, and a wave of sympathy washed over him. Booth pulled in a deep breath and then rolled to his side, soothing her when she whimpered in disagreement. He continued to press light kisses against her skin, letting his hand rest gently against her stomach. "I don't like it when you're sad. Let me help you. Let me take care of you, Bones," he murmured, his fingers beginning a soft rotation over the silk of her nightgown. "Please…"

Brennan met his eyes and then nodded, her heart feeling full at the smile he gave her. She knew it was irrational to be so pleased by his approval, but all the same, she felt the sweet sting of pleasure, the one only achieved when his eyes conveyed his true admiration for her. But she gasped in surprise when he didn't kiss her mouth again, but instead shifted down on the bed, smoothing his hand down her stomach, over her center to settle on the mattress between her legs.

"Booth" she shuddered when his lips found the insides of her knees, and it was his name that spilled off of her lips, over and over, as he lightly kissed all up and down her legs. When he rubbed his thumbs against the insoles of her feet, a rush of moisture slicked between her legs, and her hips shifted in anticipation. But she wasn't going to ask, she didn't want to take advantage of him.

It seemed silly, her thinking that she was the one taking advantage of him, especially with the way he held her thighs open to his gaze and began nipping at the backs of her thighs, but still, she knew that she didn't want to ask for more than he wanted to give. But she couldn't stop the satisfied sigh that slid from her lips as he gently lifted the hem of her nightgown to settle just above the tops of her legs. The sharp hiss that escaped from his lips turned her on as much as anything he'd already done, and she knew he was shocked to see that she wasn't wearing underwear and was now completely bare to his gaze.

Booth had seen a lot of beautiful things in his life, but nothing compared to the way his partner was laying in front of him, so soft and pretty beneath his touch. He wanted to just look at her for the rest of his life. But when she shifted her hips, the invitation as old as time, he could resist no longer.

Instead of touching her with his fingers, he merely bent his head and took a sip from her heat.

A harsh moan slid up from her throat and into the night air, and her hands fell open at her sides in complete surrender to him and his touch. Booth hardly noticed however, as his entire being was centered on her desire for him. Time after time, he leaned down and pressed his lips against her until she was shifting and arching beneath him, her moans meeting his ears. He slid his thumbs to the seams where her thighs met her torso and pressed, parting her for a more intimate touch. And when he leaned over this time, his lips settled around her clit, beginning a gentle suction.

"Booth!" she cried out in pleasure, even as tears began to fall from her eyes again. It was too much, too much pleasure in spite of the pain in her heart, and she had no choice but to let her body react as it needed. But he knew what to do, and still continued his gentle touches, even letting one gentle index finger nestle against her opening, rubbing slightly against the slickness there, pressing and retreating, pressing, retreating. He created a rhythm with the tip of his finger and the tip of his tongue that soon had Brennan pressing her feet to the mattress to gain enough leverage to lift her hips up and into his mouth. Booth never lost his rhythmic touch, and instead grew all the more sure, encouraging her with soft strokes and easy kisses, perfect licks against her weeping flesh.

Brennan felt as if he had been pleasuring her forever, but then also felt as if time rushed to a culmination. She closed her eyes and saw sunsets, sandy beaches, blue skies, smiles, hand holding and Booth standing next to her. In her imagination, he tilted his head to the side and smiled at her, so kind and loving that she broke, her entire body reacting in spasms so intense she wasn't sure she'd ever recover. She wasn't sure what sounds were coming from her mouth, and she didn't care as the pleasure washed over her, as purely as the waves had earlier in the day.

When she began to settle, Booth gentled his touch and began a light massage of the inside of her thighs. When Brennan was completely relaxed against her mattress, he lifted his lips and pressed his cheek against the curve of his belly, both of them catching their breath from the experience.

Brennan's chest constricted in uncertainty. She wasn't completely sure how to react to him. Her fingers wove in the soft hair on his neck, and Booth stilled before resting his weight on his elbows on either side of her hips. He lifted himself up and over her and then settled back beside her, pulling her body against his, her back to his front. He kissed her shoulder again and then wrapped his arm around her waist.

Brennan felt warm and sleepy, but still cognizant enough to know that the pleasure had been fairly one sided. She rested her hand against his leg and turned her face toward his. "I could…"

"No," he kissed against her lips. "Not tonight. Not like this."

When she didn't answer, Booth's brow furrowed. "Do you…do you want me to leave?"

Brennan's hand tightened on the arm he had wrapped around his waist and she turned his in arms to pressed her hands to his chest. "No…don't leave," she answered simply, and he nodded.

Brennan watched, her skin feeling sensitive to Booth's near proximity, and the relaxed set to his body. She'd never been with him and seen him so at ease. Every muscle on his back and stomach was pronounced, but his face was passive, his eyes kind.

Booth had never seen her so relaxed, and he knew it was partially because of her emotional state, but also because of her sexual release. She closed her eyes and sighed, the sound absolute perfection to his ears. But then she looked up and he felt like she was examining him. Not in a bad way, but just very intimate, like a woman studies a man.

She struggled to bring cohesion to her thoughts, and her fingers brushed against his cheek and down his neck as she asked a question she'd been wondering about for a long time. "Do you look like your father?"

"Um…" he frowned, looking at her in shock and a tiny bit of betrayal, as if she should have known that that particular subject was off limits. And Brennan waited, wondering if once again, she'd said the wrong thing as a storm of emotions crossed over his face. Her breath caught in her chest as his cheeks contorted, perhaps at a painful memory, but then he met her eyes.

"No," he shrugged. "I don't. I look like my mom's dad."

A humorless chuckle left his lips, but he pulled her body tighter against hers. Her hands rested against his chest, in a combination of needing his support and wanting to comfort him.

"And my dad hated that guy," he was saying, his voice low and thoughtful. "And I think it was mutual, you know?" Booth frowned for a moment. "And I think that's another reason why he hated me."

The conversation in the muted room, under the blankets and sheets was incredibly intimate and personal, and Brennan continued to press her fingertips against his warm skin, keeping him close.

Brennan blinked. "Your father doesn't hate you, Booth."

He stared at her, and in his eyes, she could see that he wanted to believe her, but then he looked away. "Bones…that's nice of you to say, but in all honesty, you don't know that."

"Well…then he's foolish" her eyes began to droop and she moved a fraction closer to him. "Anyone who knows you and doesn't love you doesn't know the real you."

She spoke to wounds that were buried deep inside, and he felt his own face contort with emotion. Pressing his chin to the top of her head, he wrapped his arms around her. They were silent for a long time, and he thought maybe she'd fallen asleep, facing him for the first night.

"Do you know me, Bones?" he asked, a whisper into the intimate air, and he heard the desperation in his voice.

There was more silence, and then…

"Yes…" she whispered. "I do."

He closed his eyes and let her words wash over him and as she began to breathe in regular patterns, he held her, and then he also fell asleep.

--b&b--

The next morning, Brennan woke up and opened her eyes to find that she was literally pressed against almost every inch of her partner. She blinked as she tried to remember how that had happened, and then the events of the night before rushed to the front of her mind, and she shuddered at the memory of the sensations he'd caused in her body.

He was still fast asleep, and she looked at him. His hair was standing on end, and his mouth was open, soft snores escaping, and she couldn't help but smile, even as she felt slightly unsure about what to do next.

But his bare neck and chest were only centimeters away, and she could not resist pressing her lips to his skin. He was warm and easily moved, and she pressed on his shoulders until he was flat on his back, using her lips and tongue to trace all over his upper body. Having his strong and firm body splayed out beneath hers felt like the best gift, and she memorized every scar, every muscle, every inch of his skin. Thankfulness escaped through her every touch. He knew her, and he'd come to be with her, and he understood her…and…

He groaned and then opened one eye. "Hey…" he mumbled, sliding one hand over her head.

Brennan smiled and then moved up to press her face in his neck. "Good morning," she smiled again. Then she felt him tense, and she leaned back to see his eyes were wide as if he'd just realized that she was really there, and it wasn't a dream.

"Um…good morning" he repeated, running a hand down his face. She could see in his eyes the moment he remembered everything from the night before, and when she began to kiss him, he pulled away.

"Bones…you don't have to…"

She paused and then pulled back, "I want to." Her brow furrowed. "I mean, that is to say, I would very much like to kiss you."

His lips softened, as his eyes nearly crossed to remain open when she leaned down to kiss his mouth. Warm sheets, comfortable bodies, languid limbs, soft lips, soothing hands…

"No…" Booth pulled back, but pressed his lips to the skin below her ear. "I leave tonight, Bones. I…I don't want to do this and then leave you."

She knew what 'this' he meant, and she cupped his face in her hands. "Please." Brennan smoothed her hands down to his shoulders and rested her face against his chest. "I know this is a beginning. And I know we'll talk about it when I get back…"

It was what he wanted to hear, and what he needed to hear. His arms wrapped around her in an early morning embrace, and he swore to himself that it wouldn't be the last one they ever shared.

But still, his hands hesitated against the warm silk of her nightgown.

Brennan slid her hands underneath his and then moved to her back, pulling the nightgown completely off of her body, leaving her bare to his gaze.

Booth's nostrils flared as he took in the sight of her. Sunkissed cheeks and shoulders, freckling down to the gorgeous slopes of her pale, firm breasts, capped by sweet nipples untouched by the sun. His fingers twitched at her sides, and he stared at her, unsure he could actually bring himself to touch her perfect skin.

Her nipples tightened under his gaze, and her lips parted, even as her hips shifted against the sheets. "Booth?" she asked in a quiet voice, and he met her eyes.

She gasped at the intensity she saw there, and it made her feel even more exposed. "Just kiss me," she encouraged, leaning up to meet him halfway.

Booth pulled in a deep breath as he bent and caught her lips with his. He groaned and she tightened her arms around his shoulders, pulling him down on top of her.

Warm and willing were two words that most people wouldn't use to describe her, and nothing on the planet made him more proud than the fact that that part of her was his. And just as he sank a bit lower onto her, she wrapped her legs around his waist and rolled them over, peering down at him with a smile.

Booth smiled to himself, glad that warm and willing didn't mean she wasn't about to take anything laying down, even him.

His hands smoothed up and down her sides, and his neck arched back as she began peppering him with tiny kisses. It felt so amazing to be the recipient of…of whatever emotion she was feeling. When she placed light, sucking kisses against is stomach and tugged at the waistband of his boxers, he offered no resistance. And when Brennan measured him once in her palm and then slid astride him, lowering herself onto his body, he closed his eyes in ecstasy.

Her eyes were brighter than the sky, and the love he saw in them warmed him more than the sun. "You're beautiful, Bones," he said, and watched, amazed as she blushed, but didn't look away.

--b&b--

Brennan had been called beautiful by men before, and even during sex, but 'You're beautiful, Bones' was nothing she'd ever heard before.

His touch was steadier than the docks in the water and the affection in his voice was more private than a secluded beach house.

The sex between them was an extension of their lives, intertwined with one another in all ways.

As her breath began to falter, she pressed her hands to his shoulders, bearing down a bit more, pleased when his hands tightened on her hips and his mouth fell open.

"Booth…please."

She needed him to come, to lose control, just a bit. She needed to not be the only one who felt like life and purpose had come down to this instant. But she needn't have worried, because, he was getting warmer, and his hands were clutching her even tighter.

He'd called her beautiful…

But she'd never seen anything as beautiful as Booth at the culmination of sexual release. His chest muscles flexed, and his neck grew flushed, and his jaw tightened, and his eyes were wide. His cheeks relaxed and his lips parted. His thrusts became more intense and his breathing more ragged.

"Bones…please" he repeated her entreaty, and she knew what he meant.

Don't let me be alone in this. Show me you feel the same.

"I do…" she answered his unspoken plea. "Booth…"

Booth's arms wrapped around her and he hugged, tight, shuddering beneath her, and Brennan quaked all around him, the intensity of her emotions once again bringing tears to her eyes.

"Oh, Booth" she collapsed onto him, burying her face in the side of his neck, finding comfort in his soothing murmurs and soft touches. "I'm so…" she panted, her lips open against his skin as she tried to breath. "I'm so glad you came."

His stomach muscles pressed once, and then again, and then she heard him chuckle. Feeling confused, Brennan gathered up enough strength to peer into his eyes, as her mind rolled back to what she'd said.

Realizing the potential double meaning, she smiled, pressing her lips to his chest. "I meant I'm glad you came down here…to the beach."

"Ah…" he smiled, his body still slightly quivering beneath hers. "Me too…" he sighed, and tugged her close, and they both drifted off to sleep. "Me, too, Bones."

--b&b--

When Booth woke up a few hours later, he was alone. He rubbed his hand over his chest, and then sat up, searching around the bedroom for his boxers. His eyes caught on the vase of daffodils on the bedside table, and his heart expanded once again.

An idea began to form in his mind, and he wiped his eyes as he got off the bed before walking into the kitchen. When it was also empty, he frowned, walking around the house in search of his partner. When he noticed her standing outside, near the water's edge, he smiled to himself before walking to his bedroom and pulling on some clothes.

Brennan sensed the moment he was outside, as if her body was now even more attuned to his. But she didn't turn around, and instead just waited for him to join her.

There was a slight chill to the air, and she wrapped her arms around her body peering over the clear water.

"Hey, Bones" his voice was low and soothing.

Brennan did turn then, and met his eyes. "Hi."

The side of his mouth curved up in a small grin, and she felt a sliver of pleasure that she'd put it there.

He shoved his hands into his pockets and then stared out toward what she'd been looking at, and she looked at him. His hair was still kind of messy, and he hadn't shaved for a couple of days. His shirt was untucked, and he was tan. And smiling. He was smiling.

"You know…" he began. "You could come back with me today. I'm sure the airline would let you move your ticket date."

Brennan's eyebrows rose. "That's true."

He shrugged a shoulder. "Or you can stay here. It's up to you. But if you do stay here…" he nudged her shoulder with his. "I will be picking you up from the airport when you do come back to me."

She let the slip go by and then pondered on whether or not it even was a slip of his tongue. "I'll think about it," she promised. "And at the very least, I'll go with you to the airport."

His eyes narrowed. "That seems silly, Bones. If you're not going back to DC…then you don't want to sit in a car for hours, even if it is a limo," his eyebrows waggled. "Not just to see me back to the airport."

Her own eyes narrowed, and she looked away, feeling almost challenged. "Would you do the same, if the roles were reversed?"

When he didn't answer, she looked back at him to see a chagrined smile on his face. "Okay, okay…" he conceded. "You can take me to the airport."

Booth watched as she smiled, and then as she took a deep breath. "Um…" he began, motioning with his thumb back to the house. "I am going to go and pack."

Brennan nodded, grateful for his intuition. "I'm just going to stay out here for a bit longer."

"Sure," he nodded and then paused before leaning in and pressing a soft kiss against her lips.

Brennan watched as he walked inside, and then she turned and faced the water. The expanse of it couldn't even compare with the size of emotion she felt.

--b&b—

Booth stood at the check in gate and smiled one last time. "You sure, Bones?"

Brennan smiled in return. "I'm sure…I just need a few more days by myself. But I'll be back soon. I promise."

"I'm going to hold you to that, Bones." He leaned in, hesitating. They hadn't really talked about them, and now wasn't exactly the time to make demands, but it still didn't stop him from pressing a soft but possessive kiss against her lips. He felt gratified when she returned it, smoothing her hands over his shoulders.

He stood up straight and hefted his bag strap higher on his shoulder. One palm caressed her cheek, his thumb rubbing gently. "Okay…I'll see you soon. And I am picking you up at the airport."

Brennan wrapped her fingers around his wrist and smiled, stepping back. "Okay."

He walked backward, keeping his eyes on hers until he had to turn the corner. In a moment of almost childish sweetness, he pressed his fingers to his lips and then blew her a kiss.

Brennan blinked in surprise; it had been years since anyone had done that, and she never would have imagined Booth doing it. But it warmed her heart. It made her want to run after him and also realize that he was confident in her being alone.

A soft sigh escaped her lips, and she wrapped her arms around her waist before turning and walking out of the airport.

--b&b—

Over the next three days, Brennan worked on her book and took long walks on the beach, considering the events of the previous days, weeks, months, years…

Her father's death was painful, emotionally. She recognized this. And in the past, since she'd been fifteen years old, she'd determined to distance herself from things or people that caused her pain. Losing her mother had hurt, and she never thought she'd admit it, but losing Max hurt worse. And she knew it was because of their reestablished relationship…the good in that caused a higher degree of suffering.

Rationally, then, it would make sense to distance herself from Booth. She felt almost divided between rational thought and emotional desire. But as she examined further, calling on all of her training, she dissected her needs and desires, realizing that it wasn't divided equally. Her emotions regarding Booth were stronger than her empirical reasoning that any pain that might be caused by losing him would be worth the pleasure in knowing him more and more.

And sleeping alone felt genuinely lonely for the first time in her life.

And…relaxing on the beach felt solitary. And walking at the water's edge made her want to see more of his footprints, and not less.

All of these thoughts and more swirled in her mind as she landed in DC. Questions formed and refused to accept pat answers. Would Booth want her, want more of her? Would he feel that she was worth it? Would he even be at the airport, like he said he would?

Her hand tightened on the handle of her suitcase, and her eyes scanned the crowded terminal. And then she saw him.

About twenty feet away, a small smile on his face and a bouquet of flowers in his hands.

Appearing calmer than she felt, she walked in his direction, not stopping until she was directly in front of him.

"Hey…" he breathed, as if just then really believing she was there. "I, um…" he lifted the flowers in a somewhat awkward gesture. "I figured maybe it was time for some fresh flowers."

He'd kissed her goodbye, and now it was her turn to kiss him hello.

Standing on her tiptoes, she wrapped an arm around his neck and brought his lips down to hers, swallowing the pleasantly surprised moan that escaped him. The flowers he'd brought crushed between them, and she pulled back, hoping…

His cheeks were ruddy, but his eyes were happy, and he chuckled, biting his bottom lip and shifting his weight. He handed her the flowers and then picked up her suitcase, wrapping his arm around her and leading her toward the exit.

Brennan lifted the flowers to her nose. "I love daffodils."

Booth looked at her and smiled. "I know," he answered simply and tugged on her shoulders.

Brennan smiled, leaning into his side, feeling tired but welcomed, energized and comfortable all at once, all in his arm and smile and gaze. "I'm glad to be home," she confessed.

Booth hugged her tighter, and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Me too, Bones. I can't live without you, and I don't want to."

His casual declaration warmed her heart, and she rested her cheek against him.

He drove her to her apartment and stayed.

And over the next few weeks, he moved more of his things there.

And over the next few months, he moved all of his things there.

And over the next few decades, they lived there. Together.

And every week, he bought her daffodils.

--b&b—

The end!

See you in an hour with "The Long Hot Summer Night", a one shot inspired by the words "Toned, wet, gleaming, mostly naked…"