Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Bones show, except a copy of the season 4 DVDs. Although, I did contemplate buying a copy of one of the books that inspired the show...


Booth entered his apartment, weary from seemingly endless paperwork and long meetings. All he wanted to do was fall onto the bed, and enjoy his TV before he and Bones moved into their new place. Booth knew that Bones was still at the Jeffersonian, having heard a spiel over lunch about some new skeleton from the Whatever Tribe of Who Knows Where, Africa or something. Booth walked through the front hallway, stopping in the kitchen to fill a glass with water. On the way to the bedroom, Booth drank from the glass, fully intending on stripping down to his boxers and crashing on the bed.

When he entered the bedroom, already loosening the trademark flashy tie around his neck, Booth immediately headed to the closet to hang up his suit. After getting comfortable, he whirled around, feet already moving towards the heavenly oasis that was his bed. Booth's eyes, rather than closing upon impact of the amazingly soft feather pillows, opened when he landed on something that most definitely not part of his pillow.

Booth looked at the small rectangle that had impeded his ability to fall asleep, and saw from the handwriting on the front that it was from Bones. A smile starting to creep onto his face, he fingered the unsealed envelope, and wondered what exactly it could be. He knew that Bones thought she was more adept at saying what she felt through words rather than speech. Booth's smile broadened at the thought of her wanting to say something so badly as to make sure that there was no room for misunderstanding.

As Booth opened the envelope and unfolded the stiff sheet of paper, Booth admired the care Bones had taken to show her desire for him to pleased. Rather than typing what she wanted to say, she took the time and effort to handwrite her feelings. To him, that showed more love than anything else.

Booth started to read, and was immediately amazed by the woman he was lucky enough to call his. But, like he had told a case just before they got together, he wanted to be about more than luck. And thankfully, with her it was. He knew she loved him just as he loved her.

Continuing with his reading, Booth couldn't help but think of how stupid he must have been to draw the equally stupid line. Looking back, he could see it for what it really was: a way to protect them both, while simultaneously hindering them. His own confusing feelings wrapped up in concern for what could happen if an enemy got wind of the fact that Bones meant more to him than their patented "Just Partners" line. And, he thought, I was right. Case in point: Pam Nunan. That case was the first true time since "The Line" that Booth even acknowledged that there were feelings. Then, Pam pulled out that gun, and aimed it at Bones. She may as well have aimed it directly at his heart. Of course, she got pretty close. Reading Bones' letter, he agreed with her about stepping over the line.

Booth laughed a small, indulgent chuckle at Bones' statement of him teaching her love. He had to disagree-she taught him just as much as could ever teach her. They both learned hard lessons as kids, and he believed that the passion she loved him with now wasn't lost, but simply had no focal point. He firmly believed that she was misunderstood by so many people, sometimes even those closest to her at the Jeffersonian. he could only imagine how this must make her feel, and he once again promised to let her know how much he loved her.

Remembering the statement he made in his kitchen that morning, Booth was not surprised that Bones was intrigued by the idea. So many times she had spouted notions that it was a tradition skewed in the alpha-male's favor that the woman should be proposed to. He knew she would take great delight in analyzing that comment until she could put it in an anthropologic setting, which was partly why he said it. The other part was because it would mean more to both of them if she proposed to him. There was something he couldn't explain when he read what Bones said about praying to God, and the calm that he seemed to possess. He knew she was worried about how their child would turn out - as if, simply because she was their daughter's mother, their little girl would grow up to be as awkward as Bones believed she was. It humbled him to read that Bones wanted their daughter to be like him, and he was in awe over this woman, who couldn't see just how beautiful she was, inside and out.

Another small chuckle escaped his lips, as he remembered the splinter she adamantly refused she'd get, and the incredibly unfunny jokes that she tried to make, which made her all the funnier. Life, and love, were funny like that. Booth felt his heart melt as the letter mentioned Parker, and the child that had yet to be named. He felt tears come to his eyes as she said, "Soon a living symbol of the love we feel for each other." She had come so far from a few years ago, when she asked him for his help in creating her offspring. Remembering the look on Sweets' face as well as his own, he was sure, was enough to send him into a laughing spell, lasting a few minutes, after which he had to dry his cheeks from the tears of laughter that had spilled over uncontrollably.

Once more, Booth turned to letter and found where he had left off. His smile softened a smidge as he read the next two paragraphs, reading her sentences on marriage and monogamy. He remembered only too well the underwater sea welder and the botanist, who was so completely gay that the poor guy didn't even realize it. Or, if he did, he wasn't ready to admit it yet and come out of the closet. Booth had to laugh as he imagined Bones' reaction to that pop culture reference, most likely envisioning an actual closet, and being at a complete loss as to why someone would be in the closet to begin with. Booth smiled the widest smile yet, as Bones continued to tell why anthropology has it wrong yet again. He kept smiling, reading her announcement, private as it was, that he was the one to change her beliefs on love, monogamy, marriage, and family.

He read the end of the letter, remembering the night on the steps outside the Hoover building, and recriminated himself. If he had listened to her words, he would have realized that she was indeed trying to protect him, although he didn't need it. He thought back, and acknowledged that, though she did indeed break his heart that night, without that sorrow and bitterness, they would never be where they are now. He thanked God everyday for the woman He had put in his life, and could still see those 30, 40, and 50 years. If he squinted, like he originally described what she did as a squint so many years ago, he could see those years, and everything that goes with it, with her standing by his side, their love for each other clearly visible to anyone who looked.

Booth knew what he needed to do now.