Chapter 4

It had been slightly over a week since Pops' funeral. Booth hadn't returned to work yet as he had taken the time to settle Pops' affairs.

Sitting on the couch, Booth rummaged through the last box of his belongings, having already sorted a few items which he felt both Jared and Parker would like as keepsakes.

In this last box, Booth found two wrapped items. One addressed to him, 'Shrimp', and the other to Temperance. As he opened his, Booth frowned reading a small note that Pops' had written to him on the package.

Getting up, Booth looked at the time; he grabbed his jacket, and walked out of his apartment.

Brennan was curled on her sofa, sipping a glass of wine as she read her newest manuscript. She smiled, satisfied that her newest novel flowed so easily.

Leaning her head back, her thoughts wandered to Booth. When had he become so important in her life? She couldn't exactly pinpoint a time; it was something steady that increased, as he became more certain in her life than anything else.

Brennan snapped out of her musings as she heard knocking at her door. Smiling, she set down her glass and walked over to let her visitor in. She had barely opened it, when they both said simultaneously, "Hello, Booth" "Hey Bones."

Letting himself in, Booth took Brennan's hand and walked her over to the sofa. "I want to talk to you about something, but first, I have this for you." They both sat down and facing each other, Booth handed her the larger of the two packages he held.

"What is this, Booth? It feels quite heavy." Brennan observed the object now in her lap.

Giving her his warmest smile, Booth pointed to the note. "I found this within Pops' belongings. He seems to have packed this a while ago for you."

Reaching for the note, Brennan couldn't take her eyes off of Booth's. "Do you know what Hank would want to give to me?"

"I have an idea, but this is obvious something that Pops wanted to give to you." Booth observed her hesitate. "Just open it, Bones, and see."

Taking the note, Brennan started to read it our loud.

"Temperance,

This is a tradition that I promised my wife that I would hand down to a beloved member of our family. Her grandmother, Edna, who received it from her mother, gave my beloved Margaret this music box. It's worn and the music doesn't play well. I think you'll agree that its meaning and value are for what is inside, letters written by someone who knew, felt and deserved love. And what it meant to be truly cherished.

In time, I hope that you will place your own letter inside telling your love story and pass this down to my great-granddaughter.

Love, Hank."

Brennan had tears in her eyes as she opened the music box. The box was wooden, not overly ornate, but beautiful in its simplicity.

Inside it contained three letters; the first was almost brown with age, the writing so faded and fine that it was barely legible. The next was from Edna describing her life and greatest joy, the love she shared with John, and the family they raised.

The last letter was tied with a velvet ribbon, and Margaret's script was very fine. The letter contained Margaret's thoughts on her life, fears, and moments she shared with her Hank.

Brennan couldn't bring herself to finish reading. She felt overwhelmed, confused, but something hit home.

"There were times I didn't see what our future held. I was afraid to lose what we had if Hank's intentions didn't work. Those were the times I decided to let his heart lead us. His heart relaxed me, and I had complete trust in Hank."

Brennan looked at Booth wiping away her tears. "What is that you're holding, Booth?"

Booth frowned slightly as he gave her his package to open.

"They're letters between Pops and my father. About a year after Jared and I moved in with Pops our father wrote to him. Apparently, they wrote back and forth sporadically for the next few years before Pops stopped getting letters."

Brennan decided not to open the letters but rather she sifted through them looking at the dates on the envelopes.

"Are you going to read them? Hank seemed to think it was important for you to have these."

Booth took a few of the letters and stared at them for a moment.

"I don't know that I want to read them." Taking Brennan's hand, he continued. "Pops' note to me said he wasn't sure I'd want them. But he wanted me to know that my father was the one at fault. That if I read these letters I would see that I am not that man, that I am not my father."

Before he could finish, Brennan had set down the items and had grabbed Booth into a tight embrace. "I love you, Booth," she blurted out, surprised that the words came out so readily.

Cupping her face with his hands, Booth caressed her as he looked into her eyes. Lost in the emotions they revealed to him. "Do you trust me, Bones?" Booth whispered leaning his forehead on hers.

"Because I have to tell you, Bones, you absolutely amaze me. You can bring me to solid ground without even trying. You have such a caring way that comes so naturally that you don't even notice. You don't see it, but Bones, those with the biggest hearts never see the impact they have on others."

Caressing her lips with his thumb, Booth looked at her as he leaned in.

"I am in love with you, Temperance Brennan. It had never changed, and I will show you that every day for the rest of our lives, that love. Just trust me."

With that he knew, they were together and they closed the gap between them, kissing only intensifying the love they felt. Nothing between them unsaid any longer, they made their way to Brennan's bedroom, closing the door behind them.

The end