"The mouth is made for communication, and nothing is more articulate than a kiss." - Jarod Kintz, It Occurred to Me

9.

One thing Booth had come to learn about Temperance Brennan was that she was rarely idle. He'd always assumed that it was a cover; a means to distract herself from the feelings of isolation, really any feelings. But over the months of living together, he had learned she was truly happiest when she had a handful of projects on the go. To him, a bottle of beer and his favorite team on the tube was close to bliss. It took him a long time to understand that having something to occupy her mind and her hands gave her that same contentment. It amazed him and sometimes drove him crazy, but it was also one of those things he'd come to respect in her, albeit grudgingly.

So it struck him as odd the weekend she came home from Quantico early on a Friday night and curled up beside him on the couch. She took control of the remote and settled on a silly, overly sappy 80's movie, refusing to relinquish her grip as he teasingly tried to wrest it away. He chalked it up as exhaustion, remembering his own cadet days. But by morning he was sure something was wrong as she shrugged off his questions and slowly sipped her coffee, staring out the window, the paper forgotten in her lap.

"Bones," he chided softly. She glanced up and gave him a small crooked smile. He continued, "You should go to the lab for a while today."

Her brow furrowed in confusion. "You want me to go the lab?"

"Yeah, you know, check in, make sure the bones haven't walked away, round up the squints and rein them in."

Her expression didn't change. "All these weeks you've been pouting about missing my company and now that I am home you want me to leave? And the bones cannot walk. They are missing the necessary muscular structure and ligaments to properly bind them together to enact movement."

"I don't pout Bones."

The previous whisper of a smile returned. "It still marks a considerable change in your ideology."

"It's not ideology Bones. I just figured that while I went to Parker's game, you could indulge in a little lab time. I know you've been missing it."

"I enjoy attending Parker's games as well Booth. It has been a while since I have been to one."

"I know you do. But we'll spend the afternoon together and that's what counts."

"But..." Had he forgotten that they'd almost broken up over this very issue once before?

He sighed and stood up to put his mug in the sink. "Look, whatever you want to do is fine, okay?"

"I... Okay," she conceded, knowing that her presence would not be missed in the cool, dim skating rink. The interaction between the hockey players and observers was low. "It would be nice to visit with everyone at work. I find that I miss their presence. FBI cadets are not much interested in scientific discourse."

He rubbed his hands together. "Good. Now, I'm gonna catch a shower and..."

She rose up stiffly beside him, cursing the intense training she was going through that left her so sore, but feeling a sudden burst of gratitude as her fingers trailed slowly across his wrist to his hand. "Would you...?"

He smirked and wrapped his fingers around hers. He let his head drift down to brush his lips against hers, which she returned with impatience. He broke away with a gasp and then abruptly urged her forward. "Last one in's a dirty rascal!"

She responded with a throaty chuckle and pulled up against his back. "I will demonstrate which one of us is dirty," she whispered against the back of his ear before biting it with a gentle tug.

"God Bones," he moaned as his hand slid up her thigh.

She pushed away, littering the hallway with clothing as she made her way to the bathroom, erasing his concerns as other pressing matters came to his attention.

He hurried to catch up.

(.xxx.)

"Sometimes, reaching out and taking someone's hand is the beginning of a journey. At other times, it is allowing another to take yours." - Vera Nazarian, The Perpetual Calendar of Inspiration

(.xxx.)

In the gray light of dawn, Temperance Brennan watched her partner sleep. His breathing was uneven, interrupted by sporadic snores, which, she suspected, was a precursor to sleep apnea. She had considered broaching the issue of repairing his deviated septum a number of times, but as yet had not determined if the risk was worth the argument that would inevitably ensue. His snoring stopped abruptly and his breathing evened out. Later, she decided. Not now: he would be awake soon and there was a far more pressing serious conversation to be had.

She waited until his hand reached over to her vacant spot on the bed until she spoke. "Booth."

He rolled toward the window and squinted at her. "Bones?"

"I am ready to converse with you."

"Converse?" A yawn split his question and he craned his head to see the alarm clock. "It's early Bones."

"I am aware. I need to go back later this morning."

"But not now," he whined.

She smiled softly and assured him, "No, not now, but soon." She exchanged her seat on the ledge for a spot by his side. She ran her hand down his arm and pressed a good morning kiss to his lips. "I need to talk to you."

Booth hummed and lingered at her lips. "Okay, spill."

Brennan paused to understand his phrasing before following his instructions. "I had a period of time last week, twelve hours to be specific, in which I suspected that I may be impregnated. By you," she specified.

His eyes widened and he leaned back. "You're?"

"No," she cut in quickly. "I am not with fetus." She looked away.

He led her gaze back to his with the touch of his finger on her jaw line. "But you thought you were?"

"Yes," she answered truthfully, reluctantly.

"You didn't want to tell me."

"No."

The penny dropped. "Because it was only a suspicion and you do not speculate without proof." He stated knowingly. Her eyes flickered as she fought to maintain his gaze. He could tell that she wanted to flee. "Hey Bones," he chided softly. "It's okay, I know you."

"I deliberately kept this from you."

"You're telling me now," he pointed out.

"I was... nervous of your reaction."

"You thought I'd be upset?"

She didn't answer him directly. "We had a seminar the other week. They separated the men from the women and discussed gender issues in the workplace. At least it is my assumption that the men also discussed gender issues, but as I did not attend I am not certain that the assumption is correct." She paused. "Did you receive this type of training as well?"

"Huh? Oh yeah. I think we did something like that. Sensitivity and sexual harassment I think?" He was still focused on the possible pregnancy scare, on what might have been.

"You did not discuss the impact of pregnancy on your job performance? Or methods of self defence such as SING? I admit the defence training was satisfying although it seemed to be below the calibre of training required for agents."

The tips of Booth's ears pinked. "Nuh. We basically were told not to hit on female agents, especially ones we worked with. No baby stuff. No kicking guys in the, you know."

She grinned at his discomfort but let it rest in favor of the conversation. "I find I am insulted that they did not cover the same information, but rationally I suppose that male and female agents do encounter different scenarios in this type of work. I have no information on women in law enforcement, but the statistics on the number assaults endured by women in the military are alarming."

He sensed she was about to veer wildly off her original topic, again. "Where are you going with this Bones?"

"There are ten females in the class of sixty-two. I would estimate the median age to be 25. I am by far the oldest female participant. The younger women have begun to look to me for advice, particularly on working in a male dominated profession, and I find myself uncomfortable in the role."

"Why? You're world class forensic anthropologist. You rule your male dominated profession."

"There's this phrase 'work-life balance'. They seem to think I should be adept at it by this point in my life." At this she sighed and looked up at her partner. "Booth. I have no balance. Work has always been my life. Even our life together is based on work. I can't." She paused again. "The concept of bringing a child into our arrangement concerns me. I don't know if I am able to...balance."

"We'd figure it out Bones."

"Yes, I assume we would adapt. However it occurred to me that am already past my prime child bearing years and that if we do choose to have a child together it should occur very soon. There are many things that would have to change if I became pregnant. They were very clear that the Bureau would object to my participating in field activities and I would have to reduce my work hours for proper rest and nutrition. Many of my duties at the lab would need to be re-assigned or curtailed to reduce risk to the fetus. It would effectively end our partnership for at least six months or possibly more, depending on the when we receive confirmation of gestation, and how long my maternity leave would extend. It seems incongruous to consider such an extended leave of absence from our partnership when I am taking this training in order to improve upon it."

Booth stopped himself from immediately soothing her and listened intently. "You're right. A child would change everything. But..."

"But?"

"Pregnancy doesn't last forever. Eventually we could be partners at work again, if you wanted it at that point. I." He grimaced.

"What?"

"I don't want you to get mad at me for this." She looked at him. "Okay. Well, I like to think our life partnership means more than the work one. As long as you're in my life, does it matter if we work together?"

"I would miss working with you very much. I do miss working with you. Don't you?"

"I. Yeah, I do. You make this whole thing...bearable. But at the end of the day if it meant that we could have a kid together? A baby Bones? I'd give up work in a heartbeat."

"That is the problem. You would not have to give up anything. I would have to give up almost everything. My balance would still be unbalanced only with the shift from work to life instead. I want a child, your child to be precise. However, I'm uncertain if I can make the requisite changes to my personality."

"You were worried I wouldn't understand your hesitation."

"You are an excellent father, Booth." He tried to gauge the hidden meaning in her words. There was something she wasn't saying.

"Okay?" He prompted.

She shook her head. "I am being ridiculous."

"Because you're concerned about bringing a child into this world?"

"I should have been happy to think we were having a child."

"And the fact that you weren't makes you ridiculous?"

"Yes."

"Bones, you're not ridiculous."

"You were excited when you thought I might be pregnant, if only for a few seconds."

"Well, yeah, I was. But Bones..."

"You are a good parent. I am... not."

"Not being thrilled the second you consider life changing news does not make you a bad parent Bones. Not caring about your child does. Did you listen to yourself before? You were planning all sorts of ways to take care of your child, even before it was born."

"Because I was concerned about how it would affect me."

"No Bones. Because you were trying to protect it. Wanting to protect yourself as well isn't wrong. It sure as hell doesn't make you a bad anything."

"I find myself torn between what I feel I should do and what I want to do."

"What you should do?"

"We are both of us, in high risk occupations that frequently require long work hours and travel. I'm not sure that such a lifestyle would be conducive to raising our child. Not if we wish to provide our progeny the type of childhood we lacked."

He frowned. "So we change our lifestyle."

"It's not that simple Booth. We like our lifestyle as it is."

"Well yeah, but you forget that I'm already raising a kid in this lifestyle."

She responded without thought. "But you are not actively raising Parker."

Booth's head swiveled towards her in shock, his expression darkening. "I may not be there to tuck him in each night, but have no doubt that I am raising my kid. Actively raising him," he stressed.

"Booth I…"

"No Bones. You don't get to lecture me or anthropologize me on this one. No."

She closed her mouth and stared at him, faintly shaking her head.

"What?" He barked.

"I chose my words carelessly. I was attempting to point out that your situation is different as a non-custodial parent. I did not intend to imply that you were somehow less as a parent because of it."

He looked away.

"Booth." At his continued silence, she huffed in frustration. "Look, our child would be with one or both of us all the time. I know that when you have Parker you take your name off the call list and make him your priority. You are a good father to him Booth. But you would not have that luxury with our child. What if we got a call in the middle of the night? Would you give up your case to another agent? Should I send someone else from the lab in my stead so that one of us could be home with the child? Would we require a full time nanny so that we could both go? I know you disapprove of people with live-in child care. I find myself displeased with each of those options."

"I'm not saying it's easy to adjust Bones."

"Would you take an administrative position if we had a child?"

"What?" She was giving him whiplash with these sudden topic changes so early in the day.

"It would mean more stable hours, less risk."

"Bones, I'm not a desk jockey," he complained.

She nodded in agreement. "So you would prefer that I discontinue our fieldwork. That I focus on the lab and teaching in order to provide a better environment for us to raise a child?"

"Well, that's what you used to do before me," he reasoned.

"What if it doesn't suit me any longer? I used to enjoy going to digs frequently as well."

"It'd be easier for you though."

"No Booth, that's where you are wrong, I like going out into the field. I like knowing the whole story, not just one part. In the lab my scope is limited. I am not a desk jockey either."

"Okay, okay I get it."

She scrutinized his expression. "Do you?"

He shrugged. "I don't want a desk job; you don't want one either; but you think that's what we need to do in order to have a kid together."

"Do you disagree?"

"I. I think we can make it work. Our jobs aren't that dangerous most of the time."

She leveled a stare at him. "Booth. We've both been kidnapped and shot, multiple times."

"Well, we came out of it okay." He attempted to charm her with his smile.

"I believe you would call that luck. We could have just as easily not been okay. I know I've expressed confidence in my ability to rear a progeny alone before Booth. But now. I can't conceive of a situation in which I would want to do it without you."

He tugged her down beside him and gave her a fierce hug. "Aw Bones."

In the quiet, she whispered. "I would give up my job for our child Booth. Would you?"

He hesitated, knowing she could feel his muscles tense. "I'm not sure."

"And that is why I am afraid. You already put yourself at risk for everyone else. For me. I know you would for your child. But you don't consider the emotion risk of your actions. Booth. My parents did that. I. I would have preferred to live a life on the run with my parents than the life I had without them. They left to protect me, physically, but by leaving they still hurt me."

"They wouldn't have been able to live with themselves if you'd died because of them, Bones."

"But the emotional trauma was okay?"

"You were alive to work through it. Dead, there's nothing more."

"You can't hurt when you're dead though." She countered.

"What're you saying Bones, you wish you'd died back then?"

Her gaze flickered away. "There were times where I considered it, but it always seemed incredibly selfish. I know you understand the concept Booth."

He stayed silent and tense beside her. She sighed and decided not to push him on the topic.

"If we have children, I will want to keep them safe. I don't want them to suffer the way we did."

This time Booth sighed. "You can't guarantee that."

She shook her head stubbornly. "I can try. I can reduce the risks. And if the risk is unacceptable, then...Then I don't want a child."

He traced the curve of the muscles in her arm. "You remember Amy Cullen?"

He felt her nod against his side. "Of course."

"Deputy Director Cullen was a field agent like me once. When Amy was born, he worked his ass off for a promotion. He got it too. But he was a damn good agent before that - loved his job. He told me once, when I was struggling with my job and Parker, that he hated being an administrator, but that he loved his daughter and wife more. In the end it didn't do him any good. Amy died. He and his wife separated. Life happens Bones, it doesn't matter what you do."

"What are you trying to tell me Booth?" He shivered at the flicker of her eyelashes against his skin.

"I'm saying there's no way to stack the deck."

"Is that a gambling metaphor?" He grinned and pulled her on top of him. She grunted and pushed herself off his chest. "Booth!"

He tilted his head up and kissed her. When she stopped struggling, he rolled them to their sides. "Having a kid is a gamble Bones. Being in love is a gamble. Getting up each day is a gamble."

"But you're not supposed to gamble any more. You said it made you unreliable. You said it broke your relationships."

"I'm always gonna be a gambler Bones. I've just chosen not to put money on the table anymore, and I deal with the consequences as they come. I've accepted I'm not in control. Can you?"

"Accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference?" she recited the lines from the Serenity Prayer quietly.

He nodded.

She was silent for several minutes, and then curled into him instinctively. "I will try," she murmured across his lips.

He broke away and questioned her, "So a baby?"

She stilled against him. After several breaths she nodded. "Someday," she confirmed.

It wasn't the sunrise that brightened up the room, but his resulting smile.

(.xxx.)

A/N: To those who have taken the time to slog through this and deemed it worth of review: thank you. It means a lot, especially as I know this isn't everyone's cup of tea. I had (have) some issues with the show and this is my way of working it out (because really, isn't that what fanfiction is for?).

Standard Disclaimer: The show and characters are not of my creation.