AN: So here's the thing. The premiere was wonderful. I have watched it four times already. But it also reminded me of the fact that, even though we finally made it to November, it is going to be even more painful to wait until April after these 6 episodes air.

Therefore, my updates will be probably only once a week until the hiatus. Something to look forward to I hope!

Marks

For a while I didn't know what had changed. I have been Bones' partner for about 6 years give or take. Sure she has changed her hair. It has been curly, straight, longer, shorter, she even had those bangs after Maluku. And her clothes have changed over the years. From Lara Croft and tribal inspired jewelry to best-selling author professional she now sported flowing maternity clothes.

But, no matter what else has changed, she has always smelled the same.

I can't name it; don't know the names of flowers or essences or whatever. I'm a guy, it all just smells the same. I don't know if it was a shampoo or a perfume or those chemical things she said made people attracted to one another. Maybe it was all of the above.

What I did know was that it smelled, well, Bones-y, and that I liked it.

However, over the past few weeks there is something else. It was subtle, not overpowering or anything, just different. She still smells like all of the other stuff but there is something new. The shampoo she uses hasn't changed, I checked. And I haven't seen any more weird bottles on the bureau.

It's not that I don't like it, but it's different. I mean, I shouldn't complain at all, our place will soon be filled with smelly diapers and Desitin. But the mystery remained unsolved and I decided I must have fall allergies and moved on. Until I came home tonight.

As I came into the bedroom to change after a long day at work I could smell it. There she was, sitting on the bed in nothing but her bra and panties rubbing stuff all over herself. The jumbo-sized container of goop was sitting next to her on the bed.

I was thankful that it was in fact a store bought container and not some weird home beauty science experiment I would find remnants of in the kitchen. Or some weird hippie remedy that Angela had given her.

Nope, it was run of the mill cocoa butter.

Although I wasn't around much for Rebecca's pregnancy and have not been around that many pregnant women I knew what cocoa butter was for. I have been shot and beaten enough times to know the healing wonders of cocoa butter and vitamin E. Although I never used the stuff as long as my doctors told me to, I have used it on the bigger scars. Scars can be rugged and sexy, but only to a point, or so I've been told.

Now in all honesty, stretch marks, even though they are a result of the miracle of life, are not sexy. Not rugged. And on some women, not little. It's the just the truth. Thank God Bones is dealing with it already. I can only see a little mark on her left side so far.

What is hot though is the way she is rubbing the lotion al over herself. I'm not lying when I tell her she looks great, she does. Pregnancy suits her. She says I think she looks good because it's my kid, but she has been hot for 7 years now, a cute pregnant belly isn't going to change how I look at her.

Realizing that this would be an opportunity to help and earn me some brownie points, maybe more, I fully enter the room for the first time.

"Hey, Bones."

"Booth. You're home early."

"Eh, didn't hit too much traffic. How was the rest of your day?"

"It was fine. I laid down in my office for a while. Caught up on paperwork." And so the odd small talk while I am changing and she sits on the bed practically naked ends. I love these little domestic moments. I love that she doesn't care if I am in the room and she is changing. But sometimes I worry that we are one step away from peeing in front of each other.

Going back to my original thoughts, I come to stand next to her. "Need help with that, Bones?"

"With what? The lotion?"

"Yeah. Here, lie back. I'll even rub your feet."

"Are you trying to get sex?"

"Always," I mumbled under my breath before a quick clear of the throat. "C'mon, I'm trying to do something nice here. I can go watch the game if you want me to."

"No, I find that I enjoy your foot massages."

"Well, thanks."

After she gets all settled, I sit on the side of the bed next to her. I warm a glob of the lotion in my hands and then start slowly and gently rubbing the lotion into her sides. She complains that the skin there is tight so I know she will enjoy it.

As I start to rub the lotion into her left side she began to pull away from me.

"What's wrong, Bones?"

"Nothing is wrong, however I find that I am self-conscious. I have been trying to avoid stretch marks, but this one showed up last week."

"Yeah, I noticed. It's OK."

"Thanks for the permission, Booth."

"You know I didn't mean it that way." Trying to cheer her up without saying something more stupid I pull her to me and give her a kiss. "You know you look great right?"

"Yes, you keep telling me that. I have accepted that my body will change during the pregnancy, but this mark is a reminder that some of the changes will be permanent. My body will be marred for life."

"One stretch mark will not mar your body."

"Do you know what mar means?"

"Yes, I know what the word mar means. What I mean is a few marks here or there will not make your body any less beautiful."

"Booth, stretch marks are awful looking, don't lie."

"OK, I will admit they aren't sexy, but just a few isn't bad. You rub the lotion and still do that yoga stuff. You look great Bones, I mean it."

"Prove it." Well if that was ever a green light…

"No, Booth, not like that."

"Huh?" I ask pulling back from her neck.

"Prove it. If my body will be forever changed by producing your progeny, then you have to find a way to forever mark your body."

"Um, okay. Well, I was considering getting a tattoo once we decide on a name. Not of the name, but something like it."

"Like your Parker tattoo?"

"Yes."

"While I do not like the idea of permanently tarnishing one's skin with ink, let alone the possible health risks, I do find the sentimental nature of your tattoos…, well, they make you the alpha male you are. I would very much like it if you got a tattoo symbolizing our child."

"So, yes? We're even?"

"I would not say that the brief pain of an artistic tattoo compares to childbirth, but yes, on this we are even."

"Great," I said as I reattached my lips to her neck. Maybe if I play my cards right we can find a few more enjoyable ways to mark each other.