He was Booth.

She was Bones.

It was simple to them; easy. Others didn't understand sometimes, the way they managed to call each other by their nicknames all the freaking time, but for them it was matter-of-fact. It was just…them. Individual, special, unique.

Theirs.

He was Booth.

It was a strange development, but one he did not mind. Although he was used to lots of people calling him Booth – many of his coworkers, some of his friends – having her call him Booth was just…different. Much as he tried to push the feeling away, it was hard to deny that he liked her more than was healthy for a purely professional relationship. He felt…so much, when he was around her. Strong, like he could lift all their troubles away. Weak, like a drug addict that needed just one more hit, all the damn time. Happy, so blissfully happy that he wanted to spin her around and yell it out to the world. Angry, because she drove him insane, pushed his boundaries and forced him to reciprocate.

He loved her, much as he tried to deny it, and the way she called him Booth was still strange to her.

Booth. Her voice, amused, as if he'd just done something ridiculous. Booth. A smile stretched across her face, her voice giggly as she laughed at him. Booth. Her tone angry, annoyed, him having done something wrong again, knowingly or not.

Booth. Her lips moving against him. Booth. Her lips parted on a sigh…

Somehow it had surprised him, that she'd kept calling him Booth even after their relationship had developed. Part of it, he'd thought, had been that six years of habit was hard to break. But when asked, she'd shrugged. "It's your name," she'd said, so matter-of-factly he wondered why he hadn't understood before. "It's who you are."

But sometimes…

Sometimes, when he was tired and broken. When he was on the verge of falling over the edge. When he woke in the night, breaths coming too fast and feeling like he'd been hit by a train.

Seeley. The same voice, soft in his ear as she tugged on his arm. Seeley, as she let him support himself on her, her strength flowing into him. Seeley, as she pressed a kiss against his jaw and ran her fingers over every tense muscle until he was relaxed and sleepy against her again.

He was Booth. But he was also Seeley Booth. Seeley Joseph Booth. And even though he rarely ever admitted it, he loved the sound of his first name on her lips, comforting and warm and soft like a blanket, wrapped around him. Like she knew him, more than anyone in the world, more than himself.

He liked that.

She was Bones.

The name had been abhorrent to her at first, degrading in it's simplicity. Bones. As if he was relegating her to the sidelines, telling her she was nothing but bones, nothing but evidence, nothing but a pawn in play.

But it had grown on her, slowly. Bones. Before long, she saw it as less of a denial of her talents, less of a push towards the side, and more as a compliment. Bones. The structure of the human body, what kept it from falling apart into flesh and muscles. Strong and hard to break, but flexible as well.

Bones. His voice excited, for whatever reason – a new case, a break in a current case, a game won by his hockey team. Bones. A whine, his voice annoyed at being pulled into something he didn't want to do, whatever that may be. Bones. Stern, compelling, challenging her to whatever he had planned.

Bones. His groan in her ear, his touch skimming her bare skin. Bones. A soft sigh into the curve of her neck…

She hadn't been surprised when he'd continued to call her by her nickname, all throughout their lives, even as their relationship progressed into something more. The simplicity of it, the knowing, the way it felt unique, only his, was something she cherished. But she had been surprised when others had pointed it out, surprised that they hadn't become more personal.

It was the opposite of what people saw, though. People thought they were holding each other at a distance, that he was not quite letting her in when he called her Bones. But she saw it differently. He was pulling her closer, shielding her in the name.

And yet…

Temperance, he'd whisper when she was shaking with fear or pain. Temperance, he'd say seriously, cupping her jaw in his hand so that she'd look at him. Temperance, he'd murmur into her hair when her body collapsed against his, her face buried in his shoulder as her tears stained the fabric of his shirt.

Her name, it was a name that burdened her with her past, with expectations she did not want to admit to. Her name, it was a tie back to the parents that abandoned her, the mother she missed with every beat of her heart, and the father she ached for because she didn't know how to trust him, the brother she alternatively hated and loved with every change of heart. It was a name that pressed down on her, memories that made her chest ache and her eyes tear.

But on his lips…on his lips it took away the bad connotations, the inability to breathe, the lack of control over her own world. On his lips, it gave her a better sense of her own identity than anything or anyone had ever given her before.

I know who you are…

Their names remained an enigma to those around them. His whispered calls of "Bones", filled with such love and reverence that merely hearing the words felt like intruding on something extremely intimate; her murmured "Booth" 's that were so soft and caring that unless those watching had known better, they would've thought that was actually his name.

And yet, there was something so desirable and wonderful and perfect in hearing their 'real' names on each other's lips, something so warm and comforting that it made the other break apart into pieces, something that allowed them to let go in the only place they knew it was okay to let go: each other's arms.

Sometimes he was Seeley.

Sometimes she was Temperance.

They wouldn't have it any other way.