A/N: This is going to be a series of not necessarily chronological oneshots set in this AU. Genres will vary, and so will POVs, as I've got a bunch of headcanons about what all the other characters' animas are, but rest assured, B&B are the center, are usual. There'll be lots of worldbuilding and character studies, because I love those, and many many thoughts on anima(l) symbolism. The idea for this AU is one I've used before for a different fanfic in a different fandom, and was initially an idea meant for an original story I have, but I've tweaked a few things in the process of making the idea better fit the Bones world.

There were few greater freedoms in this world than the one she experienced now, she thought, soaring over the skies of Washington D.C., with every delicate flutter of her black wings instinctively carrying her across the unseen currents of the wind.

Over the years, Temperance Brennan had flown over dozens of different countries, from rural farmlands to lush rainforests to various concrete jungles with skyscrapers in place of giant trees, and she loved it every time, as though it were the first time.

Tonight was no exception.

A crow's beak was not made for smiling, but her eyes—a piercing blue-grey completely unnatural for her species, but one that was identical to her human form—were clearly alight with a silent smile.

For as long as she could remember, she had been Temperance, but in the sheer freedom afforded by the open skies that she soared through with preternatural ease, she thought she could remember Joy.

Like most other major cities Brennan had flown in, DC had a myriad of buildings lit up on the ground creating a kaleidoscope of colors that often drowned out the stars shining overhead. Thankfully, that wasn't a problem for Brennan.

Because when you were this close to them, the stars managed to outshine even the bright lights that shone over the monument. No matter how many times she experienced it, there was always that sense of awe that came with experiencing such transcendent beauty up close.

Sometimes, she wished she was an artist like Angela, just so she'd be able to capture some semblance of it for everyone else to see. Her best friend could fly too, of course, and they had certainly flown together in the past, but she could never reach the places a crow could. A butterfly wouldn't be able to safely survive these heights, which was truly a crying shame, she thought, as she marvelled over the twinkling lights that danced across her vision tonight, like a private show for her eyes alone.

Just then, as if summoned by the thought, she spotted movement in a corner of her eye. The shadow turned into a familiar figure as it flew closer. A ferruginous hawk. Buteo regalis. Not exactly a species native to this part of the city. Not exactly an ordinary hawk, as the neon red tag hanging on his left claw proved—standard required identification for anyone out in public in their anima form. It safely marked them out from normal animals.

As if those eyes were not enough of an indication, she thought with a slight mental scoff. Hawks couldn't exactly smile with their beaks either, but this one had familiar chocolate brown eyes that never failed to send warmth travelling across her body.

Booth. He always found her. No matter what flight path Brennan chose to take—and it was almost always a different one each time, he would eventually appear at some point, his larger form flying a path parallel to hers.

Amidst the backdrop of a dark night, even with her unusually bright eyes, and the same neon red tag tied to her own claw, a single carrion crow was nearly indistinguishable from the black sky.

Even so, Booth always found his way to her, whether it was to her apartment with takeout and paperwork, or in the vast skies of this city they both called home.

It was different though, when they were together like this. While they were masters of nonverbal communication even in their human forms, it was still a very different beast to talk when they were essentially beasts of a sort, after all.

There was anima sign language, of course, and the fact that they were both avians made it even easier to communicate, especially as they became more adept at the interpreting nuances in expression of each other's anima form, but it was still all but impossible to have a fight about sex, religion or any of the other usual topics that dominated many of their interactions together.

Here, now, with both of them flying wild and free as could be in a sky that seemed boundless (even though, rationally, she knew that was impossible), there was a much purer form of communication.

Here, now, they flew circles around the other, tracing figures in the sky and leaving trails in the clouds they burst through. By turns, they raced, chased and played with each other like children running through an open field. They left behind all the trappings of their mundane humanity—the cases, the professional lines, the prying eyes, the metaphoric weight of the world on their shoulders—and let themselves simply be.

Watched only by the stars in the sky shining brightly overhead, and high above the twinkling lights of civilization, the two of them danced together in the skies, they danced even more easily than they once did in the small town of Aurora.

-o-

If the next morning, Brennan and Booth interacted like normal, without a single indication that they had spent the night flying in the skies together in an intricate aerial dance typically reserved only for mated pairs, or those courting, at the very least, then it was their secret to keep.