I go a little off script here from the show, but not in ways that matter! My main focus is Booth and Bones, so the parts with other characters may not be exactly as is in the show. More shameless smut and exploration of their relationship here. I hope you enjoy it. Disclaimer: I do not own Bones. I wish I did.

Brennan's phone buzzed, and she lurched for it. Everyone sat on the sofas in the atrium leant forwards, theirs faces etched with lines of worry.

"I understand, thank you." Brennan said into the receiver. She turned to her colleagues, "Booth got Broadsky."

Elation rippled through them, Hodgins leaping to his feet first, quickly joined by Angela and Cam. Brennan embraced all of her friends, fighting tears. Booth had won. It was over. She shared a look with Angela, whose smile grew exponentially with the knowledge of how much this meant. Brennan allowed the memories of the previous night to wash over her, and looked forward to the spark of joy that would undoubtedly follow once she saw Booth in the flesh. She gripped her phone tightly in her palm, waiting for a text or a call and made her way down the steps towards her office, needing a moment alone to process everything.

Mr Nigel Murray could rest in peace now that Broadsky would never see the light of day again, except through the bars of his jail cell. She entered her office, closing the glass door behind her, and sat heavily on the sofa. She noticed how her hands shook as she placed her phone on the coffee table in front of her. More than anything, she wanted to see Booth. His physical presence would confirm that everything was okay, that they were safe, that their night together wasn't an anomaly she'd never experience again. Brennan wondered how long it had taken the FBI to notify her. Was Booth still debriefing his superiors? There was no mention of him being injured, but what if he'd been shot? Was he in the hospital? She checked her phone. No messages or missed calls. It could be hours before she heard from him, or minutes. She interlocked her fingers, and watched as her knuckles whitened.

"Hey sweetie," Angela's voice broke the silence. Brennan jumped, not having heard her come in, "sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

"It's fine, Angela," Brennan replied, turning to look at her, eyes dashing to her phone every few seconds.

"We're all going to grab a drink to celebrate, and to remember Vincent before we send him home tonight," Angela said. They'd been told earlier that day that his body was ready for transport back to Oxford, "I said I'd check if you wanna come along, but I figured you'd be waiting for Booth."

Panic froze Brennan's heart, "You told everyone about me and Booth?"

"No! No, of course not. It's not mine to tell, Brennan." She shifted her weight to her other foot, one hand on her swollen belly, "I meant that I said to the others that you'd probably be waiting for Booth to get here before coming to the bar."

Bones exhaled and bit her lip, "Oh. Sorry, Ang."

Angela smiled brightly, thinking that this look of love really suited her best friend, "It's okay. I'll tell them that you guys might be along later, but, hey," she winked, "I'll cover for you when you choose to go and jump each other instead."

Brennan blushed, "Angela!"

She rolled her eyes, "oh please! Booth's just heroically taken down a master sniper all by himself. It would be rude of you not to jump him," but then she reached across and squeezed her friend's shoulder, "but seriously Brennan, you deserve time together. Especially today. He's only going to want to see you, anyway."

Brennan really hoped Angela was right. Her body ached in a way she'd never experienced at the thought of Booth walking towards her, wanting only her. Before, that would have terrified her but now it was all she could think about. It was another signifier of how much everything had changed. Her mobile phone buzzed. A spike of adrenalin jolted Brennan as she checked the message.

On my way to the lab. I love you.

She couldn't contain her grin and stood up, "Booth's on his way."

In my office. Hurry. I love you too.

Angela gestured that Brennan should stand, and pulled her in for a hug, "I'll get going then. See you tonight."

Just as she reached the door, Brennan spoke, "Thank you, Angela, for keeping quiet. We need more time to figure things out without other people questioning and...well..."

"I totally get it, sweetie, don't worry. Your secret is safe with me," she smiled at her friend, overcome with happiness for her, "now, have fun."

And then Brennan was alone, waiting, waiting, waiting. Unable to sit down, she paced her office and smoothed her hair, wondering if she looked pretty enough. These thoughts were a shock to her, for she'd never doubted her appearance before. But, she realised, that was probably because she never really cared what anyone else thought of her. That wasn't true for Booth. What Booth thought of her had always been important, he was her standard for decency, for compassion and kindness–for everything she considered worthwhile. She wanted to be enough. Low in her groin, muscles clenched involuntarily at the memory of his gaze. She took several deep breaths, trying not to count the minutes since his message had arrived but finding it difficult not to. She didn't know what to do with her arms. Folding them across her waist felt trapping and claustrophobic, but letting them down by her side made her feel like she was too exposed. Sitting down at her desk might give them a surface to rest on, but sitting still was impossible when she knew Booth was on his way, getting closer and closer to where she was. She made do switching positions, a minute in one, a minute in the next, straining to hear the opening of the automatic doors to the lab. Her pacing continued.

And then, footsteps.

She stopped just short of the doorway of her office, her pulse beating in the membranes of her eyes, dipping into her vision. A steady thud, thud, thud echoed up to the apex of the Jeffersonian and Brennan held her breath, waiting, waiting, waiting.

Booth appeared, the evening light catching his skin, casting an ethereal glow that made Brennan breathless. He was tired, and his suit was ruffled and dusty, but he was alive. Brennan felt a physical release, relief so strong that it was painful to endure. Her heart thundered so loudly she couldn't hear anything, her eyes fixated on him, watching him as he drew closer and closer. She could see the slight coarseness of his skin from too much time in the sun, and the tightness around his eyes from stress, but otherwise, he was fine. Brennan didn't realise how tightly she'd been holding herself, how much she hadn't wanted to believe he was okay until she saw him in front of her, just in case they were mistaken. In her head, she'd been preparing to find out he was gone. Without meaning to, she had prepared to lose him all over again, but now she didn't have to. He was back. Back from the dead, back for real. Tears of happiness rolled down her cheeks.

"Bones," Booth said, three steps away from her, and then there was no space between them. He sought her lips immediately, both hands gently cupping her face for their initial kiss, before one arm circled her waist and held on as his mouth hungrily demanded more. She tasted the fear, the love, the relief and slid her arms around his neck, locking them together. Brennan couldn't get enough, tasting salt on her lips from her own tears but not caring. She ran her fingers through his hair, trailing the tips of her fingers down the side of his neck and pressing her palm to that same space on his chest, the place she knew he loved.

Booth pulled away, breathing heavily, kissing her temple and then worked his way down to the space behind her earlobe. She shivered, clutching at him.

"I told you," he reminded her softly, brushing a tear away with his thumb, "I said I'd come home."

Brennan rested her forehead against his, "you did."

Booth kissed her again, indulging in the feel of her lips against his. It was still all so new. The fact that he could walk into a room where she was and kiss her, and have her respond as she was now, angling herself closer, slipping her tongue between his lips..."let's get out of here."

She nodded, "everyone is at the Founding Fathers for drinks."

"No, we'll see everyone later tonight, but for now, can we just..." he took her hand from his chest, pressing a kiss to each of her fingers and saw her lips part, affected. "I just want you to myself."

"I want that, too," she murmured, and she knew her insecurity was audible.

"Hey," Booth said, a smile in his voice but his forehead creased. When Brennan didn't know how what to say, she saw Booth figure it out. His eyebrows raised, "were you worried I'd wake up in the morning with regrets?"

She couldn't help but smile. He'd said near enough those exact words after their first kiss, just before she'd shut the door of her taxi and left him standing in the rain. She responded in kind, knowing it was true, "that would never happen."

"It never will, trust me. Last night was one of the best nights of my life." He revealed, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. "I mean it. You know that, right?"

"Mine too," Brennan agreed easily, surprising herself at just how easily. She breathed deeply, trying to still her nerves. Her hands found his collar. She tilted her head, wondering why this felt familiar. And then she remembered. "The mistletoe."

Booth looked at her, puzzled.

"Caroline was feeling puckish, remember?" She gripped his collar more roughly, pulling Booth closer, "I recall doing this seeing as you were so hesitant."

Booth remembered that kiss better than he'd ever admit to his partner. He'd only flinched at how eager she was to do it because he was worried about the flood that would be unleashed if he was actually allowed to kiss her. Could he do it without being completely swept away, embarrassing himself in front of Caroline, in front of Bones? He flushed a little.

"I remember. You were...demanding." He raised an eyebrow, suggestively.

"Christmas was at stake, Booth."

"Oh, Christmas! Of course, that was the only reason."

"Well," Bones pulled again at his collar, inching closer to his lips, "I will admit that I've always found you quite pleasing to look at. I was intrigued."

"Intrigued?" Booth breathed, his upper-hand gone, completely under her spell within a moment.

"I did want to see if that first kiss was a flake."

"A fluke," he corrected her dryly.

"I realised it wasn't." She cut off any possible response with a passionate kiss, taking Booth by surprise, pressing her hips into him. Giving in to her need, it rebounded, tripled, and then completely took over. Brennan bit down on his bottom lip, and he groaned, his mind scattered and unable to form a coherent thought.

And then Bones pulled away. Booth huffed in frustration.

"We should go before we are seen. My place is closer," she said.

She had a point, Booth realised begrudgingly, although after a kiss like that he was more than happy to lay her down on the floor and show her just how ready he was. Bones smiled at him, taking his hand. He began to think about their night together again, for the thousandth time that day; her words and touches, the way she moved beneath him. The three words that had stopped him in his tracks. He squeezed her fingers. Perhaps the privacy of her apartment would be a good thing, after all.

They drove to Brennan's apartment in comfortable silence, Brennan's hand resting on Booth's leg as he tried to focus on the road. He could feel the change in Bones, a difference in the way she was with him and it filled him with a peace he never thought he'd find. Bones wanted him. Bones loved him. He didn't know how his luck had changed, but he was grateful.

They parked and took the lift to her floor, their hands clasped together and Brennan tucked into his side, her other hand resting on his forearm. It was a small gesture but one that reminded Booth just how much his partner needed him to come home that day. Just before the doors opened, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. It's all okay, Bones. As Brennan unlocked her front door, Booth cricked his neck to the side and grimaced, rubbing the affected area with his hand.

"You should shower before your muscles seize. I have a massage setting that will be helpful," Brennan suggested, pushing the door open and dropping her keys on the hallway table.

Booth was always taken-aback by Bones' apartment, mostly for the sheer size of it but also by just how many wacky things she had on her shelves from her travels all over the world. It almost didn't make sense that such an empiricist would have fertility vases and strange looking clay masks on her walls, like faces from myths and stories. But he knew that Bones had always had that side of her just behind her own mask, the part that believed in rituals and stories as more than just anthropological mumbo-jumbo. He hoped that his friendship had helped her explore that side of her, and helped her to be okay with it. He loved every part of her, but there was a special place for that hidden side she only showed him. He watched her as she finished hanging up her coat, running her hand through her hair to keep it off her face, and he felt a rush of feeling for her envelop him.

"Hey."

She stopped, drawn to the tenor of his voice. The space between them became charged, just like the night before. She didn't want to, but she hesitated. Booth saw her apprehension, knowing why she didn't come to him straight away. He approached her slowly, placing his hands on her hips.

"You're thinking too much, Temperance."

She nodded, "I am thinking, yes." Her voice wavered, "I'm not good at this, Booth. I want to be, but I find myself feeling anxious about hurting you."

He nodded, squeezing her gently, "I get that, I really do, but this is all the stuff we get to figure out together now. That's what partners do," Booth hoped she could hear the sincerity in his voice, he needed her to feel it. He pulled her against him, nose to nose.

"I know," she breathed quietly, "I'm sorry. I'm still adjusting to the change in our relationship."

"You don't need to apologise to me," he murmured, kissing her forehead. The feel of her skin suddenly set him alight with a craving for more, her gasps against him from the previous night now too much in the past. He needed her to make those sounds again.

He kissed her, firmly, goosebumps rising all over his body as her hands slid across his lower back. He could feel his shoulders starting to ache, pain shooting down his spine as the adrenalin of the gunfight wore off and the real toll of the situation revealed itself, but he didn't stop. Brennan's hands were suddenly on his belt buckle, deftly removing it and flinging it behind her with one smooth motion. It landed behind the sofa with an unceremonious crack. Desire stirred low in Booth's body, staring into Bones' shockingly blue eyes as they held his gaze.

"You need to shower. I'm helping," Brennan said.

Her voice, utterly deadpan, seemed so at odds with her actions that Booth burst out laughing, trying to kiss her but not being able, due to the smiling curve of his mouth. He wrapped his arms around her instead, chuckling into her hair and thanking God in his head.

"I don't understand," she said, unsure but happily returning the embrace.

"I just missed you today, and I'm happy to be home," Booth answered.

Brennan could relate to both of those statements, and led him through to her bedroom and ensuite bathroom. Whilst she opened her wardrobe looking for a fresh towel, Booth hung his suit jacket on the back of the door and kicked off his shoes to place them neatly out of the way. He wasn't about to be a slob in Bones' immaculate apartment. Even though they were together now, he knew his partner would still kill him if he made a mess. Are we together? The thought bubbled to the surface. They hadn't discussed it yet, but that was purely because they'd had no time. Booth didn't know how she'd react to the discussion of labels, boyfriend, girlfriend, it all seemed a bit juvenile for what Bones meant to him. He shut the topic down for the moment. What mattered was that he loved her, and she loved him. Everything else, all of the specifics, could be figured out later. He glanced around while she continued to rummage and stopped on a black gym bag down the side of her bed. His gym bag. It had been missing for well over a year.

"Is that my bag?" He asked, and he saw what could only be described as blind panic on his partner's face.

Brennan gripped the towel in her hands with force, considering what she could say to explain. Seconds dragged between them. She should have hidden it better. She could have avoided this, "you were dead, Booth."

A silence. Booth's heart tugged at the back of his throat. With a sense of knowing, Booth lifted the bag onto the bed. It was light, almost nothing inside it, and clean with no signs of dust. It was also half-open. He unzipped it completely, the breath knocked out of him when he saw what was inside. Folded neatly in the centre of the bag was his plain, military green t-shirt from his time in service. I wore your t-shirt and it smelled like you, so much so that it was physically painful for me to keep it close, but I never took it off, she had said. Booth picked it up, unfolding it so it lay over the palms of his hands. Brennan made a sound like she was choking.

"You've had this, all this time?" Booth asked her.

"I know I should have given it back to you. I'm sorry."

All this time. When he had come back after those two weeks, when she was in Maluku and he in Afghanistan, when he was with Hannah...Bones had kept his t-shirt. His gut twisted at the thought of her pain, of her still wearing his t-shirt when they had been so far away from one another emotionally. At one point, another of his many, many mistakes, this t-shirt was probably the only way she could be close to him. The only way he had left for her.

"I'm so sorry for everything, Bones," Booth croaked, "I really am."

"You haven't done anything wrong. I should have returned that to you. It wasn't mine to keep."

He dropped the t-shirt on the bed and approached her, "I don't care about you keeping the t-shirt, I care that we were so far apart."

"We worked together nearly every day, apart from when I was in Maluku and you were in Afghanistan."

"Emotionally. Not physically."

"Oh," she said, "I understand. But it's not your fault Booth. You were trying to make things work with Hannah, you've already explained." Booth opened his mouth to try and explain some more but Brennan shushed him. "We've already discussed this. It's okay."

He wasn't sure how they had switched positions, but Booth appreciated Bones' attempt to comfort him. Maybe it really was okay. She led him to the bathroom, hanging the towel out of the way. She saw the way Booth flinched as he tried to unbutton his shirt, and she quickly intervened, batting his hands away to nimbly do it for him. He hummed contentedly at the gesture, taking the moment to appreciate the smooth bridge of her nose, her almond-shaped blue eyes focusing so acutely on her task. Her cheeks were rosy, flushed against the creamy white of her face, and Booth detected a hint of embarrassment in his partner's demeanour. Brennan felt like the act of unbuttoning his shirt was one of the most intimate things she'd ever done with another person. Making love with Booth topped that list, of course, but this was a different kind of intimacy, one of domesticity, one Brennan had never known. It was oddly humbling that such a small, seemingly insignificant act could be so meaningful. The shirt slipped from his shoulders, revealing Booth's reddening shoulder where the butt of his gun had recoiled. She touched it softly, knowing it would bruise.

"I've dealt with worse," Booth pointed out, noting her concern.

"I've seen your x-rays," she reminded him, helping him remove his vest top, losing her train of thought for a moment at the sight of his well-toned midriff, "I'm amazed you're still able to walk, Booth. Your body has been through extraordinary trauma on several occasions. You should be crippled."

"Well, I'm strong," he laughed, cheekily.

Flashes of Booth's arm snaking around her waist, pulling them firmly together and driving her over the edge was abruptly all she could thing about. His strength, his warmth – she needed it. If he had been taken from her today, she would be alone staring at herself in the mirror. Her words of love would have been an anomaly, one she would have had to carry with her always, knowing she would never say them again. Her heart would have turned away from the world, never knowing anyone else, never wanting to know anyone but Booth. It was completely illogical and she didn't think she would ever admit it aloud, but Brennan knew with certainty that her heart would never be anyone elses. Only Booth's.

"I love you," Brennan had never thought she could mean it so completely. She knew her feelings, she knew them to be real and true, but this was so much more than the chemicals synthesised in her brain. "I want you to know that I have no doubts about that. When I hesitate, I am not questioning my feelings for you in any way, I am only managing my anxieties about hurting you and ruining this."

Booth was surprised, and exhilarated that she was so forthcoming. He did his best to keep his emotions in check despite how her words quickened his heart, "it's okay. I get it." He could manage no more than a murmur.

Brennan undressed, enjoying Booth's eyes on her as, piece by piece, her clothes fell away, revealing more and more of her body. Words no longer needed, Booth joined her and together they stepped into the large shower and closed the sliding door. Hot water and air quickly filled the room, Brennan sorting the massage setting as she had promised. The water drummed into Booth's aching muscles, his head bowed to allow the pressure to fall on his trapezoid muscles and shoulder blades. He moaned appreciatively at the sensation, closing his eyes. Under the spray, Brennan wrapped her arms around him, nestling into the nook of his neck and Booth reciprocated, enclosing her tightly against his chest. Minutes passed in this way, Bones and Booth surrounded by each other and steam and the steady sound of running water. Bones' lips pressed against his skin, her tongue darting out to taste as the water ran in streams along the grooves of his body. He exhaled shakily, aroused by her tongue as it swept up the tendon of his neck to his earlobe. Unable to hold back, he tilted her head towards him and captured her in a kiss, pushing her back against the wall. Brennan gasped as the cool tiles stung her back, which only drove Booth to kiss her harder, needing more of her to try and quench the desire that felt like it could blister him from the inside out. He pressed his knee in between her legs, and Brennan opened for him, noises of encouragement escaping her against his mouth. One hand planted beside her to steady himself, whilst the other wandered freely across the line of her collarbone, dancing over the supple flesh of her breasts and brushing her nipples with feather-light touches that made Brennan cry out, frustrated. Booth didn't relent, trailing his fingers down her abdomen, following the curve of her hip bone, down to the innermost part of her thigh, feeling the porcelain skin that was almost too soft to be real. He could barely think straight, desperate to be with her, to be as close as possible but also wanting her to writhe beneath him, begging to make her come undone. He nudged her cheek to the side with his nose, licking and kissing his way down her neck, all the while teasing with his fingers, barely touching her at all.

"Booth, touch me, please," Bones' voice cracked, thick with want.

How could he say no? Returning to kiss her lips, he swirled her clit gently before dropping his hand down and slipping two fingers inside of her. She gasped, digging her nails into his shoulder. He moved achingly slowly, wanting her to build gradually because God, he needed this. He needed reminding that she was here, and that she was his, and that they had time to savour every moment together. No part of this would be rushed. She needed to know that he had fought so hard today for her, to make sure he came back.

"I love you, Temperance. You have no idea," he murmured urgently, searching her expression for understanding. He saw his own need reflected in her eyes, "I want you to feel it."

Brennan dug her nails deeper into his shoulders, "show me."

He removed his fingers, and lifted her up. Her legs hooked around his waist, her back pressed flat against the tiles with one of Booth's arms supporting her weight. She felt his tip at her core as he rocked his hips, tantalisingly close to where she wanted him. She was laid bare to his gaze, and he saw everything. The dilation of her pupils and the bloom of crimson on her cheeks and chest, the muscles in her arms tensing as she tried to pull him into her, the flutter of her breath as it passed her lips. Every minutiae of her screamed for him and Booth drank it in, everything he'd ever wanted in front of him. He lowered her onto him, groaning deeply. The water on his side, the feel of her hot and wet around him and then her clutching at him like she'd never let go...euphoria was not a word Booth used lightly. Here, it was the only word that made sense. Bones cupped his face with one hand, the other winding around him as she began to move her hips, kissing him in between gasping breaths. Her eyes scoured every part of him she could see, always being dragged back to the swirling dark pools of his eyes that knew her so well. Booth thrust harder, faster, watching her pleasure build, and in awe of the way she moved in just the right way, driving him crazy. He'd never felt more alive than now, with her, sweat mixing with water and steam, tasting the rivulets of water on her skin as he nipped with his teeth. This connection with Bones was what kept him going through all of those years, the fighting, the heartbreak and missing each other, passing like ships in the night when they should have collided like they were now. She kept him grounded whilst simultaneously raising him to new heights. Euphoria didn't cover it. Booth could see that Bones was up in flames, open and vulnerable, trusting that he would be there. The side of her that only he got to see. He kissed her swollen lips.

"This is all I want," Booth confessed, "you and me. It's always you, Bones, it always comes back to you."

"I love you," she whispered in response.

"I knew. I've always known."

"So did I."

All of their secrets spilled out as Brennan stilled, the calm before the storm, and with one revolution of her hips she collapsed around him, bucking and moaning his name until it ceased to be recognisable, turning into wordless sighs. Booth watched her fall apart, entranced, her pleasure feeding his until he willingly followed her over the edge. She covered his cries with a kiss.

After a few moments, Booth let her go. Brennan's legs shook, and not wanting to be separate from Booth in any way she only let him go so far. He leant against her, hips pressed together, one hand lazily tracing the line of her jaw.

"You knew?" His voice betrayed his curiosity.

"Yes," Brennan replied immediately. "Always."

He smiled, "but you weren't ready."

"I was not ready. But I am now," she grinned at him, "and I was right when I hypothesised our love making would be very satisfying. I shouldn't be surprised, I suppose."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Booth said, sultry, kissing the corner of her mouth. He rather liked the view he had of his partner, tousled and wet and freshly loved.

"Not because of you, Booth. I shouldn't be surprised my hypothesis was correct, because I'm always right."

He feigned offence, tapping her behind with the palm of his hand, "you are not always right, Bones."

She cut him off, kissing him deeply, sweeping her tongue across his bottom lip in a surprising, heated gesture. And then she squeezed past him, leaving the shower and grabbing the towel, "I'm right in this instance." She looked over her shoulder, the tiniest smirk playing on her face. Booth thought about it for a moment and then acquiesced, submitting.

She really was right this time.

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