I can only apologise for the delay. I've had a deadline for my MA and that had to come first. A bit more smut (because come on, there's no way Bones and Booth didn't spend their first few days together in bed) and also a bit of Angela. I hope you enjoy!

"Are you sure I didn't do something wrong earlier?" Brennan asked.

She and Booth were sat at the bar in The Founding Fathers, beers in hand, winding down after they and the rest of the team had loaded Vincent Nigel Murray's casket into a hearse for transport back to England. Brennan was worried that she had broken some unspoken rule about flowers when she had arrived with a potted plant for Vincent. The others had not been as accepting of the gesture as she had wanted. Even though Booth reassured her, and Angela did too, she still felt like she'd made a mistake somewhere and couldn't see what it was. She clenched the neck of her bottle of beer in her hand.

"Of course not, Bones." Booth answered, "it was a very sweet gesture."

"Everyone looked at me strangely, like I'd done something wrong."

Booth took a swig of his beer, trying to find the right words to explain. It had been the surprise of Bones being slightly later than everyone else, and carrying a potted plant when funeral hearses were usually covered with wreaths or normal bouquets of flowers. It wasn't wrong, it was just different and everyone knew that it was Brennan's own way of showing her respect for Vincent.

He met her puzzled eyes, "they were touched by what you did."

"I didn't touch anyone, Booth."

"Not actually touching, like this," he replied gently, placing his hand on her knee. He liked how she quickly covered it with one of her own, "I mean that they appreciated and were moved by your actions. You took time to bring flowers, to show your respect for a friend. Sometimes when people are affected like that, they don't always communicate clearly. I promise you that you did everything right."

Brennan looked down at their hands clasped together, processing. Booth said nothing, taking the moment of quiet to observe her, drink her in after a particularly hellish day. It was still difficult to believe that roughly four hours ago, he'd had her pressed up against the wall in her shower. To think it hadn't even been a full day since they'd made love for the first time. This time last night, they had just been partners and friends, but now, they were more. Booth knew that this was good, better than anything he'd ever had before. He hoped that Bones felt the same.

"It took longer than I anticipated to pick the right flowers," Brennan admitted.

Booth knew it wasn't possible to melt but that's what it felt like to him. That thoughtful, soft side of her was showing more and more and it wasn't just him who could see it now. His body stirred, despite his exhaustion. Brennan saw the change in his gaze, wondered briefly why it had come so suddenly and then quickly decided that it didn't matter.

"My place?"

"Yeah."

Booth paid their bill, and then arm in arm, they left.

They barely made it to the door of Brennan's apartment.

Booth undid her blouse as he nipped at the base of her neck. Brennan quickly removed his belt, meeting resistance at the buttons of his shirt. Frustrated, she tugged and his shirt flew open, the tip tap of buttons falling on the floor. Booth couldn't care less about his clothes. He'd let Bones rip them all off him if that's what she wanted. He got rid of his vest, slipping out of his trousers and pulling her tightly against him. His hands quickly unclipped her bra and threw it behind them. The feel of her skin against his chest elicited a deep groan, his desire snowballing. Brennan ground her hips against him, moving him towards the sofa and then pushed him down.

"You're exhausted, Booth," Brennan's tone left no room for argument.

Booth decided to argue anyway, "I'm not."

She quirked an eyebrow, smiling salaciously, "are you sure?"

"Bones."

Booth had never needed to touch her so badly, to need her to touch him, to encompass him completely. Six years of longing and frustration reared its head, and it would not slow down. How was it only their first day? Brennan saw his hunger and leant forwards, one hand beside his head to support her weight. Their foreheads touched, that same indescribable charge igniting and tingling across the surface of her face. Booth pulled her onto his lap, her knees either side of his hips.

"I wanted to..." she protested in between kisses, reaching down between them to touch him, "well, you know."

Booth saw her mouth part, and he instantly knew what she meant. The thought of her mouth around him, her tongue...he grew impossibly harder in her hand.

"I want that too, but I need this more," he rasped. With nothing to hold his love back, he was swept away. He didn't want to come on too strong, but he also had no idea how to stop. "I just want you, Temperance. Please."

Brennan understood, she felt it too. It could only be described as a yearning, a sensation she felt deep in the recesses of her mind, and it ordered her to bring Booth closer, to kiss him harder, and to slide down onto him without hesitation. He exhaled sharply, caressing her and holding her around the waist. Brennan had never seen his eyes so dark. They probed for understanding, for acceptance. She gave it willingly, moving over him, revolving her hips in small circles. Booth did nothing but watch, giving himself over to her, finding freedom in his lack of control. There were plenty of days in his life where he could've died, but none had been as terrifying as this one. Broadsky could have snatched him from everything, from what would undoubtedly be the best moments of his life. Booth couldn't imagine only being with Bones, his Bones, once. He needed more than that. Once would never be enough. One thousand times would never be enough. He would never be done, not with her.

"I love you," he murmured, the words finding their way out of his mouth as if spoken by a hidden force. Her hips continued in their slow circles, deliciously deliberate in their intentions.

Brennan kissed him, winding an arm around his shoulders, the other hand in the crook of his neck. Booth felt the tickle of her hair on his cheek, the warmth of her body against his. He wanted to disappear from the outside world and never know anything else.

"I love you too," she whispered, and her gyrations intensified with the same urgency.

Her breathing became more laboured, pulling Booth's lips to hers like he was the only oxygen she needed. He shifted his hips, and groaned instantly at the new angle, the combination of that and Bones' movements quickly bringing him to the precipice. Brennan looked on as he gritted his teeth, as his eyelids fluttered closed, groaning quietly as he dragged his fingers down her back. And then he was falling, every nerve alive with pleasure. His face flushed with heat and his eyes sought hers again, only to find that she was already watching, hungrily observing every facet of his release. It was too much and not enough all at once. She didn't pause her movements, feeling herself getting close, too intoxicated by the way Booth trembled beneath her to stop. He clutched at her, holding her like he'd never touched anything so precious. It was all she needed. Brennan hugged Booth closer, tugging on his hair as she gasped roughly against his cheek, making noises she didn't know were possible. He guided her as she rocked, heart thundering in his chest. And then gradually, their embrace slowed to a stop, and they were still. Booth remained enveloped in Brennan's arms, trying to calm his racing pulse.

"You must be exhausted now."

Booth chuckled warmly, kissing the soft skin beneath his cheek repeatedly until she squirmed, ticklish, "I'm officially beat."

Brennan glanced at the clock on the kitchen counter, "it's past midnight. We should sleep."

Booth hummed, not really wanting to move but also thinking that crawling into bed sounded like heaven. Deciding for them, Brennan removed herself from his grasp and took his hand, pulling him towards the bedroom.

"I'll be right back," she said, ducking into the ensuite.

Booth trudged over to the bed, the momentum of the day fading. His limbs felt heavy, his back and shoulders sore and tender to touch. He would be stiff tomorrow for sure. I've seen your x-rays, Bones' voice rang in his head. Maybe she was right. He'd probably wake up in the morning unable to move and all she'd do would be look down at him and say I told you so. He smirked, stifling a laugh and then smiled for real when he realised that he'd wake up in bed with his partner. His t-shirt was still on the bed, and he put it on without thinking and crawled under the covers. Damn, Bones' bed was soft. He was used to his lumpy mattress from hell, not a bed that was literally made from clouds. He groaned in contentment.

Brennan heard the groan from the bathroom, and went to see what was wrong.

"Booth?"

He stretched out, feeling like a cat on a warm windowsill, "Is your bed a marshmallow or something, Bones?"

"No, that would be highly impractical," she replied, grabbing a silk night dress from her chest of drawers and slipping it over her head. "I assume you find my mattress comfortable."

"Probably the most comfortable bed I've ever been in."

Brennan looked at him sprawled in her bed and her breath caught when she realised he was wearing that t-shirt. For a second she couldn't move. Seeing Booth wearing the t-shirt she'd cradled and sobbed into was jarring, the painful past and present merging without warning. He saw her expression, quickly understood and sat up.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"No, no. Booth," Brennan cut him off, "it's alright. Really, it's fine."

"I didn't think."

"It's okay."

They shared a moment, and then Brennan moved to her wardrobe, "would you like some trousers? I have some spare that will fit you."

"Sure," he replied.

She handed them to him, slipping beneath the covers. Booth quickly wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her hair, inhaling deeply. He felt Brennan relax into him, her cheek resting on his shoulder. It was the comfort Brennan knew she'd been missing through all of the years she had been too afraid to act. She allowed herself to enjoy it, the steady thrum of his heart lulling her into sleep. Half-dreams swirled in her mind as she drifted towards unconsciousness. Surrounded by warmth, and comfort and hope. Surrounded by Booth.

She was lost in unfamiliar depths, but for once, she was not afraid.

Light flooded the bedroom at sunrise but Brennan was glad that Booth didn't stir. The previous day had exhausted him, physically and mentally. She could see the tension in his face as he slept, although she had to admit he looked better than she expected he would. She didn't know how he dealt with these situations again and again, especially when there was an emotional component, like with Broadsky. Perhaps it was his military training, or his experiences in the FBI...or maybe Booth was just one of those people who could withstand anything. Brennan suspected that it was the latter.

She rose from the bed, careful not to jostle him, and snatched a final look as she exited the bedroom. His forehead was creased, as if he sensed that Brennan had left, but he didn't wake. She closed the door silently and padded over to the kitchen to make coffee. Her shoulders ached, most likely from stress. She prepared herself for various aches and pains over the coming days as a psychosomatic response to trauma. She would have to find a way to distract herself. She smiled as the kettle boiled, knowing for sure that Booth would be able to help with that. As she curled up on the sofa, mug in hand, she thought about how it no longer caused her discomfort to think of Booth in a romantic way. Before, when she had been so sure she could never be what he needed, imagining kissing him would cause a sharp ache in her stomach. It was difficult to stop thinking about it, a kind of addictive pain that always left an intense aftertaste of pleasure. That feeling had tortured her for years as her feelings had grown, and so had her fear. The dreams had been the most vindictive. She had dreamt of being with Booth more times than she could remember, some were sexual, of course, but others had been small snippets of their lives. Holding his hand, a kiss, or sometimes just the knowledge that they were together, and he loved her. She would feel so complete in those dreams. Then she would wake, and she was hollow again. But now, there was no pain. That ache still existed but it had changed into something much more enjoyable. Brennan sipped her coffee, happy, reminding herself that it wasn't a dream this time. Seeley Booth really was asleep in her bed.

She would have to go into the lab later. They had no active cases with the FBI, but other remains still needed identifying. Booth probably had a full day of meetings with his superiors. Every gunshot he fired meant a stack of paperwork and several long conversations justifying his actions. It was the part of the job he disliked the most, the part that was most cumbersome and tedious. She could understand his annoyance with it, especially after such a stressful ordeal. Her stomach twisted at the thought that he would be miserable come evening. She shook her head, reaching for her phone on the coffee table in front of her. A text from Angela, asking if they could have lunch together. Brennan replied quickly, eager to check in on her very pregnant friend. It was sometimes difficult to believe that Angela would have a child soon, and that she was happily married, when her previous opinion about monogamous relationships had been so negative. It showed how much people could change if given the chance. She smiled down at her clasped hands. You would know, she thought to herself.

"Did your coffee crack a joke?"

Booth's voice washed over her like a welcome breeze. He stood in the doorway of the bedroom, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed. His eyes glowed with something Brennan couldn't discern, but she liked whatever it was very much. Her heart began to thump harder.

"No, that is literally impossible," she said, aware that he was joking but saying so on the chance he wasn't, "I was just thinking."

"I like it when you think," Booth responded wryly, smirking. He strode towards her, rounding the coffee table and leaning down. One hand cupped the back of her neck as he abruptly pulled her in for a kiss. Brennan was surprised by the depth of emotion she felt in the kiss, still adjusting to the fact that things like kissing and sex could be more than just physical. Her hands sought him immediately, reaching up to trace the shape of his bicep, up over his shoulder until her fingers curved along the shell of his ear.

"Sorry," he whispered, short of breath, "I was just checking that yesterday was real."

"It was most certainly real, but feel free to check again," Brennan pulled him down next to her on the sofa. She quickly threw her legs over his knees.

They nestled there for a few minutes, Booth pressing her as close as he could. In the comfortable silence, his mind wandered to the night before. They'd been in this exact spot. His grip tightened around her. Wordlessly, he kissed her again, his fingers skimming underneath her night dress. Her hands grabbed at him, gasping as he inched up her thigh. Foreheads pressed together, lips brushing as she breathed his name.

And then a phone rang from the bedroom.

They both groaned. Disappointed, Booth gave her leg a squeeze and left her on the sofa. Brennan wasn't much interested in her coffee any more. She felt flushed and mildly irritated at the interruption, even though she knew Booth would have to go into work at some point. She supposed she should dress and head to the lab. She stood and put her mug in the sink.

"That was Hacker. I've gotta go in," Booth sighed, snapping his phone shut. "He wants a detailed report, and an in-person debrief. It'll take all day."

Brennan leant against the sink, her hands either side of her body, "I know you don't enjoy these things."

"Having to defend myself all day is pretty tiring, yeah," he approached her, placing his hands on either side of hers. "Plus, there's somewhere else I'd rather be today."

"I wouldn't know about that, Booth."

He realised she genuinely thought he meant somewhere else. Her eyes were trained on his face, perplexed by him.

"Yes you would," Booth murmured.

Recognition. A smile, shyer than Booth was used to.

"That is very sweet of you," Brennan said, kissing him, "but we should go."

Booth's voice rumbled in his throat as she slipped past him, pulling her night dress up over her head and leaving him to stare after her. He lost the capacity for speech at the sight of her so confident and sexy, her hair glinting gold and auburn as she disappeared. He took a deep breath. This day was going to drag.

Booth stopped in the car park of the Jeffersonian, noting how tension rolled off of Bones' body the moment the engine cut out. She gripped her bag tightly, her knuckles strained and white. He wanted to turn the car around and spend the day looking after her. She had been back to the lab since Vincent's death, but the situation with Broadsky had been live and ongoing. Now, there was a ghost they were going to have to live with.

"Are you sure you don't want me to drop you home? You don't have to go in there if you don't want to," Booth probed. Brennan turned to him with deeply worried eyes.

"I have work to do. There are other remains that need identifying," she didn't sound sure, and Booth covered her hand with his.

"I'm just checking if you need more time away. I'm used to this sort of stuff, I've lost plenty of friends, but you're not. Those remains in storage can wait."

Brennan began to feel irritated and unbuckled her seatbelt, "Someone has to care about those remains, Booth. It's my job."

He could tell he was losing her. He turned in his seat so he was facing her as much as was possible, "I know you care about all of those people, Bones, but I'm more concerned about you. You are my priority right now."

She paused, knowing that he was just looking out for her. Like he always did. Part of her really did want to go home, to curl up in bed with Booth and forget about the real world. But she knew he had a full day of meetings. They had responsibilities. She gripped his hand more tightly, brushing her thumb across his knuckles.

"I'm sorry for being defensive," she said.

"I get it, Bones. I really do. You know I'm always on your side," Booth urged quietly. "How about I pick you up tonight?"

"Yes," Brennan agreed, desire flaring at the notion of what would follow once they returned to her apartment. "I'd like that."

They shared a firm kiss as a seal of agreement, a gentle I love you whispered in the space between their lips, and then Brennan exited the car. Booth watched until she was out of sight, wondering if he should have taken her home anyway, and then made his way to the Hoover building.

Brennan had a productive morning. She made considerable progress in the identification of a set of remains from the Great War. She felt calmer, though she realised that the deep ache in her chest was down to the fact that she missed Booth. Her mind would wander to him nestled against her, his lips pressing against her collarbone, whispering that he was there. She wished it were possible that they could spend the day together. Although, she was also looking forward to lunch with Angela. No one else knew about her and Booth, and it would be good to be able to talk about it with someone. Angela had more experience with relationships and how they should be navigated. Some advice would be helpful.

Brennan arrived at the diner at noon to find Angela already sat down, hands clasped around a steaming hot tea. She smiled, attempting to stand but Brennan gestured she should stay sitting.

"Hey sweetie," Angela greeted her, looking relieved that she didn't have to try and get up after all, "sorry I can't hug you right now. I am basically a blimp."

"It's fine Ang, how are you feeling?" Brennan asked as she sat.

Angela huffed, sipping her tea, "I'm getting sick of decaff tea and coffee. You know it's basically just weird tasting hot water, right? It would also be nice to not have to get up to pee every six minutes during the night."

"The baby's head will be pressing on your bladder, though I assure you that you will get less sleep once you give birth." Brennan replied, signalling to the waitress for coffee.

"Thanks, that's very helpful," Angela grumbled, rolling her eyes. She changed her tune, "but more importantly, how are you?"

Brennan tried to hide her smile, but it crept upon her face anyway. How was she? There was not a single word that could describe her feelings. Ecstatic, overjoyed, worried, anxious, needy...she decided to go with a statement.

"I'm...very much in love with Booth."

Angela choked on her tea. Brennan frowned.

"Did I say something wrong?"

"No!" Angela nearly yelped, recovering, "Sweetie, no, of course not. I just wasn't expecting you to be so open about that."

Brennan's cheeks warmed, "I tell you everything."

"Oh and I'm glad, Brennan, trust me. I'm just..." her voice caught with emotion, "I'm thrilled. Do you know how long I've been watching you two dance around each other? It's been hell, honestly. Six years of hell."

A waitress brought Brennan a cup and filled it with black coffee. Brennan thanked her. She wasn't quite sure that she understood Angela.

"I don't know if it's been six years, certainly it's been three of four," she bartered. Angela shook her head vehemently.

"From the moment you two met. From the moment you saw each other, it was done, Booth just figured it out sooner than you did."

"We hated each other, Angela, I slapped him!"

"Was that before or after you kissed him outside that dive bar?" Angela quirked an eyebrow, loving how much Brennan fought her on something that was so clearly not true, "Please, there is a very fine line between love and hate. You just couldn't see which side of the line you were really on."

Brennan answered eventually, "The slap came after I kissed him that first time."

Angela chuckled, watching her best friend relive that memory for a moment, "have you told him?"

Another frown, "Booth remembers the slap. I've apologised."

"Have you told him that you love him?" Angela spoke more clearly.

Brennan cleared her throat, "yes, several times."

A sound came from Angela's mouth that Brennan could only categorise as a squeal. She flinched at the sharpness. Angela rolled her eyes again, unapologetic.

"Excuse me for caring!" She laughed, and then she reached across the table to squeeze Brennan's hand, "I'm so happy for you, and for Booth. You've come so far, Brennan. I mean, I'll admit I'm disappointed that Booth is finally off the market. If he hadn't been so into you, I definitely would've tried to jump him."

"Angela, you're married. And pregnant." Brennan couldn't help but laugh a little.

"Exactly. Hence, why I'm living vicariously through you."

Brennan shook her head, chidingly, unable to hide her amusement. It made her happy that Angela was so pleased. She had told her a long time ago that Brennan was missing out by avoiding monogamous relationships. It had not yet been two days since she and Booth had made love for the first time, and already she understood. She felt the persistent ache in her chest grow, wondering what Booth was doing. She hadn't heard from him since he'd dropped her at the Jeffersonian, but she hadn't expected to. His schedule for the day was full. Still, she wondered if she should send him a message.

"I would actually like your advice about something," Brennan was oddly nervous, but she knew Angela was the best person to ask. "If you don't mind."

"Sure, anything. What's up?"

Brennan couldn't help but think of Booth on the steps of the Hoover, his eyes full of tears, mouth set in a grim line as she rejected him. Now she knew what it was like to be his, the memory stung even deeper. She took a deep breath.

"Shortly before Booth went to Afghanistan, he asked me to give him a chance."

Angela's head tilted, "a chance?"

"He asked for a romantic relationship with me. We kissed."

Angela placed her cup down, mouth hanging open, "seriously? Oh my god. Why didn't you tell me?"

Brennan shrugged, feeling over-exposed, "I turned him down, Ang. I was too afraid that I would ruin it somehow."

There was a brief silence as Angela let Brennan's words sink in.

"You thought you'd lose him completely," Angela nodded, reading her mind, "sweetie, I'm so sorry."

"It was my own fault. I didn't give him the chance he deserved, and then he had Hannah. It was very complicated," Brennan finished her coffee, trying to keep her emotions in check. "Now, I'm concerned that I'll hurt him again. I'm consumed with worry."

Angela's heart broke for her friend, seeing her so full of fear. Brennan understood her gaze and averted her eyes.

"Who asked this time? Was it Booth who asked you guys to take the next step?"

Brennan shook her head, "No, it was me."

"You asked him?"

"It wasn't as straightforward as that. We were discussing our history, and I realised that it was the right time. We'd already talked about the possibility of a relationship after Hannah left, and suddenly, I felt that there was nothing holding us back." Brennan felt breathless, heart racing, and filled with hope, "He felt the same."

"He never stopped loving you," Angela said. "You could see it."

Brennan didn't respond, tucking her hair behind her ears. Angela took it as a sign.

"You were open and honest with Booth that night. It brought you together. You've got to keep being open with him, even when it's difficult and scary. But also remember that he loves you for you, Brennan. He always has, he doesn't want you to change who you are," Angela patted her hand, trying to ease her fingers off the coffee cup she was nearly crushing.

"I know he does," Brennan admitted.

"Then go where the evidence leads you, and don't overthink."

In theory, they were simple instructions. Brennan believed that with time she'd be able to apply them to her and Booth, and that she'd be able to follow them.

Her phone buzzed. A message from Booth.

I'll pick you up at 7? Was thinking we could order in.

Sure, I'll wait outside. Brennan hesitated, I'm thinking of you.

"Booth?" Angela asked.

Brennan nodded, "We're having dinner later."

"I bet you are," she replied, salaciously.

It was Brennan's turn to roll her eyes. She didn't always understand sarcasm, but Angela made it difficult to ignore.

I'm thinking of you too, Bones. I love you.

Three words. Knowing they came from Booth was a reminder of everything she might have missed, of everything she hadn't experienced yet. She craved his company, painfully. She replied to him quickly, taking Angela's words into account and hoped that he would be happy with her continued honesty.

I love you too, Booth. I can't wait to see you.

I'd love to hear your thoughts. Pop me a little review :)