BOOTH

Behind my bedroom door, I prowl the room like a caged animal.

Caged… trapped… without control… helpless…

I can't protect us. I can't protect Bones. Broadsky, at this very second, could be taking up cover in any of a dozen or more apartments directly across the street or the alleyway from mine or he could be on a roof blocks away. We're sitting ducks and we wouldn't even know he'd fired a shot until it was too late.

Picking up my gun off the bedside table, I cross the room to the window. Easing back the blinds, gun at the ready, my eyes move from apartment-to-apartment to the roofs then street. I know Broadsky won't be out there waiting. He talks a good game, but at the end of the day, he is a coward. It is one thing to pick off a person from a half mile away and quite another to look them in the eye and kill them. It's not about justice or saving lives for the man Broadsky's become. It's about the power. It's about feeling like God.

But he's made a mistake: He's made this personal between him and me. The only reason I didn't rip his throat out with my bare hands when he'd mentioned my son was because the threat had been directed at my life, not Parker's. Today, though, he'd put Bones' life in danger. On any other day... I don't know how many times I have thanked God that I didn't follow my normal behavior and she'd been spared. It could have been her… Might still be.

Broadsky was never going to get that chance, not as long as I have a breath in my body. Tomorrow, one way or the other, this will come to an end.

With a heavy sigh I let the blinds fall back into place and cross the room to my bedroom door. I've been resisting the urge to check on Bones all night, out of respect for her privacy, but when the image of Bones on the floor, blood pooling around her floats through my mind - as it has many, many times since the squintern died - I know there's no way I'll be able to sleep until I see with my own eyes that she is here and safe. Quietly cracking open the door, I peek my head out, not wanting to startle her. She's left a lamp on in the living room which casts enough light over the sofa so I can clearly see her, laying on her back, one arm across her stomach, the other splayed above her head.

I let out a long, low breath I didn't even know I'd been holding and the tension keeping my muscles taut begins to ease. There's something about Bones that centers me when she's near. She never let's us get too far off base or for the problem get so big that we can't see the solution. The solution here is an obvious one: I've got to let go of what could have happened today and turn all my focus on what has to happen tomorrow. I can't give Broadsky an edge… of any kind.

"Plus, you have to kill Broadsky. You need your sleep."

I laugh, silently, then step back and close my bedroom door. Bones is never wrong, so knowing she is safe and sleeping soundly, I set the gun back down on my bedside table and crawl into bed.

Sleep didn't come quickly or easily, but I finally faded away.

4:47 AM…

"Do you love me?"

"Yeah. Do you want me to prove it to you?"

"Mmm. If you're not too sleepy…"

I'm torn from the dream by the sound of my bedroom door clicking open. In the blink of an eye, I have my gun in hand, cocked and pointed.

"I'm sorry," Bones gasps, her eyes wide and hands held high as though they would have offered protection against a bullet if I'd pulled the trigger. My heart hammers against my ribs, adrenaline coursing through me. I fight back the urge to ask her what the hell she was thinking. I could have shot her and the thought makes my wildly beating heart drop to my toes, making it hard to focus.

"No, I'm sorry." I pull back the sheet and blanket with my left hand, my gun still cocked and pointed. "I'm sorry. Did you… Did you hear something?" She looks back towards the living room.

"No... No."

"You want me to put the gun away?"

"Yes."

I slowly sit the gun down. Slightly more alert, I make sure I'm presentable after the dream, then I look at her… really look at her. Her eyes are wide, haunted and I can see the trails on her cheeks where her tears have fallen. "Okay, what's wrong?" She walks slowly towards me, as though each step is taking enormous energy.

"He kept saying 'Don't make me go.'"

"What?" My eyes narrow on her. I don't understand what she is trying to tell me, but I better figure it out fast.

"Vincent. He was looking at me and saying 'Don't make me leave.' He said that…" Her head tilts again, distress drawing her brows together and bringing tears to her eyes. When she speaks, her voice is quavering with emotion. "…That he loved being there. Why would he think that I'm the one making him leave? What kind of person am I?" Looking away from me, her tears well over, making my heart ache.

"No. Come here," I tell her, taking her hand and drawing her to the bed. "No, no, no, no, no, Bones," I insist as she sits next to me. "You got that all wrong, alright? You got it all wrong."

"No, I… I heard him. You did, too," she dismisses with a sad sigh, as more tears fall. "'Don't make me leave.' That's what he said."

"He wasn't talking to you," I assure quietly. She shakes her head, disbelieving.

"I was the only one there… and you. He wasn't… He wasn't talking to you."

"He was talking to God," I explain with absolute certainty, even knowing she'd deny the suggestion. "He didn't want to die." Bones immediately shakes her head.

"No. Vincent was like me, Booth. He was an atheist."

"Okay. Then he was talking to the universe then." Another tear drops as she struggles to understand and I resist the urge to thumb it away. Bones will come to me when she's ready for physical comfort and not until. "He didn't want to go. He wasn't ready, Bones. He wanted to stay." My words, meant to soothe, to explain, to remove her burden from her shoulders, seems to have done exactly the opposite. Her face crumples and more tears fall.

"Well, if there was a God, then he would have let Vincent stay here with us," she protests.

"That's not how it works." Her shoulders sag under the weight of her emotions. She sways as though to lay down on the bed, then straightens again, pulling in a shaky breath, looking at me with weary, uncertain eyes and nods her head towards the bed.

"Can I just…".

"Yeah. That's why I'm here." I wrap her in my embrace and sink back on the bed, tightening my arm around her shoulders while she sobs. "I'm right here," I assure again, lightly rubbing her back, offering the only comfort I can. "I know. It's hard." She draws in a deep shuddering breath, then settles against me while I continue the steady stroke of my hand. "I'm right here."

I don't know how long I've been holding her and mumbling quiet words of assurance – five minutes? Ten? Long enough to wonder if she's fallen asleep and for my back to start reminding me my legs are still hanging off the bed. I debate with myself. On one hand, if I take a chance and move us, I may wake her up and on the other, it will be difficult to hunt down Broadsky if I look like a question mark. I lift my head to scout out the best way to move us while not disturbing her, finding none.

"Bones," I whisper. I'm shocked to see her head immediately tip back so she can see me. "Don't you think we'll be more comfortable actually in the bed?" Pushing up on her arms, she checks out the situation herself. She turns her head to look at me and parts her lips to speak. Whatever she was going to say stalls on her lips when her eyes skim over my lips then double back.

"Booth…" I don't need to know what's on her mind because her eyes say it all. Somewhere in the back of my head I'd known this is how the night would end. We'd been edging closer and closer for months now and, more importantly, had stopped denying it's what we want: A chance of a future together.

Still, I'm scared half out of my mind.

Not enough to stop me from wanting her.

God, I want her.

My hand has a mind of its own, burying itself in her hair while cupping the back of her head. Her eyes drop to my lips again, but this time she closes in and melds her lips to mine. I inhale, sharply, then groan softly as Bones kisses me with abandon. My head reels, my heart pounds…

And when she pulls me in hint, I roll with her, moaning as my body surges to life when I settle between her legs. It takes everything I have to tear my lips from hers, but I don't want there to be any misunderstanding.

"I'm not interested in just sex here, Bones," I tell her. With a helpless groan, I kiss her again when she palms the back of my neck and urges me downward.

"I know," she answers, with a smile I can feel against my lips. I lose my train of thought when she gathers the bottom of my t-shirt and shoves it upward in hint. I press up on my knees and strip it off. By the time I've dropped it on the floor, Bones has risen up onto her knees eager to touch me. I suck in a sharp breath and close my eyes when she drags her fingers down my torso from shoulder-to-hips. "Your physicality is very pleasing." Her throaty laugh elicits a groan from me and I grow so hard my erection pulses.

"Bones," I breathe her name. I've dreamed of feeling her hands against my bare flesh for years, often enough that a couple of times I've wondered if I've built it up in my mind so much that the real thing would be a letdown… if that time ever came.

My imagination hasn't even come close.

As her fingers dance over my chest and abdomen leaving a trail of heat behind, my muscles jump, my pulse pounds and my heart races. I zero in on her lips for another heart stopping kiss. Her hands whisper over my back and my hands, which clearly have a mind of their own, slip beneath the sweatshirt she's wearing to find some skin of their own.

"You know what we're talking about here, right?" I whisper between each touch of our lips. "You and me and—"

"Love and life," she adds, slipping her hands around my back. I whisper my lips over her cheek then touch them to the side of her neck while gathering the bottom of my sweatshirt she's wearing. She raises her arms and I ease it over her head then toss it without ceremony to the floor. I may have to bronze that sweatshirt tomorrow but tonight it's in my way.

"And fate." I have to quickly hide my smile, when I reveal a practical bra that she wears for what I am sure is a very practical reason.

It's the sexiest thing I've ever seen, because it's Bone's breasts spilling over the top of the cups. Reverently, I trace the undersides with the back of my fingers and watch as the peaks beneath harden.

"I still don't believe in fate-" she reminds me, breathily.

"And I still do," I counter, raining soft kisses over her shoulder as I release the clasps on her bra then toss it aside as well.

"—but I believe in you," she finishes as though I'd never interrupted. "You're a good man, Booth. I love you."

My head snaps up and my eyes flicker back-and-forth over her face. Head spinning and questioning if I'd heard what I thought I had or if I'd fantasized it, I search her face and eyes for confirmation. The matter-of-fact tone coated with a layer of 'how do you not know that' for good measure then coupled with her tendency to just blurt out her thoughts without first filtering them… Well, it was all just so perfectly…

Bones.

And so is the way she tilts her head now, those blue eyes filling with self-doubt.

"Did I say it wrong?"

I've never been immune to Bones' vulnerability and with my guard already down, my response is… primal.

She yelps when I suddenly lift her and fold our bodies over but is laughing by the time she is laying on her back beneath me. I smother her laugh with my lips. It's one of those times I'm thankful Bones has difficulty interpreting emotion because this kiss is passionate, demanding her participation… And thoroughly possessive, something I'm fairly sure she'd protest if she knew. Instead, she returns the kiss with abandon, giving as much as she takes, teasing me with her touch, taking me past desire to primal need.

"You're happy," she laughs softly. I lower myself back down on both arms. Nodding slowly, I caress her jawline with my thumb.

"Yeah," I whisper. "I am."

"Booth." It's the huskiness of her voice that drives me from my thoughts. Only then do I feel her hands – one on the back of my neck, one on the small of my back – urging me downwards. I don't bother to conceal my groan when our bodies meld together from chest to hips and she touches her lips beneath my ear. Whatever control I've managed to regain goes out the window when Bones tugs my head down further to nibble on the lobe. The need that had temporarily calmed, roars through me.

She turns her head and I lower mine, forcing myself to stop before our lips meet but Bones has other ideas. Lifting her head, she melds her lips to mine, quickly taking the kiss from heated to so decadent it is probably illegal in several states.

A hand pressed against my chest urges me to my back. She slings a leg over me and I quickly grasp her hips, then sitting up, lower her down until she is cushioned against my thighs. I'm nearly at the point of no return and there is something that needs to be said, so Bones doesn't later question if the words 'are only because of the chemicals rushing through me in a post-coital haze,' as she'd say. Despite my intentions, one of my hands go rogue again, skimming up Bones' side to cup a breast, testing its weight, learning its curve for the first time.

"Mmmm, Booth," she murmurs, wrapping an arm around my neck, her other hand caressing first my upper arm, then my chest and side. She takes my breath away. Her eyes are bright, hair tousled, cheeks flushed and her lips swollen from our kisses. "I find I enjoy kissing you…" she laughs, huskily, appreciatively and leans in to kiss me again, "...very much."

Tangling my hand in her hair, I devour her lips, our quickened breaths mingling, our hums of pleasure in harmony. The kisses we share are uninhibited, unrestrained. Our hands roam freely over bare flesh, touching, teasing. She scrapes her nails lightly down my back and I trace the curve of her breast, purposefully nearing but never quite touching the nipple.

It takes every ounce of my willpower to tear my lips from hers and to still my hands on her waist.

"Bones—" She drags the tip of her tongue over my shoulder, making it impossible for me to think, let alone, speak. Panting and desperate, I shift my shoulder away from her and tip her chin back with a pair of fingers. "Bones." Her eyes meet mine, both widened with curiosity and dazed with passion. Unable to resist, I drag my thumb over her swollen lower lip. A rush of pure masculine pride shoots through me, knowing it's my touch, my kisses, that has put her in this state. "I love you."

Her eyes flicker back-and-forth as if trying to see something in my eyes. Suddenly she drops her chin down, hiding most of her face, although I don't miss the blinking of her lashes or the quick, downward pull of her brows. Time stands still and I grow nervous, as memories of the last time I'd offered her my heart take front and center in my mind.

Tonight is nothing like that night.

When she looks back at me, her eyes are bright and a dazzling smile lights her face.

"Good." Laughing, I roll us again and this time, I cover her body with mine.

Only Bones. Holding her eyes with mine, I press a lingering kiss to her lips…