Here it is! The next part, and it takes place between seasons 6 and 7. Enjoy, and please let me know what you think! Also, I have no idea on certain specific timelines in Bones, so I'm taking some liberties here on when the anniversary of the Gravedigger stuff falls and Brennan's pregnancy. Just pretend like it's fine haha! As always, thank you for your wonderful reviews and thoughts!

Also in this chapter, we actually get into the M-rating here. Flashbacks are in italics.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. This chapter title comes from the song "The Bones" by Maren Morris.

Rolling his neck from left to right, Booth winced when he heard it pop. He glanced at the clock and gave a long, weary sigh when he saw that it was fast approaching midnight. He was only a few minutes from home and there was only one thing on his mind: crawling into bed next to his partner and sleeping for a solid twelve hours.

It hadn't escaped Booth's notice that his reason for staying at work late had become his reason for wanting to return home at a reasonable hour. He couldn't imagine that there were very many people that enjoyed staying at work late, but for the first six years of his partnership with Bones, that was a sure fire way to spend more time with her.

Brennan made the extra hours at work fun. She made the piles of paperwork bearable. She would fill those long hours of tedious work with random facts, or would spend twenty minutes summarizing some documentary she had watched to him. Even when things hadn't been at the best between them—especially after they had come back from their sabbaticals—Booth still wanted those moments. Even when he really shouldn't have, when he had other reasons to be at home, he lived for those hours in Brennan's office when they quietly worked together. For that time, he could pretend that everything was exactly the way that it had been, before he had opened his mouth and pushed her too hard.

Blinking and shaking his head slightly, Booth had to remind himself that things were different now. After all those years of pining, and wanting, and hurting, and hoping—on both sides—they were finally together. Booth got the best of both worlds at work and at home. So even though he had to stay late to train new recruits, he still got to go home to Brennan.

And their baby.

It still amazed Booth, thinking about how they had created a new life together on their very first night making love. It was like the universe was trying to get them to make up for six years of lost time—as if it was saying, "Finally, you two got it together." Booth certainly hadn't expected all of this to happen as quickly as it had, but in all honesty, he wouldn't have it any other way. The truth was, it made all of that pain worth it.

He knew that Brennan felt the same way. In the early weeks of their relationship, before they had found out that Brennan was pregnant, they had spent many late nights talking about all of it. They discussed that night at the Hoover, their attempts to pretend that everything was normal after, how they both left, and then everything that happened after their return. They even talked about that night after Heather Taffet's trial, which was when the two of them had let it all go for one heartbreaking night.

Brennan had talked about how afraid she had been on that night, but Booth had told her over and over again that he thought she had been so brave. Despite her fears, she had opened up to Booth in a way that night that he didn't think he'd ever forget. Even though things had gone so spectacularly off the rails after that, Booth had always held on to that night as a beacon of hope—even when he didn't want to admit it.

With a sigh, Booth parked in front of his apartment and turned the engine off. He rolled his shoulders against the muscle stiffness he felt there, and then lost even more tension when he saw Brennan's Prius parked in the spot next to his. Crawling into bed next to his warm, sleepy Bones had quickly become one of his favorite things to do.

Grabbing his gear out of the back of the car, Booth trudged up the steps to his apartment. When he went to use his key, he let out a sigh of half-exasperation, half-amusement when he realized that it was unlocked. He had discovered that Brennan had a tendency to keep almost everything unlocked: her apartment, her car, her phone, her computer. For someone who so stringently followed the procedures while at work, she often found little ways to let go in her personal life. Booth found it endlessly amusing. That didn't stop him from being determined to get her to start locking the apartment doors, at the very least.

There was only one light on in the apartment, casting a soft, yellow glow that just reached the door. Booth set his bag aside to deal with in the morning, and then went to the safe to lock up his firearms. Rubbing the back of his neck, he moved towards the bathroom. As much as he wanted to get into bed, he knew that a quick shower was in order.

As he moved past the couch, he stopped in surprise to see Brennan laying there, covered with blankets and half-asleep, with a book open in her lap. He lips turned up in a slight smile and he shook his head before he moved to close the book and set it aside. It was a parenting book, which Booth wasn't that surprised to find her reading. As with any new topic Temperance Brennan encountered, she researched it as much as possible. They were only four months into this pregnancy, but she had read more books and scholarly articles, had seen more documentaries than Booth imagined most parents watched in a lifetime.

Ducking down, Booth pressed his lips to Brennan's forehead. He inhaled a scent that was quickly becoming familiar to him: the natural scent of Brennan, which was something citrusy and melon, and the scent that was his own, which had started lingering around her (though that might have had more to do with the fact that she was wearing one of his t-shirts and nothing else but a tiny pair of boy cut shorts). Booth was sure that Brennan would have some sort of alpha-male explanation about why he loved it so much, but he would just take it as it was.

Now he took a moment to study her, wondering what the best way to get her up and off and the couch would be. If she was deep enough asleep, he would be able to pick her up and carry her to bed. If she wasn't and he tried, she would wake up with a grumble and protest that she was perfectly capable of walking to bed on her own…and then she would snuggle in and let him carry her anyway.

While Booth had gone out of his way to pick a comfortable couch to sleep on, he knew that she had been experiencing more aches in her body the further into her pregnancy that she got. He wanted to make sure she got the best night's sleep possible, and that wasn't going to happen on the couch.

So Booth pulled the blanket off of Brennan as carefully and slowly as he could. He had just tugged it completely off and was hastily folding it when Brennan shifted, yawning as her eyes fluttered open. Booth tossed the blanket over the side of the couch and knelt beside Brennan, tenderly stroking her hair back.

"Shhh, Bones," he murmured. "Go back to sleep."

She caught sight of Booth, gave him a sleepy smile, and curled into his chest as he lifted her into his arms. He carried her down the hall and into the bedroom, where he quickly got her settled in. Booth covered her up with blankets and then headed into the bathroom for a quick shower.

Feeling fairly exhausted himself, Booth pulled on a pair of boxers and climbed into bed, scooting close to Brennan. She settled against him with a sleepy sigh and Booth held her close, succumbing to exhaustion easily.

He had only been asleep for maybe an hour when he felt the bed shifting beneath him. Booth let out a grunt and tightened the arm he had around Brennan, drawing her closer to him in an attempt to sooth, even in his half-awake state. His eyes opened immediately when Brennan let out a distraught cry and thrashed harder.

Instantly alert, Booth shot up in bed and felt his heart clench when he realized Brennan was crying. She was deep in the throes of a nightmare, and she cried out his name. Taking her by the shoulders, Booth gently shook her. He hated whenever Brennan was in any kind of pain, and had never been able to sit by while it was happening. The need to comfort her was multiplied thousands of times now, given just how deep their relationship now went.

"Bones," he murmured as he stroked Brennan's tangled curls back from her face. He didn't want to shock her awake, but he still needed to wake her up all the same. "Bones, wake up, baby."

Brennan's eyes finally opened slowly, and she stared up at him with glassy, unfocused eyes. It seemed to take her a moment to realize that she was with Booth, in their bed, and that she was safe from whatever had been terrorizing her in her sleep. She blinked, focusing in on Booth, and he brushed his thumb along the curve of her cheek again. With a great, shuddering sob, Brennan threw herself into Booth's arms.

Booth gathered her close, his brow furrowed in concern as he tried to figure out what would bring on this level of distress. Neither of them were strangers to nightmares, of course, but it still tore at Booth's heart to see how strongly Brennan reacted to hers. Thinking back through their recent cases, he couldn't come up with anything that might have triggered her. Was it the time of year then, an anniversary of some sort…?

Once Booth went through his mental rolodex of dates, he quickly realized exactly what time of year it was, and was frankly a little surprised that he hadn't had any nightmares of his own. He supposed he could attribute that to the grueling training he had run the new recruits through today, and the lectures he himself had given on different tactical advantages. It wasn't the first time that he had used physical exhaustion as a way to keep himself from having nightmares. He just hadn't done it intentionally, this time.

His hands had been moving over Brennan's back in soothing circles, and she had calmed down to the occasional sniffle. Booth eased back, noting the lines of exhaustion on her face. She had been working hard, and was pregnant and dealing with morning sickness. Exhaustion crept up on Brennan much faster than she was used to, and she was still adjusting to the change. Getting the proper amount of rest was quickly becoming one of her top priorities, so Booth made the offer.

"Do you want to go back to sleep?" Booth murmured.

Brennan pulled back enough to see Booth's face, and he caught the familiar, stubborn set to her jaw. "No," she stated, her voice leaving no room for discussion. She hesitated then, her eyes wary. Finally, she asked, "Do you know what the date is?"

Booth swore that he fell in love with Brennan all over again in that moment. She thought that he had forgotten, that it wasn't at the forefront of his mind, and she didn't want to bring it up and burden him with his own memories. It was even in the way she worded her question: not specific enough to hint at what would cause a reaction on this time of year, but still enough to indicate that something had happened. She didn't want to trigger anything traumatic for him. It always amazed Booth how much Brennan protected him and showed that she cared just by the way she phrased a sentence.

Either way, Booth would always have this date cemented in his mind, or the affect that it had on both Brennan and him. While it was true that Booth had been occupied for most of the day, he had remembered—he could never forget what had occurred between them the night of Taffet's trial. He didn't want to.

"The day Taffet's trial ended was two years ago," Booth said, and he stroked her hair back when he saw the relief on her face. "I'll never forget that night, Bones. Never."

Brennan shook her head and felt tears forming again, and she blinked rapidly against the burn. "That was when everything was crumbling around us," she whispered. "And last year, it was… it was even worse."

Booth winced, thinking about just how awful the first anniversary of Taffet's trial was. Booth had managed to avoid going to the Jeffersonian for almost the entire day, until he had found some forms that Brennan and Cam needed to sign for an upcoming trial. Those forms needed to be signed sooner rather than later, given that they needed to be reviewed by the legal team that very week. So Booth had grudgingly gathered the forms up and made his way over to the Jeffersonian, where he had found the entire time quiet and subdued.

It was no wonder, really. While it was true that Taffet had been found guilty of that one, horrendous murder of that little boy, there was still a whole slew of crimes that they hadn't been able to get justice for. There were victims—like those twin boys that they had first found—that would never truly get the closure they needed. Hodgins, Brennan, and Booth had to let go of their own cases as well. While it had been the right thing to do, and none of them truly regretted it, it still left years of pain just kind of… there. Everyone knew what Taffet had done to them, and it left a sort of bitter feeling to know that she would never truly pay for those crimes.

Cam had simply signed the forms and sent him on his way without so much as a word. She hadn't been very talkative with Booth in general since he returned from Afghanistan with a blonde journalist in tow. Booth tried not to think about the implication of that, because it would lead him down a road he wasn't quite ready to face. Booth had caught a glimpse of Hodgins in his lab working furiously on… something. He had that look on his face, that slightly crazed look in his eye that he had during the entirety of the trial the year before. Angela had been painting, but occasionally checked in on Hodgins. She had intercepted Booth on his way to find Brennan when he realized that she wasn't in her office.

Angela had pleaded for Booth to check on Brennan, confirming his suspicions that she had locked herself down in limbo. As Angela was keeping an eye on Hodgins, Booth knew that someone needed to check on Brennan. This had been the first time that Angela had outright asked Booth for something, given that she wasn't too keen on talking to him either, unless she absolutely had to. Given that nothing had been the same since he had returned from Afghanistan and Brennan had come back from Maluku, Booth still wanted to be the person to check on her.

So he had gone down there, and Brennan had barely acknowledged that he was even there until he was right in front of her, waving a hand in front of her face. Her eyes had been so full of heartbreak and exhaustion, and Booth was torn between two reactions: turning and running, or pulling Brennan into his arms and never letting go. Without really revealing the turmoil he was feeling, he managed to choke out a question, asking if she was okay. Brennan had just given him a look, not saying anything, but that was an answer in and of itself.

He had seen that look, a year before, when they had been lying in bed with each other tangled together so closely that Booth wasn't sure where she ended and he began. At that moment, Booth didn't want to remember that night, so he got the forms signed and he left. Later that night, long after he and Hannah had gone to bed, Booth had woken from a horrible nightmare—one that he had had many times before. He always seemed to have them whenever Heather Taffet reared her ugly head and came roaring back into their lives. Booth had been having the same nightmare every single night of the trial the year before and looking back on it now, it was a damn miracle that he had managed to hold himself together as well as he had.

The nightmare was the one where he had pulled Brennan's limp body from the ground. He had been too late, and she was dead. He couldn't do a damn thing to save her, and it was a reality that he had come frighteningly close to on that horrible day. He was shaky, sweaty, and there were tears in his eyes that he was unable to hide. He was thankful that Hannah hadn't woken up, and he had taken his phone and gone out into the living room.

It was late, but Booth made the phone call anyway. And he would never forget the way that she had helped him get through that night, just like she had the year before.

Hitting the name on the touch screen with shaking fingers, Booth lifted the phone to his ear and waited. He wasn't even sure that she would answer—and certainly wouldn't blame her if she didn't. He had barely managed to get a full sentence out while he had been at the lab, and hadn't exactly said anything meaningful. He was probably the last person that she wanted to talk to and frankly, he had no right to be calling her. He knew that, and he still chose to put the phone to his ear and hope that she would pick up anyway.

Then, on the fourth ring, she answered. Her voice was wary and heavy, and it made Booth's heart clench. "Booth?"

He remembered the same phone call from a year ago, when she had told him to come over. He knew that she wouldn't be making the same offer now, but he had still called. And she had still answered. And there was a part of him—a part that he had been trying to quiet for a year now—that still secretly, desperately hoped she would ask him to come over.

In that moment, Booth hated that part of himself. After that night at the Hoover, when he had pushed too hard and sent Brennan running, Booth had never been able to forgive himself. He knew all of the horrible things that she had experienced in her life, knew how long it took her to trust someone, and he had let the impulsive words of a colleague get to him instead. He should have known not the make the gamble, given that those big risks tended not to work out for him.

So he had tried to move on, had tried to let go. And when he saw that Brennan was pulling away anyway, Booth tried to remove himself from the situation completely. They had wanted him to train in Afghanistan, and he could see how much what had happened between them was hurting Brennan. He couldn't bear to be the cause of her pain, so he left. And she had decided to run anyway. Booth couldn't blame her, though, because he had done the same thing.

And Booth knew. He knew that he was hiding behind this new relationship, he knew that nothing could compare to the connection he had with Brennan. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how much he attempted to let go and move on, he couldn't seem to completely do it. Temperance Brennan had somehow embedded herself into the very core of who he was, and he couldn't seem to shake it. Honestly, he didn't want to.

Booth couldn't bring himself to say anything. The words were stuck in his throat—there was so much that he wanted to say, and none of it was appropriate, or fair. It wouldn't be fair to the woman living with him now, and it certainly wouldn't be fair to Brennan. So it was just easier to say nothing at all, even though that wasn't much better.

He knew he was being a jackass, and he knew that he was hurting her. But he was hurting too. All his life, he had wondered if he was good enough. When Temperance Brennan had walked into his life, he was sure that she would brush him aside and dismiss him. She was too beautiful, too smart, too amazing to want someone like him in her life. And yet (after a few rough patches), she had decided that he was worth keeping in her life. Even though Booth had been in love with her for years, when he had finally admitted it to himself, he had allowed himself to hope that there could really be something more between them. That they could make it. It killed him that he had pushed too hard, and he knew that he was at fault for their relationship and partnership imploding.

As always, Brennan seemed to understand him. "Booth, it's okay," she murmured, giving him absolution that Booth didn't think he deserved. His breath caught, a tear escaping, and Brennan heard it. "I'm okay."

Those words were really all that he needed to hear, and they stayed on the line for another few minutes. Booth took comfort in just listening to the sound of her breathing, and Brennan let him. He hoped that whatever she was going through that night, this phone call was at least offering some measure of comfort to her as well.

Finally, Booth managed to choke out, "Bones, I'm sorry."

It was déjà vu, a repeat of another moment they had shared a year ago. Brennan sighed, and she said again, "It's okay, Booth."

And then she hung up.

It was probably more for her own self-preservation than anything else, which Booth could completely understand. If he had stayed on the phone any longer, there was a very real chance that he would have said or done something very stupid.

But he knew that he had put himself in this situation, and he had to live with it. Booth and Brennan were now just partners, but it seemed that he still couldn't let go of the need to check on her. He could never completely let go of Temperance Brennan, and he feared—and hoped—that she would haunt him for the rest of his life.

Burying his face in her hair, Booth held Brennan even tighter. "I'm sorry, Bones," he said again, because it was the only thing that he could think to say. It would never be enough, though. He hated it when Brennan was in pain, and he hated it even more knowing that he had been the cause of some of that pain.

Brennan's arms twined around his neck, and her fingers combed soothingly through the hair at the nape of his neck. "You don't have to apologize for what happened then, Booth," she told him. "Truthfully, I… I needed that call as much as you did."

"You know…" Booth pulled back enough to look into those beautiful blue eyes of hers. He dropped a kiss to Brennan's temple, closing his eyes as he inhaled her scent. It comforted him, grounded him, as much as it had that night after he had pulled her from the ground with his bare hands. "That night, when we found you and Hodgins, all I could think about was how I almost lost you. It wasn't the first time—" Kenton came to mind, and Booth repressed a shudder for the incident that Brennan had forgiven him so easily for. "—but it felt different. It was… God, Bones. I should have known then."

"Known what?" Brennan asked quietly. Though there was something in her eyes that told him she knew the answer.

"How I much I loved you then." Booth closed his eyes again and scrubbed his free hand over his face. "I tried not to. You needed someone to be there for you no matter what happened. You didn't need some lovesick guy mooning after you."

Brennan cracked a smile at that. "I don't think you've ever mooned after me, Booth."

Booth disagreed with that assessment, but he kept those thoughts to himself. His longing for Brennan popped up at the most inopportune times, especially when he was still with Hannah—it led to some poor, impulsive decisions in his desperate attempt to hold Brennan at arm's length while still keeping her in his life. There had always been that magnetic attraction between them, and no matter how hard either of them fought it, they were inevitably drawn together. It was like a burden had been lifted off of them once they had stopped fighting it.

Brennan's eyes dropped from his face, instead focusing on where her hand was resting against his chest. "I hurt you then as well, Booth. Don't think that I've ever forgotten that. I should have trusted what we had instead of trying to push you away. I pushed you right into…" Unwilling to really finish that sentence, Brennan shook her head. "Well, I pushed you away. I will always regret that."

Brennan wished that she hadn't been so afraid. Booth had been there for her for years, had shown her how much he cared with words and actions. He had taught her how to open up, had brought her family back to her, and had shown her that she was worth something, and that she didn't need to be that abandoned little girl anymore. Booth had waited patiently for her for five, almost six years, and when he had finally asked for a chance, Brennan had frozen, unable to let herself be truly vulnerable in that moment. Those months in Maluku—and the even more difficult year that had followed—Brennan had always wondered what would have happened if she had just said yes.

Closing his eyes, Booth drew Brennan close and pressed his lips to her forehead again, lingering there for several long moments. They had had this conversation many times before—about how they had both hurt one another, about the choices they had made over the past year especially, and about the healing and the growing they had done, both apart and together. There would be no more time lost between them. They were together now, and it was going to stay that way.

"The point is, that night…" Booth continued their earlier conversation, knowing that this was important. He took a deep breath and said, "I couldn't bear to be away from you. I couldn't stop touching you. I needed to know you were there. The thought of you losing you… Bones, it killed me a little bit."

With shining eyes, Brennan reached up and pressed a gentle kiss to Booth's lips. He pulled her closer, his hand cradling the back of her head. "I love you, Booth," she murmured against his lips.

Exhaling slowly, Booth deepened the kiss, weaving his fingers in her hair to bring her closer. Feeling her next to him, warm and alive and safe, made all of their shared pain a little easier to bear.

When they parted, Brennan buried her face against Booth's chest, inhaling his comforting scent. Booth had always been unable to keep himself from touching her, and that need had only intensified with the new development to their relationship. His hands kept stroking over her hair, making soothing circles on her back, and his fingers kept passing over her pulse point.

"Talk to me about it," Booth murmured.

Brennan didn't need him to elaborate to know that he was asking about the nightmare she had had. She sighed, clearly stalling for several long moments, but Booth was an expert at waiting her out. Finally, she said, "I don't entirely recall the details."

Booth shot her a look. "Bones."

"Really, I don't," Brennan insisted. That was one part that she absolutely hated about nightmares. If she could remember all of the details, she would be able to dissect it, maybe figure it out. When all she could recall was the swirl of terror, it made it rather unpleasant. "I just… I remember feeling trapped. It was dark, and I was… I was looking for you. I couldn't find you. I…" She wrinkled her nose. "I did not enjoy it."

Ducking his head down, Booth pressed his lips to her temple. "I'm sorry, Bones," he said, his voice muffled against her skin. He couldn't seem to hold her tight enough, and his fingers kept flexing spasmodically, as if he was worried she might disappear.

Needing to reassure himself as much as he needed to comfort Brennan, Booth continued, "She's gone now. She can't hurt you anymore, Bones." It was something that they both had to remember. What Heather Taffet had done to them had left dark marks on their lives, and it was something that they had been struggling to overcome in the intervening years.

What had held both Brennan and Booth together throughout it all was the connection they shared and the way that, even with their struggles, had managed to be there for one another. Even when their relationship was at its worst, they had still managed to comfort each other.

"Yes," Brennan agreed as her hand trialed up and down his back, soothing him with her gentle touch. "And I woke up, Booth. You're here."

It was true. They were together now, there for everything—the good, the nightmares, the early mornings and late nights, the long hours working together. It still struck Booth how easy it had been to move into this new aspect of their relationship. It had been almost seamless, really. Booth and Brennan had already been through so much together, had already been intimate in so many different ways. The only thing that had really been missing was the physical aspect of their relationship, and they were certainly making up for lost time with that.

"I'm here. And I'm not going anywhere," Booth swore. He saw Brennan shoot him that look, and she opened her mouth, gearing up to tell him that he couldn't make promises he didn't know if he could keep. So, with a slight smile, Booth added, "Not if I can help it."

That seemed to be enough for Brennan, and she curled back against his chest. They stayed wrapped up in each other's arms for long, quiet minutes, just soaking in the fact that they got to be together this way, now. Booth could feel the gentle curve of Brennan's belly against him, and he brought one hand down to palm it. Brennan stared at his broad, tan palm covering their growing child, and she was honestly still amazed that they had managed to get to this point, together.

"Thank you, Booth," Brennan murmured. The reassuring thump of his heart beneath her ear grounded her and comforted her in ways that she couldn't put into words. That's what Booth had been doing for her for years—since she had first met him, really. Even when he was annoying her, he had managed to reach her in a way that no one else ever had before.

Booth's brow furrowed in confusion. "For what?" He couldn't imagine what she could possibly be thanking him for.

Brennan's answer was, as always, completely and unflinchingly honest. "For loving me. Now, and long before I realized it."

Exhaling slowly, Booth finally admitted something that he had been holding on to for years. "It was so easy, Bones. So easy to love you. You smiled at me, and that… that was it. I was a goner."

Arching an eyebrow in his direction, Brennan smirked and asked, "A smile? That was all it took?" She didn't question the fact that Booth was alluding to faith and love at first sight. The truth was, she had felt a shift as well, on that very first day when Booth had walked into the lecture hall. The pull between them at been almost elemental, which, in part, was why Brennan had been so fascinated by Seeley Booth. She had sensed that there was something that drew her to him, even in the beginning.

From then on, she really got to know Booth, as coworker, partner, and a man. His determination, his compassion, his… well, the heroicness he displayed every day on the job. Temperance Brennan was fascinated by Seeley Booth, and the more she got to know him, the more she wanted to know. She felt lucky to have a man like Booth in her life, and she was often amazed that he had chosen to allow her to be a part of his life.

Brennan was very intelligent, after all. She knew that even though she had played the blackmail card with Booth all those years ago, if he had really wanted to, he could have made sure that she never made it into the field. Booth and Brennan had allowed each other in because they chose to. No matter how hard Brennan tried to fight it in the beginning, she still chose to allow Booth in anyway. That was when she first realized that she was falling love with him.

"It's easy to love you too, you know," Brennan told him.

Booth didn't say anything in response, but the look in his eyes broke Brennan's heart. She remembered everything, which meant that she never forgot everything that Booth had ever revealed to her. She knew that he had faced abuse for years, had been abandoned by both his father and his mother, and had seen and done things that he still felt the need to repent for. Booth kept his problems and his trauma even closer to his chest than Brennan did, and that was saying something. Every time he let her in, she swore that she fell a little bit more in love with him.

As always, Booth chose to tell Brennan how he felt through actions instead of words. Slipping his hand behind her neck, he pulled her close and covered her mouth with his. He kissed her with a thoroughness that stole her breath and made her heart beat impossibly fast. There was something about the slow, possessive way that Booth was kissing her that she could feel all the way to the tips of her toes. Brennan wound her arms around his neck and pressed herself even closer, basking in the feel of his love for her.

They went back to bed not long after that, and Brennan didn't have any more nightmares. Booth had wrapped his arms securely around her and she had spent the rest of the night knowing that she was safe, and that they were together.

When Brennan finally woke the next morning, Booth was in bed smelling a little more strongly of the soap he used every day, and his hair was still damp. He must have gone for an early run and then had gotten back into bed. He was wearing only a pair of boxer shorts and had an arm slung over her waist. All of that golden, firm skin was pressed against her, and Brennan felt herself getting sleepily aroused.

Turning in his arms, Brennan settled on her side so that she was facing him. She reached her hand forward, hesitating only slightly before she lightly traced the chiseled contours of Booth's face. They had only been in this relationship for a little over five months, and Brennan still somehow had to remind herself that she was allowed to touch him in any way she wanted to, now.

Brennan couldn't get over how peaceful Booth looked when he was sleeping. He was so active and lively during the day, so full of life and passion, and Brennan felt that it was something special to be able to see him like this, at his most vulnerable. His face was completely relaxed, and Brennan's fingers followed the slope of his nose, the arch of his zygomatics, the line of his sensual lips, and strong edge of his jaw.

Once she was done with the inspection of his face, Brennan moved down his neck and followed the line of his perfect, broad shoulders. Her hands swept up and down a few times, and then moved over the firm muscles in his chest and abdomen. By the time Brennan got down to the waistband of his boxer shorts, she could see that they were significantly tented.

Brennan glanced up at Booth's face and wasn't surprised to find that his eyes were open. The same sleepy arousal that was quickly ramping up in her body was apparent in his eyes. Tangling his fingers in her hair, Booth slanted his mouth over hers, kissing her in a way that made her ache for more.

He pressed three short kisses to her lips after the initial one and then rested his forehead against hers. "Morning, Bones."

"Mmmm." Brennan stretched and ran her hands over his chest again. "Sorry if I woke you."

"Feel free to wake me up that way any time you want," Booth said with a grin. "That intense look of concentration you get really turns me on."

He had told her that before, and Brennan was always a little bit amazed every time he said it. "My intense look of concentration?" she repeated. "What is that, exactly?"

Booth stroked the tip of his index finger between her eyes. "You get this little furrow, right here. And your eyes, they're studying, trying to figure something out. It's like you can unlock all of the secrets of what's in front of you just by looking at it." His finger moved down and traced the curve of her lips. "And you get the slightest little pucker, right here." Booth kissed Brennan again, softly, reverently. "That look has always gotten to me, in the best way."

In that moment, Brennan swore that she fell in love with Booth all over again. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close, pressing her face into the curve of his neck. Booth sighed in contentment as his hands stroked up and down her back in a soothing caress.

"I wrote a letter," Brennan suddenly blurted.

She immediately clamped her mouth shut and bit down on her lower lip in an effort to keep anymore words from escaping. Brennan hadn't meant to say it; ever since their conversation the night before, however, the letter that she had written for Booth had been at the forefront of her mind. She had thought about it a lot over the past year, especially. It might have been a little selfish of her, but no matter what had happened, Brennan had always wanted to eventually give that letter to Booth. He was, in large part, the reason that she had survived down there. He deserved to read those words.

Booth's hands paused on her back. "What?"

She could hear the wariness in his voice, like he already knew that she wasn't talking about writing some random letter just because she felt like it. He knew that it was related to her capture with Taffet, and he also knew how painful it was for her to remember what had happened then. Booth was honestly a little surprised that Brennan had brought it up on her own.

Brennan felt like that space in the crook of Booth's neck was the safest place for her to be, sometimes. She thought of all of the times he had tucked her in there—after rescuing her from Kenton, after finding her mother's bones, after they had feared her brother was dead, after rescuing him from the ship when he had been captured by Taffet, and so many other times—and how it had always made her feel better. Closing her eyes, she inhaled his familiar, comforting scent and slid her hand over Booth's chest, until she could feel his heartbeat under her palm.

Without lifting her head, Brennan took a deep breath and said, "When we were trapped and things were looking… well, rather bleak, Hodgins suggested that we write letters to the person that was most important to us. Hodgins wrote his to Angela, and she told me that he gave it to her when they got back together last year. And I…"

Booth knew that Brennan needed some time when she was opening up to him, so he simply continued to hold her as he waited for her to finish. Finally, she pulled back just enough to look into his face, needing to look him in the eye when she said this.

"I wrote my letter to you," she finally admitted.

Booth's mouth went dry, and his heart thudded in his chest at her admission. Did she even understand what she did to him? God, she just went straight to his heart, and she did it without even realizing it. All those years ago, she had been thinking of him, wanting to reach out to him, the same way that he had been trying to reach out to her. They could have saved so much time and heartache if they had both just been a little less oblivious, a little more convinced that they both deserved happiness. Together.

"You kept it?" Booth asked. "After… after all this time?"

"Yes," Brennan told him. "I thought about giving it to you the night we were rescued, but I… didn't. There were many times over the years that I thought about giving it to you, but it never seemed like the right moment. With everything that happened this past year, as well…" Brennan didn't need to elaborate, because Booth nodded his head in understanding. Brennan continued, "And now I just… I wanted you to know."

Booth studied her for a long moment before he gave her a gentle smile and said, "You're not ready to give it to me yet."

"I—" Brennan's mouth opened and closed twice before her brow wrinkled. "I want to give it to you," she finally said.

Yeah, Booth didn't doubt that. Brennan wouldn't have told him about the letter if she didn't want him to have it. But there was that little, barest hint of uncertainty in her voice, and Booth knew that they both had to remind themselves that despite everything they had been through, they had only been in their relationship—truly—for four months. This was still new. They were still learning all of those little things that you got to learn about someone when you were in a relationship with them, and at the end of the day, they knew that they had time to figure it all out.

It was enough that Brennan had shared the existence of the letter with Booth. She had written those words in a desperate moment, and Booth was only too thankful that he had never had to find the note on his own. Because that would have meant that Brennan had died, and that was simply unacceptable.

He had no doubt that she would give him the letter when she really and truly was ready. Booth knew how she felt now, and he didn't need her to try and prove it because she was feeling vulnerable, given the time of year it was. Booth wanted Brennan to share the letter during a time that wasn't tarnished by nightmares of the Grave Digger.

Booth stroked Brennan's hair back and pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. "I know you do. And you will. When you're ready."

With a happy, contended sigh, Brennan tucked herself back against Booth's chest. His arms slid back around her again, holding her against him in a way that let her know how thankful he was that they were now at this place in their lives. Brennan wasn't sure if she believed in fate like Booth did, but she had always hoped that they would end up here.

"Thank you," Brennan whispered, in awe of the way that he understood her. From the very beginning, Booth had always seemed to know exactly what she needed. That hadn't changed, and it never would.

Booth and Brennan stayed like that, wrapped in each other's arms, as the early morning sunlight moved through the window. Finally, when the sun was at its brightest, Brennan tilted her face up towards Booth. What she wanted was clear in her heated gaze, and Booth was only too happy to give it to her.

Threading his fingers in her hair, Booth met Brennan's lips halfway in a kiss that was somehow both deep and tender, all at the same time. With every slide of his lips against hers, Brennan could feel the passion that Booth always seemed to save just for her, and it made her heart pound and only heightened her arousal that much more. Pressing her hands to his shoulder, Brennan moved Booth until he was lying flat on his back. Then she slung a leg over his hip, straddling him until her center pressed intimately to his.

Without breaking the kiss, Brennan rolled her hips against Booth's. She gasped at the sharp pleasure that came over her like a wave, and Booth groaned against her lips. He kept one hand in her hair while the other drifted down her spine until he covered that sensitive dip at the small of her back. He applied a slight pressure, and it was just enough to cause a reaction in Brennan's body, making her grind down harder against Booth. She had no idea that the small of her back had become an erogenous zone, and she wondered if Booth had discovered it on his own, or if it was there because it was the place that Booth had claimed as his own so very long ago.

Brennan writhed against him, rocking her hips until the throbbing between her legs became nearly unbearable. She had been trading wet, hot, deep kisses with Booth all the while, and she finally tore her mouth away from his to let out another long, low moan.

"Booth, I…" Brennan's breath caught when Booth's hips thrust up against hers. She dug her fingers into his chest, looking for something—anything—to hold on to. "Oh, I'm going to come."

Booth managed to disentangle his one hand from Brennan's thick hair, and he slid both down until he was cupping her bottom. He encouraged the rhythm she had going, with the subtle press of his fingers urging her to move faster.

"So come, baby," Booth murmured. His eyes were full of heat, his voice deep and hypnotic. "Let me see you."

With another moan of pleasure, Brennan pressed her face into Booth's neck and rocked harder against him. Pressing one hand against her hip to keep her steady, Booth slid his hand up to the small of Brennan's back and applied the slightest bit of pressure. The feel of his calloused fingertips pressing against the spot that he had claimed all those years ago triggered something in Brennan, and she came with a gasp of his name.

Booth groaned and tugged her down to kiss him again. He could feel how wet she was, even through the relatively thin barrier of her underwear and his boxer shorts. He held her close as she shuddered against him, trying his best not to come as well. He wanted to be inside of her when that happened, and he certainly wasn't done with her yet.

As she came down, Brennan couldn't resist rocking against Booth again. He was so hard beneath her, his body so hot, his arms secure around her. She couldn't get enough of him, and she swore that she could spend all day in bed with Booth and be completely satisfied. She had never felt that way before, but it honestly wasn't surprising to her that Booth had been the one to get her there.

Booth's fingers curled around the hem of the t-shirt she had stolen from him. "Off," he commanded.

Booth had told her, once, that he wasn't a prude in bed. A part of Brennan had always believed that, but she still enjoyed teasing him. When she had discovered that Booth was pretty much the exact opposite of a prude… well, that thought alone was enough to cause a reaction in Brennan. She knew that both of them liked to be in control, but Booth's bossy side turned her on to no end. When he used that commanding voice on her, Brennan was only too happy to comply.

So Brennan raised her arms over her head, arching her back slightly so that her breasts were even more easily accessible to Booth. He tossed the shirt away and immediately closed both hands over her breasts, his thumbs rotating around her nipples.

"You're so fucking hot, Bones," Booth murmured, his eyes dark as he gazed at her.

Still rocking against him, Brennan moaned his name and covered his hands with hers. She flattened his palms against her breasts, directing him in the way she wanted him to massage her. Booth cursed when he could feel her tight nipples pressing against his palms, and he swore that he could have come just from the sight of watching Brennan take her pleasure from him.

They had both always known that the sex between them would be amazing. But this… this transcended even their wildest expectations.

She was throbbing wetly between her legs, and she still couldn't believe that they both had their underwear on. Continuing to rock against him, she pressed harder into his hands, loving the way his calloused palms felt against her soft skin.

"Touch me, Booth," Brennan moaned. Please, God, please touch me."

Booth chuckled at that. "I'm gonna need my hands if you want me touch your hot little pussy, Bones."

Brennan's breath caught, her body jerking slightly at his hot words. They always dripped so easily from that sensual mouth of his, and it never failed to turn her on outrageously. Still, in an attempt to maintain some form of control, Brennan leaned down and nipped at Booth's bottom lip.

"You may have one hand," she allowed, as she released Booth's right hand.

He chuckled again and Brennan breathlessly joined him in his laughter. They had made love all sorts of ways since that first night, but some of her favorite moments had been when they were having fun with one another. She loved that they could be like this, both in bed and out of it.

Booth trailed two fingers down the center of her body and then dipped them beneath her underwear. He slicked his fingers between her wet, swollen folds, moaning as he felt the results of her previous orgasm and just how aroused she was for him.

"Shit, Bones, you have no idea what it does to me to feel you like this." He teased her just by rubbing her for a few moments, before Brennan spread her thighs even further on either side of hips, wiggling pointedly against him. Getting the hint, Booth thrust two fingers inside of her, curling them against the most sensitive spot.

"Oh, Booth!" Brennan threw her head back, and, still keeping his left hand pressed against her breast, rocked against his fingers. When his thumb found her clit, she fell forward, her hands pressed on either side of Booth's shoulders.

This gave Booth even easier access to Brennan's breasts, and he nuzzled between them before he kissed his way over to one nipple. Taking one into his mouth, he sucked strongly and Brennan rotated her hips even harder against his fingers.

"Fuck, Booth, please, I'm so close," she pleaded. His fingers and his mouth were magic, and she was growing even wetter around his hand, coating her own thighs in her arousal. Thinking about how Booth was going to sink his hard length inside of her after this only served to turn her on even more, and she moaned with abandon.

"Like this, baby?" Booth murmured hotly from beneath her. "You like it when I fuck you with my fingers like this?"

"Yes," Brennan panted, and his lips moved over to her other breast, his teeth raking lightly against her nipple. "Yes, yes, yes, yes…"

She came again, pulsing against his fingers. Booth slipped his hand out from her underwear and brought his fingers to his lips, sucking on them. Brennan watched him with sated, hazy eyes, knowing that this was far from over.

"I'm going to put my mouth on you later," Booth murmured as his fingers slipped from his mouth. "And I'm going to lick those orgasms off of you and make you come again. But for now…" He flipped Brennan beneath him and tugged her panties off in one smooth motion. "I need to be inside of you."

"Yes," Brennan agreed again as she pushed his boxer briefs down around his hips. He helped her push them down until he could kick them off, and then cursed when her cool fingers closed around his throbbing cock. She stroked a few times, spreading the pre-cum beading around his tip over his hard length.

Booth thrust into her hand, loving the tight way she gripped him. But what he loved even more was the lush, wet, tightness of her body, and he gripped her wrist and squeezed lightly, signaling that it was time for her to let go.

She pouted a little at that—Booth had learned that Brennan had quite the thing about stroking his cock, not that he would ever complain—but he was able to hold off any protests by sheathing himself inside of her in one, smooth stroke.

He held himself still, fighting his body's natural instinct to thrust hard and fast. He was on edge, and feeling her wet and tight and swollen around him wasn't doing very much to help him hold on. He wanted her to come again, though, because there was nothing better than feeling her ripple around him, watching her eyes turn that dark, stormy blue when she came with him.

"Move, Booth," Brennan pleaded. Her legs came around him, her slick thighs pressing against his sides, and her hips rocked against him, taking him even deeper inside of her. "Oh, God, I need you to move—oh!"

Booth thrust sharply against her, and then picked up a smooth, slow—but deep—pace. Brennan wrapped her body completely around him, and she wore that he was hitting spots inside of her that she hadn't even known existed. When she began to tighten around him once again, they both lost any sort of rhythm they originally had going. They were now just moving against one another, both reaching for pleasure, desperate but still in time with each other.

Brennan bit down on the sensitive spot where Booth's neck met his shoulder, her fingers digging into his back, and Booth came hotly within her. His orgasm triggered hers, and Brennan shouted Booth's name as she followed him over the edge.

Brennan lost herself to the pleasure, closing her eyes and letting it carry her away as she tightened her arms and legs around Booth and just held on. When Brennan finally returned to reality, Booth had his face pressed to her neck and he was trying to catch his breath. He was still holding most of his body weight off of her, choosing instead to collapse next to her, while still managing to press as close to her as he could get.

"Oh, Booth," Brennan finally managed. "I really do love you."

Booth chuckled at that and pressed his lips to her neck as his palm stroked over the curve of her belly. "I love you too, Bones. So much."

He moved his lips down her neck, between her breasts, and over her belly as his hands closed over Brennan's hips. He kept her pressed against the mattress and nipped at the inside of her thigh, making Brennan gasp.

She lifted her head and gazed down at him, licking her lips. "What are you doing, Booth?"

He grinned at her. "I told you what I was going to do." Booth knew that Brennan understood him when her breathing sped up and her cheeks flushed. Still, he couldn't help but elaborate. "Watch me, Bones."

His head ducked down, his lips pressing to her center. With a moan, Brennan tangled her fingers into his thick hair and did her very best to keep her eyes open as she felt Booth's tongue rasp over her most intimate place. Eventually, though, the pleasure became too much, and Brennan could do nothing but close her eyes and ride the waves of pleasure.

Much later that day, Booth and Brennan finally got out of bed. Booth went for a run while Brennan wrote a little for her next novel. Brennan got a half-hour yoga session done when she got antsy, and she was taking a shower by the time Booth got back. He joined her (where they spent some time getting dirty again before they actually got clean), and then Booth cooked a late breakfast while Brennan worked her way through her never-ending stream of emails.

Booth made fluffy stacks of pancakes and some turkey sausage. It was a topic that Booth tried to hide his amusement about—he couldn't help but find it funny that one of Brennan's biggest cravings so far was meat. She was trying valiantly to eat the healthiest options, choosing to consume only leaner meats. Booth wisely chose not to mention the times that she ordered a burger at the diner.

They finished their breakfast, and Brennan was at the stove, preparing a mug of herbal tea. Booth came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, palming the curve of her belly. Closing her eyes, Brennan covered his hands with hers and relaxed back against Booth, her head falling to his shoulder.

They stood that way for quite a while, just holding each other, until Brennan finally cracked an eye open and looked at the clock. "We have an hour before we're supposed to be at Angela and Hodgins' place."

Booth's hand began to stroke their growing child, and he brushed his lips against her neck before he made a sound of agreement. "Mmm, that's right."

It's something that they had decided to start only this year. While Hodgins, Booth, and Brennan had experienced the most trauma at the hands of the Grave Digger, their entire team had been affected by it. They would all handle the actual anniversary in whatever way they needed to. The day after, though, they would all come together in a reminder that they had survived, that they had won.

Booth and Brennan truly had each other now, in the best way possible. The past few years, there had never been any true guilt about being together during this time because it was what had felt right. Perhaps that had been the problem—Booth and Brennan had been constantly trying to convince themselves that they should feel guilty for wanting and needing each other. Now, they were free from the ridiculous expectations that they had placed on themselves, and had finally allowed the happiness and freedom that they both deserved.

Turning in Booths' arms, Brennan asked, "You didn't touch the cookies I made, did you?"

Brennan had always been a fantastic cook, but ever since becoming pregnant, she had insisted on learning how to bake as well. Since baking was basically a science, Brennan had caught on in no time at all. Both the staff at the Jeffersonian and his office at the Hoover were benefitting greatly from her baking experiments.

Looking at her with wide, innocent eyes, Booth shot her a charm smile. "Who, me?"

"Booth."

It never failed to amuse Booth that even when Brennan was trying to act annoyed with him, he could see the smile in her eyes. She liked playing with him, enjoyed the bickering and the debates. Despite all of the changes, it warmed Booth from the inside out to know that they wouldn't lose this part of themselves.

"Put a note on them next time," Booth advised cheekily. Yeah, he had snuck a cookie, and he couldn't wait until their baby was old enough to sneak cookies with him.

"I'll put a note on you," Brennan muttered. But she reached up and patted his cheek, her eyes warm and tender. She knew exactly what he had been thinking, and those interactions were exactly what she looked forward to when she thought about the life they would have with their baby.

Booth chuckled at the way she made absolutely no sense and ducked his head down to kiss her deeply. His hands slipped under her shirt, trailing up her stomach to cup her breasts. Moaning, Brennan arched into his touch and opened her mouth willingly under his.

When Booth moved his lips to her neck, Brennan managed to gasp out, "We're going to be late."

"I've got about half an hour to work with if we're going to be on time," Booth murmured. The passionate promise in his voice really got to her, and she could feel herself melting in to him. There was something about Booth's voice, and his hands, and his lips—everything, really—that just got to Brennan in the best way possible. She really had no idea how she had held out for six years, truly.

"I can do a lot in half an hour," Booth continued as his thumbs moved in circles over her nipples. Even through the lace of her bra, his touch was electric, only leaving Brennan wanting more.

"Okay," Brennan agreed readily, her hands sliding down his torso. She cupped him through his jeans, smiling when he groaned into her neck. "Maybe…" A gasp escaped her when he gently bit down and sucked where her neck met her shoulder. "Maybe it will be okay if we're a little late."

"I couldn't agree more, Bones," Booth told Brennan with the smile meant just for her. "I couldn't agree more.

Okay so I lied. The last chapter will actually take place directly after Booth and Brennan's wedding ceremony. This will give me the chance to write about their reception a little bit, which frankly, I'm still a little mad that we were deprived of. But the note that Brennan read to Booth was so beautiful and so perfectly them (as was Booth's vows to Brennan), that of course I had to include it! It really ties together the whole Grave Digger and the aftermath arc.

Thanks for reading!