Title: This is Life

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters.

Rating: This chapter is a T. But the subsequent ones will be M.

A/N: This is for BonesDBchippie. I changed the initial plan, quite a bit really. But, the ideas we had for what they can do will be in the next chapter. I hope you like it chick. I sure enjoyed writing this one. And thanks for the little shove in the right direction. It's about time I got around to a new chapter in this!

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"So, what are we doing here, then?" Brennan asked, turning in a full circle.

She admired the size of the room, the high four poster bed, the spectacular view over the lake, and knew exactly why they were there. It was officially their 'first weekend away'.

"Don't you like Vermont?" Booth asked, thrusting open the balcony doors, tempting the sweet summer air into their bedroom. The curtains fluttered, and she shrugged.

"Yeah…" she really did, too. There was something so nice about being away from the city. Outside, beyond the sparkling blue lake, the hills rose to the cloudless blue sky, a blanket of leafy green. She saw no buildings except for the small timber farm shed at the base of the rising slope. The owner of the hotel suggested they take a walk around the lake because the scenery was 'spectacular'.

"Then take off your shoes, Bones, and relax." She sat in the cushioned arm chair, her back sinking into its softness. The flight hadn't taken long, nor had the drive to the secluded hotel, but she felt weary – her muscles ached and it felt liberating, almost, to look outside and see such natural, unspoilt beauty.

Complying, she slipped her feet out of her boots and untied her hair. Booth watched her for a moment, his eyes darkly aroused. The effect of her free-flowing hair was instantaneous. She chuckled inwardly, wondering at how insatiable her new lover was.

"Bones…" he murmured, running her fingers over the crown of her head. She titled into his touch. "This weekend, are forbidden to talk about two things, okay?" Never likely to agree to a contract without reading it carefully, Brennan pulled away and lifted her eyes to his face.

"What two things?" She asked, suspicious. He smiled at her instant distrust. Brennan thought everyone was up to something. His joke about how she should have been in The X-Files fell flat, because of course, Brennan didn't 'know what that means'.

"The words 'Federal Bureau of Investigation' and 'Jeffersonian' are out of the question until Monday morning." He slipped his hand into her burgundy coat and removed her cell-phone. She made a futile grab for it. "These," he said, pulling his own from his jeans, "are going to be turned off. Personal time means just that."

Her half-hearted protests sounded as empty as she felt they were. Inwardly, she knew Booth was right. But it would be a icy day in hell before she ever admitted it. Especially to him. "Do you want to sleep?" Brennan asked, watching as he tucked their phones into his bag and zipped them inside.

"We didn't come here to sleep," Booth said, running his eyes over her face, along her neck, to where her v-necked shirt dipped low enough to reveal the lacy edge of her ivory bra. His expression clouded in a way she instantly recognised as pure lust. His lips curled in a semi-smile, and she folded her hands over her torso.

"Didn't we? I thought we came to relax…" His eyes flickered to her face and he recovered his composure quickly.

"Of course we did, Bones," he replied, slipping ten dollars from his pocket. "You know what we can get with ten bucks?" She shook her head, wispy strands of her hair brushing her cheeks as she did. Her hair, and the scent of it, drove him wild. "A rowing boat," he explained, shaking the note.

"You want us to go… rowing?" She sounded incredulous, her eyebrows arched. "Hang on whilst I dress in my Little Bo Peep dress and frilly umbrella…" she chuckled at her own humour, and Booth just frowned in contemplation.

"Do you have a Little Bo Peep dress? 'Cause that would be interesting to see." She snagged an pine-cone from the decorative bowl on the table next to her and tossed it at him. He chuckled, catching it easily. "Come on, Bones, it'll be romantic. I'm have a romantic soul." She knew it, too. He'd been full of sweet ideas in the past month. Most of those ideas revolved around an entire day spent between her sheets, experimenting fully. She was instantly aroused at the very thought of his last venture.

Vanilla ice cream made his tongue very cold. But not cold enough that she didn't shudder every time it touched her clitoris.

"You alright, Bones?" He asked, rolling the ten dollars and tucking it into his pocket again. She stood, pressing her fingertips to her fevered cheeks.

"Lets do the rowing thing, then," she said, snagging her jacket off the bed. He followed her to the door, his fingers brushing her waist as he touched her, so subtly she could have believed it was by mistake. But none of Booth's touches were accidental. Each one was planned with a tactic in mind. She'd come to realise Booth had very good tactical skills.

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The lake bathed in a summery sun, was pleasantly warm when she dipped her hand into its waters, fifteen minutes later.

Before her, Booth pulled and pushed the long oak oars, dragging their little boat through the dark blue lake. High in the trees, birds chirped, filling the air with their melodic song. Brennan closed her eyes, and listened.

Instead of hearing cars, honking and sirens, she heard nature. Undisturbed nature. The birds, the rustling trees in the summer breeze, the rhythmic swoosh of the oars moving through the air, the splash as they impacted the water, and the droplets falling as they rose out again. She smiled.

"You look happy," Booth commented, stopping. The boat slowed moving only with the breeze-swept current.

"I am," she admitted, opening her eyes. "I really am." Her life had been filled with so much sorrow and pain – but since she'd found Booth, and their lives and merged into something she could only describe as perfect companionship, she'd been so happy. They connected. They were normal. It felt peculiar, but warm and comforting.

"I am too, Bones," he said. Next week, she was staying with him whilst he had Parker for the weekend. She was frightened as hell, but exhilarated that she'd been invited into the private part of his life. To be introduced into his son's life. As his… what… girlfriend?

She liked to think there was something else between them. There was something about the name 'girlfriend' and its associated 'boyfriend' that made her think they were beyond it's childish tag. Booth was, without a doubt, more than just a 'boyfriend'. She felt a deeper connection than that.

"Next week is a big thing…" she said, voicing her thoughts. Booth nodded.

"Yes. But don't worry, Parker will love you, Bones." Brennan smiled, shifting on her seat, nodding her head. "Because you're wonderful and he shares his daddy's judge of character." She thought of the little boy, who shared more than just his father's personality. He had the same dark looks and depthless eyes. She still remembered the staggering resemblance from the first time she'd met the boy.

When the hotel was out of sight, Booth switched seats, sitting next to her on the old wooden bench-style seat, the only sound now was the birds, and the trees, and the lake gently lapping at the pebbly beach. Brennan felt his arm slip around her waist, his thumb slipping beneath her shirt, rubbing circles against her skin. She leaned into him, the scent of him – the one that she associated with only him – lingered in the air, spicy and intoxicating.

"So, Booth," she said, bumping his knee with hers. "What did we come here for, then?" He turned his head, passing his lips along the shell of her ear. She trembled as his breath caressed her lobe.

"Well, today, I plan on making love to you. All day." She hummed in response, quite liking the idea. "Then tomorrow, it's in the itinerary to… make love… all day." She giggled, swatting his hand, turning to stare into his eyes, wide with arousal and love. Love like she'd never seen before.

"And what about Sunday?" He leaned forward, passing his lips over hers, his tongue tracing a moist, sweet line. She sighed against his mouth, her fingers curling in anticipation of the wondrous things that were to come – if she kept his promise of sweet love making, that was.

"Well, on Sunday we leave in the afternoon. So we have the morning free." She nodded against his lips, her eyes falling shut.

"And until the afternoon…?"

"Well I was thinking," he said huskily, "that we could make love…" she giggled again, allowing his tongue into her mouth. A soft moan escaped both their lips, as his arms folded around her and their entire bodies merged.

"I don't have a problem with that…" she replied, her body humming at the prospect of their three uninterrupted days of languorous, indolent and sultry sex.

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I wrote this chapter listening to a track called The Romantic Sea of Tranquillity. I am gutted that I only found it today because it was the most gorgeous track ever. Basically it's a relaxation tune, filled with the sound of the ocean lapping the shore and a little guitar ballad. It lasts for six minutes and I have it on repeat. It set the mood for me, so very well.

I hope you enjoyed. Was wondering, does anyone want to see Booth and Brennan's dirty weekend played out?