Title: This is Life

Disclaimer: Not mine. Not at all. Awww.

Rating: T.

A/N: The course of true love never did run smooth. It definitely hasn't for Brennan and Booth. I want reviews.

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She was asleep when he reached her apartment at seventeen minutes past one.

Only the newly washed, silken strands of her hair peeked from above the blanket which she'd pulled against her, held by a tight, knuckle whitening fist that hadn't relaxed, even with sleep.

From the doorway he watched her for a long, passing moment where he heard only the soft whisper of her breath as it brushed against the fresh cotton pillowcase. Normally he was filled with such joy when he silently observed her – but tonight he was filled with a gnawing anxiety that he couldn't share with anyone, especially not her.

In the past few months, since she was shot, he'd come to a stark almost frightening realisation that the world and its people were vulnerable and never safe. Even if he could somehow ensure she never met another criminal in her life, she could be hit by a truck or be struck down by a disease.

It had scared him so much, earlier, when Romany had called with news of another body and an foreboding prediction that there would probably be more. As he'd sat in the restaurant, listening to her talk, as she voiced her own need to seal something between them, he'd detached himself because each time he looked at her, sweet and sometimes naïve, he wanted to protect her. Impossibly. There was simply no way to ensure she would never be taken from him.

Her lovely eyes would one day no longer see him and her heart would not feel love because she'd be dead. What would happen then? How could he be anything but afraid when he felt such deep, loyal love for her? They'd been through an emotional eternity of grief, leaning on each other and sometimes making it worse but as December was firmly established on the calendar, they'd closed the gap and the chasm that had once separated them had become a little brook. They were back in each others arms and he hated that, with each passing investigation, the fear of losing her rooted itself deeper and deeper into his psyche until he was almost delirious with fear.

Last week he'd woken in the middle of the night drenched in sweat and gripped with panic, his heart cold and pounding, his fingers numb with dread as he'd searched the empty sheets, blindly searching, only to find that she'd gone to the kitchen for a glass of water.

And as the murder case he worked on now got darker and drearier the worry that distracted him had caused such hurt in her eyes when he'd asked with such disregarding blasé if she wanted to get married. Her hesitating 'hell no' had been a mixture of confused disbelief and aching pain.

Did he want to marry her? God, yes. He'd gladly call her his wife – if only he could erase the fear. Would he ever accept the careful balance of life? Probably not. He had never loved another woman like he loved Temperance Brennan.

And now he was seized with a different kind of panic. If she was pregnant he had another infinite love to contend with. How could he protect his baby? He couldn't protect the one that had died in her womb…

Crouching at the edge of the bed, he stroked her temple, watching as her eyes danced behind her lids and her lips parted, subconsciously aware of him. He had always loved her reaction to his touch – whether she was awake or asleep. And tonight was no different.

So vulnerable and so fragile, he wanted to cocoon her in safety, to ensure that the foetus they had created together was protected. He wanted to tell her how much he cared. How much he loved her. But he'd acted like such an ass, earlier, excusing himself from the restaurant and walking around the city in a snow coated daze.

How had she gotten pregnant? They never made an effort to use protection because after her passionate refusal of ever having another baby, he'd assumed she was on her own birth control. A foolish assumption on his part. But it wasn't him who didn't want a child. He was exhilarated at the prospect of watching a baby grow within her. His baby.

Pressing his cheek to the bed, he suspected it was the particularly active night a few days after her belly-dancing routine when he'd followed her to the gym that had gotten her pregnant. He'd helped her practice her self defence moves which had turned into a sweaty and lengthy sex session on the mats which started with him licking every inch of her body until she practically begged him to be inside her.

He stroked her cheek now and her breathing hitched. He suspected she was awake but far from prepared to forgive his typically manly show of denial, earlier.

"I love you," he said to her expressionless features. "You've got my head in a mess, Bones. I've been going crazy learning how damn hard it is to love. I'd say I'm a fairly worldly man… I've seen plenty of things. Few of them good. I've watched people die, seen women lose their husbands and watch men reduced to nothing when they lose their wives. I'm gripped with fear, now, Temperance. I've got a phobia of being alone," he sighed. "Not alone… no… without you. I'm out of my mind in love with you and if I lost you I don't know how I could cope. I don't even know if I could."

He prised her hand from her blanket, smoothing her slender fingers out, aligning the soft digits with his own.

"I can't believe how much I've fallen for you. Or how much my 'single man' life has been turned into something else. What we've been through together, some couples don't go through in twenty years of marriage. But then… most men wouldn't let their wives be gunned down…" he heard himself sigh, felt the eternal guilt tug at his heart. "I've been distracted because I don't know how to handle love. I'm a bit of an amateur, really. But then, I know you are too so…" he chuckled a little, linking his fingers with hers, now. "I'd marry you tomorrow, Bones. Now. This minute. But I can't say I won't spend every day worried that I'll lose you. I just… can't." He passed his lips over her knuckles, pressing a tentative kiss there.

She shifted beneath the blanket, her eyes parting.

"Come to bed," she whispered. "I'm cold…"

She didn't say anything else and he didn't especially need her to. Perhaps he couldn't protect her from death. But he could keep her warm and for now, it would have to be enough.

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I want Booth and Brennan to get married.

Oh well…