"When I say, "I love you," it's not because I want you or because I can't have you. It has nothing to do with me. I love what you are, what you do, how you try. I've seen your kindness and your strength. I've seen the best and the worst of you. And I understand with perfect clarity exactly what you are. You're a hell of a woman." –Joss Whedon

Understanding

Booth was still trying to figure out how Bones had gone from being upset at herself for breaking down earlier to being mad at him when he realized that she was no longer beside him. With a heavy sigh he started brewing a pot of the strongest coffee he could find; it was going to be a long night.

As the coffee brewed, he cursed his sluggish brain for the umpteenth time. When he had first woken up from the coma, things had been very confusing. He recognized Bones instantly and was thrilled that she was the first thing he saw, but the images from his dream had been so life-like, it had taken him a few minutes to sort out whether she was "Bones" his work partner, or "Bren" his expectant wife. By the time he'd sorted things out, she had rounded up every specialist she could think of, convinced that he had some sort of coma-induced amnesia.

At her insistence the docs had looked him over and declared him mentally competent, though they warned that there always was the chance that his memory would have gaps along the way, given the trauma that his brain had been through. Until tonight the gaps had been few and far between and hadn't been a big deal. Now it was.

Almost as soon as Bones had started humming, he had recognized it as a song that he should know the title to, but that he couldn't quite nail down. The longer she hummed, the more her voice quavered, and the looks on the squints' faces became more and more grim, but he still couldn't connect the tune to the title.

Finally her voice grew louder and more intense and it clicked. In his mind he was back at the Checker Box, watching from the audience as his partner danced and sang on stage, her radiant smile making him feel giddy inside. He remembered taking out his lighter and waving it as she sang about girls just wanting to have fun. And then someone shouted his name, and the shot rang out, and Bones was holding him- the sound of her pleading voice melting as consciousness slipped away.

The sputtering of her coffee maker brought him back to the present. He grabbed the mug she'd gotten for him after his endless complaints that her set was too girly, along with the Smurfs one he'd gotten for her last Christmas and filled them as full as he dared. Leaving only the small light above the stove on, he checked to be sure that the door was locked and headed for the living room. She was curled up in one corner of the couch, head down as if asleep.

"I thought you'd left," she yawned, straightening as he approached.

"Never," he met her keen gaze, offering the coffee.

She took it and he released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, then sat down at the other end of the couch. The silence stretched out, but wasn't nearly as emotionally laden as it had been in the kitchen.

"You shouldn't make promises you cannot keep," her near-whisper boomed in the still apartment.

"I don't intend to," he spoke softly back, pouring every genuine feeling into his eyes.

She nodded sadly, "You are a good man, Booth, but you are neither omniscient, nor omnipotent."

"Guess that makes two of us, eh?" he gave her a lopsided grin.

Her nostrils flared at that, "Don't mock me, Booth!"

"Look," he said gently, "You claim that I'm not all-knowing or all-powerful, Bones, and you're right," he leaned forward and traced her jaw with his fingers, "But you aren't either so it's okay that you get shaken up by things; in fact, I'd be kinda worried if you didn't."

"I wouldn't have been shaken up at all if you hadn't jumped in front of that stupid bullet in the first place," she pulled as far away from him as she could.

"Dead people don't shake easily," he nodded with a smirk, "But don't think I did it totally for you."

Her jaw dropped a few millimeters and she gaped at him, "What do you mean?"

"Ah, Bones," he chuckled softly, tenderly tucking a lock of hair back behind her ear, "I took that bullet because I couldn't stand living in a world without you any more than you could without me."

"So you would do the same thing again should the need arise?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Yep," he nodded, then raised a finger, "With one exception, of course," she raised her other eyebrow and he grinned, "I'd call you myself instead of leaving it up to a shrink."

"Good," she said curtly.

She wrapped her hands around her mug and suddenly grew very interested with its contents, deliberately ignoring him. A year ago- back when they should've had this conversation instead of the shouting match in his bathroom- he had let her go once she'd cooled down. The coma dream, though, had given him a taste of what things could be like between them and after tonight he was ready to take the risk.

"I'm not a heart person like you, Booth" she said before he could figure out how to tell her how he felt without sounding like a lovesick teenager, "I look at the evidence, consider the implications, and act accordingly."

"And what do you see, Bones?"

"For quite some time now, I have observed that there is a level of rapport between us that goes far beyond that of mere partners," she said slowly and precisely, "This relationship- whatever it might be labeled- seems to evoke deep emotions between the two of us given the correct conditions. It has also led us to behave rashly where we otherwise would not have."

"Like jumping in front of a bullet?" he smiled warmly.

"Or stealing a cadaver by illegal means in order to secure pertinent information," she added.

"It hasn't been a good year, has it?" he shook his head with a wry smile.

"No," she agreed, "And while my preference would be for both of us to abstain from scenarios that would place us in mortal peril, that is unlikely given our chosen professions."

"There's always another bad guy."

"Very true," her voice was grim, "And thus we arrive at the crux of matter," she gave him a long look, "The line."

The line; she didn't have to explain any further. It had been haunting them since the day he drew it. It hadn't kept them from caring; hadn't stopped them from breaking the law for each other. All it had done was kept them from being honest about how they really felt about each other.

"We left the line in the dust a long time ago, Bones."

He paused, letting the full meaning of his words set in. A panoply of emotions danced across her face and before he knew it she was on his side of the couch, launching her lips at his. He let her kiss him, at the same time picking her up and setting her firmly on his lap.

The kiss intensified, tasting every bit as good as it had under the mistletoe. Their tongues danced feverishly at first before settling into a rhythm of controlled passion and their mutual love was exchanged in a glance without a single word being spoken. He wasn't sure exactly where he could put his hands without fear of her snapping them off, so he stuck just to holding her against him.

"Mister Booth," her voice was low and sultry as they stopped to get some air. She reached up and released her hair from its loose ponytail, sending it cascading down her back and around her neck, "Do you know what the punishment is for an overdue book?"

He laughed. She winked. And the rest was history.