~o~Counting Backwards While the Stars Are Falling ~o~

"Dad!"

"Yeah, Park?"

"Where're you?"

"In the bedroom, bud. I told you I'd be back here packing." Booth can't help but roll his eyes and grin at the typical lack-of-attention response from his eight-year-old ("Eight-and-a half, Dad!") son.

"Oh yeah." Parker enters the room, tossing his baseball in the air and catching it in his glove most of the time. "You wanna go play ball, Dad?"

"Sure thing. But let me finish a little of this packing first, okay?" He ruffles his son's floppy hair as he passes by him to his dresser. "We got distracted by Lego Star Wars for a while there and I need to get a bit more of this done."

"Okay, I'm going to go watch TV."

As his son trundles off down the hallway, Booth thanks his lucky stars, his God - anyone who will listen - for his understanding, fun-loving, inquisitive and overall resilient kid. Nine years ago he'd never predicted himself to be in quite this situation, but he literally wouldn't change a thing. Every point up to now has made him who he is, made his son who he is - and brought him to this point with his partner, the seemingly least likely person to be the fulfillment of his every dream. But no-one else can even hold a candle. And the fact their flame was very nearly snuffed out just makes it all the more precious.

Fate.

He laughs under his breath, thinking of Bones' response to that, and allows his mind to drift as he gathers boxers, t-shirts and a couple pairs of brightly colored socks from his drawers and carries them to the suitcase open on the bed. Recalling the previous few days, everything seems such a blur since their lovely night of dinner and dancing and then ending up back at her place for the pure heaven that followed (as per routine, at least the past three weeks). But since then, they'd only spoken on the phone a few times during the days, both busy (and deliberately devoted to) making sure things were left as prepped, completed and organized as possible before their absence.

They'd only shared one meal together - a late night dinner at the diner before he'd driven her back to the Jeffersonian to get her car, making her promise to go home and sleep. A short kiss and a hug and they went their separate ways (anything but routine, and more difficult than he would have ever imagined).

He misses her.

Although his precocious son manages to keep him busy and his mind occupied most of the time, this new realm of his ever-complicated, ever-growing relationship with Bones remains an ever-present and pleasurable pre-occupation. He wouldn't trade his time with Parker for the world - that's why he insisted to Rebecca that he keep at least Friday and Saturday of his weekend with his mop-topped munchkin - but he has to admit to his mind wandering more often than usual.

After a couple hours of catch and visiting the playground at the nearby park (where he refrained from the slide - no back injuries right before vacation, thankyouverymuch), Booth sits across a diner-table from his not-so-little-anymore boy.

After chewing his last bite of cheeseburger and draining his large glass of Coke, Parker clasps his hands in his lap and queries his father, oh-so-businesslike – well other than his legs swinging back-and-forth underneath his chair. "Dad, where're you going again?"

He really does hate lying to his son, despite what he'd told Bones in the past. Yeah, some things, like Santa and 'Africa' are just necessary for any child's proper development and well-being, but this… he just wishes he could go ahead and share this amazing part of his life with his kid.

This boy and this woman are the two most important people in his world - the two most precious 'things' he has going for him right now, the two individuals, bar none, that he would give his life for in a heartbeat - it'd be his last heartbeat and he'd be okay with that. To him, that's love, and it comes with the territory.

(Never mind the fact that he hasn't told the love of his life this, in so many – okay, three - words.)

But lying to his boy about this… well, it's necessary because Park can't keep a secret worth a damn - like the time he let him have a small sip from his beer bottle, and of course Parker hated it, but boy did he hear about it from Rebecca when the boy let it slip that "Beer is so gross, Mom!" - and if Rebecca found out about this? Well, put it this way - as much as he loves her, because no matter what, she is the mother of his son, there's no way in hell he wants her to be the first (well, second now… damn Sweets) to find out about the extent of his and Bones' relationship. No way, no how.

So…

"Bones and I have to go away this next week…" and here comes the hard part, "…for work." He bites his lip, hard, and waits for the inevitable twenty questions.

"Oh. Okay." Head bobbing, legs swinging, Parker begins to nibble on his last few fries. "Can we get pie?"

Booth takes a deep breath - overly-concerned-parent, completely-oblivious-child moment? Check.

"Sure thing, bub. Wouldn't be a proper diner experience without pie, right?"

Parker grins, then his face falls just a bit. "I like when Bones eats with us. Even though she never eats pie." His expression morphs into a mask of utter childish disbelief - who in their right mind would never eat pie? Especially all warm and ooey-gooey with vanilla ice cream on top? Booth can just hear the 'Girls are weird' sentiment now. And, in this case, seconds it.

"Me too, Parks, me too. Maybe next time she can come eat with us, okay? She had some things she needed to do tonight."

Rebecca shows up a few minutes after they've demolished every last smidge of cherry and morsel of crust on their plates, leaving that little ring of melted ice cream that just won't lend itself to being scooped. If they were at home, Booth knows his son would be licking his plate clean.

"Seeley…"

"Hey, Becs." He stands and leans in to kiss his ex's cheek as she crosses to sit by their son. "Thanks for letting me and Parker keep most of our weekend."

"It's fine. We're planning on going to the hot air balloon festival tomorrow anyway - Parker loved it last year."

"That sounds great, huh Big Guy?"

"Yeah! Too bad you and Bones gotta go out of town, Dad - you could see them, too!"

Rebecca's brow lifts a metaphorical mile. "Oh, you didn't say Dr. Brennan would be going, too."

Trying desperately not to squirm in his chair, he responds, "Well yeah, I told you it was work-related. Most of my work relates to Bones - and bones. Both…" He can't stop his hand before he's rubbing his forehead, unconsciously trying to smooth out his creased brow, "…those things. Well, both the person and the things." God, Seel, shut up!

Rebecca just smiles and nods. "Oo-kay. So, Parker, you ready to go? We may have just enough time to get home and watch a movie before bed."

"Popcorn?" The boy's face lights up like Christmas and Booth can't help his own broad smile that follows on the heels of his relieved-to-be-out-of-the-spotlight exhale.

"We'll see…" she tells her son. Then to his father, "Have a good trip, Seeley. Be safe…"

"Thanks, Bec." He throws money on the table to cover their meal and escorts them out, holding Parker's hand and giving him a big bear hug before sending them on their way. "Love you, Parks!" He calls as the boy walks away with his mother.

"Love you too, Dad!" The words are the best music to his ears.

Ducking his head and digging his hands deep in his pockets, he walks down the block to his car, wondering at how much lighter his step feels after giving and receiving those simple words with his son.

And then those thoughts become this: just how much more will it be when he finally says them to her? And he can't help but hope beyond hope that Temperance Brennan will say them in return…

~o~

Once home, he grabs a bottle of water and goes back to his bedroom to finish packing a few more things. Moving around the bathroom gathering various toiletries, he realizes his electric razor is still at Bones' place. He'd been meaning to ask her to bring it to him, but had stuck with wet shaving for the past few days. On vacation, however, he figures he'll most likely want the electric. He'll have to remember to get it in the morning.

He looks at his watch - it's not that late yet. He could call her, ask her to pack it into her things. Or better yet…

He runs through his mental checklist of what he has left to do before leaving his apartment for a week.

Yeah, oh yeah - an even better solution presents itself and he smiles, picking up the pace, knowing the payoff will be super sweet.

~o~

He decides against knocking and just uses his key, assuming (hoping?) she is already in bed.

Her suitcase is sitting near the front door and he places his beside hers, so they'll be ready to catch the cab to the airport in the morning… well later this morning. It took him a bit longer than he'd expected to get everything together - he'd finished packing, showered away the day, plus made a quick stop at a 24-hour drug store for some last-minute necessities.

He drops his keys and phone next to hers on the side table, toes out of his shoes and strips off his socks, padding barefoot down her hallway towards the bedroom. Stopping to lean on her door frame, he allows his eyes to adjust to the dimness of the room. Her outline on the bed is evident. She's on her side… and on her side. He can't help but smile at how little time it took to fall into those roles. His and hers.

How little time? His smile fades and he takes a deep breath, pushing off the threshold and entering her room. Try six years… but who's counting.

Especially when the last three days away from her may as well have been forever.

He steps closer, his toes clenching into the thick plush carpeting of her bedroom. One of her bare feet is hanging over the side of the bed, the dim light from her bathroom illuminating glossy (pink? light red?) toenails peeking from under the sheet. He lets one finger drift across a smooth crescent and smiles when her foot twitches slightly.

She does not wake and he can't wait any longer. Stripping down to just his boxers, he rounds the bed and crawls in behind her, pulling her flush against him and settling the covers over top of them both.

"Mmm... Booth?"

"You were expecting someone else?"

"I wasn't even expecting you." He hears her smile as she turns in his arms to face him, her cheek snuggling into his chest, her whole body tucking close into his embrace. "You're warm."

He reaches down to lift her chin, bringing her face, her lips to his own.

A single taste. He needs...

Oh, three days without and he's like a man in the desert suddenly given unlimited cool, fresh drinking water. He falls into her, re-familiarizing himself with every contour, every curve, every dip and valley that is so deeply ingrained in him he'd never forget it anyway.

But when it's someone you love, it's never a chore to return. To retrace. To relearn.

To come home.

"I missed you, baby." He pushes her hair out of her face, looking for her soothing ocean eyes. "What'd you do today?" The perfect line from her chin to her ear calls to him. He gives in and nuzzles all the way to the light beauty mark he knows is about two-thirds of the way down her neck.

"Worked a bit in the morning... Ohh... um, met Angela for lunch..."

"Got your nails done." He lifts her hand, running her smooth nails across the stubble on his cheek and bringing them to his lips, kissing each tip before laving her thumb with his tongue.

"Booth... Ange knows." Her voice sounds appropriately breathless, but small.

"Mmm yeah, she probably got hers done, too. Right?" He kisses along her wrist, forearm, raising above her to feast on the delicious curve of her elbow, pressing her soft body underneath him.

"She knows... about us."

"What? Bones?" He still has hold of her wrist, all action ceasing as his eyes search hers, needing explanation.

"I... I'm sorry – she found your fairly obvious gift Friday night. And I couldn't lie to her, Booth. I tried... it wasn't pretty."

He sighs, knowing it was bound to happen. He'd hoped they'd have at least made it to the airport first. "Is she... what'd she say?"

"She was... vocal in her support."

"And then swore on her firstborn to keep her mouth shut?"

"Angela's not pregnant, Booth. But yes... she's going to keep our secret. For now. I hope."

He drops his head to her chest, just resting upon her softness, hearing her steady breaths, enjoying her fingers automatically stroking his hair.

"Are you... mad? At me? Cause I failed to-"

"No..." She sounded so small, so disappointed in herself and he could never stand for that. "No, Bones. It's okay. We're leaving in the morning. Nothing can put a damper on this."

She kisses his hair and he presses a kiss to her t-shirt covered breast.

"I could've told Parker."

"You still can..."

"I'll call him. Let him know we made it okay." He lifts up on his arms to hover above her. "But I think this is something we should tell him together. In person."

She nods. "If you're sure."

"Of course I'm sure, Bones. He'll be great. You'll be great. My kid loves you." I love you.

Their eyes hold for a long moment... he has the feeling he's being thoroughly searched. It's not unpleasurable. He's finding her intensity and single-minded focus – usually only observed with a pile of bones in front of them – to be almost refreshing. Put it this way, better him than... someone else.

Keeping his eyes open, he leans in and kisses her softly. "Are you tired?"

"A little." She glances to the bedside clock. "And we have to be up in about three hours."

He rolls to his side and pulls her to him, wrapping his arms around her from behind and nuzzling into her hair. "Sleep then, babe. I don't want anything keeping us from making that plane."

She squirms a little, finding a comfortable position, her bottom nestling perfectly against him.

"Bones, please don't make me regret saying that."

"Booth," she sighs as he moves her hair back to kiss her neck just below her ear. "I missed you, too."

TBC...