[A/N: I'm certain that this epilogue is far too light and too disconnected from the rest of the story to fit, but I can't make myself care. Relatively speaking, it's a "Happy-logue." It demanded to be written. Consider it a reward for surviving the angst and misery. After this epilogue got RIDICULOUSLY LONG, I told Skole that this might have been better as a separate, happy story, but I appear to be allergic to writing completely happy stories. I've tried and failed. More than once. Can't quite make it happen.

I am almost completely convinced that, were Brennan ever to decide to meet Booth somewhere close to halfway and give things between them a try, she might not have that much difficulty sticking to her decision once it had been made. I think making that initial decision is what is hardest for her—deciding that she's enough for him and that they can still work together is all that's standing in their way. I do think that, if she really made that decision and pushed her doubts aside, she'd be in completely—fully immersing herself in an experiment she'd enjoy more than she'd expected. That hypothesis underlies this epilogue.

If you don't buy Bones' actions in this epilogue, let me know. I welcome any and all comments and want to learn better how to understand her and her point of view. I'm still stumped that she hasn't just jumped him and held on for dear life. Clearly she's not thinking rationally….]

Epilogue for Translation (Part 1 of 2)

As she stood grating cheese beside the sink in Booth's kitchen, Brennan's thoughts returned to recent conversations and memories of her time with her partner.

The morning following their decision to pursue a relationship, Booth had woken first. He had lain there awake for more than an hour watching her sleep and trying to believe that she had really been in that hospital bed his arms. But as the clock had neared nine and the start of visiting hours, he had to consider that she was probably not ready for their friends and colleagues to walk in and find them sharing a bed. Personally, he wanted the entire world to know she'd given in, but he realized that his partner might need time to adjust to the change in their relationship before sharing it with others. He wanted to make this transition as easy as possible for her.

Booth tried again to nudge Bones to wake up. She rolled over the slightest bit and smiled up at him through sleepy eyes. "Morning, Bones," he whispered, nudging her so that she'd reach up and kiss him.

"Good morning," she whispered after the kiss. His heart caught in his throat for a long moment just watching her smile.

Finally recovering, Booth glanced toward the clock. "It's almost visiting hours, Bones."

"I'm well acquainted with the hospital's policy for constraining visitors, Booth. I've been here for days."

"I... Well, I just wasn't sure you'd want to be here... in my bed... if someone came in."

"I doubt that anyone will suspect that we've had intercourse, Booth. You just left intensive care."

"Jeez, Bones! It's early for explicit conversation. I just..."

"You were just trying to avoid making me face an uncomfortable set of circumstances. You do things like that. I thought we'd talked about this, Booth. We're in a relationship, and I see no need to be uncomfortable if people find out about it."

"Really? So you wouldn't feel at all awkward or uncomfortable if say... your dad or Sweets or... even Hacker walked in and found me kissing you in this bed?" he asked, more than a bit turned on by the mere idea of her reacting that well to telling people their news.

"You're the one more likely to be unnerved by the arrival of one of those people, Booth," she said, pulling away from him and getting up.

"Wait! Bones, if you're really okay, then stay..."

"No. I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable," she whispered smiling and watching his frustration build.

He had scowled at her once he'd realized she'd begun teasing him. Bones on a mission to tease him was a force that intimidated him—in a big way. He grinned at her—ready for that challenge and any other she were to throw at him.

"Seriously, Bones, I think we need to tell Max about this. He's asked before—about my intentions. He deserves to know that we're not sneaking around behind his back."

"I agree. I think that you should talk to him. I have never found it necessary to discuss my social life with my father, and I don't intend to seek his approval of my sexual partners now. However, you two share some common alpha male vocabulary and system of rules. Based on your history with a ritualistic communication method I still can't understand, I have to conclude that he'd appreciate hearing it from you."

"Partner. I'm your only partner," Booth half-growled. When she grinned at him, he tried to tamp down his jealousy, "Fine. I'll talk to Max," he agreed, motioning her over. Smiling at the earnest expression on his face, she leaned down and kissed him deeply. As she pulled back and enjoyed watching the flash of need on her partner's face, she walked away from him and asked if he'd also be the one to talk to Sweets.

"Screw the twelve-year-old. I can do without the smug expression he'll be wearing once he finds out. Nope. I'm not telling Sweets. Neither are you. He can find out from someone else."

Booth paused and watched her pull clean clothes from a bag so that she could dress for the day. "You should probably talk to Hacker, Bones."

"We weren't even really dating, Booth. I hardly owe Andrew an explanation..."

"An explanation about what?" the deputy director asked from where he had just arrived in the doorway to Booth's room.

Booth shot at look at Bones trying to tell her that this was her business to settle—not his. He wasn't optimistic that she'd read him correctly. Dammit, he didn't want to have to be the one to tell his boss to keep his hands off his woman, but he would, if necessary.

"Andrew, how kind of you to stop by and check on Booth," Brennan began with a genuine smile at the gentleman who looked puzzled as he stood in the doorway. Booth was so unnerved by her bizarrely normal social greeting of his boss that he said nothing.

"Booth's a tough old cuss. I knew he'd be fine. He's probably just extending his stay so that he can eat more pudding," Hacker joked with a smirk at his employee who returned the smile weakly. "But how are you, Temperance? I heard you'd been shot. I hope that it wasn't too serious. It must not have been. You look wonderful...," he added with a charm smile that wasn't quite as alluring as the one employed by his subordinate.

"I am recovering nicely, Andrew," Brennan said as she walked closer to Booth's bed.

"Bones, maybe you two should go get a cup of coffee or something," Booth offered. He wasn't at all eager to watch Bones trounce his boss' hopes—as long as she trounced them and quickly.

"Coffee sounds great. I think I saw a coffee shop on the corner," Andrew offered taking a step in her direction.

"Andrew, you have always told me that you appreciate my candor. Well, I feel the need to be completely candid with you now."

Before Booth realized what had happened, she'd slipped her hand into his. Halfway convinced he was hallucinating because of his medication, Booth watched the harsh reality wash over his boss even before she spoke again.

"Andrew, I cannot continue to date you," she said searching his face for understanding.

"Are you angry that I didn't come sooner to inquire about your health?" Andrew asked, still not sure whether she were holding Booth's hand for support or for another unwelcome reason. "My people assured me that you were in no serious danger."

"No, Andrew. I am not angry with you. However, I cannot date you or anyone else. I am... Booth and I have decided to initiate a relationship of our own. I would never be unfaithful to him. It is my understanding that continuing to date you would violate the social contract Booth and I have entered."

Had he not been so happy that she'd told him so boldly, so emphatically, Booth might have cringed. As it was, he tried to keep the grin on his face down to a wattage that would be less offensive to the spurned man before them.

Blushing more than a bit and glancing back and forth between them for a long moment, Hacker finally spoke, "I see. Well... I suppose congratulations are in order. I had always suspected that you two might be hiding something."

"Sir, we never...," Booth started explaining.

Hacker raised a hand to stop Booth from speaking and interrupted, "No explanation needed, Booth. Of course, we'll need to document the relationship, and your partnership will undergo increased scrutiny before you're allowed back into the field."

"But you won't stand in the way of our partnership, will you Andrew?" Brennan asked her need to work with her partner evident in her expression.

"Temperance, Booth's been in love with you for years. I've enjoyed watching him squirm to try to hide his feelings. He hated the fact that I asked you out. Your relationship has never presented a problem for the two of you before. I cannot imagine that it will now. In fact, I'm guessing that putting your relationship out in the open will make things more efficient and less dangerous for other agents who find you attractive and aren't skilled or smart enough to hide it."

"Sir... I...,"Booth began out of gratitude. He had no idea what the appropriate thing to say was, but Hacker was being extremely accepting and supportive, so he felt the need to say something.

"Booth, I can't blame you. She's an amazing woman. Don't screw it up." Relieved this was going so well, Booth opted to nod in response.

"Thank you, Andrew," Brennan said gratefully.

Despite that major setback, Hacker did an adequate job of paying the bureaucratic visit to a wounded agent. He did like Booth and had benefitted from his successful partnership with Temperance, so it wasn't too difficult to suppress his personal disappointment and wish them well. Because Booth was still bedridden and medicated, he remained an easy target and Hacker threw in a few more digs before leaving, but he was a pretty decent sport about having his hopes dashed.

As soon as the man had left the room, Brennan had leaned down and kissed Booth, and he had relished her tender touch as much as the words she'd just uttered about them.

Smiling as she remembered the look of wonder on Booth's face when she'd kissed him, Brennan checked on the food in the oven and then moved to set the table. She laughed at the mismatched tableware and linens she'd found. Booth had a surprisingly well stocked kitchen for a bachelor, but it quickly became obvious he had never replaced bowls broken or glasses chipped or cracked, so his sets of things were missing odd pieces. It was apparent that he didn't cook for crowds and that he wasn't overly concerned about the appearance of his table when he did prepare meals for others. Brennan made a mental note that she'd either need to bring more of her things over when she cooked or that she'd need to buy Booth a new set of cloth napkins and a serving platter.

Momentarily stunned by the fact that she was thinking of housekeeping for him and with him, she shook her head and continued with her task. She eased back into other memories to remind her why she had no reason to feel uneasy no matter what she was thinking about Booth.

That first night she'd brought him home from the hospital, Booth had insisted that she stay the night at his apartment. When she'd gone in and made up Parker's room for the night for her own use, Booth had whined, demanding that she stay in his room with him.

"I don't think that's appropriate, Booth. You're recovering and we..."

"You want me," he'd said with a grin that had betrayed the gloating he was now doing at her expense. Over the last few days, Brennan had learned that the unorthodox combination of pain medications and kissing were the antidote to Booth's reticence about sexual matters.

Unable to lie to him, she joked instead, "Well, you're the one who promised that you'd 'consume' me, Booth. I can hardly be expected not to dwell upon a scenario like that."

"Oh, you're mean. Really mean. You know I can't. Not yet. Doctor's orders."

As Brennan moved around the room slowly unpacking Booth's things for him, they continued talking. "I did think it was strange that Dr. Carson repeated the instructions about abstaining from sexual intercourse until at least your three week post-op visit. You didn't suffer any neurological damage. I'm not sure why he was so repetitive," she admitted as she pulled dirty clothing from the bag he'd used at the hospital.

Booth grinned. He knew that his doctors and everyone else who'd paraded through his hospital room had seen clearly what he felt for and wanted to express to his Bones. Still, he wasn't ready to say that out loud to his partner—not yet—not even on these meds, "He saw the way you looked at me, Bones. He was afraid you'd try to jump my bones."

Brennan had scoffed and made excuses, "You were the one leering at me whenever I was across the room. I'm recovering, too, Booth. Overactivity would not be good for either of us at this time. That is why I'm sleeping in the guest room."

"But Bones...," he whined, "I'll be lonely in here all by myself."

"Booth, it wouldn't be wise..."

She was surprised by the intensity of his outburst, "Screw being wise, Bones! We've been nothing but wise for years. We survived and we're giving this a try, and dammit, I want to kiss my girl."

She refused to allow him to see how moved she was by his honesty, "I am not your "girl," and I'm not sleeping in here. Pout if you will—and I know you're putting that pouty face on already—but I'm not giving in."

When she turned back around, he really had looked crestfallen. Her heart panged for him. God, how she hated seeing him look sad. Cursing her weakness and realizing that she was setting a dangerous precedent by giving in so easily, she walked over to him and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"It's just a bit longer, Booth. Soon we'll both be recovered and nothing will stop us from submitting to our hormonal urges," she said planting a tender kiss on his lips. Surprising her in that way to which she hoped she'd never grow accustomed, he grasped her upper arms and pulled her closer so that he could deepen the kiss. When she finally pulled back, they had both been breathing heavily. Suddenly three weeks seemed like an eternity.

"Don't you want to do... more of that?" Booth asked, his eyes sparkling with desire for her as a devilish grin flashed across his face. She didn't bother responding. They both knew that he'd never asked a more rhetorical question.

"You have pain medication to force you to sleep. I'd just have to lie here... frustrated."

"Not for long, baby. Not for long." She had blushed and he had tugged her back in gently for another kiss. She had eventually lost the battle and ended up sleeping curled next to him as the drugs had finally taken him under.

Surprisingly, she had had little trouble dozing off—Booth's body had been warm and strong and she had felt safe and protected in his arms. She'd always dreamt that being held by him would feel that wonderful. She was happy that it had.

T R A N S L A T I O N . . . T R A N S L A T I O N . . . T R A N S L A T I O N . . . T R A N S L A T I O N . . .

She had stayed with him for more than two weeks. She'd taken a week off work to recover and to care for him, and then she'd worked a shorter schedule for another week so that she could distract him in the evenings from his inability to be active. She knew that he'd have tried to return to the office if she hadn't "rewarded" him with time spent kissing as well as with movies to watch and games to play and new graphic novels to read in the evenings.

They'd enjoyed quiet nights on the sofa spending time talking and debating and bickering as they had for years, but the experience was made brand new by the fact that Booth could hold her hand and memorize its lines and curves and textures and that she could kiss him to win a debate instead of nudging him with an elbow or smacking him in a platonic, friendly way. They'd kissed endlessly and talked a great deal. Booth never seemed to tire of telling her how happy he was that she was giving them a chance—the only chance he knew they'd need to be together and be happy. With coaching, she'd talked to him to some extent about her own feelings and about her hope that she could follow his lead and enjoy the new experience of having a relationship with someone she deemed so personally significant.

By the end of the second week, Booth was out of bed all day except when sleeping. Pressing ahead of the schedule his physician had recommended, he'd begun weaning himself off his medications and had started taking long walks and doing light running on the treadmill. The more normal and fit he felt, the more demonstrative he'd become. Brennan had been far more intimidated by the tender words that seemed to flow so effortlessly from him than by the return of his physical prowess and stamina. Adjusting to a Booth who found even more opportunities to tell her how beautiful he thought she was and who held her so tenderly as they slept was far more difficult than adjusting to the way that his touches and his stares awakened deeper desire within her. Although their ability to react physically upon their newly confessed feelings had been limited by circumstances and Booth's medications, she'd known that those conditions were temporary. She hadn't quite been able to talk to Booth about the fact that she was afraid that physical intimacy would unlock an even deeper store of emotion and feeling and affection from him. She wasn't sure she was prepared to deal with happy, sappy Booth on a permanent basis.

Still, if anyone had asked her if they'd still not have consummated their relationship nearly a month after the shootout, Brennan would have insisted that neither of them would have been able to hold off that long. Despite her reservations, she'd made it clear that her intentions were for them to leap headfirst into all aspects of their budding relationship starting with the physical realm-arguing that so many years of silent longing had been more than long enough to wait. Booth had initially ignored her bold declarations about her plans for them to be intimate as soon as possible, but the more they'd kissed and talked and spent time together, the more she realized that he would give in to her demands without even considering a fight.

Still, as both of them had recovered and Booth had neared the three-week mark—the point at which he had hoped his activities would no longer be restricted, she'd gotten a call about a case and left a mopey Booth alone at his apartment to continue healing.

Assigned to work again on a temporary basis with Agent Perotta, Brennan had immersed herself in her work night and day. Booth had called often and ranted at her loudly for not returning to his apartment after work each evening. He'd also harassed Perotta, but she'd learned how to manage him when he was on medical leave and didn't allow him to bother her this time.

Now that she had left him to fend for himself at his apartment, Brennan had realized that she had begun avoiding him, but she had an ulterior motive she hadn't been ready to discuss with him. She had brushed off Booth's complaints—insisting that she had work to do and needed to retain some degree of independence from him even though they were now pursuing a relationship. She'd sent Sid and Charlie and different members of the Jeffersonian team by to appease him and distract him and take him food and supplies. Each had returned with a report of a grumpy FBI agent who had said for each of them "to send Bones back to his apartment, dammit."

After taking him for his post-op appointment, picking up an antibiotic to ward off what appeared to be an infection, and indulging in a long lunch back at his apartment to celebrate the fact that he was nearly completely recovered and that his doctors assured him that he would be 100 percent by the next weekend, Brennan had again slipped away again and avoided him skillfully. Despite her intentions to avoid him, she had spoken to him often, returned his pouty text messages, and thought of him constantly.

Booth had no way of knowing that the things she was doing that hurt his feelings were actually revealing the true nature of hers. Over time, Brennan had been relieved to realize that she missed him as much as he seemed to be missing her. She'd half-suspected that working at the lab would have pushed him from her thoughts or distracted her from her longing to be with him. It hadn't–at least not for more than small stretches of time. That helped convince her that her feelings for Booth were indeed genuine. If thoughts of Booth could exceed her ability to focus completely on her work, she had to admit that he had become more significant to her. She was compiling valuable evidence she needed badly—even if it was being gathered at the expense of spending time with Booth.

By the middle of his fourth week of recovery at home, Brennan had been close to wrapping up the case with Perotta with the single-minded intention of making sure she would be free to work only with Booth once he was back in the office. But just when she'd been prepared to call him and suggest that they go out on a date and reconnect, the head of the anthropology department at Harvard had called to remind her that she'd need to leave town for two days for a speaking engagement that had been confirmed months ago but that had not registered on her radar since her return to work.

Booth had taken the news of her ill-timed trip out of town rather poorly. She had actually been quite surprised that Booth hadn't shown up at the lab or at her apartment or even at the airport when she'd returned to town. He still hadn't been allowed to drive because of some of the medications he was still taking, and she had been relieved that he hadn't disobeyed doctor's orders. She had talked with him often and spoken to him by video when she'd been out of town, but she'd seen his frustration rise as the week had dragged on and he was still facing limited time to spend with her. She hated the mixed signals she appeared to be sending him, but she'd found that the more time she'd spent away from him, the fewer rational arguments she'd been able to concoct for doing so. She was finding it easier and easier to deem it only logical that she spend time with her partner no matter how emotional and sappy he'd become. Booth didn't know any of this, and she hoped that she wasn't hurting him by keeping her distance temporarily. She wanted to reveal her discovery in person, so she stalled and avoided him until that would be possible.

Booth and Rebecca had rearranged the visitation schedule and he had Parker for the coming weekend to make up for his spoiled birthday celebration and his dad's recovery time. Booth was looking forward to celebrating Parker's birthday, but that hadn't kept him from wishing he could spend some quality time with Bones. Changing the party plans completely for all their sakes, Booth had arranged to have his son and his son's friend sleep over on Friday night. Spending the evening with Bones without being able to focus on her would have been a disaster. And spending his kid's birthday not focused on him just wasn't going to happen, so Booth had resigned himself to the need to postpone any quality time with his partner. Parker had already been traumatized enough, so Booth had gritted his teeth and decided that he'd just have to wait a few days before kidnapping Bones and keeping her at his place or moving completely into hers. He was rapidly reaching the limit of his patience with the unnecessary distance she'd put between them.

Booth had rescheduled the fishing trip with Pops for Sunday afternoon and they men were due back from that trip any moment. Booth had been disappointed that they'd be forced to fish at the small lake at Pops' retirement home, but he hadn't yet been well enough to lug a bigger boat around and to make sure both his grandfather and his son had stayed safe. He promised himself and the two men he adored that they'd have a real fishing trip away when he was back to full strength. The silver lining in this plan had been that Parker had requested that Bones join in the birthday dinner celebration, and he had finally found a reason valid enough to buy him some time with his new girlfriend.

Brennan had been putting the finishing touches on the meal she'd prepared for her guests when she had received a text message that made her smile. She'd left Booth's kitchen instantly to look out the window. Her smile widened as the man she loved strode only slightly slower than normal from his SUV toward the apartment.

She'd been thrilled when he'd told her that Parker had asked that they have dinner with her that evening. She'd apologized for staying away for so long and suggested that they talk soon about their relationship. Pleased with Booth's enthusiastic response, she'd gone over early to cook for the men and had been eagerly anticipating their return to Booth's apartment.

Moments later, she turned to see Booth enter the apartment and rush to her, folding her into his arms and kissing her as eagerly as a soldier home from war might kiss his long-missed spouse. They were still standing there lip-locked when Parker and Pops entered the apartment.

"Ew!" Parker squealed, drawing laughter from his great-grandfather and blushes from his father and his girlfriend. "Pops, you were right."

"I'm always right, kiddo. You can't blame your dad. He wanted to kiss Dr. Brennan like that years ago. He's just making up for lost time."

"Jeez, Pops... You could have knocked or something for the kid's sake," Booth grumbled with a smile still on his face. He moved around behind Bones and wrapped his arms around her convinced that he'd never tire of the way that simple touch still stent him reeling.

"You two wouldn't have heard us knocking, Casanova. Mmmm... Something smells great."

"Bones has made us her incredible mac and cheese. She's a wonderful cook. Almost as good as you, Pops," he said, squeezing his partner's hands to let her know that his lie was only told to make his grandfather feel better.

The four of them had a terrific evening. After the Booth men had eaten every morsel of food Brennan had prepared, Pops had insisted upon helping her with the dishes so that Booth and Parker could spend some quality time together.

As they had been drying the last of the dishes, Pops looked serious for a moment, "He really loves you, Temperance."

She swallowed hard, tears filling her eyes with the realization that his words were true, "I... I care about him, too."

"I've never seen Seeley as happy with anyone else as he is with you. I'm glad you two are taking a chance on each other. He won't let you down."

"I know."

"Relationships aren't easy. But Seeley's as loyal and giving as they come. He just wants to be with you. Don't let the intensity of what he feels for you scare you away. He'll slow down if you ask him."

Brennan considered his words carefully. Months ago, "slow" would have been the only way she could have allowed herself to work on a relationship with anyone—especially with her partner. Now that she'd made her bold decision to pursue something more with her partner, she hadn't been feeling as much of a need to proceed with absolute caution as she'd expected she would. But she feared that her partner might need that type of protection. "Do you... do you think that's what he needs from me? Taking things slowly?"

"I'm an old man, so I'm gonna be blunt. I'm assuming he'll want to take his time seducing you properly—at least try to do that slowly. But nothing about that man says that he wants to do anything else except dive in headfirst to anything else you're willing to offer him."

She found his honesty so refreshing that she didn't let it embarrass either of them, "So traditional courting won't be necessary? I thought Booth might want that."

"He's in this for the long haul, sweetheart. There'll be plenty of time for all of those things. The order of them doesn't matter as long as you stay together and get to experience all of them together."

She smiled at him, and he returned her grin, happy to see her looking so relaxed and content to be pursuing a relationship with his grandson.

"Of course, if you want to torture him by making him wait to court you properly, I think I'd love to watch him suffer through it," Pops said, drawing a loud laugh from Brennan.

"What are you two talking about?" Booth asked when he and Parker appeared in the doorway a few moments later.

The dishwashers grinned conspiratorially at one another before Pops shrugged.

"Are you hitting on my girl, Pops? Because that would be wrong on too many levels."

"I tried. I'm not dead yet, you know. Temperance is an incredibly beautiful woman. But her heart's taken, son. Has been since I met her," Pops said with a wink at a smiling Brennan. He patted her shoulder and walked over to hand the dishtowel to his grandson. Booth took it eagerly and walked over to the sink to help Bones. Pops and Parker headed back into the family room to leave the lovebirds alone for a few moments.

"Do I need to ask him to back off?" Booth asked after indulging in a tender kiss.

"He wasn't actually hitting on me, Booth," Brennan insisted a bit frustrated that he might have believed the man.

"I mean about what he was saying to you. I know that look. Pops is meddling. I can make him stop."

"He's a charming man who's trying to help his grandson. I really enjoy talking with him. I never had a grandfather, Booth. It's nice to see what that relationship is like."

"Bones...," he sighed, pulling her into a hug. Moments like that always made him want to hold her. He was grateful that he could do so now without reservation. After a few moments, he pulled back and took her hands in his, "I wish we could have more time alone. I've missed you so much."

Looking up at him with an expression that told him clearly that he was not the only one longing for time alone, Brennan kissed him and then stood looking up at him with her arms now wrapped firmly around his neck, "Have dinner with me tomorrow night?"

"Sure. You mean... like on a real date?" Booth asked grinning and pulling her closer to him.

"Exactly. A real date," she replied happy that he kissed her hard instead of talking more about it.

[A/N: Hope you enjoyed this epi-bit. Believe it or not, this was the "short" part of the happy-logue….lol. Only 5,400 words… The next (final) part is nearly 10,000 words. Someone make me stop. I'm getting an identity crisis.]