Hey! I'm trying to post at least once a week, and Thursdays during a hiatus seem like the perfect time. Of course, it's nearly midnight, but...well, oh well!

Hope you like this one. Let me know what you think! Thanks to SkoleBone for the title-musing :)

-b&b-

It happened in a flash. A spark in an otherwise ordinary moment. Then again, had they ever been ordinary? Or maybe the spark was ordinary, or at least, the status quo. But it was new and familiar at the same time.

Him on his couch, flat on his back with his heat resting on the arm of the couch and his knees slightly raised, both to relieve pressure on his back and to make room for her to sit near his feet.

They'd been doing that a lot lately, making room for one another. It seemed strange in its deliberateness. Before, there hadn't been a conscious effort to make room; the space had always just been shared. Perhaps at the beginning…the very beginning, there had been an effort, but mostly…it was just being. Being together. But this was a new togetherness. Yet, it felt like old times.

Even if they'd never quite had old times like these.

But the flash came when she stood up to make her way to the kitchen.

"Another beer?" she'd asked, and he'd grunted and shrugged a shoulder.

"Sure," he answered with a single nod, his eyes still focused on the baseball game on TV. "Thanks, Bones," he murmured offhandedly, and as she passed him by, he lifted his hand and fleetingly cupped her leg, just between her bare calf and her knee.

It was such a casual move, the equivalent of patting her arm or bumping his knuckles against her shoulder in thanks. He wasn't touching her in much of a way that he hadn't before.

Except it was his bare palm cupping her bare leg. That was new.

A casual connection turned immediately intimate, the sound punctuated by Brennan's sharp gasp. Maybe that was what kept his hand in place. If she'd continued to walk toward the kitchen, he likely would have let his fingers slip over her skin, releasing her as she moved out of his reach. He was still in the exact position, his knees up, his bare feet planted on his couch, his neck elevated. He wasn't moving after her, not following her.

But she was there, literally, in the palm of his hand. And she wasn't moving. She hadn't moved on.

The bottom of her skirt fell just below her knee. If he moved his hand upward, he'd be cupping the back of her knee. His eyes became focused on the navy blue swirled print of her skirt, his vision nearly blurring after staring at it too long. Instinctively, his fingers tightened a fraction, and her gasp this time was even louder. Booth's eyes flew to Brennan's face and then went wide at the passion in her expression.

Flushed cheeks, parted lips, bright eyes beneath heavy lids.

He couldn't move, but knew he needed to. Or at least, if anything else was going to happen, he needed to move. He needed to physically move from his position on his back and…do something.

She was literally standing there. Literally not going anywhere. But it was more than literal too. It was the truth. It was literal and the truth, which didn't make sense. Except it did. Which also didn't make sense, except…that it just did.

It just did.

And now he needed to just…do something. Either touch her more or let go of her.

His fingers flexed and his chest felt tight at his own self-imposed ultimatum.

The curve of the back of her knee beckoned him, and he followed the call, sliding his hand up her leg until her skirt was brushing against his wrist as he touched her.

Higher, and she gasped again, this time more desperate and at a higher pitch. In his peripheral vision, he saw her fingers flex at her sides, twisting one another for some kind of control.

And when he moved his hand even higher, cupping the back of her smooth thigh, she fell forward, the front of her leg hitting the couch. But still, Booth felt almost frozen in place.
"Bones," escaped his lips in a dark murmur,

"Booth," she replied, permission and question both rolled up in her tone.

"I don't know," he admitted, unsure what exactly he didn't know about. "I mean..."

"I know," she shifted, her own hand coming to rest on his forearm, keeping his hand in place. "It's okay."

"What if I…" Booth breathed out, now suddenly completely aware of exactly what he knew.

"You won't," she insisted, her eyes fluttering shut, and her body rocking forward in small, almost imperceptible motion. "You won't fail."

The faith in her voice seeped into his skin, straight to his heart. She didn't even believe in faith, but somehow it was all enough.

"Bones," he murmured again, and she swayed slightly.

"Booth," she also repeated.

And he knew it was still his move, still his call. He could release her. Or he could…

He could do something…

Willing his back to support him, Booth swung his legs to the floor, wincing once as his feet hit the hardwood. With his hand, he nudged Brennan closer, lifting his other hand to cup her other leg in the same place until she was standing between his legs.

Keeping his gaze on hers, he stared at her, measuring her expression as he moved his hands up to wrap around her hips, using her body as leverage to stand fully. Up this close, he could see the way the track of her eyes skimmed over his mouth. Her own lips parted, and he could not resist.

Leaning toward her, he watched as she met him halfway and their lips met. Both of them sighed and his fingers flexed again.

When her own hands clutched at his shirt, Booth groaned and deepened the kiss, his eyes fluttering shut in bliss.

She tasted like redemption. She felt like cool rain in the desert. Like American soil after war. Like a good dream after a bad day. Or a good day after a bad dream.

Booth pulled back to pull in a gasp of natural air, his body rebelling at needing it to survive. And in that moment, Brennan pressed her face to his neck, kissing him softly, running her lips along the line of his jaw. He groaned, and his hands moved down beneath her skirt, smoothing it up until he was cupping her bottom in his hands, bare except for a pair of silk panties.

"Booth," Brennan rasped out a moan, her teeth scraping against his neck as she shoved her hands under his t-shirt. Booth watched her frown when she realized the only way to remove his shirt would mean him not touching her.

He released her and pulled his shirt off, revealing himself to her. But when her eyes met his and stayed there, he realized he was still revealing plenty, and they both knew it.

Her cool fingers settled on his shoulders, and she stood on her tiptoes, capturing his mouth with hers once again. Their tongues tangled so sweetly, Booth thought he might explode from pleasant pressure. Arms still at his sides, his fingers flexed, and when Brennan pressed against him, he couldn't help but wrap his arms around her waist, pulling her as he fell backward. He kept her close as he fell, knowing she trusted him to catch her.

Her faith in him was his evidence, and his back hit the couch as her front hit his. Her knees straddled his hips, her arms now wrapped around his neck, her lips still plastered to his.

More…he needed more.

He yanked at her shirt, and her arms lifted as he pulled it over her head. His head hurt as he tried to figure out how to get her out of her skirt when she was over him. But she just reached behind her with one hand and unzipped it. The waistband was loose enough that he also pulled it over her head and shoulders, and he could have sworn she laughed, the sound muffled by the navy swirled fabric. But then she was nearly all bare in his arms, her long waist and torso on display. Her bra and panties didn't match, and for some reason, that made him smile. He'd always imagined her as a matcher. Smoothing one blunt fingertip along the strap of her bra, he felt her shiver and watched as her nipples tightened in response. One thumb hinged upward until he brushed the straining peak through the silk of her bra.

"Booth," Brennan nearly grunted, but the sound was feminine and strong and sexy as hell. In that instant, he wanted nothing between them. He unclasped her bra and the silk fell between them. Then he fell on her, his mouth open on her skin.

He kissed her curves, following her moans and the feel of her fingernails against his bare back. She was on him, but he was leaning over her, keeping her up with his hands as he moved closer and closer to her nipple. She clamped her hands on his shoulders and held on when he finally sucked her into his mouth.

"Oh, Booth. Yes. So good…"

He imagined agreeing with her, but didn't say anything, keeping his mouth occupied with pleasing her. She was so sweet, so strong and so special, he could hardly stand it.

Because of their positions, he couldn't move his hands, but she could move hers, and she scraped her nails down his chest, feeling each and every muscle on his stomach. And then he felt her nimble fingers at his waist. In the next instant, he felt a rush of freedom as his hard cock spilled from his jeans into the confines of her waiting hands. "Oh yeah," his neck tensed, and he fell back against his couch. She fell forward, and her breasts pressed against his chest.

"Oh, yeah," he repeated, lifting his hips and allowing her to shove his jeans down his thighs.

His thumbs hooked into her panties, and as he pulled down, their bodies moved in unison until he was once again flat on his back, staring up at her.

Brennan arched back, far enough to pull her underwear the rest of the way off. She watched him in her close and careful way as he shoved his jeans and boxers off as well. Then and only then did she move, placing her knees once again on either side of his hips. This time they were both naked, both gloriously bared for the other.

Booth's throat felt tight as he spanned her trim waist in his hands and trailed his touch down to her curvy hips. His eyes skimmed up to her breasts, full and pale and perfect. "Fantastic," he murmured, leaning up to capture a swaying breast in his mouth, sucking harder than he had so far.

"More," she panted, arching her back and shoving more of her flesh toward him, her body begging in tandem with her words. "More, more, more."

Booth caressed her thighs, letting the side of one hand slip between them, sliding along her slit, and he could feel how wet she was. When she ground her hips downward, wanting more of his touch, he was helpless to resist her. Palming her core, he pressed upward, letting her ride his hand, the very hand that had started this entire thing.

With his lips still wrapped around one tight nipple, he let his top teeth gently scrape against its underside, eliciting a wild moan from his partner's parted lips. He wanted more of her.

Rotating his hand on her, he let his other hand smooth down her back until he was cupping her gorgeous bottom, pressing with both hands as she rode between them. Her own hands pressed to his shoulders as she stared straight ahead. Booth watched as her eyes squeezed shut and he saw the moment before she was about to come apart against his hand.

He wanted her orgasm, but she had another idea. "I'm not coming without you, Booth," she stated, quietly, but confidently.

And she didn't. She took his almost painfully hard penis in her smooth hand, her fingers wrapping around his size. A soft hum escaped her lips as she stroked him, admiring his length and thickness. "Not without you," she repeated before she rose over him, positioning him where he belonged. She gritted her teeth as she rotated her hips, until finally, he was embedded up to the hilt in hot, wet, tight…so fucking tight...home beyond his wildest dreams.

Her breathing was ragged, and her neck muscles slightly tensed as she began a soft rocking motion. Booth's hands fell to her hips as he followed her rhythm, gritting his teeth in an effort to help her keep her promise. He wasn't coming without her. He wasn't going anywhere without her either.

Not anymore.

"Faster," she begged, though she was the one who'd set the pace.

But he didn't complain. Instead he stretched his legs, planting his feet against the other end of the couch. The pressure gave him leverage to buck beneath her, making each and every slide of his cock in her body even deeper and fuller.

"Yes," she rasped, her neck rotating in pure ecstasy. Her hair fell around her shoulders, her breasts crowned and bounced with every forward piston of her hips. "Fuck, you're amazing, Bones. So fucking gorgeous."

Her hips began a circular rotation, the hum in the back of her throat grew deeper, and her body grew wetter. "You are quite fucking amazing yourself, Booth," she repeated his words. "I believe I've always thought so."

Her breathy and practical compliment knocked loose a tumbler of his control, and he matched her rhythm. One of his hands moved to her stomach and his thumb burrowed its way between her thighs. He slicked it around her core a few times until he had enough moisture to settle in. He set up a tapping rhythm, not applying any pressure.

"Oh yeah," his queen of silence barely articulated. Booth watched as Brennan's eyes seemed to snap with awareness. Then she was leaning close to him, her forehead resting against his. Booth felt himself tighten, almost to the point of no return. But then he felt her flutter around him and realized they were going to come, both of them.

"Bones," he growled, and she caught the sound with her own mouth, taking possession of what was hers, what he'd given her all those years ago when he'd first called her that.

And he took possession too, clasping her bottom in his hands and thrusting upward, spilling into her, and feeling the way she clenched on him, coming so hard, he wasn't sure he would survive.

But he did, and she did too, and when their breathing returned to halfway normal, he felt her press a kiss to his shoulder.

"Damn, Bones," Booth groaned, one hand smoothing over her hair and down her back. "This is my couch. Not…well, not exactly the nicest."

He felt the blush on his neck and cheeks, and heard the vulnerability in his voice. But she didn't look up, didn't do anything but snuggle deeper into his chest, pressing another kiss where his shoulder met his neck. "I want to be where you are, Booth," was all she said as she rested her head near his arm.

Booth's arms wrapped around her and he considered her words. "I want to be where you are too, Bones."

He felt her smile against his skin. Felt the soft trace of her fingers against his chest. Felt the slippery glide of her hair over his neck. And he felt the sure beat of her heart.

They'd been doing it a lot lately, making room for one another. From then on, it was less conscious, and more…just being.

-b&b-