"Hot coffee."

The early dawn light filtered along the reflecting pool, soft yellow washing over the sky and giving the whole world a sort of hazy golden quality. It was quiet, only the faint droning of distant cars and subtle fluting birdsong broke the silent stillness. In their little world around the bench next to the water, it was peaceful, but Dr. Temperance Brennan's mind wouldn't quit.

"After we do the visual and microscopic examination of each human bone in the silver skeleton, we'll take samples and do an in-depth osteological breakdown." She shook her head ruefully. "We really have a lot to do."

Her partner turned even further towards her, quirking one eyebrow. "Yeah, starting with coffee."

She accepted the proffered cup absently, fingers curling around the dimpled styrofoam as she chased the warmth radiating from the bottom of the cup, mind already racing ahead.

"An isotope profile will allow us to narrow down possible geographical hits . . ."

Dwindling off, she followed the rich trail of scent emanating from her cup as she raised it to her lips, still debating the uses of carbon vs strontium half-lives to establish a geographical profile based on zircon distribution.

"Hey!"

Blinking, she paused as something brushed gently against her lips, covering the cup.

Oh.

His hand.

Pressed against her skin, she could feel the heat radiating from his hand. His scent invaded her nose; soap, pine, sweat, and the smell of coffee wafting up from between his fingers. It got in her head, scrambled her senses till her head swam, and all she could smell was Booth. A shiver crawled down her spine as she flicked her eyes up to meet his, and they were deep and concerned.

His voice softened. "It's hot."

Something tightened in her chest, her breath hitching. She allowed him to press the cup back down into her lap, the contact between them dissipating just as she took an involuntary gulp of air straight from his skin. The dizzying mixture of scent shot straight through her body, making her fingers tingle and her head spin.

Just dopamine and norepinephrine, getting released from the hypothalamus, that's what's causing this reaction.

Booth cleared his throat slightly, and when he spoke, his voice was deeper and a little rougher than normal. "You were gonna burn yourself, Bones."

She blinked, managing to tear herself away from his eyes, heated and intense, as she wet her bottom lip quickly.

"Uh, thank you," she said, then immediately wished she could take the words back as they hung in the air, rushed and breathless and fluttering.

His eyes darted quickly down towards her lips before he met her gaze, pulling his hand back from her coffee cup and turning back towards the reflecting pool, clearing his throat again. The noise broke through the tension that hung between them like cobwebs swiped through with a lazy hand.

"So-uh, listen, this serial killer case? Not gonna be like the ones we usually work."

She blinked one more time, steering her mind back to murderers and vault contents, rather than the scent of her partner's skin.

His hand is slightly dry, suggesting the soap lacks glycerin, so he must use some sort of commercial soap. Hints of vanilla and sweetness, mixes well with what is likely cologne, would explain the pine, and-

"What?"

"The case, Bones," he said, fondly exasperated. "It's going to take a lot longer than these things normally would."

"Why?" She demanded. "It's just a case."

"Why? Because it's big and he's bad. You gotta slow down Bones, take a breath. Think marathon, not a sprint. Marathon, coming from the Greek meaning 'really really really long run'."

"That's not how the word 'marathon' originated."

Temperance watched as he exhaled, the corner of his mouth turning up into a hint of a smile, the gesture tugging delicately at her chest as an answering smile curved her lips. She turned back to the pool, ducking her head a bit even as something fluttered softly in her stomach, causing her hands to tighten on her coffee, and her ears to heat with the faintest hint of a blush. Sitting quietly together on the bench, she tried to take in the peaceful morning, pleased to be so comfortable and at ease with her partner.

So when he asked about the state of their partnership, she was shocked. Of course she had forgiven him for arresting her father, it was only logical of course. Booth was an FBI agent, and her father was a career criminal, there was no grudge to be held there. As for the rest of their arguments- well, she didn't care to think too much on that. Human men and their need to 'prove their worth' on some battlefield, ridiculous! But Zach was back now, safely tucked into the Jeffersonian once more, so truly there was nothing more to be upset about.

He was right though.

They were the center, and it all started and ended with them. If they lost each other, there was no question as to who the rest of her team would go with. They were hers after all. No matter how much they liked Booth, they were all loyal to a fault. But he was also hers , just as much as the lab, and no part of her wanted to let him go.

"We'll hold," she said. "We're the center."

He smiled at that, eyes crinkling, all gentle and sweet and fond. "The center," he agreed softly.

And so she offered her hand, and clasped his own in her grasp, shaking on it. It was done. They were the center, and they would hold.

Booth chuckled as he pulled his hand away, resting his arm on the back of the bench, looking amused.

"What's funny?"

Still laughing, he shot a mischievous look her way. "Mm, I thought you were going to kiss my hand again."

Indignation shot through her. "I did not kiss your hand. You put it over the coffee cup."

He hummed, leaning back against the bench lazily, his mouth turning up into a smirk. "Felt like you kissed it."

"No."

"No?"

"No!" Filled with denial and self-righteous anger, she didn't care to think too hard about why she was denying it so vehemently. All he needed to know was that she didn't kiss his hand.

"If I had kissed your hand, it would've felt like this!"

What.

The words that had burst out of her in an impassioned rush lingered in the air, and oh- she did not mean to say that, but she had, and there was no way she was backing down now. In one swift move, she set down her coffee on the bench beside her, leaned across her partner to pluck his cup out of his left hand, and set it down next to her own as she snatched his left wrist, tugging it towards her as she settled back into her seat.

Turning his hand over, she circled one hand around his wrist, fingertips resting gently against his pulse point, as she smoothed out his fingers with her other hand, exposing his palm. She studied his much larger hand for just a second before she brought his hand to her lips, ducking her head to meet it.

She placed a soft kiss in the center of his palm, and oh- he was so warm, and smelled so good, and he was practically cradling her face and it felt so nice that she just lingered a moment. But when she had tugged his wrist to her, she had forced him closer, turned him completely towards her, his knees pressing against her own, so she could feel the hitch in his breath and beneath her fingers his pulse was thundering, an answering beat to the heavy pound of her own heart. The blood was rushing past her ears, blocking out anything that wasn't the racket of their hearts beating, and finally-reluctantly, she pulled away from his hand and his warmth and looked up from beneath her eyelashes, a blush burning across her cheeks, his hand still curled in her own.

Oh.

Her partner looked wrecked.

A deep flush had spread neatly across the bridge of his cheekbones and settled firmly in the tip of his ears, flaming bright red, and his eyes were wide and a little lost as his pulse fluttered rapidly against his throat. Mouth hanging open slightly, he pressed his lips together and swallowed unsteadily, taking a ragged breath.

"Temperance," he said roughly.

And her stomach swooped down somewhere beneath her feet at the sound of his voice taking the unused syllables of her name and rounding them sweetly, forming them into something soft and cherished and precious.

Swallowing heavily, she let out a little trembling breath, releasing his hand with one final tender sweep of her thumb across the inside of his wrist. She looked back up and her breath caught in her throat, the clamor of her heart skipping a beat as his eyes ensnared her, dark and reverent. His hand came back up, softly trailing down her cheek with the back of his knuckles as she gasped out his name.

"Booth!"

A smile lit the corners of his eyes, and played around his mouth. "Temperance," he said again.

She shuddered at the rumble of his voice, the care he bestowed on each syllable of her name, captured by the look in his eyes, as if she were something lovely, something to be treasured, cared for, and never ever forgotten. His knuckles were at the bottom of her chin now, gentle pressure caused her to lift her chin towards him as he slid his hand underneath her jaw, till his thumb was resting just below her lips and his fingers were pressed against her neck, covering her carotid artery and jugular vein.

He was just so warm, and smelled so good, and was right there, looking at her like she was his world. He had killed with his hands, had protected her with the same hand that was now cradling her face. Swallowing thickly, she was all too aware of the fact that he could feel her pulse hammering rapid-fire under his fingers as her heart was putting up a fairly good attempt to batter its way out from her ribcage.

Her lips seemed to part of their own accord as her stomach fluttered, enthralled by the man in front of her.

"Seeley," she whispered, her breath escaping her in a rush, begging for something that she didn't know how to ask for.

At the rare sound of his name from her mouth, his grip tightened involuntarily on her jaw as she leaned her face into his fingers, one hand coming up to cup his wrist and hold him in place. Eyes darkening, he leaned closer, till she could feel his warm breath fanning over her cheekbones. His thumb came up and brushed across the middle of her lower lip as he trailed it across her mouth, to the corner of her lips, sending a trail of sparks in its wake as her breathing stuttered then turned heavy and ragged. But still, he hung back, hovering just outside of her reach.

Swaying forward, she was caught in an inexorable process, something she didn't think she could stop if she wanted to.

But she didn't want to.

Her free hand came up to cup the back of his neck, pulling him into a kiss.

Oh. It was-

It was perfect.

Statistically impossible, but it was . The way he caught her gasp in his mouth and smiled sweetly pressed against her lips, how his hand tangled in her hair and sent shivershocks down her spine while the other traced distracting patterns against her inner wrist, the way his scent wreathed around her, making her stomach swoop giddily, how his nose bumped gently against her own as his lips moved softly over hers, sending a dizzying collection of sparks to her brain.

It was all perfect.

So when he stopped, pulling away, she couldn't quite be held responsible for her actions.

He backed away, hand lingering by her jaw and she whined slightly at the loss, eyes fluttering open, following him as he drew back like a loadstone to metal.

Booth had stilled at her whine, hands flexing around her wrist and jaw ever so slightly, before his eyes flashed and he crashed his lips back against hers.

Sighing into the kiss, she melted into him, pressing herself firmly against his knees as she gripped his neck. Warmth bubbled through her as he nipped her bottom lip and she whimpered a little desperately, causing her partner to groan and dig his fingers into her scalp. His tongue traced the seam of her mouth and she opened up to him, their tongues sliding slick-hot against each other, electricity crackling through her body at the taste of him. It was all at once not enough and too much, the feel of his soft, short hair threaded through her fingers, the heat of his hand on her face, the nearness of his body, sending her skin prickling with awareness.

Just as her lungs began to burn, he gentled the kiss, lingering one moment longer, pressing their closed lips together almost chastely, sweetly, before he extricated himself from her and drew back.

Her eyes opened, bereft at the loss of his presence, but something in his eyes stopped her from pulling him back to her.

"Bones," he said quietly, regretfully. "We can't."

The pain of rejection shot through her, clearing up her muddled brain, and she sucked in a breath, pulling back her hand where it lay on his neck, as if his skin stung her.

"What?" She asked breathlessly, hurt at his words.

"Don't play with fire if you're afraid to get burned."

Leaning back away from him, she avoided his eyes, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. "I don't know what that means."

Sighing, he scrubbed a weary hand over his face. "I'll make you a deal, Bones," her partner said. "If you can tell me what this means-"

At that, his fingers wrapped around her right wrist, and waiting until her eyes were on him, he lifted it up to his mouth, maintaining eye contact, and brushed the softest kiss to the tender skin on the inside of her wrist. It was barely the whisper of his lips against her skin, but sparks ran up her arm at the contact and she couldn't suppress a shiver.

"If you can tell me what that means, I'll tell you why we can't do this."

Baffled, she could only nod mutely.

Smiling ruefully, Booth released her wrist and ran a hand through his hair, the intense look in his eyes dissipating as he leaned back into his seat, putting distance between the two of them.

"I'm exhausted. Bones, you wanna hand me that coffee?"

Startled, she stopped trying to analyze his words and his actions and turned to her side, collecting the forgotten cups and handing one to him.

Studying him for a second, she fixed her eyes on his face and asked the question that had been bothering her. "We're still going to hold, right?"

Raising the coffee to his lips, he smiled gently, the kind that was only reserved for her. "Course we are Bones, we're the center. You can't get rid of me that easily."