A/N: Better late than never...based on the 2023 summer challenge...B & B spend a summer dating and settling some issues before the new baby comes.

I apologize for the very, very long delay. But I hate leaving things unfinished. Thank you for allowing me to jump back into this world.

International Joke Day

There were days, after leaving Bones in the morning, and getting caught in the various problems of his day, that he thought the last six months of his life were some sort of joke. Another coma dream that was playing out across his subconscious after he'd been shot at work or in Afghanistan.

There was no way this was his life. Things didn't go the way he wanted them to. It was both perfect and perfectly terrifying depending on what he was thinking about.

It was, after all, National Joke Day, he'd been informed as he was leaving her apartment. Unsure if it had been one of those factual things she'd like to share or a warning, he'd pressed a fleeting kiss to her lips and made a comment about how he wasn't easily tricked.

Smiling, she'd agreed that the two of them were too intelligent to fall for something as simple as jokes. Easy, quick, the kind of conversation many couples had during a shared morning.

But now, stuck in traffic, after a grueling day of budget meetings and endless reports, he wondered if maybe all of this was a joke. The innocent comment she'd made had been his subconscious trying to wake him up. Would he close his eyes tonight or next week and open them again to find none of this was real?

A joke that would more than likely destroy him. He couldn't have her like this only to lose her. Again. Mentally surviving that a second time was not possible.

He couldn't lose her. Not this time.

Distracted by the thoughts, he watched the rain drip down his windshield, patterns made and broken each time the wipers moved across the view.

Were they finally breaking their pattern? Forming a new one each morning that when added together would equal a long and happily lived life?

It was another rainy night, very similar to this one, when Bones made a confession that still haunted him.

He'd done the right thing, had been committed to Hannah at the time, but he often wondered if that night hadn't been the beginning of the end. A forced proposal, sure he was doing the right thing, knowing in the back of his mind it wasn't what Hannah wanted.

Had he been too afraid to end it himself, forcing her to do it for him? The idea bothered him, though looking back he was more willing to accept that might have been his goal. The joke was certainly on him that night. She did exactly what a small part of him knew she would.

Which opened a door that would lead him back to Bones. Back to this moment in the rain, headed to an apartment that shouldn't be empty when he arrived.

It was her date night and she was planning dinner for him. Simple. Easy. The kind of thing the two of them never seemed to get. Hopefully, this one wouldn't be interrupted by incompetent agents or dead bodies.

The light ahead of him finally changed. Slowly letting his foot off the brake, Booth watched three cars make it through before it changed from yellow back to red again. Sighing, he came to another stop. For as much as he loved this city, moments like this made him hate it too.

He could call her. Listen to her voice and dispel all these notions of jokes and dreams. But he was trying to do it differently this time. A life together meant trust and he didn't need to hang his insecurities on her. She said she'd meet him at his apartment that night, and she would. There was no reason for him to doubt that.

Except it was national joke day. She'd made a point to inform him of that before he left that morning. And the woman he loved didn't often understand jokes.

Would she not be there, thinking it was some sort of prank? Not knowing that a very tiny, innocent act would upset him deeply.

The light changed again and this time he made it through. Traffic, though still heavy, lessened enough that he made it back to his apartment without the loss of the little patience he had left.

It was still long enough for his mind to circle between the despair that none of this might be real and the knowledge that he was being more than slightly ridiculous.

They were both all in. None of what took place between them was a joke. Never had been.

And there, in the area she always parked, was that ridiculous car she drove. Just like she'd said it would be. Lifting his eyes, he could see lights on in his apartment.

A promise made and a promise kept.

When he keyed his way in, he was greeted with soft lighting, cooked food and the woman he loved. She met his eyes from across the room before crossing to him on bare feet and resting a palm against his cheek. "What is

it?"

There was rain in his hair and on his coat. In his eyes was a piece of the storm that raged outside.

There was no one else she could do that with; look into their eyes and know something about them. No one else she wanted to do it with.

He considered telling her about the budget meetings, the traffic or the weather. Simple easy things to relax into the evening. No need to share his sudden anxiety over nothing with her.

"Is any of this a joke to you?" was the question that came out instead.

"No," was her immediate answer. "None of this ever was or ever will be a joke to me." Her head tilted as she studied him. "What brought this on?"

He stepped away from the warmth of her hand to shrug off his damp coat. Shoes next, giving him a moment to figure out what was going on in his head.

"You mentioned it was international joke day this morning. My brain took care of the rest." He shook his head, trying to shake away the dark thoughts that had chased him all day. Turning, he knew the question she wanted to ask. "I trust this and trust us," he said, no doubt in his voice. "You mentioned jokes and I thought of dreams and memories and everything went a little crazy." He ran a hand through his hair, causing it to stand straight up.

"Crazy like your hair," she said. Coming to where he'd stopped, she brushed it down with gentle fingers. "This is not a coma dream." Taking his right hand, she placed the palm flat against her stomach. "This is real." Her hand pressed down on top of his. "I am here and you are here and none of this is a joke."

His eyes stayed on their hands before he lifted them to meet hers. The storm in them had quieted, leaving behind a contentment Brennan rarely saw. "We're having a baby," he said, as if the idea was finally sinking in.

"We are having a baby," she agreed. "A real baby. Not a fantasy brought on by a coma and a story."

He sighed, dropping his forehead to rest against hers. "I'm sorry. For my out of control brain."

Chuckling, she cupped her free hand behind his neck. "Your brain is fine. We've come close so many times, I feel that it is only natural that sometimes we wonder if we are dreaming."

"Always the logical one." He lifted his head to press a kiss to her forehead before stepping back. "Do you need help with dinner?"

"No, everything should be done." Moving into the kitchen she reached for plates and silverware to set the table. "I don't need help. But I want it." With her back to him, she didn't see his eyes widen slightly.

"Partners, Booth," she said, turning at the perfect moment to hand him the plates. He'd come up behind her on silent feet, yet she'd known exactly where he was.

As did he. No dreams or nightmares this time. Just real life, one he was lucky enough to be living. "Partners," he agreed.