Disclaimer: Sadly, don't own Bones.

In a blatant attempt to make up for the lack of alacrity in updating Breaking and SS, I give you a long, smutty conclusion to this story. Set anytime in the future you want it to be! Hope u like :)

The Evidence To All I Need


"Oh, god … Mmm … Bones, oh yeah …" His head fell back against the couch, fully exposing his throat to her hungry lips. She pressed warm, moist kisses against him and it was the spectacularly husky moan he couldn't control that brought him back to his senses.

"Wait, Bones, wait a sec," he gasped, realizing she had slipped off his jacket and was working on his tie.

"Wait?" Brennan looked at him in near horror. "Are you … are you changing your mind?"

"What?" He was deliciously disoriented and it took him a second. "No! God, no. Are you?"

"No!" She leaned in to nip at his bottom lip. "Of course not."

"Okay, that's good," he breathed, closing his eyes as she brought one hand down to rub against the front of his pants. Oh yeah, so fucking good.

His mind was trying to tell him to focus, but his body was cheerfully disobeying. They had spent the last week playing fast and loose with each other's personal space and it had taken its toll. It'd all started with one innocent kiss after dinner one night, but it had quickly escalated to brushing bodies, groping hands, and heated kisses: against his front door, against hers; in his office and hers; in the FBI elevators and in the goddamn bone room. And now … now, she was devouring him on his couch before he'd even had a chance to blink.

He had left the office late, after a particularly trying interrogation with a suspect who had continually vacillated between cooperation and hostility. But even though it was way past dinner time, he still had to drag her out of the lab. Booth had promised her dinner and a movie at his place, but the second they walked in she'd made it clear dinner was going to have to wait.

And he was trying to remember something, but she was making it so damn hard. When she started working the knot of his tie again, it finally clicked. Grabbing her hips, he raised her off his lap and quickly jumped up from the couch.

"Not so fast, Bones," he panted, grabbing his jacket and putting it back on.

"Booth," she complained, eyes going wide in alarm as he straightened his tie. "Why are you putting clothes back on?"

With a wolfish grin and a distinctly predatory gleam in his eyes Booth plucked his partner off the sofa and carried her down the hallway to his bedroom.

"First of all, we need a bed," he explained, kissing her pouty lips as he slammed the bedroom door shut. "And second of all, we are going to try this again."

"Try what again?" she asked in confusion as he set her back on her feet next to the bed.

"Collecting evidence," Booth said wickedly. He realized the second she got it because her eyes raked him up and down and her lips parted on a breathy little sound.

"Undress me," he breathed, placing his hands at her waist and skimming his lips down the side of her neck. "And this time, Dr. Brennan, the only evidence you'll be collecting is evidence on just how much I want you."

"And how much is that, Agent Booth?" she inquired as casually as possible, walking behind him and taking his jacket off. Brennan's skin broke out in goosebumps as she remembered doing this in her lab, how intimate it had felt to slide his jacket off, knowing she was going to be removing everything. It had made her heated before, it damn well made her burn now.

"I guess we'll find out, won't we?" He watched her go drop his jacket over a chair before moving back to him. Booth inhaled sharply as her hands moved to his tie.

"This is strangely …" Brennan tilted her head in consideration. "…erotic," she finally decided, working the knot loose as slowly as possible.

"You have no freaking clue," he said huskily, actually growing harder as she wrapped the loose ends of the tie around her hands and pulled him close enough to feel her warm breath on his lips.

"Tell me."

"I … It drives me crazy," he confessed, letting his lips graze softly against hers. "After … after I woke up, you know, from the coma … ever since, just thinking of you doing this … oh, hell, it really turns me on, Bones."

"Really?" she asked breathlessly, utterly fascinated with the information. "Why is that?"

Booth held his breath for a second as she slid the tie off, dropping it to the floor before flicking the first shirt button open.

"Because …" He gasped at the feel of her lips exploring the skin she was carefully revealing. "Because, you did it in my dream and I loved it." His fingers tangled loosely in her hair as she spread the shirt fully open and scattered butterfly kisses all over him. "It was intimate and … and hot and it drove me crazy then and it drives me crazy now."

"That's fascinating, Booth," she whispered, sliding the shirt completely off his shoulders and running her hands greedily across his smooth, velvet-over-steel skin. "I'm sure Sweets would have some interesting theories about it."

"Really, Bones?" he asked wryly. "You are bringing up Sweets while you're taking off my clothes?"

Brennan chuckled and stepped close, pressing herself against him and running nipping kisses across one perfect shoulder. "Oh, is that what Angela would term a … mood killer?"

"Yeah, Bones," he answered, using the pads of his fingers to softly massage her scalp. "Lucky for you, it would take a freaking national disaster to kill the mood right now."

"Mmm … god, you really do have perfect muscle definition," Brennan praised, kissing and touching him in near awe. "Perfect muscle definition, perfect skin tone, perfectly strokable skin," she gasped, skating her tongue out to taste. "Just so damn perfect, Booth."

"I … ah … glad to know that when you talk about my perfectly symmetrical whatever, it's not just in scientific detachment," he murmured, head nearly spinning at the reverent way she was nipping and petting his shoulders, his chest, his stomach.

"No, I am most certainly not detached," she replied earnestly, scraping her nails lightly across his abdominals. "I wanted to stroke you all over that day." Hands on his shoulder, Brennan exerted pressure until he turned around and she hugged him from behind, pressing her cheek against his back.

"I didn't think your skin could possibly feel as firm and smooth as it looked," she told him, using her fingertips to caress softly up and down his back. "But it does. God, it really does."

Booth shuddered and turned around quickly, banding his arms around her and burying his face in the sweet-smelling spot between neck and shoulder. He sucked on the delicate skin and hooked his finger on the edge of her soft sweater, raising it up and off in one deft movement. It hit the floor along with his shirt and tie and he smoothed down her hair and exhaled shakily at the view of her lace-covered chest.

"You are perfectly symmetrical too," he breathed hoarsely, captivated by her luminous, pale skin.

"Actually, I'm not," Brennan denied, her voice taking on that scientific tone he recognized so well. "There's a distinct …"

"Oh, Bones," he interrupted on a chuckle, cupping the weight of her breasts in both hands and rubbing his thumbs in a circle over the lace. "Believe me, you really, really are."

She slapped his hands away playfully and informed him, "I'm not done," as she slipped off her sandals and her knees hit the floor, fingers going to work on his Cocky belt buckle.

"Ohh," he hissed, looking up at the ceiling in self-preservation.

"Are you going to start naming deities again?" Brennan asked curiously, smiling in satisfaction at the flawless manner in which the belt slid from the loops, just like she remembered.

"Saints, Bones, Catholic saints," Booth corrected, hazarding a glance down and groaning at the view of her in a skimpy little bra on her knees in front of him.

"Last time, when you started listing them …" Her fingers popped open his pants and slowly trailed the zipper down. "That was because of me, right?"

"Wh-What? Of course, it was because of you, Bones!" he replied in a strained voice. "Who else was in that room with me, taking off my damn pants?"

"All right, all right," she soothed, smiling at his testy tone. "Just checking." With delicious concentration, Brennan lowered his pants and he stepped out of them as well as his shoes. She hooked her fingers on his colorful socks and he raised one foot and then the other to allow her to slip them off.

Booth tensed as she curled her fingers over the elastic of his boxers, but she didn't remove them, seemingly content to just stare at the obvious bulge tenting the fabric.

"Bones?" he choked out in an embarrassingly hoarse voice.

Instead of answering, she pressed her lips right over the edge of his boxers, her teeth catching on the elastic band and pulling on it slightly before releasing it with a tiny snap. Agonizingly slow, she pulled the boxers down a bit, exposing the line of his hipbone and Booth whimpered when he felt her tongue trace the defined indentation.

"You are killing me," Booth groaned, his tortured voice turning to a gasp when she swiftly dragged his underwear down and he landed in her mouth.

"Holy shit!" he half-shouted, half-moaned, planting his feet firmly and involuntarily bucking once into her mouth. "Bones, some warning might have been a good idea … oh fuck, oh, damn, baby … God!"

She sucked him hard with those perfect lips and he wondered if it was actually possible to pass out from a blow job. Jesus, that would be embarrassing.

"Stop," he panted, even as his hips insisted on disobeying. "Stop, stop, stop." Curling his fingers in her hair, he stopped her movements; her tongue swirled around him and he gripped tighter. "Come here."

Brennan gave one final swirl and released him and he gripped her shoulders, hauling her up and crushing his lips against hers. He was practically inhaling her and she moaned into his mouth in appreciation of his excitement.

"My turn," Booth decided, gasping in some air and multitasking deliciously by flicking the clasp of her bra and flinging off the offending piece of lace. "Too many damn clothes on," he panted, working the buttons of her navy blue slacks and lowering them past her ass. Spanning her waist he picked her up and sat her on the bed, peeling the slacks off her and discarding them quickly.

Brennan slid back until she was in the center of the bed and his eyes flashed as he drank her in, flushed and breathing heavy in his bed, wearing nothing but a white pair of panties. His nostrils flared as he hovered over her on the bed, hands braced on either side of her body.

"You are way too beautiful," he decided, skimming his lips across the top of her breasts. She arched into him and he opened his mouth on one straining peak; his name dropping from her lips on a breathy moan.

"Too beautiful," he repeated, releasing her breast and moving down her body with wet, open-mouthed kisses. "And too smart, too stubborn and argumentative and passionate and too fucking perfect."

"I never stood a damn chance," Booth concluded, drawing her little white panties all the way down and diving in between her legs. She tunneled her fingers in his hair to anchor herself as he licked her up and down.

"Oh baby, you taste good," he husked softly, feeling almost intoxicated. "I knew you would, I knew I was going to be addicted to you before I even touched you."

"Booth," she moaned his name, head thrashing side to side on the pillow as he opened her up with two fingers and flicked her clit with his tongue.

"Come for me," he invited seductively, gliding the flat of his tongue along the soaked folds of her sex.

"No." Brennan tugged on his hair and bit her bottom lip trying to hold herself back. "I want to come with you …" Her fingers pulled more forcefully as she pleaded, "Please, I need you inside me."

He was tempted to keep his tongue between her legs and make her come on his mouth. But he could tell she was going to fight it, that she wouldn't just let go, and more than anything he wanted her to let go absolutely.

Kissing his way back up her body, he settled between her thighs, groaning as the hardest part of him pressed against the softest part of her.

"Hey," Booth whispered, brushing her lips lightly, one hand softly caressing her cheek. "Do we need protection?"

"No," Brennan said simply and that was enough for him.

"You know this changes everything," he warned her, hands skimming gently over the slope of her breasts and her stomach, until reaching her waist. Without taking his eyes off her, Booth cupped her rounded hips and raised her slightly, poised to obliterate over five years of self-restraint.

"I know," she agreed, winding her arms around him and keeping her eyes locked on his. "I've always known that."

Lowering his head he claimed her lips and with one deep thrust he claimed her. He kissed her without restraint as he slammed himself into her over and over again. Releasing her hips, he braced his hands on the bed, body driving relentlessly into her pliant flesh. Her legs locked around him, her fingers dug into his back, and her mind simply shut down as he surged into her, all raw power and unleashed passion.

"Booth!" she gasped, breaking their kiss and throwing her head back in reaction to the pressure building inside her.

He rained hot, wet kisses over her exposed throat, feeling increasingly crazed with each pounding slide into her body.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes," she chanted the word religiously in a husky, breathless tone that coiled around him and lit every nerve ending on fire. "Booth, it's … it's … I can't … oh god, Booth … I don't … I need …"

"I know," he groaned, feeling like he was buried so deep inside her, there'd be no finding his way out. "Jesus, Bones … let go, baby, let go."

Her eyes went blind and she contracted around him, the feeling so exquisitely tight he shouted her name, pumping hard as she shattered. One of her hands moved to twine in his hair and she pulled his lips to her, husky moans spilling into her mouth as he emptied himself inside her in one soul-sucking orgasm.

His hands had fisted the sheets viciously on either side of her body and he didn't even realize it until he collapsed on top of her and his hands slowly relaxed their vicious grip.

Oh, I was so damn right.

"About what?" Her still husky voice startled him, making Booth realize he'd whispered the words against her instead of merely thinking them.

On a slight groan he rolled them over so that she was now sprawled on top of him, her hair a curtain around him as she raised her head to look at him.

"About us," Booth answered, gently tucking back her silky hair and holding her face between his hands. "About this, about burning up together … about the reality being even better than the goddamn dream."

"Oh." She felt strangely breathless at his words, the passion she could so easily hear behind them making her feel something Brennan could only classify as elation.

"You know, there are two things from that dream that I think about all the time," he confessed, thumb brushing over her kiss swollen bottom lip. "The tie thing is one of them."

"What's the other one?" Booth smiled at the automatic question.

Sliding his fingers from her cheek to curl around her nape and gently bringing her head down, he whispered against her lips, "Bren."

Her eyes widened at the word. "The name?" she inquired in surprise, fingertips feathering absentmindedly across his collarbone.

"Yeah," he answered with a lopsided grin. "I kinda like it."

"Does that mean you don't want to call me Bones anymore?" Brennan asked hesitantly, not quite certain what to make of this.

"Oh, hell no," he laughed, the carefree sound making her automatically smile in response. "I'll always call you Bones." Smile disappearing, Booth said seriously, "I know you didn't like it at first and I wanted to annoy you, but … it's ours now, right?" He licked dry lips, feeling suddenly nervous. "I mean, you know I … you don't want me to stop, do you?"

"No," she said softly, soothing his uncertainty with a lingering kiss. "I like it, Booth. It is ours and I like that even more." She nestled her face against the curve of his neck, smiling as she felt the tension draining out of him. "But, you know, Bren is okay too, if you want. I don't have any objections to it."

"No?" He tunneled one hand into her hair, the other gliding leisurely up and down her back. "Then I want." Booth sighed in satisfaction at the feel of the tiny kisses she was pressing on his skin. "I so want," he whispered. "I want it all."

"All?" she questioned in a soft, soft voice, raising her head from his neck. "I … are you sure?"

"I have all the evidence I need, Bones," he answered, eyes dead serious as they met hers. "But if you need to collect more, that's okay, I'll wait; I really don't care how long, I'll …"

"No," she interrupted in a rush, before taking a deep breath. "I've collected all my evidence as well," she stated in that calm, rational tone that had gone from annoying the shit out of him to freaking turning him on. Booth couldn't quite pinpoint when that particular change had occurred, but it had been years and years ago. The first time he had consciously realized it, that's when he'd known he was in trouble.

"And?"

"And," she informed him in that careful, meticulous tone he had come to adore. "All is quite acceptable."


p.s. I'm aware the incentive to review the last chapter of a story is quite diminished, but I hope that if you have enjoyed this, you let me know what you think of this little conclusion. That's code for: come on, my little lurkers, come out and play! :)