A/N - Ever wonder what happened between the end of the last case and the scene at the airport? After Huluing the finale several times and reading some speculation this is where my mind went - straight to the gutter.

6/9/11 - After nearly a 6 month hiatus due to a hectic work schedule, I'm ready to come back to this story. Gearing up to finish it, I'm going to go through and make minor edits to each chapter. It is not my intent to be one of those writers who alters the integrity of the story you know or makes major changes. For those who are curious, it should end up 25 Chapters in length.

If you are finding this story for the first time, welcome to my version of Season 6. If you have loved it as much as I have, welcome back. To each of you - thank you for your support. Without you, I wouldn't be here.

Disclaimer: I don't own Bones. Anything you recognize belongs to Fox.

Chapter One: The Promise in the Good-Bye

It's been said there is a moment when the spark between two people will either ignite, burning hot and bright, or fade, growing cold and distant. People who believe that are wrong. They know nothing about the binding threads that tie two people together or how fate pulls them back to one another time and again. Amateur scientists, and even some professionals, know nothing about the power of love.

In the darkest moments before the dawn a woman slips into an apartment. Snapping the lock back into place, she leaves her purse on the table by the door and tiptoes down the hallway to the bedroom not wanting to wake him. What kind of life is she living? Is it the same life she was living an hour ago? A day ago? A year ago?

He lays on his side in the queen-sized bed. Bare chested, only his lower body covered by the dark cotton of the bed sheet. For a moment, she admires the way the lamp light from the parking lot slips over his skin in a lover's caress. Who is this man? Do they live separate lives or is it a single life shared?

She toes out of her shoes and hurriedly strips off her jeans and light sweater. Wearing only a thin camisole and white cotton panties, she climbs beneath the sheet beside him. She inches as close as she dares not wanting to wake the sniper from his slumber, surprised she has not alerted his knife-sharp senses.

"Bones?" His voice is husky with sleep and he reaches for her, sure she's a dream. A figment of his love-starved imagination. Many nights she's come to him; stealing into his bed. But unlike his usual dreams, his hand comes in contact with supple flesh. He can feel her breathing.

The last time they shared a moment, he had been the gambler. She made a mistake that night. Now, it's her turn to take the risk. Going all in was irrational. Then again, it was rational thinking that had him checking into the base in 4 hours and her scheduled on a flight to the Maluku Islands in approximately 34.

Her hand floats over his face, light stubble scratching her palm. "Do you love me?" she asks, voice unsteady, fingers slipping into his hair.

His eyes are still half closed. "You want me to prove it to you?" he asks, leaning slightly over her, his large hand coming to cup her cheek.

She turns her lips to brush over the tattoo on his inner wrist and strokes her fingertips up the back of his neck. He shudders. "If you're not too sleepy," she says softly.

His lips brush lightly over hers. "Baby," he mumbles. "Mmmm." His touch is effortless; the tips of his fingers hover over her skin mapping the curves of her body in the darkness. His hands glide underneath the soft cotton of her top and brush from her slim waistline up to the underside of her breasts. Unable to resist, his thumbs graze wickedly over their taut peaks.

Her hands move over him, nails scraping down his back and below the sheet to find him completely naked to her touch. She drags him close, pulling him down on top of her. Her tongue darts out to trace over his lips before moving to examine the hollows and recesses of his mouth.

He pulls back but not away. "Baby," he mutters in between kisses. "Baby, are you sure about this?" His eyes are completely open now and he cradles her beneath him. He wants this, her, more than he's ever wanted anything in his entire life. He's torn. Unsure if his heart can handle risking she might feel differently in the light of day.

Her heart is hammering wildly in her chest. Just because she doesn't have the capability to voice how she feels doesn't mean she feels nothing. Pushing him onto his back gently but undeniably, she straddles him and reaches over to the nightstand to turn on the lamp.

It takes a minute for his eyes to adjust to even the soft wattage of the bulb, but when he does he's transfixed by her face. Her always-collected facade lowered, her elegant features bathed in pure emotion. Hope. Desire. Longing. And dare he even consider it? Love. There's no trepidation; no hesitancy.

Slowly and without taking her eyes off his, she reaches down to the hemline of her shirt and pulls it over her head. His breath catches at the sight of her alabaster skin. He sits up pressing bare chest to bare chest and embraces her. His hands tangle in her hair and he uses the leverage to pull her mouth back to his.

This isn't exactly how he'd imagined this would happen. A romantic, he'd always figured there'd at least be candlelight. He knows he's got to bring his A-game and create a memory to sustain them for the next year. Something that will have them picking up here when they get back. This is it; both the end and the beginning.

His lips move over her throat. They should be talking about this. He knows that. Hell, he figures she probably knows it, too. "Baby," he places a sucking kiss at the juncture where the graceful column of her neck slips into the milky smoothness of her shoulder. "Temperance," he continues to mark her, drawing a whimper. "This is for keeps," his assault continues. "I'll give you tonight, but a year from now you have to make a choice."

She squirms in his lap wantonly. "Booth..." Her arousal is quickly ripening and climbing ever higher. She tugs at his earlobe with her teeth. "Please..."

He'd never have pegged Temperance Brennan for a beggar. Still, he's not swayed from his mission. "The coffee cart a year from today," his heart nearly breaks all over again as he prepares himself to give her the out. "If you meet me there, I'll know you want me and that this is going somewhere." He doesn't look at her; he knows he'll break if he does. "If not.."

She crushes her mouth over his, stopping him from completing the utterance. "Stop talking," she commands. Her hands move down to stroke him and a small smirk touches her face at his size and reaction to her petting.

Not about to concede control, he forces her into the pillows with a blistering kiss. With one arm he props himself up, allowing his free hand to dance gentle circles over her chest and down her abdomen. His hand skims lower touching the only clothing left between them. He teases her, stroking the damp fabric and making them both twitch - her body needing more, his at the evidence of her desire.

He clings to her, his mouth leaving a scorching trail of kisses down her body. He nuzzles against her and finds the rough stubble of his jawline seems to further excite her. She wiggles trying to direct his ministrations and he is unable to hold back his need for her any longer. Ripping her panties away, he kisses her intimately causing her hips to come off of the bed.

"Booth!" she cries out. The sensation of his breath and tongue push her that much closer to the edge. "Oh, God..."

He smiles. Nothing like making a professed atheist call out for the deity she doesn't believe in. He varies pressure and movements. Watching her, he waits for the little tells, the signs that her body is, for now at least, all his. He takes his time. There's no need to rush it.

And there. Right there. His fingers and his mouth continue to pay their homage. She splinters, shattering beneath his touch and crying out his name as the full force of her orgasm hits her.

She's limp. Never before has she felt so thoroughly satisfied by the act of oral stimulation. She claws at him, dragging him up until his lips plunder hers. She can taste her own arousal in the kiss. She wraps a leg around his waist, silently offering herself to him.

The great Temperance Brennan, speechless. He could get used to that. He immediately attempts to brush the thought aside as he thrusts into her. Burned by her heat, he knows he's done for. There is no turning back after tonight, not for him. As he looks into her eyes, feels her shudder, he allows hope to kindle within him. If nothing else, this is going to be a night they will never forget.

After a shower, he puts on his fatigues. For the next year this will be his suit and he'll be carrying a very different gun. He leans down and brushes a gentle kiss over her forehead, hoping this isn't the last and only time he'll wake up beside her.

She smiles up at him through heavy lidded eyes. "Hey," she mutters.

"Baby, I've gotta go. I'm due on base in 45 minutes," he sees pain in her eyes. "I don't know if I'll be able to get to see you off at the airport tomorrow..."

She sits up, clutching the sheet under her arms. "About that," she kisses him. It's deep and slow. It's as if she's memorizing the feel of his lips on hers, the way their tongues meld together, everything. "I don't want you to kiss me if you come. If you do, I'll never be able to get on my flight."

He nods. Leaning in, he gives her a gentle kiss and slips a thin chain around her neck.

"What's...? Booth, it's your St. Christopher medal. I can't..."

He feels his faith slipping. "Please, Bones? Just take it, that way I'll be with you even when we're apart."

She searches his eyes and nods knowing this will bring him comfort. "I accept your logic."

"I've really gotta go." It's his turn to build walls. He's halfway to the front door when he feels her hand on his arm.

It's her turn to rescue him, to save him from his doubts. She holds the sheet around her with one hand and uses the other to pull his mouth down to hers. She looks into his eyes, "The coffee cart a year from today."