When She Ran Away

By: Lesera128 & dharmamonkey

Rated: M

Disclaimer: We own nothing... Obviously. We're still just playing in someone else's sandbox for a bit. Ummm... yeah.~

Summary: Brennan returns from Maluku, meets Booth at the coffee cart, and refuses to hear about Hannah because she has a confession of her own to make. Brennan runs, Booth follows, and angsty physicality ensues. Set at the start of 6x01. AU.

A/N: Many, many thanks to all those who've stuck it out through one of the greatest angsty pieces ever and shared reviews. It's been great, and we very much appreciate it. So, now, without further adieu, here it is... no more delays. As promised, we hope you enjoy the pay off.

Normal disclaimers, exclusions, and provisos apply: as ever, if this type of fic isn't for you, that's fine with us. We understand. Happy fic hunting. Useless comments and flames are summarily ignored, but constructive criticism/feedback is cherished. As a final thought, this piece is angsty, uses adult language, and contains some very suggestive imagery. If that's not your thing, turn back now. You've been warned. As for everyone else, proceed at your own risk.~

Part V: When They Finally Found Each Other

If there was one thing that could quickly reduce Dr. Temperance Brennan to a quivering, unthinking, completely emotional, quaking mass of id, it was the warm and intense stare of Seeley J. Booth when his deep brown eyes were inflamed with lust.

Staring into them, Brennan knew she was losing a fighting battle. Her ability to logically explain why it wasn't a good idea to let Booth distract her with his lips and his body and his—

Oh, God, she thought. How can he be that hard already? Shit

"Booth, I have to—"

"Yeah, Bones?"

"I need to—"

"Trust me, Bones. I know exactly what you need," he whispered into her ear, causing Brennan to shake slightly.

"No, Booth—"

"No?" Booth laughed. "You sure about that, Bones?"

"No, I'm not," Brennan said.

"Then, what's the problem, Bones?" he chuckled. God, I love you, he thought, the words echoing in Booth's mind as he delighted in toying with her. "Huh, Bones?"

"I mean," she started to correct herself. "I mean, yes, Booth, I am sure that I need to—"

"Need, what, Bones?" he said as he dipped his head lower and began to gently suck on her pulse point.

Brennan momentarily indulged in the sensation, letting her eyes roll back into her head. "Oh, fuck, Booth—please, just stop that for just one minute."

"Why?" he whispered to her. "Why should I?"

"Because, I have to...I have to find out—"

"Find out what?"

With a mental roar, she shifted slightly so that she pulled her neck away from his lips. Booth sighed as Brennan turned, and having put some distance between them—distance that allowed her to reassert control of herself, when she was so close to giving in—looked at him with a pleading look in her eye.

"What's so special about me?" she finally managed to get out just as Booth had lifted a hand to her cup her breast. "I'm...I'm not, to use a colloquialism, your type."

"Bones," he said in a husky voice. "I don't understand how you think sometimes. I mean, are you kidding me?"

"No, Booth," she said, shaking her head slightly in confusion. "I'm actually quite logical," Brennan retorted. "My line of reasoning is simply going by the pattern your previous behavior has established, Booth. To my knowledge, almost all your serious relationships have been with women who have a skewed body mass index ratio, have long blonde hair, and well—not to put too fine a point on it...I think as it was once described to me, don't have 'my curves.' So, if you're attracted to me, you're deviating from the established normative criteria you've used in the past for selecting a partner."

Booth stared at her for a few seconds. He then laughed as he slid his hand down from her breast to the round swell of her hip. "Do you have any idea how crazy you make me?" he asked. She stared at him blankly. "How crazy you've been making me for years now?"

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"What do I mean?" he retorted, a wide smile breaking across his lips. "What do you mean what do I mean? Jesus, Bones...do you remember that case in Vegas? What was her name—Billie Morgan, right? And that federal prosecutor that got whacked by the mob? Mason Roberts, I think. That dress you wore to the casino, the red one you were wearing when I got back from Nolan's gym when Agent Tsang was there talking to that Latina girl Marisol? Do you remember it was the one with the plunging neckline—oh!" Booth had to shake away a shiver just thinking about it."And, the way you did your makeup, with that dark, smoky look around your eyes, and that hot red lipstick—do you have any idea how much self-control it took for me not to drag you off that casino floor and back up to our hotel room right then?" He grunted at the thought of whisking her away and having his way with her in that delicious red dress. "I mean, damn. Do you know what you were doing to me, especially after you pulled that move at Nolan's gym the day before when you plucked that cash from between your tits like a magician pulling a rabbit out of his hat?" Booth shook his head and shivered again. "Good God, woman."

"Really?" Brennan squeaked.

"Really?" Booth repeated, mimicking her. "Yeah, Bones—really. Oh, God—and that one Halloween you dressed up as Wonder Woman, with that absolutely fuck-me bustier that made those breasts of yours look even more awesome the way they just about spilled over." He paused, licking his lips as he savored the image. "Oh, and those amazing knee-high red boots?" He grunted and waggled his eyebrows. "Hell, Bones—do you know how many times I've stood there at a crime scene, watching you squat down, your ass looking all kinds of fantastic in that snug little blue jumpsuit of yours? And, do you know how many times I've sat around and fantasized about you in that cute blue lab coat of yours?"

"You've fantasized about me in my lab coat?" she asked incredulously.

"If you only knew," Booth grinned at her, remembering somewhat sheepishly what he had actually been doing so many of those times he had sat around dreaming about her in that blue lab coat.

"Fine," Brennan conceded. "Fine. So, there's several examples that demonstrate that you've long harbored a physical attraction to me. However, I still just don't understand how you can go from a blonde 'leg man' to a brunette 'breast man' just like that, Booth," Brennan snapped her fingers to emphasize her point.

Leg man? Breast man? Booth grinned and knew exactly where she had picked up that set of terminology. Oh, yeah: Angela.

"First off," Booth said. "You've got the best damn pair of legs I have ever seen."

"But, there not my best attribute," Brennan quickly countered. "Even you just said that."

"Even still," he said. "I noticed them the moment I walked into that class of yours at American. I opened that door and walked in, and saw this amazing woman at the front of the class, with great legs that just went on and on and on, in that skirt you were wearing—yellow floral print, wasn't it?" He grinned. He knew exactly what skirt she was wearing that day. That moment, that whole exchange, had been seared into his memory for six years. "So, yeah, I'm a leg man, but that doesn't mean I can't appreciate the finer attributes of a fuckably delicious body like yours, Bones."


"Meaning, you've best set of gams I've ever seen, Bones," he said as he pressed his chest up against hers. "Let's just say that maybe I was a leg man, but as soon as I saw you and saw these, these right here, Bones?" Booth rubbed his chest against hers, causing Brennan to groan a bit. "As soon as I saw these, I learned the error of my ways."

He then leaned into her again, pressing his leg between hers and nudging them apart.

"Gams?" she said, nearly gasping at his suggestive movement.

Booth chuckled. "Gams, you know?" Her arched eyebrow made it clear she didn't know. "Bones—haven't you ever watched one of those movies from the 1930s on TCM?" Brennan gave him a blank look. "Jeez, Bones—how can you make it through the silent movies of the 20s and skip all the good stuff from the 30s and 40s?" Brennan opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off with a kiss, not wanting to get sidetracked into another pop culture debate with her. "Okay, whatever. Never mind, Bones. The important point is that your legs are fantastic—all kinds of awesome. And, your tits—despite your claims to the contrary, do have magic powers, Bones. They have magic powers over me."

Brennan glanced down, shrugged and looked up again. "Meaning?"

Booth hedged a little. He was unused to having to give someone as confident as Brennan—who was usually to the point of overconfidence—the equivalent of a pep talk. The oddity of the situation was not lost on him, and he felt more than a bit of awkward discomfort at having to do it. You're killing me here, Bones. Absolutely killing me. However, because there was just about nothing he would deny her, Booth gave a small shake of his head and continued.

"Well," he began, then laughed as he anticipated his next confession. "Meaning, I've been appreciating your tits for a long time. A really long time, if I'm going to be completely honest, Bones. I've been staring down your shirts for years—since the very first case."

Brennan gave him a wary look, and Booth knew she still wasn't convinced.

Sighing, he said, "Okay. Fine. Ummm, you know that one Christmas we got locked up in the lab over the holiday weekend because of that lung fungus?"

She cocked her head and shot him a look that seemed to say with a frown: Of course, I remember that, Booth.

"Right. Of course, you remember that. You never forget anything," Booth said, more to himself than to Brennan.

For her part, she smiled at his words.

"So, anyway, you were sitting there on the platform in that light grey-blue tank top and were doing your squint thing when you were looking through that microscope—"

"And, then you popped up like some deranged elf," Brennan laughed. "You did that little dance of yours, and you were wearing that hat of Angela's—"

"Yeah, well, I was a little high on that crazy anti-fungal shot they gave us," Booth said. "And you gotta admit, I looked pretty cute in that hat."

"I remember," Brennan said, smiling her secret smile. "And, maybe, you did look...slightly cute."

"Uh huh," Booth grinned, pressing up against her again. "That's right."

"You know, that was the first time that you ever touched me like that," Brennan said, a wistful tone creeping into her voice.

"Well, I guess I was high enough that when I got this great idea in my head that I decided I could risk it to get close enough to snuggle right up next to you," Booth continued to narrate.

"I loved it when you did that," Brennan admitted. "You were so warm and so...wonderful."

"And, you weren't too shabby yourself, Bones," Booth grinned at her. "That's why I took a chance and and leaned over, real close, and looked right down into that tank top you were wearing to admire those great tits of yours." His toothy grin widened, as he recalled the image. "And, you know, if you'd have called me on it, I'd have just blamed the medicine, but truth is, I totally got off on that kind of close-up visual inspection of your wares because me having developed a keen appreciation for and loving of your breasts goes all the way back to the very beginning, Bones." He smirked. "All the way."

"But, that still doesn't answer the question, Booth," Brennan insisted, not letting go of the issue. "You still haven't given me a straight answer."

"Wait, what?" Booth's jaw tensed slightly. "What is it you want to know exactly, Bones?" he asked, hoping to stall for more time.

"I want to know how you can suddenly go from getting being attracted to all those blondes over the years to...well, be attracted to someone who isn't," Brennan told him.

Booth stared at her for a minute, and then, in one of his more inspired moments, he finally figured out a way to end the pep talk with a practical demonstration of his admiration of Brennan's killer body.

"Nuh-uh," he replied, leaning in close to her again, his nostrils flaring at the sweet smell of her sweat as he felt a raw tingle at the base of his spine and nudged her legs further apart.

"That's not an answer," she said, her voice fading to a husky whisper as she felt his lean, hard body press against hers, pushing her against against her built-in bookshelf. In any other circumstance, it might've been an uncomfortable position. In most circumstances, it would've been an uncomfortable position. However, as he leaned into her, Brennan felt her heart skip a beat as Booth continued to ratchet up the charm, and she could feel the heat radiating off of his body. Why does he always do that? the thought echoed sharply in Brennan's mind. Just when I have him exactly where I want him, he always does that. A heartbeat later, a softer and more feminine voice added, He does it because it always works, Brennan. And, he knows it. That's why he does it. "But, I—" Brennan weakly protested.

"Nuh-uh," he said again, lowering his face as he brushed his lips against her other earlobe.

Brennan squirmed slightly as she felt his lips tickle her flesh. She closed her eyes as her nose filled with the smell of him, a musky scent swirling with sweat and spice—and want.


"Nuh-uh," he groaned a third time. Brennan sighed as Booth kissed her softly, and he smiled. Yeah, I've just about got her

However, just to be on the safe side, he continued lathering on the charm. "No more thinking," he murmured, pressing his groin against her hip as he began kissing his way down the soft skin of her neck. "For someone who said that I'm the one with the big mouth, you're the one who seems to have the problem shutting up, Bones. So, no more talking." As if she had decided to comply with his words, Booth felt her hands move up the sides of his arms, her slender fingers tracing over his biceps, encouraging him in his actions. "Definitely, no more talking."

Brennan mewled as she tilted her head back, her hair falling away from her neck as his lips skimmed along her collarbone towards the notch at the base of her neck. When she felt his lips begin to suck a moist trail across the softness of her skin, the wave of pleasure that washed over her made her knees go weak. She fell against him lightly, forced to bolster herself by placing her hands on either of his shoulders.

"You okay there, Bones?" Booth laughed, when he glanced down at where she had put her hands.

Swallowing, a dazed look had settled over her as she slowly nodded. "Ummm...unless we're going to have sex with you pressing me up against my bookcase or the front door," Brennan suddenly managed to say in one quick verbal salvo. "I would suggest we find some horizontal surface that can aid in achieving a desirable sexual position, Booth."

Booth grunted as he briefly considered how absolutely hot it would be to take her against her front door or the foyer wall. He seriously doubted whether he could get enough leverage against the bookcase, but it might be worth a try anyway—

"So, does that mean what I think it means, Bones?" Booth laughed at her. "No more Q&A?"

"Yes," she moaned. "For now, at least. But, if we're going to have sex right now, you're going to have to help me regain my equilibrium, Booth, because, for some reason, I seem to be experiencing a degeneration in the muscular control of in the vicinity of my mobile trocho-ginglymus, and I'm not certain I can successfully demonstrate flexion or extension muscular movement at the moment."

Booth pulled back from her for a moment, an indulgent grin on his face as he chuckled, "What?"

"Knees—" Brennan groaned, wobbling a bit at the loss of Booth's support.

At this, Booth's chuckle deepened into a satisfied rumble as he told her, "Is that your way of telling me that I make you go weak in the knees, Bones?"

"Although I can't explain why, yes," Brennan said, with a look. "Now, do you have a preference—couch or bed?"

"Bed," Booth grunted, moving towards her with a hungry glint in his eye. "Definitely the bed." Pulling her to him again, Booth tugged at the hem of the back of her T-shirt. "I think this is the third time I've done this without actually getting it off you today, Bones."

Taking a breath, Brennan edged her torso away from where he held her. Booth's left leg thrust between each of hers as his hands rested lightly near the small of her back on the swell just above her ass. As she arched her back to give her enough room to move, Brennan hastily reached down and pulled the sweaty T-shirt over her head with both hands. Tossing it over Booth's shoulder, now clad in her sports bra, jogging pants, and sneakers, she still felt overdressed. And, more importantly, she felt that Booth was definitely wearing too much clothing.

Her hands migrating to the waistband of his sweats, Brennan tugged at the elastic slightly when a slightly evil thought crossed her mind. More used to him in jeans or suit pants or even ACU trousers, the novelty of Booth standing before her in a pair of sweats with an elastic waistband tickled her. The possibilities danced through her mind as she let her hands linger at the waistband, pulling it taut against his hips before allowing it to fall tight against his pelvis. The third time that she did it, she let it snap hard against his skin causing Booth to yelp in surprise.

"Ouch," Booth growled at her. "That was definitely not a nice thing to do, Bones."

She gave him a wicked grin, waggled her eyebrows, and then moved. Suddenly, and quite thankfully, Brennan seemed to have recovered sufficient mobility in her legs, because when she gave them the command to sprint forward and away from Booth, they complied, and the chase was on. She made it as far as the doorway of her bedroom before she felt Booth's arms snake around her waist.

"You should know by now," he said, his breath now coming in pants, "that, in the end, you can never outrun me." She laughed as he twirled her around and pulled her body against his. "Ever." Booth leaned in and kissed her, grasping at her mouth with his lips as he felt her tongue slide against his.

He cupped her ass with his hands and pressed her hip against his groin so she could feel how much he wanted her. "You make me so damn crazy, woman," he said as he walked her backwards through the doorway towards the bed.

"I thought we were going to have have a sexual encounter, Booth," Brennan teased him. "If so, I find you to be wearing far too much clothing for such an activity to take place in such a way as it might achieve the optimum amount of satisfaction for both of us," she whispered between his kisses as she toed off her sneakers. She reached down and yanked the hem at the bottom of his faded FBI T-shirt. With a wry smile, he raised his arms as she pulled it off and tossed it carelessly to the side.

"So are you," he growled playfully, hooking his fingers over the waistband of her stretchy black jogging pants. He leaned in and gently nipped at her earlobe with his teeth as he tugged on her pants, slowly inching them over her curvy hips. "Off," he moaned. "Now, right, now. Off they come, Bones."

"As long at they aren't the only thing that come, I'm okay with that, Booth. Ohhh, damn," she moaned as the tip of his tongue stroked the tender skin just below her ear. "Ohhh..." She pulled away from him, causing him to grunt in brief protest as she nudged his hands away and slid her pants off her hips.

Booth watched her with hungry eyes, shiny and black as volcanic glass, as she stepped out of her pants. As soon as she kicked them to the side and slid her anklet socks off her feet, he moved in again, running his hands up her back and over her bare shoulder blades. "God, I want you," he whispered, his hot breath tickling her jaw. "I can't imagine a time when I'll never not want you."

She responded with a deep groan as she reached up and pulled her sports bra off and over her head. No sooner had the sweat-damp gray Lycra hit the floor then Booth's eager hands flew up to cup her breasts.

"Bones," he said, giving each breast a gentle squeeze as he brushed his thumbs across her nipples. Brennan felt a rush of wet warmth pulse between her legs at his touch and wobbled a little as her knees nearly gave way again.

"Bed," she growled, surprised at the hint of roughness in her voice. "Now, now would be a really good time to go to the bed."

With a silent nod, Booth dropped his hands to her hips and walked her backwards before pushing her gently onto the bed. Brennan crawled back towards the headboard with a smirk, as if daring Booth to chase her. She grinned as he accepted the silent dare, climbing onto the bed and stalking towards her on all fours. He reached for her, stroking his hand up the side of her leg before sliding his fingers under the hem of her soaked panties.

"Wait," she said, rolling to the side and away from his touch. A playful edge came into her voice. "Don't you want breakfast? I promised you earlier, breakfast, remember? I said I'd make you that big breakfast—eggs, English muffins, bacon even—" she asked with a sly smile.

"No way," he replied huskily. "Right now, screw breakfast. I want my dessert first. Breakfast can wait. Now, get over here." He curled his hand around her hip and pulled her back toward him. A deep, throaty laugh escaped from her lips as Booth tugged at her panties, yanking them off her hips and sliding them down her slender, creamy thighs. "Oh, yeah," he groaned as he tossed the damp fabric to the floor and nestled himself between her thighs. He stroked his hand up the inside of her thigh and felt her tremble slightly in response to his touch.

"No fair," she yelped as he bent his head down and began placing wet, sucking kisses along her collarbone. "Booth, stop that."

"Make me," he growled.

"You know I hate it when you tease me," Brennan's voice trailed off.

"You should've thought of that before," Booth told her.

"Well, at least be fair," Brennan said.

"What?" he asked, more out of habit than because he actually had any intention to follow through with whatever Brennan wanted him to do. Unless it involves me penetrating you...ummm, now. Yup. Right now, Bones. Everything elsescrew it.

"Be fair," Brennan murmured again. "Your clothes?"

"What about them?" Booth grunted, biting back a smile as he knew what she wanted now, and in this, he was more than willing to give her exactly what she asked for, since it was what he wanted, too.

"You still have too many clothes on," she said, slipping her fingers underneath the waistband of his sweats and briefs. Hooking her thumbs over them, she quickly slid them off his hips and cupped his ass with her hands.

Booth laughed. "Wait," he whispered as he reached back and slid out of his sweats and underwear, kicking them off of his feet with an awkward wiggle.

"Don't keep me waiting here, Booth," she said with a smile, licking her lips in anticipation.

"Huh," was all he said as he hovered over her, hissing quietly as his firm arousal brushed against the silky skin of her stomach.

He leaned over and coasted his hand over her, skimming his fingers over the delicate structure of her collarbone, the gentle rise above her breasts, the slender roundness of her creamy white shoulders, and between her breasts down the flat plane of her stomach to her navel. Booth drew faint circles over her belly as he watched her squirm ever so slightly under his ministrations. He couldn't help but smile as it became apparent that the lighter his touch, the more she struggled to remain still. He winced as the tingle at the base of his spine grew more intense, and he felt himself get harder as he watched her respond to his caresses.

"Bones," he whispered, bringing his hand up her side before cupping her jaw, brushing his calloused right thumb over her high cheekbone. She opened her eyes, heavy-lidded as they were with desire, and looked deeply into his own dark brown eyes.

"Booth," she moaned softly.

Booth pursed his lips and smiled at her as he stroked his hand lightly over her forehead.

"Bones," he whispered. "Before we...before we do this, I need to know—are we good?" he asked her quietly, a quiver of uncertainty in his voice.

She held his gaze for a moment, seeing the pain, guilt and uncertainty there, and then slowly nodded. "I love you," she said. "I know that some would think me saying that to you or you saying that to me is some magic panacea to right all the wrongs that have ever happened between us, Booth. But, I love you...and yes," she said softly with a smile and a slight nod, "we're good."

She reached up, placed her hands on his hips, and pulled him to her. Booth lost his balance at the sudden movement and let out a grunted oomph as he fell against her. Quickly righting his position, Brennan watched him in amusement. She laughed as he shifted in bed to regain his stance. At the sound of her laugh, Booth's head shot up, and he gave her a look of feigned hurt. She smiled again and said, "Come on, clumsy."

"I'm not clumsy," Booth muttered. "I'm many things, Bones, but definitely not clumsy."

She widened her grin, extending her hands to him in supplication. "Fine, then prove it, Booth, Prove me wrong," she moaned as she felt his hot breath tickle an errant strand of sweat-damp hair against her forehead.

Booth closed his eyes and smiled, a sigh of relief passing between his lips before bringing them to Brennan's. No sooner had his lips brushed against hers than he felt her tongue stroke against his lower lip, inviting him to open his mouth to her. They kissed, gently and almost tentatively for the first few moments, then a low rumble sounded from deep within Booth's chest as he pressed his body against hers, their mouths grasping for one another with a desperation and a heat that eclipsed that which had washed over them as they embraced in the Rock Creek parking lot just an hour or so earlier.

"Booth," she moaned again, pleadingly, as she cupped her hands over his ass and pulled him against her. Her chest heaving and her skin flushed and hot, she brought one of her hands across his hip and wrapped her fingers around his stiff arousal.


"I need...you, God, Booth. Now, right now—" she panted. "I—" Her words were cut off as he covered her mouth with a demanding, hungry kiss. Just as suddenly, he pulled his lips away, leaving her breathless as he urged her to let go of him with a gentle shove of his forearm.

"Love you," he said as he looked down on her with a smile, his brown eyes burning dark with want. "You know that right? Always you—just you."

"I know," she replied, her voice barely louder than a whisper. "I know that."

"Do you?" Booth asked, pure honesty burning in his eyes. "Do you really?"

"As much as I know that I love you."

Hearing those words from her lips filled Booth with a sense of relief and joy that sent a surge of warmth through his chest. He took a breath and, looking into her pale eyes—which now glistened somewhat darker with a look that made him even harder as he held her gaze—he entered her with a single, smooth stroke.

"Bo-o-o-onness..." he groaned as he lost himself completely in the tight, wet, silky warmth of her. He withdrew slightly, then slowly pressed into her again. "Oh, God—"

Brennan opened her mouth but found herself unable to form words as she arched her back and met each of his strokes with an upward thrust of her hips. A gasp fell away from her mouth each time they moved, a short husky sigh that seemed to provide the perfect soundtrack for their exertions. They fell into a smooth, reciprocating rhythm, and as they moved together, the room echoed with the sound of her moans, his groans, and the heavy rise and fall of their collective breathing.

With each of his strokes, her breaths became more shallow and her moans louder, until the tight coil in her belly signaled that she had arrived at the edge of release. It happened quickly, almost too quickly for her brain to catch up with the familiar responses of her body. But, glancing down at her, Booth watched her eyes darken as her pupils dilated, then drew his hips back and pressed into her, holding himself deeply inside of her as he felt her tighten and then flutter around him.

"Boooothh..." she moaned, arching her back one last time as she felt his warm release inside of her.

"Oh, yeah," he whispered, grunting more than he'd intended into her. He struggled for breath, holding his weight on either side of her, and looking down into her eyes, he smiled. "God, I love you," he said, as he bent his head to kiss her.

Brennan smiled at him in that moment, her skin flushed and radiant with the release of her orgasm. She tilted her head up to meet his, and they locked eyes once more, happy and pleased that, at last, they finally seemed to be on the same page of the same book at the same time—and it was incredible.

Sometime later, Brennan was dozing in a wonderful swathe of comfortable lethargy. While Booth lay replete on his back, nodding off with his head turned on the pillow away from her, Brennan had draped herself over his broad chest. A small part of her mind, the very tiny part that was still capable of rational thought, grumbled that she would have to change the bedsheets again today. Between their frequent sexual encounters, coupled with the fact that they had just ended up in bed after a sweaty and vigorous jog in the park that had been chaotic in more ways than one, meant that the sheets were definitely going to need to be changed.

Booth's turn, she thought with a groggy yawn, happily ignoring the fact that he was changing his bedding when they ended up at his apartment just as much as she did at hers. Don't care, Brennan thought to herself with a small smile. I did it last time. It's his turn, now.

Grinning slightly, she shifted her ass to burrow more tightly against Booth's, and was just about to let sleep claim her when a sudden thought pop into her mind.

He never answered my question, Brennan abruptly realized. He...I can't believe he did that. He used that damn charm of his to try to get out of answering my question. She stopped, her eyes suddenly snapping open, and her ire piqued as she glanced up and saw Booth peacefully resting without a seeming care in the world. Pursing her lips together, Brennan shifted her jaw from left to right, and then nodded, her decision made.

Pressing her hip against his, Brennan gave him a quick, but definitive, shake.

"Mmmmmm..." came the mumbled response.

Her brow furrowing again, Brennan thrust her hip more forcefully against his as she said, "Booth."

At the sound of her calling his name, Booth reluctantly cracked open one eye.


"Wake up," Brennan said, it being clear that she was now not going to allow herself—or him—the luxury of an extended post-sex nap.

"Why?" he grumbled. "Sleepy."

"Nuh uh," Brennan said, quite pleased with herself as she tossed Booth's own words back at him. "Wake up."

With a sigh that quickly transitioned into a yawn, Booth reluctantly cracked open both of his eyes. "Fine," he yawned again. Looking at her, his throat rough with sleep, Booth muttered, "But, first, tell me why I'm not being allowed to go back to sleep again?"

Shifting, Brennan sat up in bed, and narrowed her eyes as she said, "You do know I have an eidetic memory, correct?"

"Is that some super-squint term for you never forgetting anything?" Booth asked.

"The more common term is photographic memory, although that's not a holistically accurate descriptor, yes," Brennan said, with a sharp nod.

"Then, yes," Booth yawned again. "Why?"

"So, if you know I have an eidetic memory, and never forget anything—"

"Just like an elephant, ehh, Bones?" Booth chuckled.

Brennan stared for a moment and then shook her head. "I'm not certain what my memory has in common with the Elephantidae family. Although they are an extremely long-lived species for a mammal, with an average life span of 50 to 70 years, there are no studies that I am aware of that indicate elephants of either the Elephas genus or Loxodonta genus have comparable memory skills to Homo sapiens—"

Shaking his head, Booth chuckled and said, "Never mind, Bones." Free from the pressure of Brennan's body pressing down on his chest, Booth took the opportunity to shift slightly in bed and sit up so that his back was bolstered by her headboard. "So, what didn't you forget that you want to bring up to torment me with now, Bones?" he grinned at her.

Narrowing her eyes, not surprised at how well he knew her, even if there was still a small part of doubt that lingered in her mind about how well she knew him, Brennan said, "You never answered my question."

Looking at her, Booth smiled and said, "No, I didn't."

"I didn't forget, Booth," Brennan replied. "I just chose not to press the issue when you were being rather creative—and, admittedly, persuasive—in your attempts to distract me."

"I never thought you would, Bones," Booth laughed.

"So, does that mean you're not going to answer me?" Brennan asked.

"No," Booth told her. "I have an answer for you, but I don't think it's going to be a very satisfying one for you."

"Try me," Brennan replied. "You might be surprised."

Booth nodded. "Okay." He paused for a few seconds and then said, "So, you want to know what makes you so different from all other blondes I've ever been attracted to or dated or...whatever, right?"

"If by 'whatever', you are implying the creation of sexual relationships, then, yes," Brennan said.

Booth arched an eyebrow, but then continued. "Okay, so here it is, Bones. The reason I was always into those type of girls is just, well, because that's what appealed to me. But, you...with you, there was never a question of appeal, Bones. For you, it was—well, it's kinda hard to explain. I know I tried to tell you that one night—"

His voice trailed off, and Brennan merely nodded, neither of them wanting to bring up the more painful aspects of their past unless absolutely necessary.

"But, anyway," Booth continued. "With you, it was never about appeal. With you, right from the start, it was always so much more. I—I never made a conscious choice to be attracted to you or to fall in love with you, Bones. It just happened. It was like a reflex...like breathing. I didn't make the conscious choice, because there wasn't a choice to be made. I just knew, Bones, right from the very start that you were it for me and none of those other women could ever hold a candle to you—because you're you, and they weren't. I just knew." His hand snaked out to clasp hers in a soft caress. "Does that answer your question?"

"No, not really—" Brennan began.

Booth laughed at this, a twinkle in his eye as he said, "See, I told you you wouldn't like the answer I had for you. It's not logical enough, huh?"

"No, it's not," Brennan said. "But, that doesn't mean it's not true...because, here we are, right?" She looked at him and smiled as she said, "I suppose I am just going to have to take your word on some things, Booth—this being one of them that I'm sure will be the first of many."

"You mean, you're going to have to take some things on faith, there, ehhh, Bones?" Booth chuckled.

Shaking her head, Brennan leaned in to kiss him, and said softly, "I wouldn't press your luck on that one, Booth." And, when they leaned in and met in a very sweet, very gentle kiss that carried with it the promise of many things yet to come for the pair, both of them already knew that they had both pressed their luck, and won, and were more happy for how things had turned out than either one would ever be willing to say.

~The End~

A/N2:So, there it is. What does everyone think? We know it can be tempting to let a final chapter go unreviewed, particularly if you've already left a comment on an earlier chapter. However, please don't leave us hanging. Please, please, please take pity and let us know how we did. Click that little 'review' button., don't forget to let us know of what you thought of the ending. Was it realistic? Not so much? Hot? Not? Give us a shout out and let us know if all the angst we put you through was worth the pay off. Until then, thanks for reading!