Summary: My contribution to the Season 7 hiatus. Happy survival!

A/N: Rated M because apparently when you enter the cave which they call Smut, you never leave. So turn away now if that bothers you or if you're just not into that kind of thing. Or if you're under legal age to be viewing such things in the country in which you reside.

Big thanks to dharmamonkey for her helpful insights. Fortunately for her, she's taught me well! ;) JUST KIDDING!

Disclaimer: *Checks personal possessions* Nope, still not mine. Just borrowing them for a bit. I promise to give them back when I'm finished! ;)

Wings of Dawn

It was dark as she pulled into the back of the parking lot, moving to deliberately park beneath the broken streetlight. It had been four months since she had last laid eyes on him and her heartbeat quickened while something stirred in her belly at the mere thought of seeing him again. She still remembered the grieved look on his face in the rear view mirror as she sped down the street with their daughter. She knew she was hurting him by leaving, but she also knew somewhere in his heart he would understand why she chose the path she was now walking.

Max had called her two days earlier and had supplied her with an address, date, and time of where she was to be. This was not a new occurrence; after four months of running, it had actually become routine. The difference was the specific instructions he had included with the information he gave her this time. His instructions had been very precise - visit him, cherish your time together, but be sure to leave before dawn. And above all else stay out of sight! He had come by earlier in the day, taking the baby with him, promising the two of them would see her in two days at the next rendezvous point.

She crossed the sparsely populated lot quickly, her tennis shoes making little noise on the asphalt as she made her way into the nearest darkened corridor. She had learned in the short time she was away how to move around without being noticed and how to hide among the shadows. She smiled to herself at the faint voice echoing inside: "Like Father, like daughter." As she made her way down the narrow passageway, she heard a muffled voice ahead of her. She stepped back, pressing herself against the cool, prickly brick until she heard the telltale rattle and jerk of a machine past its prime and the clunk!clunk!of ice cubes as they fell into the standard issue plastic bucket she knew to be offered by establishments such as these.

The sound of the machine dissipated as she listened for footsteps exiting the alcove, making their way off in the direction opposite her position. She released the breath she didn't realize she had been holding before making her way to the end of the hall, turning quickly up the stairs she found waiting for her.

She knew it was treacherous, coming here. But when Max mentioned to her several weeks ago that he would be in town a few days for a lecture, she knew she wouldn't be able to be so close without seeing him. She had nearly begged Max to help her see him; she had to see him! It had not been fair, leaving him abruptly and alone all those months ago and she had carried the guilt with her, knowing his heart was just as pained during their separation as her own. She had sent him a postcard with nothing more than a single bone drawn on the corner after the first month and Max had brought her a familiar plastic pig on a return trip from DC a few weeks later, but nothing more had transpired between the two since.

She looked up at the numbers on the door. 149. His room. He would be on the other side of that door. She held her breath as she pulled the key card from her back pocket, the plastic sticking to her sweaty palm. Sliding the card into the lock, she could hear the whirring of the mechanism and the distinct sfft-hum-click!of the lock as it unlatched within the doorknob's locking apparatus. The sound resounded in her ears as she pulled down on the knob quickly, afraid the sound would bring unwanted attention her way.

She pushed the door open, sliding inside the room quietly. She slipped into the dark, trying to catch the door before it slammed shut, alerting everyone - including the man on the mattress to her left - to her presence. As she closed the door, she noticed her efforts were done in vain as she turned to find Booth sitting up in bed, his biceps and forearms pulled taut with tension and his standard-issue service weapon in hand, already aimed at her form. As her blue eyes met his, a wash of emotions ran across his strong features: fear, determination, panic, relief, and love flashed quietly through his sleep-muddled eyes. The television was still on, an infomercial casting a faint glow across the room. As she slid the well-worn messenger bag from her shoulder, she looked at him closely, his muscles beginning to relax at the recognition of who was now standing before him.

"Bones?" His voice, rough from sleep, echoed through the quiet room as he lowered his weapon to the nightstand, still drinking in the sight that stood in front of him. "Bones, is it really you?"

He stood from the bed, throwing the thin sheet aside as he made his way quickly around to stand in front of her, his arms reaching out to touch her own, his mind not trusting that she was nothing more than a dream.

He had dreamed of her nearly every night since she went into hiding, regardless of where he finally drifted into restless slumber. If it were not her face he saw each time he closed his eyes, it was the smaller, younger version of her delicate features that he had come to know so well that filled his mind's eye. He had missed her more than any words could describe. He missed feeling her in his arms while he slept, waking up next to her, and getting ready for the day with her beside him. He missed watching her move through their home, cleaning and straightening as she gathered her students' recently reviewed papers, double-checking her notes before loading them into her bag. He missed watching her with their daughter.

"Bones?" he questioned again, noting that she still had not moved or spoken to him, despite being nearly toe-to-toe with him.

She smiled at the sound of his voice, having become lost in her own thoughts—remembering him and how she felt whenever he stood near. Four months was a long time to live without him, especially after the past year where she had grown accustomed to being in his constant presence. She knew it was just as hard on him as it was for her, possibly more so given that he was the "heart" to her "brain".

"Yes, Booth," she answered after he said her name a second time. "It's me." She stepped closer to him, deeply inhaling the somewhat familiar scent of hotel soap that had mingled with his own personal essence while he slept. She stepped closer to him, her hand moving to cup his cheek, the roughness of his unshaven skin sending tiny sparks coursing through her body. Four months is too long to be without him,she mused. The room was cool, but his skin was warm to the touch and the feelings that rose within her at being in his presence again simultaneously calmed and excited her.

His hands had moved to encircle her waist as their bodies naturally moved closer, having grown comfortable to sharing the same personal space. His breathing quickened at her close proximity, still circumspect at this being a very vivid dream. His fingers began to knead the soft flesh he found covering her hips, his fingers slipping beneath the soft cotton fabric of her shirt. I've missed this skin,he thought, his mind wanting to accept that she really was in his arms after the long absence.

He heard her low chuckle, glancing down to see her watching him. "I've missed your skin as well," she said, the words carried on her laughter. He laughed with her, not realizing the words had slipped out, grateful of her full acceptance of him. His hands moved to cup her shoulders and neck as he lowered his lips to meet hers, placing a chaste kiss on the satiny skin at the corner of her mouth.

"Please, baby, tell me this isn't a dream," he whispered, still frightened that speaking too loud would wake his subconscious and she would be lost to him again. She lifted to kiss him again, her tongue sliding between his lips.

"No, Booth, it's not a dream." Her hands slid across his shoulders, down to his waist, holding her to him as their mouths became fused once again.

"Not a dream," she heard him whisper when he finally broke the kiss. His eyes were dark, changed from their normal chocolate brown to dark ebony that she had come to identify as arousal. She rested her forehead against his, the air between them heavy with a mix of contentment and desire.

"Bones." Her name dripped from his lips, her heart swelling at hearing the moniker he had bestowed upon her so many years before. "I'm so glad you're here, baby, but where's Christine?" His voice was low but full of emotion, his body becoming rigid at the mention of the baby. Though the love of his life was here with him, the child their love had created was not. He had missed her, yes; that pain was mirrored by the loss of their daughter in his day-to-day living. She had been so focused on seeing him again and had not realized their daughter's lack of appearance would worry him to the same extent that her presence might alleviate his emotional pain.

"She's safe," she reassured him. She ran her hand along the nightly stubble on his face, bringing his lips to meet hers once again. "She's with Max. He's taking care of her until I get back. I wanted to bring her for you, but it was too dangerous," she said, her words slipping out between their kisses.

He relaxed at her assurance, chastising himself for assuming she would leave her child—their daughter—in the hands of anyone that wasn't more than one hundred percent capable of taking care of her. She had a justified mistrust of people due to her childhood, and he knew their experiences working together over the past eight years had only fueled that concern. He pushed the thoughts from his mind as he deepened the kiss, his tongue mingling with hers as he focused all attention on her.

His hands roamed her body, content to touch her as he had longed to do since their lives had changed following the death of Ethan Sawyer and the release of Christopher Pelant. He pushed her jacket down, letting it slip from her arms to pool on the floor behind her. She pulled closer to him again, feeling the beginnings of his arousal pressing against her tender center.

Their movements were quick, a rhythm and routine that had been mastered the first night they had joined together, celebrating life after experiencing the loss of their beloved friend. Their clothes were discarded quickly as Booth maneuvered them towards the bed, a tangle of arms and legs falling together into the soft surface.

His lips moved from hers, tracing the familiar path along her jaw, lavishing his attention on the soft skin around her ear, alternating between nibbling, licking, and kissing her there. She moaned at the long-lost feel of his lips on her skin again, tangling her fingers in his hair as he continued to adore the flesh of her neck.

She inhaled deeply, her nose pressed against his shoulder, appreciating the odor of sweat and male musk that was uniquely him. Her mind reeled at the memories united with the emanation she had come to think of as simply 'Booth.' She gnawed at his skin, feeling the muscle underneath twitch at her efforts. She smiled, feeling his body shift against her, the effect of her actions mirrored in his own against her skin. He rose up on his forearms, kissing her once before moving down her chin to her neck, finally settling in the space between her breasts. One hand moved to cup a soft mound while his lips sought the rosy bud of her other breast. She circled her hips in tandem as he circled her nipple with his lips, her warm core grinding against his arousal. He groaned deep in his throat at the feel of her moving against him, the vibration from his voice reverberating through her chest. She felt the sparks of arousal shoot down her spine, settling in her lower belly as he moved his attentions to her other breast.

Her hands roamed the tan skin of his back, dipping beneath the cotton fabric of his shorts to palm his muscular cheeks. She rolled her hips against him again, clutching him to her center as she pressed into him, silently screaming her need to be joined with him. He jerked into her, tearing his mouth from her with a gasp.

"Bones, please," he choked. "It's been a while. You know that." He thrust against her again, enjoying the feel of her hands on him as she moved one hand deftly around, her fingers wrapping around him.

She grinned wickedly as she lifted her mouth to his, pumping him once before releasing her grasp on him. Her tongue explored his mouth as he grasped at her with his lips, sucking and biting at her lower lip. His hands moved to cup her bottom, shifting her slightly so he could feel her heat more directly against him. He pulled her tighter against his lower half, pressing his length into her with need. She moaned against his neck, trailing hot kisses along the stubble she found growing along his jawline.

She gasped when he slipped two fingers past her underwear, parting her folds before sliding one, then two fingers into her. She nipped at his jaw, enjoying the feeling of his fingers inside her. She rode his fingers, building the delicious tension inside before he slipped away, pulling her underwear down to her knees in one quick motion.

She lifted up, pushing the offending garment off while he rid himself of his boxers. He gazed down at her, her body lying beneath his. His hands found their way to her delicate waist, tracing light patterns on her skin. With his hands on her hips, his thumbs rubbed at the soft swell of her stomach, his eyes meeting hers in an instant. She smiled a knowing smile at him, surprised he had noticed so quickly the change in her body.

"Yes?" he asked, his eyes alight with a sparkle she had not seen since that night on the street nearly two years before. She gave a small nod, knowing there were no words necessary. He smiled back, a slight sadness covering his features as his mind reeled with the knowledge that although this should be a joyous experience, it was marred by the fact that they were unable to celebrate this miracle together. She lifted her hand to him, her thumb rubbing small circles near his lips. When her blue orbs met his own, he inhaled sharply, surprised by the intense emotions he found swirling there. He moved to kiss her palm before leaning down to kiss her lips.

He slipped into her with ease, moaning at the warmth he found welcoming him. She gasped at their union, reveling in the feeling of having him buried within her once again. They lay together for a moment, enjoying the connection of intimacy. He moved once, nearly leaving her before pushing back into her, deeper than before. He threw his head back, enjoying the feeling of her body surrounding him, welcoming him in as she moved to take him even deeper still. He groaned as she lifted up and pulled him in again in one swift motion. She repeated the movement again, a small squeak escaping the back of her throat as she felt him hit her hilt. He pulled her to him, his mouth seeking her hungrily.

She bucked beneath him, pulling him in as one leg rose to hook around his hips. He pushed into her, his thrusts increasing in speed as he felt her inner walls grasp at him with each push forward. The tension built low in her belly, her hormones on high alert after being without him for so long. She moaned once, twice before she felt the metaphorical spring coil and break inside her, his name escaping her lips in an exclamation.

He felt her release from within, her inner walls grasping at him, holding and pulling until there was nowhere else for him to go. His movements increased, pumping into her sporadically as his own release overtook him. He pushed into her one last time before collapsing on top of her warm body, her arms holding him to her as their breathing began to even out following their exertions.

He kissed her shoulder, his tongue darting out to taste the sweat on her skin. She hugged him closer at the feel of his lips on her body, moving her lips to his ear.

"I love you, Booth," she whispered, the soft biting at her shoulder his only response to her admission. She cupped his neck, pulling his ear closer to her lips. She kissed the sensitive skin beneath his ear, her own tongue tasting him there. A sound escaped his throat as he continued to kiss at her shoulder and neck, appreciating the feeling of her being in his arms again.

He stilled, his body finally relaxing as he rolled off of her, still holding her body close to his. He kissed her lips chastely, whispering his own "I love you" to her in the dimly-lit space between them. She moved to whisper in his ear again, her words soft and caring, so small that he was afraid he would miss them.

She pulled back from him, searching his face for an answer to her quiet query. His eyes met hers and a smile broke across his face, the need to communicate without words ever-present in their relationship. She kissed him again as he closed his eyes, taking delight in the feel of her in his arms. He knew when he opened his eyes again she could be gone.

But for now, she was here. With him. He fought against slumber for as long as he could, feeling her watch him as he knew she often did when they were together. He smiled as her words replayed in his head, sleep finally overtaking him.

When his breathing had evened out and she was sure he was sleeping deeply, she slipped from the bed. She moved quietly, not wanting to wake him. She knew, just from knowing him, that he did not sleep as well when they were apart. The few times they had been apart since moving forward with their relationship, he had complained about sleeping without her beside him. The past few months would have been very difficult for him, not only having her gone, but Christine as well. She watched him as she gathered her undergarments and redressed. The sadness and guilt was still there. She still felt it. But she knew it was the best thing for now.

She continued to gather her things, slipping into her jacket before picking up her discarded bag. She turned again, seeing him sprawled across the sweat-creased hotel linens, his face relaxed in slumber. He made a noise—a contented sigh—that seemed to echo throughout the room; she smiled, having heard the same sound nearly every night from the baby that shared her own bed.

She pulled a small notepad from her bag, quietly pulling a sheet of paper from the wire mesh that bound the pages together. She drew a heart on the paper, adding a small stirrup shaped symbol at the bottom of the page, followed by an "XO" three times. She padded through the room, moving to place the paper on the pillow beside him before placing a kiss on his forehead. He didn't move at the feel of her lips, but another soft sigh escaped his lips as she moved to leave. She pulled her bag onto her shoulder, her hand moving gently to caress the small bump at the front of her jeans.

Life. Love. It was a gamble, but it was one she was now willing to take. Living for so long without him, then with him, and now without him again had changed her. She had weighed the evidence in her mind over the past four months and, knowing this would all come to an end sometime, she had concluded that this was the direction her life should take. And there was no more fear there.

He would take care of her. He would take care of them. Always.

And she took comfort in that as her hand instinctively covered her stomach again as she made her way out the heavy metal door and back towards her vehicle. Yes, she thought with a smile. He will definitely take care of us all.

Just a little something to help aide the loneliness of the hiatus!

Enjoy your hiatus folks! And enter a few words and let me know what you think! (Please)