Title: A Love Warm and Bright (3/3)

Rating: T

Spoilers: Up til the end of S5 and current S6 spoilers.

Disclaimer: Bones is the property of FOX, Hart Hanson, and various other awesome and intelligent people who work for one of the best television shows currently on air.

Author's Notes: First up, thank you to all those who reviewed this story, put it on their story alerts, and took the time to favorite this. I really appreciate all your comments and words of encouragement - it definitely kept me going even though my brain was stuck and I desperately needed a cup of coffee. Thanks also to my Mysterious Beta S, who helped me on the tough parts and made sure that all my i's were dotted and t's crossed. :)

Brennan followed Booth out of the Jeffersonian and into the standard-issued SUV parked just outside the lab entrance. She didn't say anything when he opened the door for her; kept her mouth quiet as he returned the cardboard box bearing her things (his things, she reminded herself) into the back of the van, and then slipping into the driver's seat and revving up the engine.

They drove around the block once, twice, passing by the diner and the Founding Fathers, and hooking a left down 3rd Street towards Independence Avenue. She watched the blur of traffic from the side window, the undulating February sunlight peeking from the rooftops and reflecting against the glass office buildings. Booth drove quietly, and she didn't feel the need for conversation - she knew he would talk when he was ready.

After what seemed like an eternity, he pulled up to the parking lot of the Botanic Gardens. Even after all the years she lived in DC, there was something about the Gardens that appealed to her romantic side (although she would vehemently deny that she even had a romantic side in the first place; it was simply not practical). Maybe it was the abundance of flora that surrounded them, or the graceful curves and glass designs of the Conservatory that dominated the skyline, or the simple peacefulness that pervaded the gardens. Allowing Booth to take her by the hand, they walked through the entrance and wandered into the Regional Gardens. He made his way towards one of the simple stone seats that were half-hidden behind a copse of trees, and she followed.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly as soon as they had sat down. She noticed that he still hadn't let go of her hand.

He nodded quietly. "I know."

"Did you love her?"

He took a deep breath, stroking the soft skin at the back of her hand with his thumb. The sensation sent tendrils of warmth coursing through Brennan's body despite the slight chill in the air. "I don't think I gave it the chance, you know? Out there, in the desert, things are different. You don't know if there were mines hidden under the ground, or if there was an army hiding in the next village, or if there was a gun aimed at your head from a hundred miles away. Things were tense. You wanted to grasp at any chance you had for happiness, for a moment when you could forget that you were in the middle of a war." Booth's face was drawn and pale, his brow furrowing as he tried to find the right words to tell her what he was thinking.

"Hannah was my shot at that. I know it sounds mean and callous right now, but when you're waiting to die, it's all you've got. She was embedded into our unit for six months, and she knew, Bones. She knew everything. She knew about the heat, the god-fuckin'-awful rations we had, the sounds of shells exploding near the base, all that blood staining the sand. They were so young, Bones, they barely had a chance to live. And I taught them how to kill. And she understood that. And she still held me in the middle of the night, when I couldn't take it anymore. All that guilt, all that anger directed at nothing. There was nobody to blame. I made the decision to leave."

She curled her fingers into his palm, fitting them into the grooves between his fingers as though they were two perfect pieces of the same puzzle. "I'm sorry I drove you away. And I'm sorry I wasn't there. I'm sorry... that I wasn't brave enough, or strong enough, or good enough for you."

"Naw, Bones." He stared at the ground, the rich brown fertile soil peeking out from beneath the flagstones, the slight scuff marks on his shoes. "I chose to go back, you know? I could've stayed. I could've waited." For you.

"You know I run away when I'm frightened, Booth."

"I know." He looked at her closely, trying to read her indecipherable blue eyes. "Are you still scared?"

She took a deep breath, willing her lips to say the right words for once. "No."

"Then it's not your fault."

They were silent for a long time. She leaned her head on his shoulder; he rested his chin on her hair, breathed in the scent of her shampoo mingling with the rising scent of roses.

"I thought about you a lot, at the dig. But I wasn't sure about what I was feeling. And I thought for awhile, I could still ignore it. I thought I could forget it. I thought that it wasn't real." She sighed quietly, looping her arm around his and slipping her hand into his. Booth tightened his fingers around hers. "I'm no good at the love stuff, Booth. You know that. You've seen me at my worst."

He smiled into her hair. "But you forget, Bones, that I've also seen you at your best."

"Yes, but my best was always with - " You.

Oh.

"You said you love me, Bones."

"I find that there was no other word to accurately and truthfully describe this emotion I have concerning you, Booth." She burrowed her head into his sleeve jacket for a moment, as though she was suddenly shy. "Did you know that the ancient Greeks classified love into four distinct types? Eros, agape, philia, storge."

"You forgot the fifth one: xenia."

She looked up to catch the satisfied expression on his face. "That's right, baby," he said, "There's more in this head than just Steelers stats."

She laughed. "I don't know what that means."

Booth smiled at her. "So here's a question for you, Bones: which type of love do you feel for me?"

She pondered his question for awhile. "I believe it started off with philia - a love of the mind, a sense of family. You found my brother and father, Booth, and you gave me the family I have right now, and not just by blood. I would never have stayed at the Jeffersonian this long had it not been for Angela and Jack, Cam, even Zack. You made me put down roots.

"And then it evolved into eros - sexual desire, passion, love of the body. I've always known you were a handsome man, Booth, but somehow, you surpassed our culture's definition of what handsome is. What made you attractive, it's more than just having a well-structured face or extremely proportional musculature. You're also a good man, and a good father, and a good friend, and I discovered that all of those things contributed to my desire of you."

"So basically, you thought I was hot and sexy?"

She snorted. "Don't think too highly of yourself, Booth. Your belt buckle might explode."

He cleared his throat. Damn, my pants are too tight. "And now?"

"I believe that it has evolved once more, especially in your absence, into agape - a love of the soul. I find it difficult to describe accurately how I feel about that, but rather everything about you... everything about you reminds me of home." Shakily, she tried to draw a breath. "I haven't had a home since I was fifteen, Booth."

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her towards him into a hug. She pressed her nose into his shoulder, ashamed that he would see her tears. Booth rubbed his hands up and down her back soothingly, murmuring nonsense words into her ear. "Bones, are you crying?"

"No I'm not," she said thickly, fully aware that her sinuses were closing up and her eyes were watery with tears.

"Then why do you sound like you just woke up with a head cold, huh?" He hauled her up to her feet and started ushering her towards the exit. "Come on, let's get you home, okay? I don't want you getting pneumonia in this weather."

"Pneumonia isn't caused by the weather, Booth - "

"I don't care, come on, we're going somewhere warm."

Her apartment was nearer. He noted that she still had unpacked boxes scattered around the living room and dining area. Her furniture gleamed, as though someone had given them a fresh wax and a good dusting, and he sank thankfully into the sofa, unraveling his scarf and pulling off his gloves as she moved towards the kitchen. "I'll make us some coffee," she called out.

"That would be good, Bones." He shrugged off his trenchcoat and stretched out his legs on the couch. The sun was setting, and the living room windows faced the horizon. Shards of light lengthened across the hardwood floor, tracing the outlines of the cityscape, a play of light and shadow. He missed this - this moment of quiet just before the storm, when it was just the two of them, getting ready to face the rest of the world. He never really realized how much he relied on her presence until he stood in his regulation fatigues, out in the middle of God-knows-where with sand in his mouth and a gun in his hand, and he turned to say something to her only to realize that she wasn't there.

She came back to the living room holding two mugs in her hands. She placed them on the coffee table and looked at him sprawled on her couch, his head resting on one of her throw pillows, and gave him a patented glare. "If you're going to put your feet on my couch, you should take your shoes off first. You're going to soil the fabric."

He smiled as he toed off his shoes and let them drop on the floor. He wiggled his toes gleefully, looking up at her. "I'm wearing your socks," he said, tugging at the hem of his dress slacks to display the burgundy red cotton socks pattered with skulls and crossbones.

She raised an eyebrow. "You know, that must not be so comfortable," she said quietly, sliding into the couch beside him, her fingers cradling the back of his head. Gently, she maneuvered him so that he was lying on his back, his head cradled on her lap, her fingers running through his cropped dark hair. He sighed in delight. The old Bones, the pre-I-need-to-go-to-Maloopoopoo-Islands-to-find-myself Bones would never do this. He could almost enjoy the way her defenses went down; she was a much warmer person than she allowed herself to be.

"Booth?"

His eyes were closed, lulled by the rhythmic strokes of her fingers on his scalp. "Yep?"

"What do we do now?"

Booth cracked open one eye to see Brennan's wide-eyed expression in front of him, her cornflower eyes swirling with emotion. "Well," he said quietly, "we will still be partners, friends, that's for sure. Nothing will change that, come hell or high water, okay Bones?"

She gave him a soft smile. "I think I know what that means."

"Good. Then you know that we're okay, you and me. And as for this thing... well, you might as well change your Facebook status to 'attached to the hip with Seeley Booth', 'cos baby, when you said you loved me, that means it's for keeps."

"You know I have no idea what you're talking about, right?" But there was a smile of relief of Brennan's face. "But it feels so... unbalanced right now. I mean, you just broke up with Hannah today, and now you want to what? Be attached to me at the hip? Not only would that be a dangerous medical procedure, but I also fail to see the implications - "

"Bones, Bones, Bones. Relax. It's a metaphor. And you're right, we should take this slow. Get our bearings."

"You know that statistically speaking, when you say you love someone forever, it's impossible. Because forever doesn't exist."

"Yes, but that doesn't mean we can't try, Bones. The point is, we have to try. And you and me, this is our shot at trying to get to forever." He pulled himself into an upright position and sat beside Brennan, their thighs touching, shoulders bumping against each other. She turned her face to look at him. He bridged the gap, their breaths mingling. He saw her gaze drop to half-mast, felt the warmth rising from her body as she leaned forward and -

This was no drunken kiss, pregnant with possibilities. This was not a kiss brought on by extenuating circumstances, the moment stretching into infinity like a piece of peppermint gum. Neither was this a kiss of desperation, coated with tears and broken dreams. No, this was a kiss that meant that a universe was being born, stars careening out of orbit, everything crashing down around their ears - her lips teased his, arms twining around his neck as she pulled him down towards her, her tongue caressing the soft flesh of his mouth. She was warm and pliable in his hands, making quiet breathy gasps as his fingers skimmed the surface of her stomach underneath the woolen fabric of her sweater, brushed the soft underside of her breasts.

She was the one who broke off the kiss, gasping, her pale cheeks flushed with a becoming shade of pink. "Booth...," she breathed out. Her arms were still wrapped around his neck, her legs half-straddling him on the couch. She leaned her forehead against his, trying to calm her racing heart.

"Slow, Bones, real slow." He ran his hands up and down her back, sliding down the curves of her hips to rest there. "We should take it slow. I haven't even taken you out on a date yet."

"We've gone on dates. The diner. Wong Foo's. Founding Fathers. Even formal events at the Jeffersonian."

"Yes, but we went as partners, Bones. We've never gone out together on a date date, you know, where you dress up in pretty clothes and lacy lingerie and a pair of fuck-me heels, and I pick you up and bring you flowers and take you out for dinner and dancing and maybe you'll let me drive you home, and maybe invite me up for a cup of coffee..."

"And in your hypothetical scenario, how would this 'date date' end?"

He grinned at her, his eyes sparkling mischievously. "Babe, if I play my cards right, there's only gonna be one ending."

"And how soon do we actually prove your hypothesis?"

"Soon. I promise" Regretfully, he pressed his lips against her forehead and then gently extricated himself from her embrace. He reached out to take a swig of the coffee she had left on the table, grimacing as the cool liquid touched his tongue. Were we making out that long? Beside him, Brennan composed herself - her dark brown hair now tucked neatly behind her ears, her bangs brushing her forehead, her legs primly pressed together. His eyes wandered the apartment, his eyes finally settling on Jasper and Brainy Smurf resting on the coffee table, where he'd left them a couple of nights ago. A surge of affection went through him at seeing his gifts so prominently displayed. Brennan saw him looking and nudged his shoulder playfully. "Like what you see?"

"I'm just glad they're home."

"You do know they're just inanimate objects, right Booth?"

"Sometimes inanimate objects hold an intrinsic value that's bigger compared to what they actually are, Bones. You should know that. You're an anthropologist."

She cocked her head at him thoughtfully. "You just used my own discipline on me."

He grinned. "Apparently, I hang around squints too much."

"Who said that?"

He felt a pang of sadness. "Hannah." He took a deep breath. "She said she felt dumb after meeting you guys for the first time and asked me if I had any 'normal' friends. I guess that's the first sign, huh? She didn't like my family."

Brennan reached out and placed her hand on his knee. "I'm sure Parker must've liked her."

"She never even met Parker - she knew I had a son, though. But there was never a chance: she was too busy whenever I'd invite her to come along to one of Parker's games, and he didn't want her to stay over when it was his weekends with me."

"So when you were referring to your family...?"

"I was referring to you guys. Ange. Hodgins. Cam. Sweets. My family."

She smiled quietly. "You once told me there's more than one kind of family."

"Glad to see you finally believe me."

"I've always held your opinion in high regard."

"Does that mean you'll finally eat apple pie?" he asked hopefully.

No," she said, wrinkling her nose in distaste. "Fruit should not be cooked. Plus, you lose all the nutritional aspects of the apples when you cook them in sugar and preservatives..."

"Okay, okay, I get it." He stood up and opened his arms, offering her a hug. "Anyway I have to go."

"Oh." He didn't miss the look of disappointment on her face as she stood up and stepped into his embrace. It lasted only for a moment, before she shrugged off his arms and bent down to pick up the coffee mugs on the table. "So I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Definitely." He waggled his eyebrows. "After all, you owe me a date now."

She rolled her eyes at him and ushered him towards the door, carefully balancing the ceramic mugs in her hands. "By the way, my stuff is with you."

"Oh you mean my stuff, Bones. After all, you said you didn't need them anymore."

"No, I said - " He silenced her with a swift kiss, his tongue quickly tasting her skin and coffee. She glared at him when he pulled back. "I hope you're not planning to do that at work. It would be highly inappropriate."

"And you know I'm all about being appropriate," he deadpanned.

Her brow furrowed as she tried to decipher his words. "Oh!" she said, her eyes lighting up. "You're being sarcastic."

He laughed as he exited the apartment. "Yes, yes I am. And as for 'your things', you're going to have to earn them back, Bones."

"What? How?"

"By going out with me." And with that, he closed the door behind him, missing the expression of pure joy flash across Brennan's face.

A/N: And yeah, that's the end. But not to worry - there will be a sequel in the works. Thanks again for reading this! *hugs and kisses*