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The Start of Something New

He wakes up with a god-awful crick in his neck, a cramp in his leg, and feeling absolutely on top of the world. What can possibly be better than dreaming about Bones in his arms and then waking up to just that? He can't even remember how many times, how many countless mornings, he's woken up to a cold bed and only faint memories of a dream-Bones. The real thing just about blows his mind.

He only gets to watch her for a few precious seconds before she stirs too and opens her eyes sleepily. When she notices him, her eyes fly open in shock, and he takes the moment to freeze that expression on her face in his mind so he remember it and laugh later.

"You okay, Bones?" he asks in amusement, raising an eyebrow at her.

She has her arms up between them, and she just stares at him for a long few seconds. Then her eyes dart down to her body, and she lifts the covers ever-so-slightly, shifting so he can't see.

He chuckles at how absolutely adorable she is when she's confused. "All your clothes are still in place," he tells her, rolling out from under the covers so she can see he's fully-clothed too. "We didn't do anything."

She clutches the bed-sheets with wide eyes. "Booth…you…did we…what happened?"

"Don't tell me short-term memory loss is common in people our age," he teases, reaching forward to muss her already-messy hair. "I'll be pretty upset if you don't remember anything from last night."

His tone is light, but inside, he's just a bit afraid. What he's scared of is Bones backing out, Bones thinking up some convoluted, reasonable theory that makes no sense to him but effectively logics her way out of their newly-found relationship, Bones running. Again.

She wouldn't do that to him…would she?

Then slowly, slowly, realization spreads across her face, and the confusion and near-horror washes away. He lets out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and flashes her the wide smile he saves for her eyes only.

"Remember now?" he asks cheerily, grinning at her.

She answers him by pulling him in for a long, savory kiss, and he decides right then and there that he wants to be woken up like this every morning for the foreseeable future. It'd definitely lower his stress levels and stop him from taking his frustrations and stress out on the firing range every so often. Who needs to fire a gun when kissing Bones has a thousand times the allure and sparks?

Her eyes are bright when she breaks away, and she laughs softly. "I feel like I'm dreaming."

He pretends to think for a moment before shaking his head. "Nope. Dream-Bones has nothing on the real you."

At that, her eyebrow twitches upwards in amusement, and she asks, "You dreamed about me?"

"Every night," he growls, rolling so he's on top of her. "You have no idea."

She stares back up at him and replies promptly, "You feature prominently in my fantasies too," and then proceeds to lick her lips ever-so-slowly like she has no idea what she does to him—completely false, judging by the teasing light in her too-innocent gaze.

He groans and rolls off of her. "Don't do that. We'll never get out of bed."

"We technically never did anything in it," Bones points out. "Seven years—isn't it past time?"

"Past time we did what?" he teases, trying for some of the pretend-obliviousness Bones excels at.

Before he's fully aware of her moving, she flips over so she's leaning on his chest, her eyes mischievous as she touches his lips with her fingers. "Past time we finished what we started when we first met."

It's tempting. Oh, so tempting. They're in bed together, finally, both more than willing participants, not drunk or impaired by medication, with no case to speak of, no new bones coming in to the Jeffersonian as far as he knows…

Oh, what the hell. He can take a sick day, and so can she. She probably has all seven years' worth of those stored up anyway.

He pulls her into a kiss, pushing the hem of her shirt up to trail his fingers across the smooth, smooth skin of her bare waist. She groans into his mouth as he licks her bottom lip, and her own hands tangle in his hair, pulling them closer together.

He retracts for barely half a second, just to be sure they aren't making a mistake. One word from her—yes—and it'll be full speed ahead. "You sure you want to—"

"Yes," she breathes, kissing him again, hungrily this time. How long have they needed this? So many, many years. It feels like he's tasting oxygen for the first time after being submerged for so long. He presses her into the pillows and helps her lift up his shirt, tossing it over his shoulder and—

Something sharp sinks into his ankle, and he lets out an absolutely undignified yelp, jerking back from Bones. Both of them stare at each other for a startled moment before glancing down at his feet to find a disgruntled white puppy gnawing on his right leg.

Well, that just completely destroys the mood. Bones bursts out into loud laughter, and he sits up, prying Jupiter's teeth off his leg.

"These are my favorite socks," he complains, fingering the small but noticeable puncture marks the puppy's teeth tore. "What a damn troublemaker."

Laughing again as he glares at the puppy, Bones surmises quickly, "He must be hungry."

"No kidding," Booth grumbles, sticking his finger through one of the holes. "I just knew he was going to be trouble. Why did we shut him in here with us again?"

Pulling her shirt down and rolling out of bed (which makes him groan and wonder when he'll ever get anywhere with her), Bones pads to the door and opens it. "So he wouldn't get into any of my expensive belongings," she reminds him, watching carefully as the puppy scampers out of the room. "Come on, we have to supervise him."

"Should have never bought him," Booth complains as he pulls on his shirt and follows her into the kitchen. Bones casts around for a minute in search of dog food before he remembers abruptly that he has a bag of it in his trunk.

"I'll run and get it," he tells her.

With a harrumph and knowing look at Jupiter, she nods and crosses her arms. "I should probably stay and make sure he doesn't break my antique vase from Uruk."

Booth chuckles and rolls his eyes. "And make sure he doesn't knock over the TV. That would be a real shame."

"And breaking my vases isn't?" she calls after him, and he just shakes his head and steps out with a wide smile on his face.

By the time he collects the twenty-pound bag of dog food from his SUV and returns to Bones' apartment, the smile is still plastered across his expression, and he can't stop. He even hums under his breath as he lets himself back into Bones' apartment; he's feeling better than he's ever felt in his entire life. Amazing how something as little as a few words can turn his world upside down. Amazing how he loves it upside down.

"You took your time," Bones comments as he finds her still in the kitchen.

He cocks an eyebrow at her, taking in just how adorable she is seated cross-legged on the ground feeding Jupiter chunks of a granola bar. Two wrappers already litter the floor, and the puppy snuffles them for a second before lunging for Bones again, his tail wagging furiously.

"And you two seem to be bonding pretty well," he returns, dropping the bag of food to the ground. "Are you feeding him granola bars? Gross."

She glances at him, obviously hiding her amusement under a thin veil of irritation. "How many times do I have to tell you, Booth? My granola bars are a great deal healthier than your usual diet. I don't complain about your pie, do I?"

He snorts. "Yeah, you do. You also complain about my fries, burgers, and the occasional ice cream sundae. Although I don't know why you complain about how greasy my fries are when you steal them anyway."

She frowns. "That's different."

He laughs and moves to sit next to her. "Of course it is." Jupiter leaps up and slobbers all over their faces, and Bones pushes his snout away with a laugh.

"You have an awesome laugh," he tells her, feeling a rush of elation at being able to speak his thoughts out loud. "I love your laugh." He's loved it since the first time he heard it, low and full, lighting up her eyes in a way that makes his blood rush.

Her cheeks flush, which makes him grin widely and continue, "You look gorgeous when you blush. Never got the chance to tell you that, but now…" He slips his hand into hers and relishes the feeling when she curls her fingers around his own.

"You have a very even, white smile," she replies. He's about to snort and ask her what kind of compliment that is when she adds, "I always liked the way you smiled. As illogical as it sounds, it softens your eyes." She glances away and clears her throat self-consciously. "It makes me feel special."

He laughs lowly, affectionately, and throws his arm around her shoulders. "Of course it makes you feel special; the smile's for you. And anyway, you're the one making me feel special, Bones. Honestly, I don't know what I did to deserve you."

"You have desirable genes for mating," she answers, in that teasingly logical way she has, "which makes it easy to see why I'm attracted to you."

Oh. Is that all? He rolls his eyes and says, "That makes me feel great, Bones. You want me for my genes."

She flushes again—adorably again—and mutters, "Well, it's more than that."

He's about to speak again—to ask her what sort of stuff more—when his phone rings. He cranes his neck to catch sight of his jacket slung on the back of the couch and groans.

"You could leave it," Bones suggests, her fingers tightening infinitesimally around his.

He hesitates for a moment, because that's certainly a tempting thought. Almost too tempting. He wants nothing more than to spend the rest of the day with Bones, even if it's on the kitchen floor feeding granola bars to an already-spoiled puppy. But what if it's a murder? What if it's some serial killer that could've been caught if he hadn't been lazing around with Bones?

As tempting as it is, duty always comes first.

"Sorry," he says apologetically, reluctantly releasing her hand.

"I get it," she answers, and he knows she does. Padding over to his jacket, he fishes out his phone and answers it.

Yep, it's a body found, but it doesn't seem too urgent. Hacker is a bit peeved since his calls have been reaching voicemail, and Booth realizes sheepishly that he has three missed calls, probably all collected while he and Bones were having a nice nap in her bed. Hacker's already contacted the Jeffersonian, though, so things are moving along. Cam already headed out to see the body since it was still fully-fleshed, and the remains are in transit to the Jeffersonian. There's not much they can do until the body arrives and the squints ascertain if it's murder or not. Booth figures he and Bones can take their time arriving.

"A case?" Bones asks as he hangs up.

He nods. "Yep, body found in a Dumpster downtown. They already sent it to the Jeffersonian, though, and it'll take an hour. So…"

She arches an eyebrow in a way he finds absolutely drool-worthy. "So…?"

He flashes her his charm smile and picks up his coat. "Want to stop for some breakfast?"

Pushing Jupiter away gently, she rises and laughs. "Why are you even bothering to ask? Of course."

Brennan's late. And she is never late.

Sure, Angela figures she's overreacting again, but it's all for a reason. One of these times, Bren will be late because she really has been kidnapped, and Angela will be so glad she's being hyper-vigilant about her friend. Better safe than sorry.

She calls Cam first, just to see if Bren called in sick. Nope, no word from the resident anthropologist. She calls Booth next, because those two are practically joined at the hip, or they should be. Granted, it's been a weird few months, but the FBI agent and anthropologist duo seem to be getting their mojo back. So it seems logical that Booth would be with Brennan, wherever they are.

She tries not to sound too worried as Booth picks up. "Booth? Is Bren with you?"

She can hear him shifting, and he replies, "Why? Is she not at the Jeffersonian?"

Damn those pregnancy hormones, making her feel irrationally panicked. Even after having the baby, she still feels like her emotions are running on steroids.

"She isn't here," Angela answers as evenly as she can manage, pacing the length of her office. "No one's heard from her. Booth, what if she got abducted? What if she—"

"Relax, Angela," he interrupts with a laugh. "I'm messing with you. She's right here."

The panic turns into fury at breakneck speed. She'd probably get a Guinness world record for that.

"Seeley Booth," she growls, "don't you ever, ever do that to me! When I see you, I am going to wring your hot, FBI neck until there's nothing left but blood and dust—no, just dust—"

Another laugh on his part. "That sounds painful."

It takes her a moment to realize that the voice came from behind her, and she whips around to find both parts of the dynamic duo in the doorway of her office, Booth holding his phone to his ear. He snaps it shut and grins cheerily at her. "Hey, Angela."

"Jerk," she mutters. Slipping her phone in her pocket, she arches her eyebrow and crosses her arms. "So where have you two been? It's almost lunchtime, which means you're…what? Three, four hours late?"

Booth gives Bren a smile, and Angela's eyebrow twitches higher. He's giving her that smile, the one always said, I love you, you blind idiot. The one he's never given Brennan directly to her face so…obviously.

"We were busy," Brennan answers vaguely. She shoots Booth a knowing look, and Angela's curiosity level ratchets up a notch.

"Doing what?" she asks skeptically, giving them a bland look.

Booth's face splits nearly in half with one of the widest, happiest grins she's ever seen from him, and he replies, his voice laden with laughter, "Oh, you know, work stuff: feeding the dog, having breakfast at the diner, talking, dropping the dog off at my place…and other stuff." His smile turns enigmatic.

She stares at him. "Wait, wait, wait—what dog? And what other stuff?"

Booth shoots her an I am so glad you asked look and says with a blinding grin, "Stuff like this."

And he spins Brennan around, dips her down low, and plants a hot, hot kiss on her.

Angela's jaw hits the ground. Her eyes fly open wide, and she can't do anything but stare dumbly at the sight. She's pretty sure she's not even breathing.

By the time Booth ends the kiss (and he takes his time about it, too) and the two of them straighten, Angela's still standing as still as if she'd been nailed to the ground. Her eyes flicker over to her best friend, then to Booth, then back again to Brennan.

"That did not just…" she stammers weakly. "Did that just…? What just happened?"

Bren, her face flushed, laughs breathlessly and answers, "I thought you'd be happy about it. You've been wanting us to engage in a romantic relationship almost since Booth and I had our first case. Well, technically, it was our second case." She's obviously having a hard time keeping anything but a mile-wide smile plastered to her face.

"Yeah, thought you'd be happy," Booth chimes in, reaching down to clasp Brennan's hand. "I kissed Bones for your benefit, you know, Ange."

"My benefit?" she repeats, still in shock. "Okay, so…what's going on you guys?" A thought strikes her, and she breaks out in her own wry smile, planting a hand on her hip. "This is a joke, right? Oh, you guys make me so mad. Yeah, I admit it, you got me. Where are the cameras?"

Brennan gives her a very bewildered look, and Booth laughs aloud. "This is even better than I thought it'd be, Bones! If everyone else reacts like this, I'll bust a gut laughing."

"You can't rupture your stomach laughing, Booth," Brennan answers. "It's physiologically impossible."

Booth chuckles again and shakes his head before glancing back at Angela. He takes in the expression on her face—which is still shocked, still dryly amused, and just a tiny bit wondering if this is true—and grins widely. "She thinks we're lying."

"I don't see how," Brennan replies. "Everyone's always convinced we're in an intimate relationship, and when we're finally in one, they don't believe us. It's illogical."

"It's hysterical," Booth chortles. He digs his phone out of his pocket and angles it at the artist. "Hold that expression right there, Angela, I've got to get this."

The quiet click of the camera on his phone snaps her out of her daze, and she manages to string a few words together. "So…what's—what's going on?"

Bren glances up at Booth and smiles before looking back. "Well, Booth and I have decided to give a romantic relationship a try. It seemed like the right thing to do; everything we've done seems to be heading in this direction anyway."

"All roads lead to love," Booth says teasingly, tucking his phone away. He gives Brennan his patented look of affection and swings their held hands.

Angela shakes her head disbelievingly. No…no, they can't be together. It's too weird to think about. Even though she's been rooting for them none-too-subtly for years upon years, she's never actually thought of them getting together. She's thought all about it up to the point where they realize they're madly in love with each other, but she's never imagined…beyond. After. All this time, all these years of waiting and pushing, and…and it's happened? She doesn't have to push anymore?

She can't believe it.

"You guys are kidding me," she says with a laugh. "You can stop joking now since you've had your fun. And don't play something like that on me again, because—" She cuts off abruptly as a realization strikes her like a ton of bricks, and her jaw hits the ground for the second time.

Booth grins at her wide eyes and stage-whispers to Brennan, "I think she figured it out."

"Why are you whispering?" Brennan asks, her brow furrowing.

"You're wearing the same clothes you did yesterday," Angela breathes, her voice almost accusing. "The same red tie, the same dress shirt…" Her eyes dart down to his legs. "The same crazy socks. You never wear the same socks two days in a row. Unless…Holy crap, you never went home. You never went home. You were with Bren, and that means…You were telling the truth? You're telling the truth? You guys are together?"

"As together as together can be," Booth replies, beaming. "Knew you'd get there eventually."

"Oh my god!" Angela squeals, excitement and elation shooting through her. She leaps forward and grabs Brennan's free hand, a smile stretching her face so wide it hurts. "Oh my god, I thought this day would never come! Hallelujah!"

Both of them laugh and nod as she gushes over their newfound relationship. She seems almost more excited than Brennan herself, although Angela has known her for way, way too long—there's no way she could possibly miss the constant smile on the anthropologist's face, the way her blue eyes glow with a light Angela's never seen before. And she knows Bren's happy. Truly happy in a way Angela has always wished for her best friend.

"Wait until everyone hears about this," Angela enthuses, her eyes sparkling. She hasn't felt this alive in a long while. "This is so exciting! How did it happen? Where? When? Details, sweetie! I want to know everything!"

"It happened at Bones' apartment," Booth supplies.

"He got me a dog," Brennan adds. "It's cute."

"You're telling me the whole dog story later," Angela tells her, "but right now, I want to know how this—you two—happened. Don't leave out a second!"

"Well, Booth came over with some Thai," Brennan says. "He told me not to close the door because he had a surprise for me. He was gone for about…three minutes, I think? He came back with his hands behind his back, and told me to choose a name. Then he put the puppy in my hands—"

"Skip the dog part," Angela says in exasperation. "I want to hear about you guys! Did you sleep together?"

They exchange a look, and Angela nearly combusts with excitement. "You did!"

Booth shakes his head. "Technically, no."

"We slept in the same bed," Brennan explains, "but we didn't have sex. There was kissing and some intimate touching, and I know he wanted to do more because I could feel his—"

"Oh god," Booth groans, slapping his hands to his ears. "This is the part I get the hell out of here before Bones goes into detail about everything. I'm going to check on how the body transport's doing and get back to you guys later." He leans over to kiss Brennan quickly on the lips before waving to Angela and heading out.

"That's an image I can get used to," Angela says with a dreamy sigh, watching the FBI agent disappear from her office. "Him kissing you goodbye like that. You two are so sweet."

Brennan laughs and answers, "I admit, I can get used to it too."