So here's my attempt at a hiatus fic...

Brennan sat on the couch, sipping at her wine, her body twisted to watch Booth putter around in the kitchen; he insisted on making her a waffle sundae, something she was still unsure of even after he explained it to her. She tried to refuse, but in response, he had just shook his head and said, "It's breakfast and dessert, Bones. What could possibly be better than that?"

She took another big gulp of her drink and stood up, walking over to one of the large windows overlooking the front yard. It was starting to snow, a thin layer coating the grass already. Christine will be exciting when she wakes up in the morning if the warmer temperatures slated for tomorrow, according to the weather forecast, are false and it stays this cold. Lost in thought, she didn't notice Booth slide up behind her and place his hands on her hips, his body pressed against her back.

"Ooh, snow." His eyes lit up. "I hope it sticks." He paused. "C'mon, Bones. The waffles are piping hot. I even put some fresh raspberries and blueberries on it for ya. Now it's healthy."

"Adding fruit to something doesn't make it healthy, Booth. This dessert is still high in sugar, fat, and carbohydrates." She followed him over to the couch, picked up her fork, and just stared at the concoction he had set on the coffee table. She could barely make out the Belgian waffle on the bottom, as it was hidden below a mountain of whipped topping and melting ice cream. He had drizzled some chocolate syrup on it, as well, and added some rainbow sprinkles. There was a cherry on top and as he had mentioned, there were berries scattered around the edge of the plate. To her, it looked more like a mess than any dessert she'd ever seen.

"Well, are you going to take a bite? It's good, I promise. I mean, have I ever made something you didn't like?" He gave her a huge smile, his eyebrow raised.

She shrugged, poked at it with her fork, and sighed. She cut a small sliver of the waffle and made sure she had a good helping of the other toppings before tasting it. Surprisingly, it was delicious. She kept eating it until she couldn't stomach any more and pushed the plate away.

He finished the rest, put the dirty plate in the dishwasher, and returned to the living room. He plopped down beside her and draped his arm over her shoulder. He clinked the beer bottle against her now nearly empty wine glass and took a sip. He smirked at her. "Good, huh?"

"I must admit that it was better than I imagined it to be when you first mentioned it." She paused and groaned, resting her hand on her abdomen. "I ate too much."

His eyes were drawn to her stomach and he swallowed. He blinked, shaking his head to rid himself of the memories that suddenly popped up.

She leaned into his side and drank the remainder of her wine. "I believe I have what Angela refers to as a food baby."

He coughed, choking on his beer. "What? Baby?"

She tilted her head and stared at him. "Huh?"

"Uh, never mind. How about some music?" He got off the couch and grabbed the remote off the mantel. He pointed it at the stereo and skipped ahead a few tracks before he got to one that he liked and thought fit the mood of the evening. He lowered the volume a tad and walked over to her. He dropped the remote into his pocket and held out his hand. "Want to dance?"

She smiled at him and reached up, taking his hand without hesitation. She leaned down to put her glass on the coffee table and followed him to the spot in front of the bar where they'd have enough room to move around.

He snaked his arms around her back and closed his eyes, slowly swaying back and forth.

She snuggled into his neck and exhaled. She was relaxed; whether that was a side effect of the two glasses of wine she consumed, the soft music, or Booth's presence, it didn't matter. She felt him stiffen when "Baby, it's Cold Outside" came blasting out of the speakers. She leaned back and looked at him. "What's wrong?"

He shook his head. "Nothing," he said and quickly changed the song.

Not satisfied with his answer, she stepped out of his arms completely and snatched the remote from his hand. She clicked off the stereo and stared at him. "You seem distracted or uncomfortable and I don't understand why."

"I—." Deciding to pull off the band aid, he blurted out, "Let's have a baby."

She blinked, her eyebrows furrowing. "What?"

He took her hand and dragged her over to the couch. He sat down and pulled her down next to him. Keeping her hand in his, he rubbed his thumb over it and cleared his throat. "Let's have a baby," he repeated, his voice softer.

"You're serious?"

He nodded. "Yeah. I mean, Christine's almost five and we're not getting any younger. If we're gonna have another baby, we should do it sooner rather than later." He decided to appeal to her logical side first. "Don't you want another baby?"

She swallowed. "We've never discussed this before."

"Well, let's discuss it now." He paused, squeezing her hand. "I think it's the right time. Holding Sweets' son reminded me what it's like to hold such an innocent little life in your arms for the first time. And I saw the way you looked at him; you were in awe. Parker's and Christine's births were so different, but they were both so magical. Being a father, or a mother," he added, "there's nothing either of us will ever do that is as important as that." He sighed and when she didn't say anything right away, he said, "Say something. Please."

"I—."

"Before you shoot it down, just think it over, Bones. Sleep on it, talk to Angela, do whatever you have to do, but don't say no before you've had a chance to really think about what I'm asking here." He paused. "I know it seems like this came out of nowhere, but I've been thinking about this since Daisy gave birth."

She stared at him for the longest time before she let out a breath and allowed a small smile to creep onto her face. "Okay."

"Please, just think about this before you—wait, okay?"

She laughed, giggled, actually. "Yes. Let's have another baby."

His smile returned and his eyes got brighter. "Really?"

She nodded. "I want to have another baby," she said with more confidence.

"Yes!" He jumped up and did a little dance. If he wasn't so happy, he'd be embarrassed by his actions. "We're having another baby?"

"Well, I am not pregnant yet, Booth."

"But we're gonna try?"

She smirked. "Yes, and I've heard it's very fun—trying for a baby, I mean." She paused. "Would you like to start now?"

"Would I?" He laughed. "What kind of question is that, Bones? Of course I want to."

"Because it just so happens it's a very opportune time. I'm currently discussing alternative birth control methods with my gynecologist and therefore am not on any form of birth control. I was going to suggest you wear a condom when we make love until I come to a decision, but since we've decided to try and conceive, that won't be necessary." She paused. "I am also ovulating."

He groaned. "Stop talking."

"Booth, knowing my ovulation schedule is important if we're going to be trying for a child."

"Keep that stuff tucked away in that beautiful brain of yours." He tapped the middle of her forehead. "Having a baby is supposed to fun. Screw schedules and what not. If we make love x amount of times in a month, one of those times is bound to result in a baby. It doesn't matter when you're ovulating," he shuttered and emended his statement when she gave him a look that suggested he was an idiot for even thinking that, "Okay it does matter, but I don't need to know about it. We'll just continue what we're doing. I mean, it worked last time didn't it?"

She smiled. "Our judgment was impaired then."

"Just go with the flow, Bones."

She nodded. "Are we still going to have sex tonight? Because all this talk about making love has me very aroused and we shouldn't waste—."

He captured her lips with his, already working to unbutton her jeans. "Shut up," he muttered against her mouth, pulling her pants, attempting to get them off her hips.

She lifted herself off the couch and shimmied a little until he had gotten her jeans passed her knees. She relaxed again, tugging him closer. She dropped her hand from the nape of his neck and slid it down his back to the hem of his shirt. She moved her other hand from his thigh and pulled his shirt up over his head.

He separated from her to yank off his shirt and throw it to the side. He didn't take much time reestablishing contact; his lips were back on hers within a minute. He ran his hand over her upper body, groaning when she scooted forward and sat in his lap, her legs wrapped around his waist. "Bones," he mumbled, slipping his hand under her blouse, sighing as his fingertips touched her warm, bare skin. He paused for a brief second, his hand flat on her lower abdomen, before she snapped him back to reality by sucking hard on his bottom lip. It wasn't long before her shirt was gone too.

She tugged on his belt, unbuckling it. "Off," she ordered, pressing her chest against his as she deepened their kisses.

He nodded. "You gotta," he breathed out, "I need to—."

She sighed, scooting back and ripping off her own pants. She watched him the entire time, from when he stood up, to the moment his jeans fell to his ankles, to when he jumped back onto the couch, pinning her beneath his body.

He peppered her neck, chest, arms, and abdomen with feather-light kisses before he pressed his lips against hers once again. "We should move this party to the bedroom," he said, between kisses.

"Don't want to," she protested.

He nodded, the thought of moving didn't appeal to him much either. He reached behind her and popped the clasp of her bra. He pulled the under garment off and flung it, it landing on one of the lampshades. Not paying it any mind, he met her eyes and smiled.

"We're doing this? Trying for a baby?"

He silenced her with a kiss. "Shhh. We're not doing anything except making love," he whispered.

She moaned, the feeling of his thumb caressing her right breast very pleasing to her. After several minutes of mind-numbing touches and swipes of his tongue, she could barely think straight, but she was coherent enough to know they were far too covered up to do this properly. She lifted her shoulders off the couch and pushed herself out from under him. She hooked her thumbs in the waistband of his boxer briefs and met his eyes. She reached up, moving the pendant of his Saint Christopher medal to the back, and tipped her chin.

He nodded, getting off of her and removing the last of his clothing other than his striped sock that donned his feet. He sat on the edge and slowly slid her underwear down her legs, letting his fingers brush against her skin as he went.

She squirmed under his intense gaze and at the light caresses of her inner legs. She bit down on her bottom lip and curled her toes as one of his hands moved back upwards after discarding the cumbersome garment while the other slid through her hair.

Minutes and a few strangled moans (from both of them) later, he hovered above her, gazing down into her glazed over blue-grey eyes; it was so easy to get lost in them.

She cleared her throat, rubbing her hand over his cheek and lightly stubble-clad jaw. "Booth?"

He blinked and recaptured her lips with his. He lowered himself and closed his eyes, his words garbled against her mouth.

She shifted, hooking her legs around his waist once again and pulling him down farther. She bucked her hips and tilted her head, one hand on the back of his neck, the other dragging through his hair, tugging on it. "Now," she ordered in a breathy moan.

He nodded, obeying without protest. Their earlier conversation and their mutual decision to expand their family was forgotten. All that mattered in that moment was the two of them and their desire for one another.

Should I keep going?