A/N: Hello, everybody! This is the response to a challenge made by Lerdo to write a fic, drabble or poem inspired by the song "Every Little Thing She Does is Magic", by The Police. This is not a song-fic, only inspired by a song.

Thank you so much, Lerdo, for all the beta-work and for the encouraging!

Disclaimer: Don't own Bones.

The first time he asks her to marry him, it comes out of nowhere. It's spontaneous, free from logic or planning. It's like an epiphany of sorts.

They are waiting for the site to be cleared so she can do her "bone-thing," as he calls it. He feels something is wrong before anything happens, and at the first indication of danger, he pushes her to the ground as an explosion destroys the building that was once before them.

Her head is secured between his shoulder and neck, and her breath is hot against his skin as a reminder of what he could have lost if she had been inside that building. He leans back to see her face, and can't help himself.

"Marry me," he spouts before thinking and watches as he steals the breath the explosion could not. Her eyes widen as her jaw slackens.

She says no, right before checking him for any head injury.

The second time he asks, he's on top of her, showing her exactly how much he loves her, with his mouth, tongue and body. He pushes himself inside her just a little deeper, and in the heat of their passion, he's helpless against the words that fly out of his mouth.

"Marry me," he calls out as they ride the waves of their joined climax. He knows it's not appropriate the minute he hears the words pronounced. Her eyes are closed for those blissful minutes it takes for her to register the words, but when she does, he sees fire in her eyes.

He sleeps on the couch that night.

The third time he asks, he's on a trip to the desert on official FBI business. Something Brennan has nothing to do with, so he has no excuse to drag his beautiful partner/girlfriend along.

It's like the surface of Mercury by the time Booth calls her, and as he spills his frustration over the phone, she resolves his problems with only four simple words, a rational solution she thought of in the course of a second. He grins, knowing he'll be home three days earlier because his lover happens to be a genius.

His tongue trips him before he can help himself. "Marry me." An agent standing by his side gives him a funny look, and the sweat running down his forehead has nothing to do with the heat.

She's laughing on the other end of the line, telling him to get out of the sun and drink lots of fluid because the dehydration is making him delirious. He smiles, knowing that if she's laughing about this, maybe there is hope for him after all.

The fourth time he asks, she's approaching him carefully as he grips his bottle of rum a little bit tighter. He has a fair amount of alcohol in his bloodstream, but he can still make out every single curve of her face as she stands before him.

His eyes rest over the cut above her brow, as Booth is painfully aware that even though their jobs are too dangerous and that everyday something tragic could happen, it was a simple car accident that almost took her away from him. He can't protect her from everything, and he feels powerless against the inevitability of life and death.

He rests his head against her chest, listening to the steady beat of her heart. "I love you," he says, never more grateful for every time God protected him in the past. All so he could have this moment with her.

"I know," she whispers back, stroking his hair lovingly in a way he never believed she would do. It's strange to him, how intimate they've become.

"I wanna marry you," he whispers against the hollow between her breasts, a tear rolling down his face to her skin, and it's so intimate that he wants to sob against her.

"I know." She really does know, and somehow, he knows it's okay for her now. He knows she has come to accept this part of him, this side of him that wants to keep her around, next to him, for the rest of his life.

He wants to tell her everything he keeps inside, wants to tell her every little secret. He wants her- no, he needs her- to see just how much she means to him. Maybe someday, he'll say it. Someday, he'll show her exactly how she has enchanted his life.

The fifth time he asks, Booth has everything planned. They go to the most romantic restaurant in the city, the one he really can't afford, and they have a table for two and candlelight. A single red rose between them, and a violinist plays her favorite song.

Creativity gripped him before, and with the help of one of the waiters, he hides the diamond ring in her favorite dessert, knowing she wouldn't resist ordering it. Brennan doesn't resist, and he's so delighted by the sounds of appreciation she makes between every bite that he forgets about the ring.

She nearly chokes on it, her cheeks turning pink as she sucks in breath after breath. They only leave the restaurant after she gets him to swear he'll never hide jewelry in her food, ever again.

The sixth time he asks, he swears it'll be his last proposal. There's only so much rejection a guy can take. Even though he swore after Rebecca rejected him that he would be sure before ever popping the question again, he can't help it with Brennan. It's as if his heart takes control of his mouth, and his brain has no say in it.

They're walking along the Potomac River, the cherry blossoms falling softly around them. He managed to steal her away for a lunch break, and as he walks beside her, the urge returns, and the ring in his pocket is burning his skin.

They sit on a bench, and she's unusually quiet today, observing the fallen flowers and leaves. He's amazed by her, by her beauty, by her fire, her passion, her everything. Every single move she makes, every little thing she does, turns him on. Everything about her just makes him love her more.

Thunder breaks above them, and she's tugging on his sleeves, urging him on. "We have to go," she says, but he doesn't move. He only smiles as he tugs her to sit again. She complies for once, and he cups her face between his hands.

"I don't care," he says, bringing his lips to hers as the first drops of water hit them. It's her taste and her scent mixed with the rain, everything that drives him to that point in which, once again, he can't control his heart. He's overwhelmed by her, and powerless to stop himself.

"Marry me," he whispers against her wet lips, fighting against the urge to cover her lips again so she doesn't turn him down right this second. He cherishes the seconds before she answers. In that time, he likes to believe she'll say yes. His heart pounds inside his chest, matching the angry thunder above them.

She smiles back at him, her makeup ruined and her hair clinging to her neck as she snakes her arms around his neck. "Yes," she whispers against his ear, the sound so soft and sweet he doesn't believe it at first. But as she kisses him he can almost taste the word, the lingering sweetness of it on her tongue.

They are soaked, and the rain is only getting worse, but they don't seem to care as they are sharing a kiss under a cherry three. He understands now, that every rejection had its reasons. It was to bring them here, to this moment, where everything is perfect and feels right. A moment where everything is charmed, and it feels like magic.

A bit of a cotton-candy-like fic, but I hope you enjoyed it. Let me know what you think!