Title: What We Lost In the Fire

Rating: M / NC-17

Word Count: 5,764

Disclaimer: Bones is the property of Fox, Hart Hanson, and the actors who play them. No money was made from this story (sadly).

Summary: When Booth's apartment is lost in a fire, Brennan reminds him of what he has gained.

Author's Note: Spoilers up until Season 5, just after "Parts of the Sum of the Whole." Written for the Bones Gamblers' Anonymous fic-dump challenge, with this prompt: "Booth and Brennan sharing a bed for some reason that isn't completely convoluted, during which sexytiemz ensue." I hope this satisfied the requirement! :)

Again, this is un-beta'ed, so any mistakes with spelling, grammar, and overall logic are mine. Also, this is my first time writing smut, so please let me know if it works or if I should chuck it out the window.

It was only when they were a block away from his apartment that they noticed the smoke rising up the dark November sky. As Booth drove nearer, he noticed the DC fire department already parked outside his building, the bright red engines incongruous beside the sedans parked against the sidewalk. He and Brennan shared a look – That does not look good.

He parked the SUV at the curb and jogged over to the firefighters. Slipping underneath the cordon, he flashed his badge at the nearest fireman. "What's going on?"

"Fire at the liquor store, sir," said the young man, his face covered with sweat and soot. "All that alcohol lit up like a Molotov cocktail in May."

Booth groaned – not the best way to end a Friday night after a long day chasing after suspects and cooling his heels while he waited for cause of death. "Any chance this was deliberately done?"

"Nope." The fireman shook his head. "We caught the kid manning the shop." He waved his hand further down, where a red-headed teenager in a smock stood, his lanky arms wrapped around himself, shivering in the chilly winter air. "He was high on marijuana, and swears that he just popped 'round the back for a smoke, dropped the match into a puddle of gin, and whoosh! Whole place went up like the fourth of fuckin' July."

Booth nodded, his shoulders sagging. He could see the flames licking through the curtains of his windows – his home, fuck – and he knew that there was no way he could go up there now to save his things. He puffed up his cheeks, exhaled in frustration, and drew his trench coat tighter around him as he watched the firefighters attempt to combat the blaze before it spread to the adjoining building. Residents and bystanders stood out on the street, many in their pajamas and robes, gaping and pointing their fingers at the blaze that seemed to leap higher and higher despite the efforts of DC's finest.

He felt a small hand wiggle its way between his arms and wrap around his bicep. "Hey, Bones."

She took a deep breath. "We can't do anything right now, Booth," she said quietly, her blue eyes flickering in the firelight. "I'm certain the firemen are doing the best they can."

"Parker would be devastated," he said, not daring to look at her, thankful for the small warmth of her touch.

"Is your apartment insured for this kind of thing?"

"Technically, my landlord insured it, but yeah, I also signed up for insurance a few years back, when I moved into this unit. I'm not sure if it will cover everything though." She could hear the heartbreak in his voice.

Taking a deep breath, she tugged at him gently. "Come on, you can stay at my place until this breaks over. You have some clothes left over from the last undercover assignment we had, so it won't be a problem."

"'Until this blows over', Bones. You're getting your metaphors mixed up again." He gave her a hollow smile. "And it's okay, I don't want to intrude into your weekend; I'll just check into a hotel nearby and then come back in the morning."

Brennan rolled her eyes at his stubbornness. "No, I insist. This kind of experience can be difficult and I believe, as your friend, I can provide the company and comfort you require while you process this moment. Plus, I have your favorite Yuengling in the fridge, and it will all go to waste without anyone to finish it up."

He looked at her in askance. When did she start stocking up her fridge with things he liked? The mix of firelight and lamplight from the nearby electric street lamps danced in her hair, turning dark to light. For a moment, he felt his heart ease at the chance to spend the night at her place. Nodding slightly, he allowed her to lead him back to the SUV, opened the door to the driver's side for him in a strange change of roles, and then went to the opposite side to buckle herself in. "Come on, Booth," she said quietly. "Let's go home."

She efficiently led him to the couch and made him sit down while she puttered around, unwinding her scarf and draping it across the back of one of the arm chairs en route to the kitchen. He leaned back against the dark fabric, feeling like a child who had just been left behind by his parents at the side of the street. His fingers reached out to touch the woven rattan balls that were placed in a decorative pile on top of her coffee table. She had a much nicer place than his, definitely, but he noticed that they seemed to hang out more at his apartment lately. Well, until it was destroyed, anyway. He slumped back against the couch. He knew that, rationally (and when did he start thinking rationally, anyway?), he had enough to cover repairs and the purchase of new furniture. But what broke his heart were the memories in there: photos of Parker and Bones, the squint squad, mementoes, keepsakes from another life. Rebecca's ring was somewhere in the detritus of that apartment, and the necklace he was planning on giving Bones for Christmas, his favorite pair of socks –

Brennan pushed the amber bottle into his hand and sunk down the couch beside him, shoulders bumping against each other. "Are you all right?" she asked.

He sighed, running his thumb across the beer bottle label. "It's just... my entire life just went up in flames. Photos, Parker's drawings, my collections, everything that reminded me of who I am and what I've become, went away just like that." He snapped his fingers sharply, his callused thumb striking smartly across his fingertip.

She leaned against him, her weight warm and welcome. "In the system, you weren't allowed to have much. Only some clothes, textbooks, maybe a keepsake or two. I think that's why I've become efficient at packing, because I've learned how to stick to the essentials. Everything else is just ephemera."

"Even this?" He waved a hand across the living room. "Let's face it, Bones, you've got a lot of stuff. I'm pretty sure you'd freak out too if your place was on fire."

She shrugged. "I've lived in Sudan, in Nigeria, in Nepal with only the barest of essentials. I can let go of a lot of luxuries. Not to say that I don't indulge in them" – and she gave him an impish grin – "but I am perfectly able to compartmentalize my feelings towards inanimate objects, even though many of them are certainly valuable, both intrinsically and historically."

He loosened his tie and kicked off his shoes, and leaned against her shoulder, feeling the smooth slide of the Yuengling lager down his throat. If there was one upside to the evening, it was that he was spending it with the lovely Temperance Brennan, and damn if he didn't enjoy her company just a bit too much. He tried to slow down the thudding of his heart as he breathed in deeply and caught a whiff of her scent – something clean and flowery, like jasmine, and beneath it, a layer that was all Bones. He lifted his free arm and draped it on the back of the couch, his fingers grazing the edge of her sleeve. As though taking it as an invitation, she scooted over and leaned her head against his shoulder, her fingers plucking at the dark fabric of his slacks. Moving into dangerous territory over there, Bones.

"So, Bones," he said, more to keep his mind away from her fingers playing across his lap than anything else, "if there was a fire and you could only rescue three things from this apartment, what would it be?"

"You mean aside from myself, and any other living occupant in this place?"

"... is there anyone else here that I should be aware of?"

"Of course not. I am merely inquiring regarding the parameters of your hypothesis."

"Okay." He hoped she wasn't referring to any deep-sea welders or ex-boyfriends that she invited over on a regular basis for a good ol' round of fulfilling biological urges. His cock, sensing that his thoughts were currently going into familiar territory, gave a half-hearted twitch of hope. He glared at it, hoping that Bones wouldn't look up and see him making faces at parts of his anatomy. "Yes, excluding that."

She snuggled further against him, tucking her bare feet underneath her as she thought about his question. "Given that most of my important documents are either at the Jeffersonian or in a bank, and my bag is always with me anyway, I would say... my laptop, of course, and Jasper and Brainy Smurf."

He raised an inquisitive eyebrow, feeling the effects of the alcohol making his body more pliant and susceptible to her very real presence suddenly against him. "Seriously? You'd rather save a plastic pig and a cartoon character than any of your artifacts? Books? Expensive china?"

She looked up at him, her eyes wide and guileless. "Well, yes. They may not be museum pieces or expensive pieces of furniture, but I place their value much higher than anything else in this apartment. I can rebuild my library, if necessary, and most of the items here are replicas rather than the historical pieces themselves. Any other valuables are insured. So... yes, I'd have to go with those three."

Booth resisted the urge to kiss her right then and there; instead, he just pulled her close to him in a side hug. "Aw, Bones, I didn't know you cared so much," he said playfully.

She just gave him a small smile, like she was afraid that she had said too much too soon, and extricated herself from the couch. "Why don't you finish your beer first, while I make up the guest room? The couch will not be good for your back."

He nodded thoughtfully, feeling the warmth leave the room as she walked away.

There was only a wall that separated them. He could hear her getting ready for bed – the sound of drawers opening and closing, the rush of water from the tap, her footsteps padding to and from the master bathroom to the bedroom. She had given him a stack of clean towels, ushered him towards the guest bathroom, and told him to enjoy a long soak (she said he smelled of smoke and beer; not a good combination when you're at the house of the woman you love). When he came back to the guest bedroom, he saw that she had laid out one of his gray sweatpants and a folded black FBI shirt on the navy blue covers. (So that's where it went.) Peering into the closet, he saw that she had hung up his suit jacket and slacks, his gun holster and badge carefully placed on the shelf underneath the wardrobe rack. His shoes were placed side by side near the door. He felt a rush of warmth for this woman – and for the first time that night, he didn't worry about the fire in his apartment, or the fact that he had pretty much lost everything he had. For the first time in a very long time, Seeley Booth felt that someone had taken care of him.

Now he was lying on top of fresh sheets, the soft cotton duvet pushed down to the foot of the bed. He usually slept in boxers, but he felt like he should cover up for Bones; didn't want to let her get a second shot at seeing everything all at once (unless, of course, she was the one doing the undressing). He heard her turn down the sheets, heard the flick of the switch, and knew that she had sailed off into slumber land.

But he was still awake, floating somewhere between sleep and waking, and he figured a quick round of jerking off was just the perfect thing to send him to sleep as well. He popped open the bedside table drawer and noticed a small bottle of hotel lotion that she had left there, perhaps for the occasional guest. Well, he wasn't going to deny himself the use of lubricant; he squirted a small amount into the palm of his hand, eased his sweatpants down, and freed his penis. He closed his eyes, searching his imagination for the perfect fantasy –

Bones walked towards him in the half-dark, her movements lithe and limber as she slid into bed beside him, her breasts moving freely beneath the cotton pajama top that she wore. The hem barely brushed the tops of her thighs, the pale length of her legs stretching on and on like a long and winding road he wouldn't mind following. Her lips were pink and plump, her tongue snaking out as she licked his lips, ready to devour him. Her hair, almost black in the near-darkness, brushed his face as she bent down and kissed him, her tongue dueling with his for dominance. She tasted of mint toothpaste and woman, all woman. She swung a leg over him, straddling his erection. His hands slipped beneath her top, his fingers exploring the contours of her hips, her stomach, her breasts, his thumbs and forefingers caressing her nipples as she lowered her wet core down on to his straining cock . He thrust upwards as she tightened her muscles around him, pumping him, her nails scraping across his chest, his abdomen, her lips attacking his as though they were simply the most delicious thing she'd ever tasted. He gripped her hips, pushing her down on him, his balls buried deeply into her soft, sinful flesh. He could already feel the tug of release, and he drove into her harder, faster, watching her spin into her own climax –

There was a crack, like lightning, like wood splintering.

"Booth? Is everything all right?"

Suddenly, the bedroom lights came on and Bones, tousled and sleepy, stood in the doorway, her hand on the light switch. Her blue eyes widened as she took in what was going on. One of the legs on the bed had broken, and the entire bed was tipping dangerous to one side. Booth, who seemed to be in the middle of a masturbatory activity, was now hanging awkwardly somewhere between the bed and the floor. He gave her an embarrassed smile as he carefully (painfully) tucked his erection back into his pants and surreptitiously wiped the excess lotion on the legs of his sweatpants. "Uh, yeah, I'll pay for that," he managed to say, trying to control his voice.

She bit her bottom lip to keep from laughing. He was too embarrassed already as it is; she was there to comfort him, not to laugh at him. "I... thought I heard you call me. And then there was that crack, and – " She turned her face away from him so he wouldn't see her laughing.

He shuffled around, and made a move for the door, grabbing a pillow to hide what seemed to be a rather persistent erection. "I'll just head on to the couch, Bones. And I'm really sorry about the bed."

Brennan schooled her face into a more serious expression. "Booth, your back will not be able to take the couch. We both know that. I will take the couch, and you can take the bed." Her eyes gleamed in amusement. "I assure you it is much sturdier than this one."

He reddened at her words. "I don't want to put you out, Bones. I already wrecked your bed."

She stepped closer to him. Without makeup, she looked much younger, much more vulnerable. She was wearing an oversized cotton shirt and boy shorts, and her feet were bare. "Look, Booth, you're the one who had a bad night. And I understand the need for self-pleasure; I do it all the time as a stress reliever as well."

He groaned. "Bones, I don't want to know. Too much information."

"Well, we're both adults now, Booth, and I'd hate to think that my initial assessment of you as a skillful lover with strong biological urges was wrong. At any rate, you should be on a bed, whichever activity you wish to engage in, and I will take the couch."

"No. I can't sleep on your bed knowing that you're outside. This is your house, Bones. I'm not kicking you out." Plus, he might have a raging hard-on the entire night, sleeping in her bed, where everything smelled like her.

"Fine, then we will share the bed."

"I'm sorry, what?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "We'll share the bed, Booth. It's not like it's our first time."

His mind went blank – Las Vegas was a totally different ball game (he had at least one cold shower before going to bed, and made sure there was plenty of space for the Holy Spirit and a couple of his angel friends between him and Bones), and the circus trailer was an exercise in discipline and self-restraint, especially when Bones simply did not have any hang-ups when it came to her body and more than once, he saw more flashes of flesh than he was ever comfortable with while they were changing costumes. But now? Share her bed? In her apartment? His cock, which had started to wilt, stood right back up at attention again. What the fuck, indeed.

But she was already moving towards her bedroom, and he could either freeze his ass off in the hallway or follow her. He figured he was going to hell in a hand basket anyway, so he trotted obediently after her, pressing the pillow against his midsection to hide his erection.

Slivers of moonlight sliced against the darkness of the room. He could hear her breathing evenly; her back was towards him, her leg thrown over a bolster, her hair spread across the pillows like tendrils, or soft waves lapping across the shore. He wanted to twirl a lock of her hair around his finger, run his hands through the mass of curls, feel her shift and groan underneath him. He lay on his back, arms to his side, as close as possible to the edge of the bed without falling off. He didn't dare continue with his previous activities – he didn't want to wreck this bed, too. He realized a trip to Ikea was coming, and he definitely was not looking forward to it.

"Booth?" Her sleepy voice drifted in the silence of the room.

"Yeah?"

"Is there any reason why you are sleeping so far away?"

Busted. "I... uh, I thought you needed space."

"Why?"

"Because – " Because if I were any closer to you, we'd both burst into flames.

"I understand that you may be feeling sad regarding tonight's events, and I just want to provide you with some comfort."

He suddenly felt all the air leave his lungs in one go. "What do you mean?"

"A hug, Booth." He could almost hear her smile in the darkness. "You give me guy hugs when I'm sad or despondent, and now is the time for me to reciprocate your actions."

"Oh."

"Don't make me come over there, mister," she said amusedly. He felt the mattress dip as she scooted over, effectively closing the distance between them. A warm arm slid across his chest, and he felt her cheek pillowed against his shoulder. "You smell nice," she whispered happily, cuddling against him. He counted to sixty, attempting to get his body back into control. He needed a distraction.

"Um, Bones?"

"Yes?"

"Why would you choose Jasper and Brainy Smurf?"

Silence. And then: "Because you gave them to me."

He felt like he couldn't breath. Could it be? Booth turned to his side, so that they were nose to nose against each other, arms and legs tangled together. He knew she could feel his erection, but instead of moving away, she pressed her body against him deliberately; he bit back a moan. "Bones..."

Her eyes were cobalt orbs in the dark, shimmering with unshed tears. "I'm thankful today you were not in your apartment when the fire broke out. I'm thankful that you dragged me out for dinner even though all I wanted was to stay at home, nurse a bottle of wine, and ask myself again and again why I turned you down. I'm thankful you weren't hurt, and I'm hurt that you lost everything you owned. And for some inexplicable reason, I want to make you feel better, and I want to make you stop hurting. Is it wrong for me to feel this way? I know I'm your partner and your friend, and I know that – "

He reached out and pulled her closer, rubbing circles up and down her back soothingly. "It's okay, Bones, it's going to be okay."

She tucked her head underneath his chin, and he was assaulted by the nearness of her body, fitting seamlessly into his space. "I don't want to lose you, Booth. I don't know what I would do if..."

"Shh, it's okay Bones, it's okay."

"You lost everything, Booth, it's not okay."

Now or never. Stop being a wimp. "I have everything I need right here, Bones. Right here beside me."

He felt her body stiffen, and for a moment, he thought that he had driven her away. Again. He could almost hear the whirrs and clicks of the gears in her head as her brain processed this information. And then he felt her hand slip under his shirt, caress the bare skin of his back. "Bones, is this...?"

"Yes," she whispered, just as she raised her face and her lips captured his in a searing kiss.

Booth never understood the idea of being consumed by another person, but right now, kissing and being kissed by Temperance Brennan was certainly enough to set even the coldest cadaver on fire. His hands blazed a trail across her skin, sliding beneath her top and tracing the curves and valleys of her body. Her teeth nipped his lips, her tongue sliding inside his mouth, and he drank her every flavor, gratefully accepting every drop.

She tugged his shirt off, her hands roaming his chest and abdomen, tracing the definition of his pectorals, the shallow ridges of his spine. "You're wearing too many clothes, Bones," he growled, wanting to taste her skin.

She sat up and shucked her shirt off, and then gave him a coy smile. Her skin was luminous in the half-light, pale and shadowed, her breasts a study in perfection. He reached out and cupped one globe, relishing the heft and weight in his hands, the soft skin that was begging to be kissed. He pulled himself up, balancing himself on one elbow, and them leaned in to taste her nipples. His lips encompassed the dusky pink areola, his tongue tracing his name on her skin. She moaned and tugged him closer, her hands twining into his hair. Fuck, we're going to burn up, and tomorrow they'll just find our ashes on the bed and nobody will figure out who's who.

He kissed his way down the valley of her breasts, his hands running up and down her back. She slipped downwards, as if unable to take her own weight, and laid languorously on the sheets, her cheeks pink and warm with exertion. He moved on top of her, his hands on her sides, supporting him as he leaned down for a kiss.

When they surfaced for air, he looked down at her. "What are we doing?" he asked quietly.

She looked at him. "We're trying to break the laws of physics," she whispered truthfully.

"Why?"

"Because you are the only person I would ever want to break any law, scientific or otherwise, with."

For some reason, her words went straight to his groin. His hands went to her hips, skimmed the edge of the shorts she had worn going to bed. She made quick work of shoving his sweatpants downwards, and he kicked them off, hearing them land on the floor with a soft thud. She was already wet and waiting, he discovered as his right hand slipped between her legs, feeling the cotton fabric damp with her own arousal. "Fuck, Bones, you're wet."

"It happens a lot when you're around."

He filed that one for another conversation (one they would have very, very soon) and instead dipped a questing finger into her warm core. She was already ready for him, and he could smell her need for him. She was keening softly, her hands attempting to tug him upwards. He pressed his erection against her thigh, wanting to let her know what she was doing to him as well, and slowly pulled her shorts down her mile-long legs. She was trimmed and neat underneath, and his hand covered her pubic mound as his fingers slid downwards, his thumb finding her clit, slick and slippery. Experimentally, he pushed a finger inside her, pressing the heel of his palm against her clit. She bucked underneath him, her hips pistoning upwards as though she was a ship caught in the middle of a storm. She was panting in his ear, babbling about wanting and needing and oh God, please please please Seeley please...

It was his name that was her undoing. He slipped another finger inside her, relishing the way her walls contracted around him. He found the rough patch of skin against her inner walls, and rubbed the pads of his fingers against that spot, feeling her writhe and groan uncontrollably underneath him. He maintained the rhythm, speeding up as he felt her prepare for her climax. She had her arms around his neck, her body responding to his touch, and his touch alone. He bent his head down, allowing her to scrape her nails down his back as he swirled his tongue around one taunt nipple. She moaned his name, arms and legs gripping him as she rode out her orgasm, her body sweating despite the central air-conditioning.

Booth let her come down from her high before slipping his fingers out from her. Her eyes glittered as she watched him take his fingers into his mouth, relishing the taste of her. "I think I'm addicted, baby," he whispered as he moved between her legs, the head of his cock rubbing against her soaking cunt. "Are you safe?" he asked.

She nodded. "I've been on birth control since I was eighteen, but..."

"Yeah?"

"I want you to be the first one to enter me bare."

If it was entirely possible for his erection to simply explode and take his soul with it, it would have had at her words. At the state he was in, he was pretty sure he would pass out already if he didn't enter her right this instant. But he leaned his forehead against hers for a moment. "I'm yours, Bones, you know that right? If we do this, that means I'm never letting you go."

She smiled at him. "I know, Booth. I know." Her nimble fingers grasped his cock and carefully guided it into her warmth.

For a second (or was it an entire lifetime?), they stayed there, frozen in place, joined as one. Brennan had never felt anyone fill her up the way he did; he was just the right length to hit all of her pleasure spots, just the right thickness to make her feel full and sated without being stretched to the breaking point, and when he started to move those hips in that goddamn motion that was so goddamn Booth-y, all she could see were stars twinkling overhead. She crossed her ankles behind his ass, thankful for the years of yoga, and goaded him to move quicker, faster, harder.

But he kept his control. (Five years of being cockblocked and denying his emotions could teach a man some semblance of control.) He kept her at a steady pace, grasping one of her ankles and hooking it over his shoulder so that he could drive into her deeper. Her hands were gripping the headboard, her head thrown back in pleasure. His hand cradled the back of her head, making sure that she didn't hurt herself as he pushed himself deeper and deeper until he wasn't sure anymore where he ended and she began –

And then, he felt that slow, delicious climb towards an orgasm. "Come with me, baby," he whispered, his voice ragged.

"Oh my God," she cried out just as her hips shot upwards and she was taken high, high, higher than a kite on a windy day at the park, just as he slammed into her, his orgasm exploding like a blazing fire that leapt higher and higher, fueled by the flames of their entwined desires. He collapsed, exhausted, on top of her, and she relished his warm weight, his back coated with a thin sheen of sweat.

He rolled off her, and gathered her in his arms. "'Seeley' is just fine, babe, if you want to scream out my name."

She weakly swatted at him, but was content to drowse in his arms. "Don't call me 'babe'."

He chuckled as they drifted off into sleep. "Okay, babe."

Booth awoke to the acrid smell of smoke in the air. Fearing the worst, he tumbled out of bed, grabbed his sweatpants, and rushed out the hallway only to find a rather disheveled Bones holding out a plate of burnt pancakes towards him and a slightly disappointed look on her face. "I seem to have misjudged the temperature for pancakes," she said apologetically. "I could throw them away and start a fresh batch."

In three steps, he was in front of her and had swept her up in his arms, burnt pancakes and all. "Bones," he said, "when did you even learn how to cook pancakes?"

She gave him a shy grin. "I woke up early to research on the Internet."

He gave her the patented charm smile as he removed the plate from her hands and bent down to give her a good morning kiss. She parted her lips willingly, brushing her tongue across the surface of his teeth before dueling with his tongue. He moaned appreciatively. "That was the best good morning ever, Bones."

She was the first to draw away and he followed her into the kitchen, where she handed him a cup of coffee and leaned over the counter as he took his first swig of caffeine. Brennan watched him over the rim of her coffee cup, her eyes appraising the natural strength in his arms, the chiseled torso and back that tapered down to a slender waist. She wondered when it started feeling natural for them to be half-naked in her kitchen, drinking coffee and watching each other. He caught her gaze and grinned. "Like what you see, Bones?"

She laughed. "What do you want to do today?"

"I thought I'd head over to my apartment, see if there's anything I can salvage. Have to call my landlord too, and discuss how renovations will go. And then I need to look for a temporary place to stay – "

"How about staying here?" she asked quietly, putting her coffee cup down.

He gave her a curious look. "I was thinking of taking it slow, Bones. I mean, you and me... I'm not even sure what it means now."

She nibbled at her bottom lip, not sure how to proceed. "I think... last night was necessary to re-evaluate our relationship. I am already aware of how you feel about me. And while I know you said you'd be moving on, I realized that as soon as you said that that a part of me was... unhappy with the concept, even though I concede that the reasons behind it were logical and rational.

"But the more I considered, the more I realize that change is necessary for any organism to survive. One must learn to adapt when the situation arises. And I think that even though we are the center, we have to adapt and change and grow if we are to remain steady. We must be able to hold. And in order to hold, certain things need to... evolve."

He considered her words. "Are you saying...?"

"... that I believe my earlier hypothesis was wrong? Yes. As a scientist, I recognize change. I was simply bringing in my personal fears to the fore, my unwillingness to change was a by-product of not wanting to get hurt. I know that now. And I know that you have given me enough empirical evidence as well that you will not hurt me, and that you will always be there for me. And I recognize that. And I realize that last night simply gave us an opportunity in order to begin the process of change." She looked up at him, her eyes pale in the morning sunlight, her hands shaking nervously.

Booth gave her a big grin, and opened his arms wide. "C'mere, Bones."

She felt herself enveloped in his warmth, in his strength. Even though he was the one who had lost everything in the fire, she felt safe and sheltered in his arms. For the first time in her life, she was not afraid.

He stroked her hair, breathing in her scent, wanting to laugh and cry at the same time. Who knew that when he lost everything, he stood to gain so much more? In a weird sort of way, losing his apartment led him straight here. He pulled her closer to him, thankful that all roads still led back to her. So this is what home feels like.

A/N: Comments? Violent reactions? Squeals of happiness? (I hope) Send them my way!