It was over. Their team had finally found a way to clear Brennan. Booth had never felt so relieved to know she was no longer in danger. He only hoped that she and Max had been paying attention to the news that day. It'd been four long months without his partner and their daughter and he didn't want to spend another minute alone.

When he managed to sleep, he slept on the couch or in the guest room. The thought of being in their bed without her beside him was too much to handle. Their house had felt so empty and cold without them that he avoided being there as much as possible. No laughter, no bickering, no one to hold – just silence or the constant lull of the flat screen TV . . . She'd told him she didn't understand his fascination with it, but every once in a while he'd find her watching a documentary on the National Geographic channel or a rerun of the "Jersey Shore".

He missed her snuggling beside him on the couch asking questions about hockey, talking about their day, or just writing the latest chapter for her next book . . . He missed making dinner with her or for her after work . . . the way she blew his mind and frustrated the hell out of him almost every day with her literal and scientific views on life . . . fighting over the covers in bed . . . the way they fell asleep apart, but somehow ended up tangled up in each other by morning . . . the way her lips felt and tasted against his . . . the way his heart still skipped a beat every time she walked in a room. He missed attempting to defy the laws of physics with her and how close they came every time . . .

And their daughter - Christine was proof of their undeniable love for each other and the best thing that had happened to him in a long time . . . She was the perfect combination of the two of them – Brennan's eyes . . . his chin . . . He missed her smile, her winks, and her happy cooing . . . listening to Brennan singing her lullabies . . . how she cried whenever he tried to sing to her, but loved when he rocked her to sleep . . . slow-dancing with her and Brennan in the middle of the night – sometimes it was the only thing that calmed her down.

He missed . . . everything.

After accepting that he hadn't known Brennan would run, a lot of people assumed he'd be angry . . . for leaving him and their life together . . . for taking their infant daughter with her . . . but he wasn't. Obviously, he was frustrated and heartbroken. Hell, he'd wanted so badly to beat the shit out of Max for encouraging her to do it. But after the initial shock had worn off, he knew she'd made the right choice – the only choice to keep their family safe. Max was right – he hated it, but it was true. He had to stay in the system in order to prove Brennan's innocence, and she had to stay out of it in order to stay alive. Knowing the line they were crossing when it came to the law kept him up at night. He was FBI . . . proud of his country . . . respected its rules . . . Only when it came to his family, he realized that there was nothing he wouldn't do to protect them. They were his life. Brennan, Christine, and Parker were his life and he would sacrifice everything if it meant saving them from pain.

Fortunately, Parker was back in Europe for the summer. Rebecca's company was sending her to Paris, Rome, and Milan, attempting to close some major deals for their branches. Booth had a feeling Pelant wouldn't get to either of them there. So regardless of how much he missed his son, at least he was safe and unaffected by the recent events.

He wondered how much his daughter had grown and all the things he'd missed within those months. Watching her learn to turn herself over to one side or the other . . . start to crawl . . . sit up on her own . . . He'd missed so many things with Parker when he was a baby and he and Rebecca weren't on good terms. But he thought this time would be different. This time, he wouldn't miss anything at all. He and Brennan were crazy in love . . . they had a new home of their own . . . a beautiful baby daughter . . . and planned on spending the rest of their lives together . . . everything was perfect. Only he knew he had missed out on those moments – time with his daughter and time with the love of his life. It wasn't Brennan's fault. He knew she would never keep him from his child if she didn't have to. She'd told him multiple times what a good father he was. He didn't blame her at all – Pelant did this. That sick bastard framed his partner and stole her and his daughter away from him. He made his life and the lives of his family and friends a living hell. And Booth vowed to make him pay . . .

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard someone entering the house. He immediately retrieved his gun from the end table and carefully went into the foyer to find a slender, bleach-blonde woman with a purple streak in her hair dressed in an off-the-shoulder black and white striped cotton dress, black fishnets, and five inch over-the-knee stiletto boots. Tattoos covered her arms. She was bending over to pick up something, her back turned to him.

"Turn around and don't move," Booth commanded, cocking his gun. But the minute he did, he realized the woman wasn't an intruder at all.

She stood up and turned to face him, a child in her arms – his child, their child.

"Booth," she said, a tear trickling down her cheek.

He immediately dropped the gun and approached them, wrapping his arms around them as tight as he could without doing harm. He kissed his partner passionately on the lips as no words could express what he was feeling at that moment. A flood of tears pooled over in his eyes as he felt his daughter's hand reach out and touch his face. He took her tiny dimpled hand and kissed it.

"Bones," he managed, still in shock. "You're home."

"Yes. I-I wasn't sure how you'd react to my return. I only thought it was best that Christine see her father again – that you see Christine. You deserve that," Brennan said, handing Christine over to him as they broke apart.

"Hey, princess, it's your daddy. I missed you so much . . . look how big you've gotten," he kissed her cheek and gazed at her in awe.

"She now weighs approximately 8 kilograms and is 89 centimeters long. I am certain she is in the top of her percentile. Some of her basic motor skills have started to develop . . . I would have created some videos for you – I know how important those moments are to you – but I believed that they could have been perceived as evidence if discovered on your phone and Dad advised me to use disposable phones. Every three days - new phone, new place -" she rambled.

"Bones, it's okay. You don't have to explain anything – except maybe that outfit . . ." he teased.

Brennan smiled.

"I was working backstage at the Schottenstein's Center in Columbus - I thought it best to blend in with the environment of the bands playing there," she replied.

"Are those real?" he asked, pointing to the tattoos.

Brennan slid sheer nylon material off of her arms.

"Of course not. They're tattoo sleeves," she answered.

"Oh. Wow, you thought of everything, didn't ya?" he said, thinking back to the times they had gone undercover together.

"I didn't care about changing. When I got the signal from Dad, all I could think about was coming home . . . coming back to you," Brennan admitted.

"Bones -" he began.

"But I understand if you do not want me here. I can stay with my father and leave you to spend time with our daughter -" she said.

"No - Bones, stay. I meant what I told Max – that I'd get my family back. You're my family, my partner – always," he assured her.

"I hurt you, Booth – emotionally speaking. You have every right to be upset with me. I made a life-altering decision without discussing it with you first," Brennan told him.

"You were protecting our family – the only person I'm pissed at is Pelant. You did the right thing, Bones – no matter how hard it was on all of us, you did the right thing. Come here," he reassured her with a brief but loving kiss then pulling them all into another embrace. "We should get Christine to bed . . . get some sleep ourselves . . . we can talk more in the morning."

"Okay," she agreed as they went up the stairs. "Would you like to get her to sleep? I'd like to take a shower, if that's alright with you?"

"It's definitely okay," he smiled, eagerly accepting the time with his daughter.

Brennan smiled and went into their bedroom.

Booth walked into the nursery and leafed through the CDs he used to play for Christine when she began to cry.

"Hey, how about some Foreigner, huh? Mommy and Daddy's favorite song is on here . . . Toad the Wet Sprocket? No? What about Poco?" he tried to calm her down. "Shh . . . Daddy loves you . . . it's gonna be okay. I know you haven't seen me in a while, but you know me, right? You know you're still my sweet princess. I would never be away from you if I didn't have to . . . Can't ya gimme a little wink? No?"

Christine continued to wail despite him checking her diaper, getting her a bottle, rocking her, making silly sounds on her cheeks and tummy, and dancing with her to music. Nothing he did seemed to help. He finally gave up and went in search of Brennan.

"Bones, she won't stop cryin'!" he yelled down the hall as he headed for their bedroom.

Brennan hurriedly came out in just her robe, her hair still soaking wet.

"What's wrong? Does she need her diaper changed? Is she developing an ear infection?" she asked.

Only the minute Christine saw her mother, she reached out her arms for her and was silent and happy again.

Booth's heart sunk. His own daughter didn't know him anymore.

"I'm uh, I'm gonna go downstairs and get some water – you want anything?" he excused.

"Booth, I can tell you are upset," she said.

"I'm fine, Bones. Really," he insisted, trying to leave again.

"You're not fine, Booth," Brennan argued. "Children - especially infants and toddlers - can develop strong attachments to one parent or another when depending on one of them for an inordinate period of time."

Booth nodded, disappointedly.

"I talked about you every day and every night before she went to sleep. I told her stories about you and us . . . I had no pictures – I couldn't -" she said, desperate to make things right for him.

"I know, Bones. I know. It was too risky. You did what you could. Don't worry about it - we'll get through this. You're home, now - the hard part's over," he assured her.

"I should put her in her crib," Brennan said, looking at Christine rub her eyes.

Booth kissed his baby girl goodnight.

Ten minutes later, Brennan returned to their bedroom.

"Perhaps you should take her to the aquarium tomorrow. It will give both of you time to bond," she suggested.

"It's a start . . . Some daddy-daughter time – I'd like that," Booth grinned, then wrapped his arms around her waist. "Some mommy-daddy time would be nice, too."

Brennan smiled, coyly.

"I think that can be arranged, as well," she replied, running her hands over his chest. "If you're certain it's what you want."

"Positive," he insisted. "I've missed you so much I thought I would die. The only thing that kept me going was knowing there was a chance I could bring you back . . . You're the only woman I'll ever want, Bones."

She half-smiled, holding back tears.

"I'm so sorry I hurt you emotionally. If there had been any other option -" she apologized.

"Don't – don't apologize, Bones. None of this was your fault, okay?" Booth reassured her.

"I meant what I said before I left, Booth. I hope you didn't think otherwise," Brennan replied.

"I knew, Bones. I've known for a long time," he admitted. "But it was nice to hear you say it."

Brennan kissed him earnestly.

"Now I'm going to prove it," she vowed, kissing him again as she pushed his shirt up then over his head.

"I missed you so much, baby," Booth confessed, untying her robe and letting it pool to the floor before leading her to their bed.

Brennan kissed her way down his chest as she massaged his body with her delicate hands, stopping at the end of his abdominal muscles to push his boxers down. She feverishly captured his mouth again, grasping the hair at the nape of his neck, and pulled him on the bed with her.

"You're so beautiful," he said, tracing her lines and beginning to kiss every inch of her body.

"Even my peroxide-bleached purple hair?" she laughed.

"I wouldn't care if you came home with a mohawk. You're here – that's all I care about," he assured her.

"In that case, perhaps I will get one at my next appointment at the salon," she teased.

They both collapsed into a fit of hysterical laughter until Brennan's laughter became sullen.

"Hey. Are you crying?" Booth asked, brushing the hair back from her eyes.

"I-I realize it's irrational, and I know you don't blame me and that Pelant ultimately caused our separation, but yes. I feel I am partially at fault," she admitted.

"I get it. You feel like movin' on and bein' happy is selfish and not right. But trust me, Bones, it's the best thing you can do for our family. We need to start fresh . . . put our lives back together and take down that son of a bitch so he never hurts any of us again," he told her. "Right?"

She nodded, reluctantly.

Booth tenderly kissed away her tears.

"We're okay – didn't I promise ya that?" he smiled.

Brennan fought smiling back but couldn't help it. She pulled him close and didn't let go for a long time.

"Booth?" she finally broke the silence.

"Yeah, Bones," he answered, gently running his fingers along her arm.

"I don't just love you – I have only ever loved you . . . I've never allowed myself to get close enough to anyone else," she confessed. "Leaving you and taking our daughter was the most difficult decision I have ever had to make."

"I know . . . But you never have to go through that again – ever. I promise. No one will come between us like that again," he swore.

"You don't know that, Booth. You can't predict what happens in our future," Brennan reasoned.

"It won't," he insisted, kissing her soundly.

She reciprocated, parting his lips with her tongue, straddling on top of him as they began to make love for the first time in months.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Booth woke up the next morning happier than he could remember and a little confused. He opened his eyes to find Brennan contentedly staring at him - studying him, actually.

"Am I one of your Squint specimens or somethin'?" he teased.

"Of course not. I merely find re-observing your physique and the method in which you sleep to be quite soothing," she admitted.

Booth chuckled and propped himself up with his elbow.

"You know I missed waking up beside you, too," he told her. "And it feels good to be in a comfortable bed again."

"Why wouldn't you have been sleeping in a comfortable bed all along?" she asked.

"I couldn't stay here . . . I couldn't sleep in this bed – our bed – without you in it," Booth confessed.

"That's very illogical, Booth. You have problems with your back. And every morning, despite how comfortable the mattress you had lain on was, you release an excessive amount of synovial gas," she said. "Why would you compromise your health?"

"Because I couldn't take the emotional toll, okay? We haven't slept apart since before that first night we were together . . . It wasn't right," he told her.

Brennan gave him a look of love.

"I found that I, too, have grown accustomed to sharing a bed with you . . . knowing you are beside me when I go to sleep, and feeling your muscular arms around me in the morning is very comforting," she admitted. "I'm glad to have that back again."

"Me, too, baby," he kissed her softly. "I hated knowing I couldn't be the one to protect you and Christine – not knowing where you were, whether you were okay."

"I know, Booth. I can only imagine what our leaving did to you on an emotional level. But we're okay," she told him.

"You have no idea how grateful I am for that," he told her. "You're my life, Bones."

Brennan tenderly kissed his lips, cheek, and shoulder, then rested her head on his chest, absently weaving her fingers through his.

"You're mine, too, Booth," she eventually confessed. "I know I don't say it enough, but you are."

He smiled and enjoyed the warmth of her presence for a few more minutes.

"You hungry?" he asked after a while.

"Yes. Perhaps we can manage to eat something before Christine needs to be fed again?" she said, putting on her robe as she got out of bed.

"Go check on her. I'll call ya when it's ready," he told her and got up, sliding into his boxers.

"Booth . . .," she weakly protested, touched by his gesture.

"Go," he commanded, playfully smacking her ass.

As much as he loved having Brennan back in his arms, he wanted to make her breakfast, too – a real breakfast. He was sure she'd had nothing but greasy, unhealthy food while on the run. She needed to have a home-cooked meal again. He went downstairs and began to cut fresh fruit and start some French toast and one of his famous omelets when Brennan entered the kitchen.

"I think we should get married," she stated, matter-of-factly.

Booth nearly spit out his coffee.

"Huh?" he asked, bewildered.

"I've done a lot of thinking while I was gone and I believe it to be the most logical decision for the both of us," she replied, blithely reaching over him for a piece of cantaloupe. "Given that we have a child, plan to share the rest of our lives together, and you are in complete favor of the issue, along with the fact that it would prevent us from being forced to testify against one another in a court of law if another situation arises, I believe it would benefit us in all aspects."

"Married," he repeated.

"Yes. The legal and/or spiritual binding of two consenting adults who claim to love each other and wish to share their lives, possessions, and monetary statuses for an indefinite amount of time," she said.

"I know what it means, Bones," he grumbled. "I just – you're serious? You're really proposing?"

"Yes," she said. "Is that a problem?"

"NO! No, it's just ya kinda caught me off guard a little here," he excused.

"Isn't that what proposals typically do?" she asked.

"Well yeah, and usually they're a little more romantic, but – hold on, lemme just add something. Stay right there – don't move!" he commanded.

"It's physically impossible for me not to move, Booth. I have to breathe in order to stay alive," she argued.

"Bones," he groaned.

"Okay," she relented.

He ran upstairs and retrieved the small red box that he had purchased over a year ago, when they first became an official couple. It was crazy to do it so soon, but in a way, it wasn't. They had played a back and forth game of love for seven years at that point. He knew they weren't running from each other anymore. He went back down to the kitchen with the box behind his back.

"Ask me again," he requested.

"Booth . . ." she protested.

"C'mon, Bones. Just humor me," he begged.

Brennan sighed.

"Okay . . . Seeley Booth, will you agree to participate with me in the antiquated ceremony of marriage?" she proposed.

Booth couldn't help but grin with unconditional love. Brennan still needed some help when it came to being romantic. But it was a proposal nonetheless and he'd take it.

"Yes, Temperance Brennan, I would love nothing more," he answered, placing the elaborate white gold, three carat diamond ring on her left hand.

"Booth . . . it's beautiful. Thank you," she told him, gazing at the intricate setting in amazement and kissing him earnestly. "Have you been saving this for me for long?"

"Let's just say I knew you'd want to someday," he smiled, then suddenly had doubts of why she was doing this. Maybe she felt obligated to in order to make up for the time they had lost. "You do want this?"

"Of course I do," she assured him.

"Bones, you don't have to do this for me if you don't really want to," he said.

"It's for me, too, Booth," she insisted, taking his hand. "I love you, and after having to live without you the past four months, I came to the realization that I wish to prove to you and our family and friends precisely how much."

"You don't need to prove anything to me, Bones. Married or not, you'll always be my partner and I'll always love you," he told her.

"I know – but I want to . . . I want to be your wife," she confessed. "I realize I will technically be your common-law wife within the next year. However, I would like to have an official ceremony before then."

Booth held back tears hearing the words flow from her lips. Taking in the moment, he grinned and kissed her passionately.

"Why didn't ya just say that to begin with?" he sighed. "That was romantic."

"Because I assumed the need and desire to be married were implied," she said.

"You never make anything easy, do ya?" Booth teased.

"I thought I was very straightforward," she defended.

"Exactly," he replied.

"I don't understand?" she said, confused.

He sighed and shook his head in frustration.

"Never mind, Bones. Never mind," he said, kissing her fervently until Christine woke up and began to cry.