Lying in bed that evening, she stared at the ceiling not noticing the sigh she'd let escape—again. She was wide awake, much to her annoyance, and no matter what she tried, sleep would not come.

She was lying next to Booth who, judging by his deep and slow breathing, was fast asleep. Several inches away from her. Not touching her in any way.

She knew she couldn't be held responsible for what she did while sleeping, but she sometimes looked for him in the bed even though she would have never thought of doing such a thing if awake. Some mornings, she woke up with his arm around her. She knew couples were supposed to seek physical contact during sleep, but she didn't see the advantage in doing so. Ok, maybe she couldn't deny the comfort of his warmth on cold nights, but in hot nights like these? There was no reason to look for his touch.

That's why she wondered why she wished they were touching in some way.

Considering it a little experiment, she reached for his hand. She intertwined her fingers with his and let their hands rest there, not moving.

Nothing changed.

Ok, maybe her heartbeat sped up a bit. Mhh... yeah, maybe she felt a little better.

As if sensing her mood, he turned to his side and laid his free hand on her ribcage, right under her left breast. That way, they were almost hugging but not close enough to let the heat suffocate them.

Her heartbeat sped up a bit more. She felt... what would that feeling be called? Touched? Moved?

Leaving the literal meanings aside—which wouldn't make sense to her if she were trying to describe them—she thought maybe moved would work. He'd turned to her in his sleep, looking for a way to be in physical contact with her. If he were awake, she was sure he'd be able to feel her heart beating... but there was no way he'd know that while asleep.

The thought felt comforting, though.

What was happening to her? Since when did she have these... what would he call it... mushy feelings? Since when did she think of the words he would use?

And, though she wanted to cling to the trace of anger that had appeared within her, she couldn't stop the little—up to then silent —voice from whispering into her mind.

Why is that bad? Be honest. Why does that bother you?

Could she trust herself to answer those questions, even if she feared the result?

Yes. She could trust herself to do anything. She had to. If not for her and the need to know, she could always count on her strength, because she remembered how she'd felt while making love to Booth next to the jacuzzi a few hours before: she'd wished she was able to believe in them the way he did.

And the only way she could envision doing that was to allow herself to go deep into whatever was inside her.

So, why was that bad?

Simply because it seemed too symbiotic... which was too similar to dependence. That was what she didn't feel able to accept. Dependence.

Being dependent would be as close to a catastrophe as she could imagine. Being dependent would mean she was no longer able to live her life without him. It would mean she'd lost her freedom. Being dependent would mean he held the power to hurt her or make her happy as he wished.

Is that any different from the way you feel now?

Wow, that she didn't expect.

She was surprised he didn't wake up by the way her heart was beating madly under his hand. This line of thought was pumping too much adrenaline into her blood.

If she were to be honest, really honest with herself, she would have to admit he had that power over her. If he chose to hurt her he would excel... good to know it wasn't in him, to hurt her. Good to trust him to avoid it at any cost. He had proven that to her several times before...

So why was she afraid of it? There was no reason, really.

And if he wasn't going to hurt her—on purpose... which was all you could really ask for—there was no reason to fear sharing her life with him. She knew he wasn't going to betray her or abandon her: he wanted her happiness. She'd believed him. She still did.

In doing so, he wouldn't steal her freedom from her. He'd once told her freedom was when you could leave but you decided to stay anyway. Now she understood; if she chose to be with him, it would be her choice—not his. She'd still have her options open, only she'd rather be with him than not.

Because she couldn't imagine her life without him in it anymore.

How could she, if they'd been together almost everyday for years now?

If she felt the way she did whenever he was near... whenever he wasn't?

The weight that had begun to be lifted from her came back in full force.

That was the biggest problem.

She was afraid of him not being there.

What if they did move in together and shared it all... she'd have no way of preventing the hardest of falls if he were to be gone. If something were to happen to him.

And how is that any different from the way you feel now?

Finally, like a feather being blown by the wind, the weight lifted completely. She felt at ease, calm in the knowledge it didn't matter where they were, how they were, there was no way they could change what they were now. An address wouldn't make a difference.

They were in love.

Yes, her rational mind kept asking her what love was. But no matter how she defined it, no matter how people had defined it, she had all of the symptoms. It didn't matter whether it was the effect of hormones on her that made her believe she loved him or the other way around—that love made her hormones change, as Booth had reasoned once when trying to explain his view on science: there were things that couldn't be measured in labs. Love was still a part of the mystery she tried so hard to explain, and would be for a long while... but thinking of love, when thinking of him, felt just right.

She loved him... she could promise him to try.

Powerful in the certainty of her love for him, of this newfound emotion—it seemed they were right when they said love would make you free—she took his hand and lifted it so it would be surrounding her as she turned on her side.

Amazed by the way accepting her love for him felt, she caressed his handsome, symmetrical face with her hand. He didn't move, only breathed a bit deeper.

Tracing his eyebrow with her thumb, she smiled at the challenge.

She kissed his lips softly, as if she were tempting him. Not waiting to see his reaction, she kissed his jaw, the point where his clavicles met, trailing kisses over his chest until she reached a nipple.

Touching it softly with the point of her tongue, she teased it, increasing the stimulation bit by bit. She realized he'd woken up when she heard him hiss and felt his fingers in her hair. He didn't say a word, but his breathing and the small sounds escaping his lips signaled he was being rapidly turned on.

Pushing his shoulder, she made him lay on his back. She continued her way down his body, swirling her tongue on his skin, the grooves in between his muscles and his navel, reveling at his involuntary twitching responses to her explorations. At his glorious erection pulsing with his arousal.

She loved knowing she could make him answer this way to her. She'd always enjoyed sex, though it had been mostly about her own gratification. But now? The way they both found delight in making love to the other was a fundamental part of their connection. That's why she liked to pleasure him so much.

Her eyes opened to look at his reactions, she took him with a hand and closed her lips over the tip. She sucked a bit, just as a preview of all she could do to him. He fisted his hands on the rumpled sheets just as he forced a quick intake of air into his lungs. Knowing that to be a sign of his approval, she lapped around the head and down the shaft, to then blow the wet paths her tongue had left.

She knew it was kind of cruel of her, but she also liked to see him squirm a bit.

Using her lips now to stimulate him, she made her way up him to then take as much as she could in her mouth. Closing her lips around him, she began to move over him; lapping, sucking, using her teeth a bit every once in a while to stimulate him further.

She knew he was enjoying it by the groans and labored breaths she heard from him. And by the way he couldn't stop himself completely from thrusting his hips into her.

When she was satisfied he was close enough to climax to be out of his mind, but not close enough to lose it, she slowed down until with one final sucking motion, she let go of him.

She kissed his hip, enjoying the way his hands came to rest on her head, massaging her skull and playing with her hair. She knew he'd refrained from doing that before in the fear of hurting her with his reactions—it was much better if he fisted his hands on the sheets rather than in her hair—which only served to make her feel giddier with her passion for him, with her love for him. She was sure that even if she'd taken the lead before, it was the first time she'd found real enjoyment in pleasing him...

That's what making love was all about. It was about finding pleasure in your partner's pleasure. It was about being so connected—by your love—that what you did to the other you did to yourself... because the circle was complete. Because you'd engaged.

Now she got to understand another facet of the concept. Now that she'd allowed herself to feel what had been there for a long time, and she'd felt powerful in her new knowledge she could finally say she'd found what she'd been looking for... even if she hadn't known she'd been searching in the first place.

Filled with a sense of omnipotence, some kind of... light shining from her heart, she moved so she'd straddle him and bracing herself with her hands on his chest, she went down for a passionate kiss to which he responded immediately. His hands traveled from her hair to her back and hip, trying to lead her to take him in.

Smiling against his mouth, she resisted just to tease him a bit. Still without exchanging a word, he seemed to understand it was her choice. Smiling back, he placed both hands on her back and sat on the bed so they'd be face to face.

They kissed slowly this time, savoring each other, their hands exploring the other's body as if it were the first time. Then, rising a bit and circling her arms around his shoulders, she looked for the right position to finally welcome him in her.

She took him in, moving her hips in circles, going down slowly until they were perfectly joined. A sigh of utter satisfaction left their lips, which connected again in a searing kiss for the few moments that it took her to start moving. As she increased the speed and her pleasure built steadily, she began to use her inner muscles to squeeze and clutch at him.

Judging by the sounds he was making and the way he was gripping at her, she wasn't the only one enjoying it.

After kissing her shoulders and sucking at her breasts, he laid on the bed again taking her with him. The new position stimulated new spots in her, which augmented her pleasure until she couldn't keep her rhythm anymore. Bracing his feet on the bed, he responded by pumping into her himself.

Definitely, team work was much better for these kinds of situations.

She knew she was going to come soon by the way she was feeling, but she wanted to wait for him. She'd wanted to make this about him this time; but they fit so perfectly together that whatever she did to him took her closer to her own climax. Just thinking of the way he loved her, of the way she loved him back... of their future together and the promise that could be made on faith in each other...

Her orgasm seized her so suddenly that she wasn't able to hold it back. Letting an involuntary moan escape, she let herself fall deeper into it as she felt his movements start to come irregularly, signaling his own peak overtaking him.

She was able to pay attention to her environment again some moments later. Their breathing was still ragged, both sweaty by their love making and clinging to each other as if they'd actually fallen off a cliff.

Smiling into his neck, she breathed in his delicious scent.

Yes, his pheromones still made her dizzy. And she still felt the same way about him.

"Ask me again."

"Uh?" he made the effort to be articulate as he started caressing her back with a hand.

"Ask me again. My answer will be different this time."

That got his attention. Forcing his neck so he could look into her eyes, she saw him come to the realization of what she was talking about.

"It will?"

She kissed him tenderly, trying to convey her new emotions as she took his face between her hands.

"Yes. I finally understood why you see things the way you do. You see our future that way because you love me."

She saw his face fill with hope and the dawn of understanding.

"You mean..."

"Yes," she replied. "I allowed myself to follow a new path of questioning, which led me to a new conclusion. Now I see something I should have seen long ago. Especially considering who's in front of me."

He rolled his eyes, surely because he found the words too squinty. But she didn't mind, because his smile grew anyway. "You love me too, uh?"

"What?" she said indignantly, not having expected him to tease her there and then, much less to take her words from her.

"C'mon, say it," he demanded as he poked her ribs. "Tell me you love me. Tell me you now see our future together in a house of our own, with a garden and an office for you to be comfortable in and where you can write your novels and turn our lives into chapters for Kathy and Andy, and a mini-gym for me where I can watch my games..."

"Stop it," she squirmed trying to get rid of his probing fingers, laughing despite herself. She was ticklish, after all, much to her dismay. "Now, stop it!"

"... with a big kitchen where we can have breakfast in the morning, me with my paper and you with your journal, with enough bedrooms just in case... just in case Parker wants to bring friends over," he finished, finally setting her free and hugging her and finding a cuddling position. She could hear his heart beating fast in his chest as her face rested there. "And where we can share our life, with its highs and lows, gliding through it or fighting for it, I don't care, as long as it is with you."

A few moments passed by, and she was still lost in the images of what was to come for them.

"Tell me, Temperance," he asked again, softly this time.

"I love you, Booth. I can see it too, and I'm willing to try."

He sighed, making her head rise and fall. Then he kissed the top of her head.

"Thank you for giving us this chance, Bones. I assure you, we won't regret it."

"I know," she replied, finding she was moved again... this time because she realized she was the person she wanted to be. Because now that she'd allowed herself to really listen to him, not putting her walls up unnecessarily, allowing his dreams and words to get in touch with her, she knew she wasn't only granting his happiness... but theirs. Because now she'd open the door to a new facet in their relationship... one full of the joy that only accepting love could guarantee.

FIN

I wonder if anyone knows what Booth was about to say before he amended himself... because it's so difficult to get an idea! lol

So, now it's complete. I've always thought this story could (should) be included in "Let your heart Speak", and maybe it will. Once I start writing that one again **slapping myself into motion**.

Once again, thanks to SherlockBones!