This story basically came out of nowhere. I wanted to do something that no one had done before, and this is what I came up with. It's fluffy and it's hopeful and I hope you like it.

Sea Legs

"You okay, Bones?" Booth asked, eyeing his partner cautiously.

"I'm fine, Booth," she replied for the sixth time since they had boarded the ferry.

"Okay," he said warily. "You just seem a little…nervous."

"I am not nervous," she insisted, keeping her eyes straight ahead rather than meet his knowing gaze.

"I think you're nervous."

She sighed. "I just…don't like boats."

"You don't like boats."

"That's what I just said." She glanced at him. Sighed again. "For some reason, being sea-bound has always trigged an adrenaline rush, caused my heart rate to spike, my palms to sweat…My dad referred to something called 'sea legs' and my lack there of, but I don't really know what that means."

Booth smiled and draped his arm across her tense shoulders. "It means, Bones, that boats make you nervous."

"There are numerous explanations for my symptoms, Booth. It's not necessarily nerves."

"Right," he said. "Except it is."

She glared at him. "It is not."

He grinned and leaned back against the bench they were occupying at the helm of the boat. "You know, Bones, for a scientist, you can be pretty dense sometimes."

She looked at him disbelievingly, before crossing her arms and leaning back as well. "I'm not being dense. I'm simply noting and assessing the many, rational explanations for my condition. Like any good scientist."

"Fine," he said, nodding. "Way to go, squint. But my gut is telling me, you're nervous. And we all know how good I am at reading people."

She gave him a look. "Booth, we've gone over this. Your gut has no scientific bearing."

"So what about all those murders and criminals I catch, huh? Lucky guesses?"

"I will admit that you have a…knack," she admitted grudgingly. "But facts always trump feelings."

"Yeah, Bones, but sometimes facts can't cut it."

"I have never found that to be true."

He let out a long breath and leaned toward her. "You see that couple over there, by the railing?" he asked without taking his eyes off her face.

She glanced away from him and found the couple he was referring to. They were leaning against each other. His arm was wrapped her waist. Her head was resting against his shoulder. "What about them?" she asked, returning her gaze to his face.

"They're in love," he said.

"Not necessarily," she countered. "They could be friends. Brother and sister maybe."

"No, Bones. You see when you force yourself to consider every single, rational possibility, you're blinded to what's right in front of you." He pointed at the couple. "They are in love. The way they look at each other, the way he's holding her, blocking her from the wind. They're in love." He smiled. Leaned towards her. Tapped her nose with his fingertip. "And you are scared of boats."

She scowled at him. "I am not."

He only grinned and leaned away from her again. "Stubborn," he commented softly.

She smiled. "Always."

He inhaled deeply, enjoying the salt air, the wind in his face. "So I guess that's why you didn't sail off with Sully into the sunset."

"What?" she said, caught off guard by his sudden comment.

"You didn't sail off with Sully," he said, his tone light and teasing, "because you're scared of boats."

She shook her head, refusing to match his playful tone. "That's not why I stayed, Booth. You know that."

The smile faded from his face. He swallowed. "Do I?"

She glanced at him. Found his eyes dark and searching. "Yes," she said steadily, schooling the waver out of her voice.

He held her gaze for a moment, lost in the blue of her eyes, the furrow in her brow. "Bones?"

"Yes?" she said.

"Come stand at the railing with me."

She leaned away from him. The movement was subtle, but didn't escape his notice. "I'd rather not, Booth."

"Oh, come on," he cajoled, taking her hand and pulling her to her feet. "You'll find your sea legs yet."

He led her up to the railing and tried to ignore the tug of worry he felt when she pulled her hand from his grasp. He closed his eyes and leaned forward into the wind, feeling the cool bite of it against his cheeks. After a few minutes, he chanced a glance at Brennan and found her staring off towards the horizon, her eyes distant and unfocused. He took the opportunity to study her, catalogue the curves and planes of her beautiful face. He admired the gentle angle of her jaw, the drooping line of her mouth, the delicate, pink shade of her lips. The way her brow furrowed, the way her lips puckered, the way the sunlight caught in the waves of her hair, making it shine.

When she finally came to, pulled from her daydream by the sensation of his steady gaze on her, she glanced at him. Met his eye. "You're right," she said quietly, so quietly he almost didn't hear her over the wind. "I am nervous."

He nodded and shifted closer to her. "It's okay to be nervous, Bones," he told her.

She nodded and pulled her thin sweater tighter as a gust of wind rolled off the water. The shiver that coursed through did not escape his notice and he immediately shrugged out of his jacket. He draped it across her shoulders and moved to stand behind her, his hands resting on the railing on either side of her. She tensed slightly, her head turned to the side, and he waited for her protests, her complaints, but they never came. Instead, she simply said, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he said softly.

They fell silent then and remained that way for a long time. Gradually, they inched closer, until he could feel the outline of her back against his chest, feel the heat of her body through his shirt. He slid his hands from the railing and wrapped them around her waist, his hands splayed across her stomach. Still, she didn't object, didn't pull away, didn't reestablish that line that had been so carefully managed for all these years.

"Anyone looking, would think we were a couple," she said finally.

He nodded. Leaned closer until his mouth was level with her ear. "Anyone looking," he said, his voice quiet and rough, "would think we were in love."

She nodded and the boat rocked. He could feel her body shifting against his. "But they would be wrong, right?"

He swallowed. This was dangerous territory they were stepping into. "You tell me," he said softly.

She tilted her head back, angled her face towards his. "I didn't stay because I was afraid of boats, Booth."

"You didn't?" he asked.

She shook her head. "No, I didn't."

He leaned forward, until their lips were only a breath away. "Why did you stay?" he asked her.

"You know why," she breathed.

"Tell me," he said.

She turned in his arms. Rocked up into her tiptoes. Pressed a feather-light kiss to his parted lips. "Because of this," she told him. "Because of you."

He lifted his hand to her cheek. Traced her lips with his thumb. "Me?"

She nodded. "You."

He grinned and kissed her. Reveled in the way she pressed against him, the way she tilted her head and parted her mouth. She tasted of salt and sweet and Bones. Smelled like home. He shifted his lips to her neck, and nibbled his way to the underside of her jaw, eliciting a low moan from her. He smiled and pulled her closer, aching for the feel of her body, the true feel, not one blurred by clothes and distance. She shifted to her toes and her breasts climbed higher against his chest. He groaned and found her mouth again.

His kiss was gentle, but she sensed the undercurrent of desperation, of longing, of need. She traced his lower lip with her tongue. Kissed his chin, scratchy with the shadow of stubble. Wrapped her arms around his neck, only vaguely aware as his proffered jacket slipped to the deck.

His arms wound around her waist, his hands finding their way under her shirt too the skin beneath. He heard her sharp intake of breath as his fingers trailed across her lower back, felt the kiss turn desperate and raw. "Booth," she begged. She needed him in more ways than he could give her now.

He smiled. Kissed the corner of her mouth and her forehead. "Soon," he promised and she sighed, nestling against his chest, her head tucked under his chin.

"Booth?" she said, her voice muffled against his shirt.

"Yeah?"

"Are we in love?"

He laughed softly, his arms tightening around her. "Yeah, Bones. I think we are."

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