"Yes." She said into the dimly lit nursery. "My answer is yes."

He'd dozed off. A newborn turned out to be more exhausting than just about anything he'd experienced in his life, including laying hours in wait as a sniper and boot camp where the goal seemed to be sleep deprivation. Rubbing his face almost violently, he tried to wake up and hide the fact that he had no idea what question she just answered. It seemed like since their return from their North Carolina getaway, there had been a ridiculous amount of questions with a ridiculous amount of answers to accompany them. His mind raced to catch up.

Yes to a house, something he thought they'd never live through as they searched, toured, debated, and researched Bones' style. Yes to the type of loan. Yes to how their names would appear on the deed of trust. In the mean time, yes to Christine's name. Yes to Angela as a middle name. Yes to Booth as her last name, not a hyphenated Brennan-Booth, that surprised him. Yes, to movers for her apartment. Yes, to which of their many eclectic items would move with them and which would go into storage. Yes, to a storage facility, proof you really can know too much about how belongings should be handled to protect them. Yes, to the guys helping them move out of his place, what had become their place. Yes, to furniture, a crib and changing table, washer and dryer, rugs, curtains, lamps, yes, yes, yes.

Yes to childbirth classes, though she insisted she didn't need them with her extensive knowledge of birthing rituals that spanned both the entire world and every era. Yes only because she agreed they needed to take them for his benefit. More debate than he thought humanly possible over a carseat and yet eventually there was a yes to that too. Yes to moving dates. Yes to a birthing center, a strange step between a hospital and home birth, a debate that had divided them almost up until the end. Which meant they could finally say yes to a birthing plan.

And finally, "yes, I'm in labor," words that held both excitement and terror in them. How fitting that he'd hear them as they stood in the observation room at the Hoover. While he'd been waiting for them, expecting them, those words never came but when he'd finally forgotten momentarily, there they were.

It'd had been another question altogether that had taken them down to the Hoover that day. Caroline had a possible deal in place with Yanna, the young Filipina girl that Chambers had brought over to the US. She and her baby had been placed in foster care after it had been discovered that she was under eighteen. In the process of trying to decide whether to send her back to the Philippines, Yanna let it be known that she did, in fact, know where the missing memory sticks were, offering to give them to the FBI in exchange for her family being allowed to leave the Philippines and come to America.

"My contact at the State Department assures me he can make it happen if that's the direction we need to go." Caroline informed them. "But, I have some concerns, cherie. For one, there's no guarantee that she hasn't copied those memory sticks somewhere else. If you agree to this deal she wants, there's always the risks she's just playin' us all for the fool."

She watched the two, Booth angered and tense, Brennan overdue by the better part of a week and clearly miserable.

"Yes, do it. I'll pay for their airfare. Do it, Booth, just tell Caroline to do it." Everything in her expression said she'd been sure of what she wanted, insistent, confident, anxious to move on.

"No." He barked. "Just let me think for a moment." His tension clear. That last few weeks neither one of them seemed to be able to sleep. She tossed and turned unable to get comfortable enough to sleep. He'd been a victim of her restlessness. And, it seemed whenever they beat the odds and got more than an hour or two of consistent sleep one or the other of them would wake rattled by a nightmare. There'd been too much change, too many decisions, too much stress.

They'd been there, at the Hoover, for what seemed like hours as Sweets, Shaw, and Caroline worked, questioned, listened to this young woman through her interpreter, guarded over by maybe the most vocal child advocate they'd ever seen and with the sporadic input of her foster parents sharing what they'd discussed over the weeks she'd been in their home. Hours of horror stories about how she'd left home, faked her age to work as a call girl in a club to help support her family. Hours that detailed their life in the Philippines, her life in the club, being sold like a commodity. Hours of her experience from the moment she first met Chambers, his offer to her, her experience with the other men, Clyve, Halverson, Phelps. Just as much of a victim in this whole mess accept this victim had a priceless bargaining chip.

"Let me talk to her." Booth turned all his attention to Caroline, ignoring completely Bones insistence that they move forward with the deal.

"Booth." She whined. "Just make the deal, Caroline. It's what I wa-"

"No. No, don't make the deal, Caroline. Bones, you aren't thinkin-"

"I am, I am thinking. I'm thinking I'm done with this and want it to end. I want to never hear about it again. I don't want to know about her or her family. I don't want to think about what sh-"

"I know what you think." He looked at her carefully, having spared her from admitting the depth of her feelings of guilt associated with all the many victims in this case. "I know what you feel, better than anyone else, sometimes even better than you know yourself." He locked eyes with her, forced her to go down this road with him rather than avoid it. "I'm just trying to protect you, Bones."

Caroline agreed to let Booth talk to her. They left. Brennan watched alone from the observation room as Booth talked directly to the young girl. Their words suddenly lost to her. That he loved her so fully, that he always had, confounded her at times, this being one of them. She didn't know, couldn't see how or why, having seen so very much of her soul, he still loved her. She had, however come to accept it, embrace it, and at times, marvel at it.

That's when she felt it, a pop, barely a drizzle, that at first made her think her bladder had rebelled and played a dirty trick on her. She'd been having light contractions all day, but she'd dismissed them as Braxton-Hicks and stress. As embarrassing as thought that she might have just urinated a bit had been, a hard contraction and another small bit of liquid followed so closely she had to consider another option. She counted as she continued to watch Booth, the clock, the interrogation, the door. Four contractions, roughly five minutes apart, lasting close to a minute, each bringing a small stream of liquid. She believed that it would test out to be amniotic fluid. She watched as Booth stood and turned towards the two-way glass, a sweet smile just for her. Opening the door, he knew immediately things weren't right.

"Bones, are you okay?" He reached for her. "Are you in labor?"

Unaware, Caroline came barrelling behind Booth, catching Dr. Brennan before she could even answer Booth.

"What do you think? Do you still want me to make the deal, cherie."

Her eyes darted back and forth in a panic as another contraction hit and her arms wrapped instinctually around her tightening baby belly.

"Yes." She looked up into his eyes his arms already around her. "I'm in labor." They were gone before she could answer Caroline.

His mind snapped back, he sat up from where he'd dozed off on the nursery floor. "Yes." Long and drawn out as he still tried to figure out what he'd asked her. "Yes, you want water." He often got her water or tea while she nursed, anything she needed. "I'll get you that water." It had been a total guess and as he watched her crestfallen expression in the dim light, he knew immediately he'd guessed wrong.

"It's okay, Booth, I understand. You were carried away by the moment." She swallowed hard as she tried to mask her hurt and embarrassment. "You don't have to, I'm sorry, I just, I shouldn't have assumed that the offe-"

"No, wait, Temperance, really?" He gathered her face into his hands, staring at her in near disbelief. "You're serious, yes, you're saying yes." Kneeling before where she sat in the rocker nursing Christine, it all started to click back into place. He couldn't help but chuckle, which just added to her look of worried confusion. Only his Bones would answer a question eight weeks later and expect him to know exactly what she'd been referring to.

Eight weeks ago he'd loaded her in the truck, sirens blared, lights flashed as he sped his way across town to the birthing center. He'd called Dr. Rousch's office to let the doctor know her water had broken and they were on their way. Bones seemed focused, he knew when the contractions hit, she'd grab at him, gripping down on whatever she caught as she breathed her way through the pain. After they passed, she'd lecture him on his speed.

"It's not like in the movies, Booth, labor takes hours. On average, first time mothers labor can last between ten to twenty-four hours."

"But some babies come sooner than that and how long have you been having contractions?" She felt the worry and concern roll off of him.

"Booth, regardless of all that…" There, another one, she got his forearm this time, a good minute and a half in length. Admittedly, it felt much longer for both of them. "We will make it to the birth center, I promise, without lights and sirens." His eyes darted back and forth from her to the road. Sweat gathered at her hairline, thin curled wisps clung to her skin there. Her face flushed, her breath slowly regulating itself back to normal. "Please slow down, for me."

Nodding before he answered, he reached over and turned off the siren and lights. "Okay." He let out a long sigh. "If you're sure." He caught her hand mid air as she reached for him. The time between contractions narrowed, length and intensity, definitely up. He'd be happy when they got there.

The rest became a flurry of ice chips, cool cloths dabbed across her forehead and hung around the back of her neck. He rubbed her back, applying counter pressure, held her up as she swayed through the contractions gently moving baby down as she endured the pressure and pain. He talked her through when she felt weak, put her hair up and took it down depending on her mood and desire, breathed with her, warned her of oncoming contractions, matched her mood as best he could until after hours of laboring, she looked at him with tired eyes and whispered. "I need to push."

His cue, he called for the nurse who checked her and agreed, definitely time to push. She curled her body, chin to chest, as Booth helped her hold her legs up. Emptied of all her strength, he knew she had to be exhausted, but she'd done it so far, just the way she wanted, just as they had planned. Nothing short of amazed by her, he stood next to her now encouraging, counting out each long push as she tried desperately to push all the way through each contraction. Then offering support, he reminded her how strong she was, how brave, how beautiful, how much he loved her, as she rested in between.

He knew they were close when Dr. Rousch took over at the foot of the bed. He watched as staff scurried around making ready for their tiny arrival. And then she called him, pointed his attention down to see the crown of their baby's head as it first peeked out. He looked up frantic, worried when it disappeared after the contraction ended, concerned there'd been a problem. Dr. Rousch reassured him, it's normal, happens in every birth.

"A few more contractions and it'll stay. We just need to make them count." And then she addressed Bones directly. "Okay, Dr. Brennan, I know you're tired but on these next contractions I need you to really give it your all, okay?" Bones only nodded, too drained for anything else.

"She has your hair, your curly dark hair." His smile and wonderment gave her strength.

He watched in awe, once again a full head of curly dark hair started to peek out with the next contraction, just like the doctor had predicted. Overwhelmed by the sight, the next break in contractions, he came to rest his forehead on hers, his Bones.

"I love you." Too weak to respond, she nodded as she tried to catch her breath. "You know I love you, right? And I know, I know you love me, I do, I know it." Smoothing her hair back off her forehead, he leaned in close as he laid a kiss on her forehead. "Temperance, that isn't going to change. It'll never change. Marry me, be my wife, I know it's not really your thing, and you don't have to answer now, when you're ready, okay? When you're ready, just know that the offer still stands." He had to laugh at himself, what a horrible time to even ask, but he couldn't help it. He couldn't not do it. He needed her to know that he wanted her in that way. He wanted her to know that she was his everything, his friend, his partner, his lover, and hopefully someday, his wife. Even if she never accepted the offer, he needed her to know. Her eyes darted desperately across his face as she let out a small scream before catching her breath and curling back into position pulling them both into the moment of Christine's birth.

Her head, her beautiful little face, then shoulders, and she was there, right there with them. The sound of her cry a relief, a miracle. Booth cut the cord as Bones held her on her bare chest, giving their daughter her first taste off warmth and security. He watched in awe, a moment of pure perfection as Christine's tiny fingers wrapped around his. His other hand in constant tender motion, soothing this amazingly strong woman. Finding no words to adequately tell her all she'd just given him. They were whole. They were a family.

Visitors came and went. Their friends gathered, family mingled, all of them oohed and awed at their precious infant daughter. Eventually it would all quiet down. Booth watched over them as they slept, his heart wrapped tightly around his girls. In the quiet of the night, he sent a text to Caroline telling her to make the deal. By the next morning Bones, already complaining, pushed to go home. In tota,l they were there at the birthing center only a little over twenty-four hours, leaving as soon as they would let them go.

The excitement followed them, they'd barely finished skyping with Parker when the first ring sounded from their door bell. After that, their door seemed to be constantly opening to one visitor or another. Cam brought by meals prepared for the couple. An emergency driveby of diapers and burp clothes by Auntie Angela. Grandpa Max dropped in anxious for any opportunity to hold and rock the tiny infant. Those were all to be expected. The unexpected visit came from Cullen, who brought a special gift from Jon, a shell casing and Polaroid picture of himself with a huge grin and freshly shaven face. His employer had been so impressed by his decisiveness in killing Chambers, who he'd billed as a threat to their business, that they'd decided to bring him back to the States early and move him up in the organization. Booth gripped that shell casing tightly, that small piece of spent metal held so much, meant so much to him and his new little family.

When it wasn't company, their days and nights full of disrupted routine as they happily tackled long sleepless nights, blowout poopy diapers Booth compared to combat experience, check ups, first shots, sore nipples and struggles with breast feeding. There'd been no more talk and as far as he knew, no more thought of his spur of the moment proposal.

It had become lost or at least he thought it had until now, until this night, which had started out like so many others, where he'd gotten up to help Bones with the baby and end up dozing on the nursery floor beside them. But it hadn't been lost, she'd been thinking about it all this time and tonight she'd given her answer.

"Yes, I'm serious." A little more confidence in her voice. "If the offer still stands."

The bags under his eyes, dark and visible circles, stubble several days old, and a broad smile that reminded her of moment she told him she was pregnant.

"It still stands, of course it still stands." He stopped his onslaught of small kisses and sweet utterances. "Wait here." He commanded as he ran out of the room.

"You're funny, Booth." Like she would be going anywhere with an actively sucking baby on her breast. "Daddy's funny." She informed Christine, who let out a satisfied mumble as her tiny hand kneaded her breast as she continued to nurse.

Bones heard the rustling, the opening and closing of drawers. They hadn't been in the new house long and were still unpacking and settling where everything would go. The loud movements stopped though and Booth appeared back at her feet, a small ring box in hand.

Opening it, he pulled out the ring, simple smooth sleek lines, nothing to catch on the gloves she took on and off all day. "I designed it." He announced proudly as he slipped it on her finger. It was beautiful and she felt tears welling in her eyes, his gentle touch already there to sweep them away.

"It's perfect, Booth."

"It's you." It was, that was exactly what he designed it to be. It had to reflect her strength but be delicate and beautiful just like her. It had to be bold and make a statement, but also be practical so she could wear it all the time,

"When?" She looked up at him confused.

"A few months ago. I knew I wanted to ask you, I just didn't know when, so I decided to just get it and wait. I didn't plan on asking you the way I did." He admitted sheepishly. "I had other, better plans." There was no doubt that was the truth, he'd want it to be perfect for her, a romantic dinner or on the beach at sunset or the top of a mountain at dawn, on one knee no doubt, with a long proclamation of love and devotion. "The moment got the best of me." His fingers fiddled with the ring, now settled on her finger, twisted and turned it lightly.

"It was perfect, Booth, how you asked me was perfect." She caught his eyes. "I will never forget it."

Whispering they talked over their baby gir,l who'd finished nursing and drifted back to sleep. Booth carefully swaddled her back up and laid her carefully in her crib. Baby settled, monitors on, they slipped quietly out of the room and headed down the hall to their own bed.

They'd barely crawled back in bed when he felt her hands slide smoothly under the rim of his t-shirt. He smiled when he felt the bottom of the cool, gold ring drag along his bare skin. His whole body hummed as he responded instinctively to her touch, her intentions clear.

"Are you sure? If you're, you know, need sleep, tired, if you're, or not ready." Wandering, her hands moved and played across every plane of his body as he tried to talk and make sense. He didn't want her to stop and soon his hands joined hers as their bodies reaquainted in a blur of intimate brushes and hushed words of love. He promised to be slow and careful with her. She pushed him to move faster, begged as her murmurings of need drifted about them both. Anxious for their connection, she wanted to feel whole and complete with him. He resisted, playfully, almost tauntingly, until he leaned in close, barely able to think or breath himself.

"Are you ready?" His lips moved reverently against her skin. Ready for this, ready for him, for life and love and marriage, she was ready, ready for it all.

"Yes." She answered, breathless but sure. With that he carried her away towards everything that happened next.

ooooo0ooooo

The End….

Well, there is an epilogue still to come but this is the end of the main body of the story. That seems unreal to me, so unreal that it took three attempts to get something that felt remotely right. Hopefully this tied up all those pesky loose ends.

Thank you for all the help throughout this process and over the last year of writing. I couldn't have done it (and wouldn't have) if my husband hadn't pushed, encouraged, listened, and shared his opinions. Thanks to givesup for getting me started and listening and reading when I wasn't brave enough to post or let anyone else read. I think she and my hubby worked hand in hand to push (maybe drag) me out of my itty bitty comfort zone. Dharmamonkey and snowybones helped me with editing here and there, which was immeasurably helpful. And of course craftyjhawk who has become such a great and true friend, one who's not afraid to tell me when something I've written just isn't working (like the previous attempts at this last real chapter of Need) and scour each chapter for mistakes and misplaced or missing commas. Her writing help is invaluable but nothing compared to her friendship!

AND Thank YOU! For reading and reviewing, for sticking with me and this story through ups and downs and encouraging me along with your wonderful and touching reviews! Every one of them made a difference, kept me coming back to the story after some pretty emotional chapters wiped me out. Though this story is ending (just that short epilogue coming up) I promise there are more to come. Hindsight Being What it is, is off to a good start, the next bit of that story is almost done.

I hope you enjoyed this ending and would love to know what your thoughts

MUCH love

DG