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Booth sat impatiently on the shady motel room bed , a million doubts fluctuating through his mind. The air that was once filled with the noises of Christine babbling and Bones going on long anthropological tangents, was now left null and void. Booth was utterly alone. The sound of crickets chirping and silence rung out in the air. It was too quiet. Painfully quiet.
Suddenly, a shadow passed by the window. Booth, in his paranoid state, quickly swiped his handgun off the nightstand. He scurried over to behind the doorframe, his gun grasped tightly in his sweaty palms. The lock clicked, opening slowly as small, delicate hands clutched the door. The hands were not those of a man. They were well-manicured. But booth didn’t realize. As the anonymous figure crossed the threshold, booth grabbed their hand in an attempt to disorient, but the suspect was quicker, and quickly flipped booth over to his back. He shrieked as the unknown person dropped onto of him, but he quickly rolled over, putting him on top. They both groaned , their breaths heavy from the struggle. He raised his fist, ready to punch as her hands shot upward in defense. His eyes brimmed with recognition . She was blonde, not brunette, as a result from being on the run, but her eyes were undeniable. He could recognize that face— that face he had fallen in love with, with those bright eyes and perfect bone structure— just about anywhere.
“Bones?” Booth , his tone betraying his surprise, and excitement. It was so hard for him not to smile.
“Booth,” she exhaled in relief. His name was an oath on her tongue, one that he had longed to hear for three months. Her lips pulled into a tight smile, “I knew you’d come.”
His eyes darted back and forth between her eyes, searching, almost as if he double checking he wasn’t dreaming.
He looked at her like she was rare— ephemeral, and he vowed not to take one second for granted. He dove into a kiss, dropping his body weight onto her. His forearms framed her head, shielding her from anything— anyone but him, and his affection. Their lips fit together like two puzzle pieces reunited at long last. Her arms grasped at his back, his biceps, touching everywhere and anywhere she could. She had been deprived of his touch for too long, and now she was desperate for any physical contact.
After a minute of making out like teenagers, they pulled apart from their kiss, their breathing rapid as they rested their foreheads together.
A single, stray tear slipped from his eye. Booth crying was rare, as he always seemed to hide his sadness. But this wasn’t a tear of despair, it was a tear of joy. The droplet dropped onto her face, binding them together again.
She quickly followed his display of emotion. with her own tears, except hers was a full body sob of relief, months of tension ricocheting, and dissipating through her cry. He tilted her back up, embracing her into his strong arms. Their bodies were fully pressed together since both booth and bones were eager for each others affections. With his head next to her hair, he inhaled a shaky breath, the all too well aroma of bones signature shampoo filling his lungs.
They didn’t say anything for a couple minutes, too invested in their hug to speak. But their touch spoke louder than words. They were together again. And if they could help it, they would make sure it stayed that way.