Disclaimer: These characters aren't mine. No infringement intended.
Summary: Brennan and Booth are on different pages as far as babies are concerned.
Category: Romance, Angst, Pregnancy (kind of)
Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who continues to read and review my work. It means so much to me that you are take the time to do so. I hope you like the story and don't forget to visit my homepage and join Bones Fiction for lots and lots of fanfic!
He took a satisfyingly long draw of the cigarette between his fingers, exhaling with an audible sigh as his entire body - from his shoulders to the arches of his feet – seemed to relax.
Shit, he thought as the bluish plume dispersed into the night air. Smoking is just too easy.
It had been almost ten years since Seeley Booth had indulged in a nicotine fix. After that he substituted with playing the tables and after that...
Well after gambling, he'd done quite well at resisting all vices aside from the occasional beer and on even rarer occasions, liquor. But those old urges had come back to haunt him with a vengeance and he sucked another draw of the Marlboro Light despite knowing that it absolutely, in this instance or any other, was not the answer.
He'd found a darkened corner of the Jeffersonian Institute's floral gardens to partake in his sordid pastime in peace. What had possessed him to purchase the pack at all, he had no idea. Perhaps some part of his DNA had suddenly kicked into self-destruct-in-a-time-of-stress mode. Brennan would probably have some logical explanation for it, if he had a notion to tell her, which he did not.
Flicking the ash, he examined the stick in disgust, thinking of Brennan again.
It was her fault, really. He could handle the stress of an entire opposing army advancing but he could not handle it when Brennan started talking about 'their future' with childlike optimism. They'd only really crossed the boundary – shifted territories – and now suddenly he'd realised how much was at stake and how very easily, given his past, Temperance would wind up hurt.
From where he stood, squeezed between a prickly shrub and the back of the gazebo, Booth could see that she'd entered into the garden in her blue lab-coat, looked around for him and disappeared back inside, her ponytail bobbing as she walked. Gosh, how he loathed his lack of commitment. He had practically pursued her; asked her out for dinner, dropped by her apartment late at night for Thai food and a chat, consoled her when she needed it and now he was beginning to wonder if it was in too deep.
Stubbing out the cigarette and not wishing to litter the stunning grounds of the Jeffersonian he tucked the butt into his pocket.
Now, he realised, she had decided upon full commitment and that, from Temperance Brennan, the woman who'd been in a relationship with two men simultaneously, was heavy stuff. It meant that she wanted monogamy, dedication, companionship, unity and 'an Andy'. At first, it didn't make sense and while he was still mulling over the words, nodding in agreement Brennan was understanding that he was fully supporting her sudden biological urge for a baby.
An Andy. Of course. Since their investigation with the little guy, she'd been different.
"It's just that," she had began after assuming he was in consensus, "I felt different around him. Less awkward and I felt something that I hadn't felt before. I've been thinking about it a lot recently. A lot – and I feel like it would be a nice idea to maybe discuss the option?"
"Discuss the option...?" he asked aloud. "Of a baby?" He already had a son. Parker was an enormous part of his life – his priority. He'd never contemplated that another child could enter the equation and what the might mean for his boy. But she was looking at him so optimistically, her blue eyes alight in ways he had never seen before and it both shattered and melted his heart. God, he was in major trouble now.
It was far too soon to think about babies and settling down with such certainty. Not that he doubted his feelings for her. No. He loved her. Truly, he did. But a child was a totally different ball game.
Stepping back inside, Booth decided that he would have to tell her. Break her heart it may, but it was better than leading her on a false promise.
She looked up when he reached her office, wrinkling her nose as he strayed too close.
"You smell of cigarette smoke. Where did you go?" Jesus, he thought, she looks so happy.
"It doesn't matter. I need to talk to you, Temperance." Her smiling face faltered, a smidgen of doubt clouding her twinkling blue eyes. She placed the pen she was holding on the desk, turning her body towards him. Instinct to protect herself, rooted so deeply in her psyche, took over and she folded her arms beneath her breasts. "I was thinking about the baby thing..." he began and she lifted her hand, waving his words away.
"Oh that," she said. "That was purely whimsical. I hope you didn't think about it too much." Her lips quirked. "I mean can you imagine me with a baby?" She laughed and he relaxed, chuckling with her. "Listen, I've some reports to finish off her and then maybe we could meet for dinner?"
"Sure, absolutely. Meet you at the diner say eight o'clock?" The relief was paramount, a crushing weight seemingly evaporating from his shoulders and all that remained was the disgusting taste of cigarettes in his mouth. Slipping a stick of gum between his teeth he offered her a dazzling smile that he hoped did not convey his relief.
"Eight o'clock," she agreed.
Alone in her office, Temperance Brennan stared with unseeing eyes at the report on her computer screen. The words were a fuzzy blur and it was as though every bit of her scientific training had simply been eradicated.
The look in his eyes had been haunted as he'd stepped into her office, fidgeting nervously. She wasn't a fool, either. The smell of cigarettes had permeated his very clothes and it did not require the brains of a genius – though she was one – to deduct that he'd given into the craving. But that wasn't what disappointed her the most.
Their relationship had been so good lately. The companionship made her feel warm, they shared dinners and wine, lay in bed on the weekends and talked, read the newspapers on Sundays and went for walks. Sometimes he talked about retiring to the country and living a sedate life without the perpetual stress that came part and parcel with murder solving.
She'd been lulled into a sense of security that was quite clearly not as stable as she had first thought. Booth had his child and she had always been a non-maternal kind of woman, perfect for him since it seemed as though he had no inclination to have any more.
Pressing her fingertips to her eyes, Brennan staved off the tears that threatened to fall and tried to overcome the unexpected emotion she felt.
He had looked so startled and lost that she'd had no choice but to save him from the task of letting her down gently. Relief had flooded through him, so evident that it startled her. Did he find the idea so difficult that he wanted to refuse outright?
Yes, she decided, he did and it had been a mistake to even allow her mind to fantasise about having a baby with him. She had believed she wasn't genetically predisposed to become a mother and that was exactly what fate or destiny or whatever was proving.
Wiping at her eyes once more, Brennan pulled a tepid smile to her face and settled back in front of her computer. She'd always been good at repressing her emotions and now, it was required more than ever.
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