Author's Note: So... here marks the beginning!
For those of you who have not read "We are Legend," some of these little ficlets could be read without digging into the big momma fic. Some of them could even be attributed to recent spoilers, if you choose. I'll let you know ahead of time whether or not this is the case. For example, this oneshot here could be removed from the WaL universe, if you chose.
And since this was the most requested, lol, I figured I'd start with this one. Timeline puts it about a week or two after the epilogue.
.A Little Confession.
"So, Jared and I took the truck over to Max. Normally, of course, I could fix it myself, but with our schedule lately, that's a no-go. Besides…"
And he's going off again. But not about trucks or vintage restorations or things of that nature. So often lately, it's always "Jared and I." She smiles, settling into the covers and pillows, one hand propping her chin up as she watches him. Her smile doesn't reach her eyes, because she's nervous, but it brightens nevertheless at his enthusiastic retellings. "I'm glad things with your brother have improved," she encourages him quietly when he's finished.
He peers down at her as he slides under the duvet beside her, planting a kiss on her waiting lips. "Thank you."
She lingers a little longer than necessary, which is saying something, and feels a loss when he finally pulls away. She worries her bottom lip between her teeth as he situates himself in the bed for the night, fluffing the blankets and pillows. He does it now just to make her laugh, she thinks. He says he isn't a perfectionist, but she knows better.
There's a buzz, though, in her stomach. And she hasn't decided if it's a pleasant buzz or not. "Booth?" she murmurs softly, eyes downcasting to admire the patterns of the sheets. She twists a small bunch of it in her fingers.
She feels his eyes on her before he speaks, which is a small comfort. This is part of what she knows, and it's a safe zone. Despite that she's about to plummet from a great height. "Yeah, Bones?" When she doesn't reply and the seconds drag on, his lighthearted expression slowly fades into concern. Upon her continued silence and anxious expression, he shifts onto his side, watching over her attentively. "Honey, what is it? What's wrong?" His voice is so soft and so loving and troubled, she almost starts to cry.
She placates him with a tentative smile, hurrying to assure him. She hates to see him so worried. "No. No, it's nothing… bad."
That frown eases a little, but his brow remains creased at her evasiveness—which is odd coming from her. "It's something good, then?" he ventures, a little hopefully. Still too wary to form any expectations.
Her throat clogs, and she's displeased with her lack of response. But how does one say this? Lead up to it? Is it something that's said, shown, hinted at? Something that requires evidence? She's terrible at these social cues and rituals. His brown eyes never leave her, though, and they remind her of who she is. They show her that he's never cared about her awkwardness. He's loved her all the time, quirks included. And… she's always been straightforward in the past…
"May I see your hand?" she finally requests.
His brow creases further, but his lips tip into a hesitant grin. "You've learned how to read palms?" he guesses comically, though offering her the desired contribution.
Her fingers slide over his, and he's so warm. Always so warm. It's a comfort in many ways.
When she slowly draws his hand with hers beneath the covers, he's flummoxed. His deductive reasoning speeds into overdrive, analyzing and rejecting several scenarios. But mostly, he's confused. For a fleeting moment, he thinks that he knows she'd never behave like this if it was anything sexual. She'd never been coy or so nervous in the past in that department. But then, he fears that it's just something so out there as a request, and now he's nervous. Amused, eagerly curious, but definitely nervous.
He can feel her pulse thudding against his hand. Good God, just how out there was… she… talking…
Every hungry thought instantly flies from his mind when she at last stills his hand over her stomach. For a long time, that's how they stay.
Wheels turning madly in his head, it isn't long before he finally connects the dots like any true investigator. His lips part, jaw hanging open slightly, and her wide blue eyes drag up his face. Cataloguing every nuance, every reaction. She reads the exact moment on his expression when he feels the very slight bump beneath his hand.
"You're…" he whispers.
And she's begun to chatter like a mad woman. The Queen of Etiquette morphs seamlessly into Run-on Sentence Lady before his very eyes. "I didn't want to say pregnant, because that sounded so dire—like something severe like cancer, as though I have a disease or some such thing, which I don't—I don't have cancer. I didn't want to say expecting, because well, that's considerably vague. And with child just seemed so archaic and I'm aware you don't really prefer it when I spout all this anthropological data, and—"
The megawatt grin that's begun to steal over his countenance immediately terminates her speeding monologue. "We're having a baby?" he surmises tentatively, awed, deliriously ecstatic.
"Well... technically I'm having a baby, but…" she trails off quietly, eyes watering unwittingly. Softly, she murmurs, "I like the way you say it." All at once, she's acutely emotional. Because they're having a baby. She is with child—with his child. Together, they've created life.
Somewhere within their lovemaking, two heartbeats became One.
A tear rolls down her cheek as she observes this situation with brand new eyes. He tips his head and gently kisses it away, and she's dazed to see her favorite shade of brown filmed over with moisture. "You're happy?" she wonders with a watery expression.
He laughs, and her heart soars. "Yes. Yes, Bones, I'm happy." And he's kissing her again, and she suddenly can't stop smiling. "So happy!" He scoots down the bed and she squeals when his lips start peppering adoring kisses all over her belly.
They're both laughing now. Eager to investigate, he gently slides the hem of her shirt up a ways, staring fixedly at her skin. She holds back another endeared laugh, but the smile stays, and she smoothes her fingers over his hair with overflowing affection.
A warm hand presses against her stomach, and his grin fades into a tiny, fascinated smile. As if discovering the universe for the first time. "There's a little me or a little Bones in there?" he wonders aloud, barely over a whisper.
Her soft laugh is husky, but resembles a giggle at his enthralled observation. "Yes," she says. Pleasantly, she slips her hand over his atop her midsection. Her head tilts in curious contemplation. "Is it terrible for me to wish it a little-you?"
His eyes meets hers, and his smile widens. "No," he assures, pressing another soft kiss over the growing evidence of their love. "Only as terrible as it is for me to hope for a little-you." He crawls back up to her then, but his hand never leaves her stomach. Always so warm. Another kiss from him, and she's delighted even more. Slow, caring. She feels him smiling against her lips, and ventures he feels the same on his. "And I'm right, by the way," he notifies when they finally draw apart. The grin on his face is almost smug now. A curious crease dips her brow, and he laughs. "It's a baby-Bones."
She guffaws, swatting him on the chest. "There's no possible way to know that yet!"
But he's always right.