Booth kicked the snow off from his shoes at the door. Brennan had already slipped her shoes off and had disappeared into his bathroom. He took off his jacket and walked toward the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. He couldn't help his ears listening to every little sound. He wondered if… Let's just say that his imagination began to wander. But let's be honest here, folks. It had been four years. He knew how to wrangle that imagination and wrangle he did.
He felt a headache coming on—one of those side effects of his surgery—and reached into the cabinet for a glass, which he filled with water. He began to walk toward the bathroom. "Uh, hey, Bon…" his feet froze to the ground.
A soft light from the bathroom bathed the darkened hallway. He stood in the shadows. And to tell you the truth, his first thought wasn't sexual. OK. His second thought wasn't sexual. Instead, he was acutely aware of the intimacy of the situation.
When Brennan went into Booth's apartment, she had already laid out the least complicated way to stay the night at his house. She was going to steal one of his shirts and quickly change in the bathroom before he knew what hit him. She would be in his spare room surrounded by… whatever it is ten year old male children these days like… and would drift off to sleep with only a few words exchanged between them. Five minutes tops.
Unfortunately for her reawakening libido, she found herself dwelling on a few certain things somewhere between rational thought and the conversation had with Booth about a case he was solving with Perotta.
Once inside the bathroom, she kicked off her jeans and pulled her shirt over her head. Both items were discarded to the tiles. She then reached for the shirt she had snatched from Booth's drawer (second drawer from the top). She didn't bother with how she had such a personal knowledge of Booth's drawers. She probably wouldn't be able to pinpoint the first time she rummaged through the drawers. Maybe it came from all of those times she brought him a clean change of clothing when he was hospitalized for being shot, stabbed, blown up, or beaten?
But as she reached for the shirt, she caught a glance of her body. It was really the first time she had looked at herself in the mirror. She ran her finger across the red scar from which her baby had been born. She remembered the sea green nursery and the way Booth had touched her, kissed her, pressed against her. He didn't notice these changes as she had. Of course, he was probably just horny and wanted sex. He would've been blinded by a surge of sexual urgency.
Booth watched for a moment, then politely knocked. Brennan pulled the shirt over her head and pulled the shorts she found in the top drawer over her undies. Homer Simpson boxers, in case you were wondering.
"Do you need something?" she asked, bluntly. She was calm in the outside, but on the inside, she was worried he had seen her. Worried? Who had she become?
Booth came into the bathroom and reached for the cabinet. "Excedrin," he smiled. He was still trying to figure out exactly what he had just seen. He still remembered the way she felt in his arms. He still remembered the way she smelled and how her soft skin felt against his broad hands. Why would she be self-conscious? Maybe he should ask Sweets about it later?
He unscrewed the cap and felt Brennan's eyes on him the entire time.
"What's up, Bones?" he asked at last, screwing the cap back on, then looking at her seriously.
She seemed as if she would say something, but then said, "Nothing, Booth. Should I just…?"
"Oh, yeah. Let me, Bones." He swallowed the pills, shut off the light and led Brennan to the spare room (not that she didn't know where it was).
Brennan had never seen Parker's room before. It was very similar to how she had imagined it. There were indeed age-appropriate items decorating the room.
"Right now, he's really into the Yankees. I told him the Phillies were better, but y'know… after they bombed the Series, he refuses to believe me."
"Your first point of contention?" Brennan asked, slightly amused.
"No," Booth answered quickly. He smiled with a memory. "It's just part of being a parent, Bones. They teach you just as much as you teach them."
Brennan rolled that around for a moment. "I suppose that could be true at some point, but until a certain age, it's more than arguable that the adult parent would know more than the offspring."
Booth sat on Parker's bed and took an Erector model from his side-table. "When he was born, Bones, I thought… How am I supposed to take care of this little person and be a role model…"
"You're an excellent father, Booth."
"Yeah, Bones, but at that point, it's… it's scary. You don't know what you're doing. You've never been a parent before. You don't know what's going to happen… Bones, Parker taught me the meaning of true love. When you hold your child in your arms, there's nothing like it. Nothing. And it's forever. Believe me, Bones, they teach you. From day one."
Brennan took a seat beside Booth and took the model from Booth's hands. She looked at it thoughtfully for a few minutes. "I didn't think it could feel like that," she whispered. Then she looked up at Booth.
"Love is… it's amazing. Huh, Bones?"
She smiled at him. "Yes."
In his mind, there couldn't be anything more wonderful to come from Brennan's lips. So, he kissed them.
Angela was deep in concentration. Sun-yellow paint had spattered here and there, but thanks to a thick mask that was tied over her nose and mouth, the paint would only spatter on the things that were the most difficult to wash out… such as her dark hair that was pulled high into a pony tail, or the messy multi-colored painting shirt that she wore over old jeans. A fan spun in the corner circulating air and playing with black strands of hair that tickled the her forehead. She reached up and scratched, then made the last few strokes on a large golden sun.
She was deep in concentration when Cam, Daisy, and Michelle came in with drinks. "This party needs to be spiced up," Cam announced, handing an alcoholic beverage to Angela. Cam went to hand one to Daisy, but she kept it out of her reach, "You're not a silly drunk, are you? Because I don't know if I could deal with Daisy times two."
"Um, I actually tend to cry and tell secrets about myself to people that I swore I'd never share with anyone."
"Just one for you, then," Cam laughed.
"None for me," Angela said.
Daisy giggled, burped, covered her mouth, then asked, "What, are you pregnant?"
Angela just looked at her straight-faced, then asked, "I was thinking of highlighting the bottom of the sun with Goldenrod, what do you think?"
"Wow," Cam said. "It's just—I mean, wow."
"O.M.G.," Daisy said, wide-eyed.
Michelle gave Daisy a curious look, then said, "Why is it such a big deal? You're married, right?"
"In the real world, it's a lot more than just 'Are you married or not'". Cam crossed her arms.
"It's not. It's not a big deal," Angela said, her voice pitching. She made a gesture which sent Goldenrod splattering around the room.
Daisy jumped back.
"Does Hodgins know?" Cam asked.
"Of course he knows. And he's fine. It's not like we can't afford two children."
"What about Brayden's therapy?"
"Four times a week he has speech therapy and he has physical therapy twice a week. He's doing great. Thriving. It's going to be great, I mean…" Angela realized that maybe she was mostly trying to convince herself more than anything.
"What about your job? I mean, a friend of mine got preggers and she dropped school like a hot skillet," Michelle said.
Angela was silent for several seconds, her mind in another galaxy. "I think… I need to step out for some air or something."
"Angela, I didn't mean to…" Cam tried to stop her, but watched her walk out of the apartment. She then looked back at the mural Angela had painted. It looked great. Again, that sadness began to creep in… that feeling that maybe she had missed out on something in life.
A cell phone rang. Michelle answered it, "Uh-huh. OK. I'm sure it's fine with my mom. OK. See you there." She hung up the cell phone, "Is it OK if I go with Makaylee to the movies tonight?"
Cam nodded, a little dazed. Michelle probably didn't notice what she had said as she walked out of the room. Daisy chatted about strawberries and pink or something along those lines, but Cam was content in the thought that she had done everything right in her life.
Then her own cell chimed its familiar tune. She looked down and saw that she was expecting a text message from David Murray. Where did she learn that name? Oh, yeah. The handsome YOUNG doctor that she met in the NICU.
She accepted it.
Inbox: Free tonight?
She felt her cheeks warm. Daisy was transfixed by the little apple blossoms that danced around the window treatments. She replied, "Maybe."
After a minute, he hadn't replied, so she decided to shoo Daisy out of the apartment and search for Angela. As she locked up, she received another text message. She took her hands out of her gloves, exposing them to a wintry D.C. wind.
Inbox: I'll pick you up at 8.
For a moment, she was bewildered. How could he possibly…? Instead of asking the obvious, she replied, "See you then." If he wanted to play Sexy and Mysterious, she wouldn't fight it. She would sit back and see what happens.
Thank you for reading. I apologize for the inconsistency in updates. Right now my goal is just to finish it. This semester has been kicking my butt in the worse way. I will try to update once a week. I have time to be creative every weekend. I'm hoping that when I do sit down and write, that something comes of it and I have something to share with you guys.