Ahh, I just realized that almost all my songfics are B/B centric. Next one will probably have something to do with Cam, so heads up on that! Also, there's a poll on my page asking what songs you think I should use. Vote on it, or send me a PM with a title, or both! I'm a chatterbox, so talk it up, reviewers ;D

SONG: "Cinderella"
ARTIST: Steven Curtis Chapman
RATING: K+ (for slight language)
PARING: B/B (i guess)

put your headphones in and enjoy our next selection

She spins and she sways
To whatever song plays
Without a care in the world
And I'm sitting here wearing
The weight of the world on my shoulders

I stepped through the doorway, whirling angrily through the foyer and into the kitchen. Setting down my keys with a hard thump upon the countertop, I walked to the fridge and pulled out a beer, hoping maybe it would take the edge off a frustrating case. Yet as I grabbed for it, the cold surface stung my fingers. I cursed under my breath at the unexpected shock, a frustrated sigh escaping immediately afterwards. It hadn't exactly been the best of work days, and my bad luck seemed to be continuing into my home life. Annoyed, I slammed the door, and my footsteps traveled into the living room. Maybe if I sat down for a while, all the stupid details of the case would come together into something that made sense.

Of course, no sooner had I crossed the threshold that my feet found the surface of Barbie's tiara - or something like that. I doubled over, clutching my foot, and growled in annoyance. "Hey, Faith? Could you please come put your toys away?"

A soft rumbling of footsteps signaled the approach of the little girl who was soon looking up at me apologetically with crystalline blue eyes. "Sorry, Daddy. Did you hurt your foot?"

Even after such an awful day, I couldn't be mad at the sound of that angelic little voice, and the simple presence of my daughter was enough to brighten even the gloomiest of days. And, well, I was a sucker when she gave me the look. "Aw, it's okay sweetheart. I'm alright."

"Mommy kisses my boo-boos." Her seriousness was all that of her mother's, and I chuckled as I swung her up and placed a kiss on her head before setting her down again amidst a chorus of giggles.

"Well, maybe she'll kiss mine later. Where is mommy?"

"Right here."

I looked up to hear her voice, a smile breaking out on my face. "Hey, mommy."

"I'm not your mother, Booth." She gazed at me sideways, frown lines crossing her forehead. I could tell she was trying to discern me, studying me like she might a piece of evidence. "You look...ill. Are you feeling well?"

My fragile moment of pleasure started to quickly fade, and I gave another sigh. "Ehh, tough case. You're lucky to have missed it. You wanna help with some of the details?"

She snorted. "You think this is lucky?" she asked, gesturing towards her swollen abdomen. Waddling over to the couch, she sat down gently, casting a wistful look over her shoulder. "Actually, I would very much like to be working on a case right now."

At her nod, I went to sit beside her, our daughter glancing up only briefly from her side of the room. Apparently she had decided to forgo putting the toys away in favor of playing with them. Her little frame was bent over a costume box, pulling many articles from the small chest as she mumbled to herself, completely absorbed in some imaginary game. We both gazed at her a moment, and then I looked back at my partner. My wife. God, I was never getting used to that. "You know," I began, placing a hand on her stomach, feeling for the life inside her, "I think this is lucky."

For once, she didn't debate the existence of luck, or counter my observation with some scientific speech of her own; instead she leaned over and rested her forehead against my shoulder, auburn locks spilling across my chest. "Let's just work on the case, Booth."

I frowned; it wasn't like her. The pregnancy was definitely taking its toll. A surge of anger was re-awakened, and smoldered inside - it had been an argument between us. I wanted to stay home more often, to, you know, help her, and she insisted I remain loyal to my job. And here my job was, kicking me in the ass. Without Bones, work was work, and it sure wasn't worth it anymore. Why did people murder others anyway? And why did they have to be so complicated? Who, in their right mind, would -


I startled, my thoughts immediately cutting off as I looked down to where my daughter currently stood before me, crown askew and princess dress on backwards. "Yeah, baby girl?"

It's been a long day and there's still work to do
She's pulling at me, s
aying "Dad, I need you
There's a ball at the castle and I've been invited
And I need to practice my dancing
Oh, please,
Daddy, please?"

Her request stunned me for a moment, and I found I couldn't breathe. Just the way she was looking at me; the way I suddenly realized that this was my daughter, asking me such a simple request - it all slammed into me as if I'd hit the ground after leaping from a cliff.

I remembered the moment Faith was born: how her mother had been gripping my fingers as if I was the only stability in her life all throughout the birth. How she grasped them even harder as our daughter was placed in her arms. How my fingers were practically white as she pulled me to her and whispered words I'd only dreamed of. "Marry me."

I remembered all my baby's birthdays: her first, as she wobbled around with cake on her face and an anxious mother trailing behind her. Her second, as she exclaimed with joy over her gifts and talked up a storm for days afterward about much she loved birthdays. Her third; her fourth; her fifth - all occasions in which I'd wanted desperately to stop her from growing, and simultaneously marveled at the wonder that she was becoming, and had always been.

I remembered every moment of her life, how suddenly it all culminated to us, right here, right now; and it just gave me a glimpse of how fleeting everything had been, and the future would be.

And even with the work looming on my horizon, I couldn't deny her. I smiled softly and stood, picking her up and setting her down again on my toes. Her weight was but a feather against me, and her fingers were miniscule as they curled around my palm. So, so small... She looked up at me and giggled happily, the sound an adorable chorus in my ears as I slowly began rocking us side to side, both of us caught amongst music only we could hear. And everything faded away into that music, into something I never wanted to end. Into the miracle that was my daughter, dancing with me.

So I will dance with Cinderella
While she is here in my arms
'Cause I know something the prince never knew
Oh, I will dance with Cinderella
I don't want to miss even one song
'Cause all too soon the clock will strike midnight
And she'll be gone...

10 years later...

She says he's a nice guy and I'd be impressed
She wants to know if I approve of the dress
She says, "Dad, the prom is just one week away
And I need to practice my dancing
Oh, please,
Daddy, please?"

She sat in front of us, fifteen years of beautiful gazing at her parents. I could envision everything she was thinking behind her pleading facade - oh my God, are they going to let me go? I need to text Chrissy, oh! and see what she's wearing. Ew, I didn't realize that Dad hasn't shaved in a while - while at the same time, focusing only on her appearance. My daughter was beautiful, and I wasn't biased or anything. But that's just it - she was my daughter. And here she was before me, looking all innocent as she calmly and rationally - just like her mother, eh? - explained her plans for...

...Prom Night.

Otherwise known as, every father's worst nightmare.

"Booth, can I...talk to you in the hallway?" I heard a voice asking, as my wife sharply tugged me up and ushered me out of the room. "Faith? Go try on your dress while we have a little...tête-à-tête."

Closing the door to our daughter's bedroom, she rounded on me, hands crossed, expression hard. I knew immediately what that look meant, and prepared for a whispered argument. Well, more like a bickering match. Or something like that.

"Before you say anything, Bones, I just want to let you know...no one says, 'tête-à-tête' anymore."

She glowered at me, lips pursed in a look I was all too familiar with. "Stop trying to take us off road, Booth."


Per usual, she ignored me and continued her rant. "Prom is a coming of age ritual, one she needs to experience. It will signify to the community that she is no longer a girl, but a woman - and Booth, I'm sorry to inform you of this, but that's what she is."

"That does not make me feel better!" I hissed, my own hands coming to rest on my hips, just as the door swung open. Already nose to nose, we swiveled in perfect synchronization, and I almost wished I hadn't turned to look.

For as soon as my eyes met hers, I knew I was lost.

Bones had said it was a defense mechanism, for the offspring to look like their father. So they would not be abandoned in the early stages of their lives. Yet from the moment she lay in my arms, I knew she was my wife's child. Everything about her was pure Bones, and it only made me love her more - the rational, crisp voice of a young, literal girl; the shimmering gaze of an indefinable blue; just, everything. But here, standing before me, was a human who was no longer anyone's child, but someone entirely her own. I wondered when that had happened.


Well, some things never changed.

I swallowed, searching for the words to explain what I was feeling. But, as daughters always seem to do, she saved me.

"Do you like my dress?"

Of course I do. What else can I say to that? My daughter could be dressed in sackcloth and, besides the gorgeous, intelligent woman who'd captured my heart, she'd be the most beautiful thing in the world. "Yeah, sweetheart. It's...nice. Very nice. You really are my little princess." I attempted a cheeky grin through the chokehold of emotion.

Playfully, she tilted her head, and I caught a glimpse of the little, mischievous girl who'd been swept away by the waves of time. Her smile sparkled almost as vibrantly as her eyes as she pulled Temperance and me into the room, letting go of her hands only to flip on her stereo. Turning back, she gave a mocking little curtsy. "Well, how about you help this princess with her dancing then?"

A sudden memory of about ten years ago startled me as it surged out of forgotten places and hit me full force; of when Faith had been anything but what she was now. When little hands had been devoid of polish, and little feet wore beat-up sneakers instead of high heels. And though every father probably goes through the same thing at this time in his daughter's life, the feeling of loss was acute and singular, and I knew I would do anything to hang onto who she had been, and now, who she was.

So I was only too happy to oblige.

So I will dance with Cinderella
While she is here in my arms
'Cause I know something the prince never knew
Oh, I will dance with Cinderella
I don't want to miss even one song
'Cause all too soon the clock will strike midnight
And she'll be gone...

10 years later...

Well, she came home today with a ring on her hand
Just glowing and telling us all they had planned
She says, "Dad, the wedding's still six months away
But I need to practice my dancing
Oh, please,
Daddy, please?"

I could never get used to the silence of the house. With Jonathan finally in college, and Faith and Parker at their own places, it was as if ghosts had taken up residence in the apartment. The eerie quiet sent me tip-toeing through the house as I came home from work, and I kept listening for low, throbbing bass notes coming from under my son's door, or giggles and prattle from within my daughter's. They never came, though, as had been the case for the past weeks - or, if I was being honest with myself, months. It would take a lot, something big, to come to terms with the fact that I was alone.


I smiled at the sudden query, one that seemed to leap from the stillness of our home. Well, not quite alone.

"Yeah, Bones?" I picked up the pace, walking until I reached the living room where she was currently dusting the ceiling fan while perched precariously on a step-stool. I halted, brow furrowed. "What the hell are you doing?" I could never once pinpoint a time where she'd felt the need to be cleaning obsessively when I came home. That was our time, baby.

She didn't cease in her task, instead choosing to direct her words at me as she whisked her arm back and forth across the fan. "Faith is stopping by; she said she had some important news. I don't remember ever hearing her sound so enthusiastic. I thought I would tidy up our home, since she doesn't come home all that often."

"Oh." Hearing the wistful tone in her voice, I softened, while at the same time inflating with happiness at the thought of my little girl - well, not so little anymore - coming back. "Anything I can do to help?" I set down the take-out I'd brought home, thinking maybe we'd do something a little more classy. Of course, on such short notice...

Almost as if the action had been wired to my thoughts, a knock at the door startled us both.

"Well, you could get the door," Brennan (who had elected to keep her name the many years ago we'd gotten married) stated matter-of-factly, and I did as asked.

"Hey, sweetheart!" I practically crowed, showing her in and landing a kiss on the top of her head.

She threw her arms around me, saying hello simultaneously, and we strolled into the living room. Immediately, we were enveloped by another set of arms. So rare was the smile I saw on Temperance's face I wanted to photograph the moment.

Of course, it had nothing on her next expression.

"Okay, I can't wait any longer to tell you," Faith spoke, breathing heavily with excitement. "Mom, Dad... Andy and I are getting married!" Proudly, but with trembling fingers, she shoved out her hand and gave us our first glimpse of the engagement ring.

I wonder how long I stared at it, as Bones' jaw flew open and emulated my own feelings. It really was gorgeous; swirling shades of blue in a hard stone that attempted to match the glorious hues in the eyes of my two favorite women.

Eventually I swallowed, finally cognizant of the fact that Faith was waiting desperately for our reactions.

In a completely, un-Bones-like moment, my wife squealed and wrapped her arms so tightly around our daughter I was sure she would explode.

"Oh, honey, I... this is... I'm so happy for you!" she said honestly, tears already gathering in her eyes.

"I know, Mom. I am too. I mean, we've been dating two years, so it shouldn't be a surprise, but..." she couldn't finish her sentence, and finally, she was forced to turn to me. Faith - Bones had never believed in it until the day it saw us through the birth of our first child, and it had only seemed fitting we call afore-mentioned baby the same, as a testament to everything we'd been through, and everything we go through. This, now, was a test of my faith in Faith. I saw within her gaze all the things that she wanted, all that she hoped I would say. Approval, success, were what she wanted - just like her mother - and I couldn't disappoint her, because she'd never disappointed me.

"Andy, huh?" I said, and a grin broke out on her face, and I knew she knew that it was my way of saying well done.

We all made our way to the couch, Faith effusing her joy as she trailed on and on about everything and nothing, us parents content to listen in wonder.

As the night wore on, the talking lessened. But the last thing she said struck me the most. It was nearly midnight, and our eyelids, the old fogies we were, had been starting to droop. We had been discussing the wedding, and our thoughts turned to the reception afterwards.

"You know, I've never been good at dancing. And Andy is very good..."

Bones yawned. "That's my fault. I'm afraid you inherited an uneven iliac crest."

I was seized by a sudden urge. All this talk of weddings, and new homes and new lives, simply made me realize how wonderful the old life had been. And although maybe Faith was beginning again, there were some things that could carry over from old to new, right?

I stood up, then turned and offered my hand to my bewildered daughter, who laughed and stood upon hearing my words.

"Well, practice does make perfect you know..."

So I will dance with Cinderella
While she is here in my arms
'Cause I know something the prince never knew
Oh, I will dance with Cinderella
I don't want to miss even one song
'Cause all too soon the clock will strike midnight...

6 months later...

And she'll be gone...

I placed a kiss on her head, reveling in the softness of her hair as she pulled away, her white dress glimmering around her as the person in it shimmered with happiness, the happiness one can only experience on their wedding day.

"Daddy?" she whispered, and I was certain I was the only one who heard her in the crowded hall of wedding-goers.

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

She hesitated, then slipped her arms around me again, and I knew none of us had the words to say what we should. I never wanted to let her go, because once I did, I knew it would all be over. But as she at last slipped away, my fingers falling around empty air, instead of crying I found myself... smiling. Smiling at the fact that we had these memories, and they were things that would never go away - especially when there were plenty of new ones to be made. We both shared something special, sacred, and no one would be able to take that away from us. A new hand took up the spaces where her fingers had been, and I looked into my wife's face, the both of us sharing a glance filled with meaning.

"What happened to marriage being an antiquated ritual?" I joked softly, my arm falling across her shoulder.

"I met you," she whispered, her words accompanied by a gentle kiss to my cheek.

"And all that other stuff? Babies, living together, the whole shebang?"

"Yeah, that was all... that was very nice, too." We looked around at everything, at everyone, reveling in the beauty of renewal and gladness reverberating around the hall. At this... beginning, one that seemed more a continuation of something wonderful than a whole new start.

"It is," I said quietly, and I found my daughter across the hall, and again our gazes met in a shared smile. "Yes, yes it is."

Aww, sweetness! Yes; if B/B EVER have a baby, I really think they should name her Faith - just, because you know, Brennan doesn't believe in it and never wanted children and then OH BAM! she wants a kid, so, duh, now she believes in Faith. xD It only seems right, right? What's not right is that after I discovered this song and wrote this fic, I found another one by Mark Schultz that is equally cute, entitled, "She Was Watching." Check it out, too. :) Anyway, please review! I have no idea what you, the visitors, think of these pieces if you don't, so I might just...stop writing them... ;)