No Matter What Distress
"No, Bones, just wait a minute, okay?"
She frowned at him, an expression he was used to seeing in the lab but rarely saw in their private time together. It seemed out of place with the beautiful gown and elaborate updo she was wearing for this museum opening.
Booth got out of the car, straightening his jacket. They'd been to a few museum openings together, but this was the first time they were together. It felt so different that it seemed like everybody should be noticing.
He grinned as he walked around to the other side of the car. She looked like she wantedto rol her eyes at him.
He opened the door for her and offered his hand to help her out. She grudgingly accepted.
"Why do you hate it when I open the car door for you?" he asked after she'd shaken out her skirts and they were strolling up the red carpet.
"It's an archaic convention based on the misogynistic concept that a woman is too weak to open a door for herself or be unaccompanied in public, so she should wait until the man collects her," she declared.
A few years ago he would have felt chastised, but he'd learned that usually she answered his question literally, and did not mean it as criticism on him.
"I do, however," she took a deep breath, "recognise that you intend it as a thoughtful gesture and not as a reflections on my abilities as a woman. I can... appreciate the sentiment of opening a door for someone... it just makes me feel like an idiot to sit there in the car waiting for someone to open the door for me."
He chuckled. Put like that he could understand. Opening a door for someone when that fit in the flow of things was fine, and she'd never objected to that, and done it for him sometimes. But being told to stay and wait until someone else did something you were perfectly capable of doing yourself... he could see how that would feel weird.
She turned toward him, smiled a smile that had been close by a lot, of late. Warm. Laughter in her eyes.
"Even though I prefer to open my own car door, I still think of you as my knight in gleaming FBI-issue armour."
That made him laugh softly, and he ghosted his hands over her face, mindful of the carefully applied makeup. Wanted to dig his fingers into her hair, but didn't want to ruin the elegant way she'd styled it. Settled for gently cradling her jaw, brushing the softest, gentlest kiss against her lips.
"Well, not every knight has a lady who can beat up her own black knights, you know. It takes some getting used to-"
"-if you're going to use the word 'damsel' next..." she interrupted with a wicked gleam in her eyes.
"In all the time I've known you, you've not been damsel-like at all - no matter what distress."
This was a little one-shot after I noticed the tendency in fanfic for Booth to open the car doors for Brennan. While I can believe he might want to, there's just no way in hell I can see her sitting there waiting until he's walked around to open the door!