I was rereading my good friend Mali's Bear Buddy's Little Moments series, and when I got to Chapter 30, titled Unanswered Prayers… it somehow inspired this little ditty. Cause my mind is just that twisted. : )

Let me state this EMPHATICALLY- if you are easily offended, this may not be the story for you. If there is a God, and he lacks a sufficient sense of humor, I realize I may have a very warm eternity awaiting me (for this and many, many other things). That doesn't mean I want to be scolded by anyone here on Earth that can't recognize satire when it's presented to them.

Shout out to the amazing Angiebc, a devout Catholic who called this story in a pre-posting read both "humorous" and "pretty cute," hence absolving me of some of my "offending" concern.

Summary: Angela, Sweets, Gordon-Gordon, Cam, Jared, Hank, a psychic, a cartoon baby, a ghost and many more have tried and failed to give Booth the proper push he needs to be confident yet patient when it comes to Brennan. What if his "higher power" finally said "enough's enough" and pulled him in for a little chat when the opportunity presented itself? I mean, really… out of all the people the show has brought on to "show Booth the way," I don't think this scenario seems that farfetched. One word: Stewie.

Disclaimer: I own 206 Bones, and none of them are associated with Hart Hanson.



"Nope, I can't help you."

"I don't understand. I've tried to be a good man, served my country, I spend my life catching bad guys and being the best father to my son I know how. I go to church when I can; I praise your name and keep my faith even in the hardest of times. My mom always said prayer shouldn't be a list of things I want, but this is one of those things, one of those times, when I really need you on my side. To come through and help me overcome this, this… thing."

"I'm sorry, son, that's just not something I can do in this situation. The heart chooses who it chooses and yours has definitely chosen."

"But I promised her I'd move on. And it's getting so much harder to do."

"That's what she said."

"Seriously? Are you allowed to make those kinds of jokes?"

"Creator of the universe, baby. I make everything."

"Fair enough… I guess," Booth responded skeptically.

"Seeley, why are you trying so hard to get over the one woman who loves you most when you should be trying to get under her?"

"What's up with the dirty jokes? Is this what I can expect of Heaven, M-rated Improv at the Pearly Gates?"

"Have you seen what goes on down there?" He said, pointing to the cloudy floor below them. "If I didn't have a sense of humor about things, I'd just be really depressed about the state of the universe. And when I get depressed, shit goes down."

"Seriously? You can't swear, either!" Booth exclaimed exasperatedly.

"Almighty being. Try and stop me."

Booth runs a hand through his hair in frustration. "Good Lord…" he muttered under his breath.

"Yes?" He asks with a cheeky grin. Booth rolls his eyes, and gets a look that makes him think that eye rolling isn't the proper response. Booth nods penitently to indicate He should continue and he'll listen.

"Seeley, getting over her is a bad idea. A terrible idea actually. You've tried and look how badly that's gone for you. I mean… sex under a fruit-bearing tree. For such a religious man, you seemed to have forgotten all about the first chapter of my best-selling novel."

"Novel? You mean… The Bible." Booth asked exasperatedly.

"That's the one. Best seller for centuries. No asterisk though. No one even comes close to competing," He said with a bit of pride (He knows it's a sin, but nobody's perfect).

"Nobody's come close because it's The Bible. And you called it a novel?"

"Yeah, technically. I had a hand in the first drafts. It's all based on a true story, believe me, but there's been some stuff that overtime has become, well… slanted. People have put there own spin on it over the years, so you can't necessarily take the whole thing at face value. So… yeah, it's like a novel now. A best-selling novel, mind you, but that's not the point. Back to my book… the first chapter, Eve, the garden, the apple, the temptation leading one astray. I mean, really, you think cause it was a fig tree, it's a totally different situation? Hardly. It's a fruit tree. With forbidden fruit to tempt you astray. And it worked. Sometimes, you people just don't pay attention..." He said, shaking His head.

"God, my head hurts," Booth said, rubbing his temples.

"Why are you telling me?" He asked nonchalantly.

"I… I wasn't, it's just an expression. Geez, talking to you is like talking to Bones."

"Ah, yes, the topic of our discussion. Temperance Brennan." He paused for a moment, looking away from Booth thoughtfully. Then he chuckled. "Yeah, I did good with her."


"What's up with your use of the word 'seriously'? This isn't an episode of Grey's Anatomy. New word, please. Now, as I was saying, I did good work, creating that woman, though she'd never acknowledge it. But that's okay. I like her spunk. And you're being all whiny about what a good man you are and how you think that means you deserve a good woman. And I'm not disagreeing with you. Which is why I'm ignoring your request, your prayers to help you get over her. If you really wanted to get over her, you would. You know, freewill and all... But why do so? You've got a good woman, there for the taking who loves you. You throw that away and I don't know that I can help you move past that."

"But she doesn't believe in loving someone forever or marriage. I mean… how can you, of all people, be encouraging me to pursue a woman who doesn't want to get married?"

"You're looking at marriage the wrong way, Seeley. First, forever on Earth is a false constraint. It's not possible. One day, I'm bringing you up here, which, by the way, is not today, so I'll be sending you back there in a minute to continue on with your day. And since Temperance doesn't believe that there's a Heaven, she's not going to promise to love you forever, cause she doesn't know if anything comes after death, if there is a forever. So, don't fault her for not wanting to lie to you based on what she knows.

"Second, you guys down there are way too big into ceremony kicking off a marriage of two people, two souls. You all think that rice and the hokey pokey will help you seal the deal. That's not the way it works. You commit yourself to that woman, wholly, as she's already done in terms of her heart and you'll have a more committed relationship than most people can claim to have, even some of the ones who engage in holy pomp and circumstance. If you love her with everything you have today and you wake up every day going forward and consciously choose to love her each day all over again for as long as I let you stay there, you don't need a ceremony or a piece of paper to hold her to. You'll be joined in my eyes and in the eyes of each other and no one else's opinion really matters."

"What about the importance of the 'binding sacrament' of the wedding ceremony?"

"Dude! I. Am. Giving. You. My permission, my blessing, to go forth and love her, live with her, enjoy your life with her in whatever manner you both agree to. You really want more than that from me?"

"Well… I guess not? But, I mean, are you sure, really, really sure, that she loves me?"

"I'm not gonna lie to you. That fig tree nonsense… that was stupid. Ridiculous. And may I add contrived. You've got your work cut out for you, no doubt, when it comes to your immediate future with her. But doubting that she loves you? Poppycock. Have a little faith, in her, in you and in Me. I've gotten pretty good at this stuff over the years."

"So you're saying that I should, just…?"

"Have a little faith Booth. It's really all I ask of anyone…"


Four days later…


He'd recognize that knock anywhere. He slowed his steps, moments earlier a near skip and paused to collect himself before opening his front door.

"Bones… what's up?" he said as casually as he could manage in an abnormally higher pitch.

"I was thinking about our suspect list and the list of possible weapons Hodgins came up with based on the substance found inside the wound, and I have a couple of theories I wanted to run by you. Which I figured we could go over while eating, if you feel up to it," she said, gesturing from one arm full of files and another grasping a bag of take out.

"I would have met you at the lab if you had called."

"You were shot earlier this week, operated on and heavily sedated for two days, after which you were only released to go home on the promise that you'd rest for a week. You're not allowed to go to the lab or the FBI or the grocery store or anywhere else by yourself until next week. Doctor's orders."

"Actually, my doctor recommended that I go for short walks, get some fresh air a couple times day as I power back up. That kind of stuff I can do on my own."

"You're not allowed to do anything potentially strenuous, for a week, by yourself, on 'this' doctor's orders," she said, pointing to herself. "I strongly dislike this pattern of you nearly dying once a year, so you will stay put and heal fully before you resume your pattern of regularly scaring the hell out of me. Understand?"

"Yes, ma'am," he replied with a mischievous grin. He'd been making notes all week, because as the scientist his better half is would insist, he needed to catalogue a little present-day evidence to justify his faith in their potential future. Dinner, her bossy manner regarding his health, thinking to bring him some work to distract him while on medical leave so he doesn't go stir crazy - it was all just more confirmation that she loved him, in his book.

"Damn. They forgot your rice…" she said, pulling open the Chinese food containers, setting them out on the counter so they could grab their meal. "All we have are noodles."

"That's alright. I don't need the rice."

"But, you love rice. You've complained many times in the many nights we've eaten together that we never order enough rice to create an appropriate rice to sugary sauce and meat concoction ratio. I can run back to the restaurant and get the rice," she said hurriedly, grabbing her coat and keys as she made her way toward his front door.

Booth moved quicker than he should in his condition to intercept her and she gave him a scolding look, but he pressed on and took her coat from her. "Yes, I like rice. Yes, if rice were an option presented to me right now, I would eat the rice. But I don't need the rice to enjoy this meal or satisfy my hunger. All I need, all I really need, is right here. So, let's eat."



Get it. It's not all about rice and the hokey pokey? Sometimes people need it spelled out for them. Most of the time, I'm that person. I don't mind doing it… it's a very Brennanish trait to have, and I find her to be adorable. Do the math. : )

When I attempted the, uh, Voice of God, here, he actually ended up sounding like a mix of Brennan (with the logic) and even more so, Hodgins (especially with the dirty jokes) in my head. And since 'God' is present in Booth's surgery/anesthesia induced dream/hallucination (you decide), I went with it.This is one of those times when I'm going to say, if you don't have something nice to say, there's really no need for you to review. But if you DO have something nice to say, well, by all means… *VannaWhiteGestures to the review button for you

p.s. How's this for a long author's note. *thunkshead*