I'm back! :) This is my new story, The Moments in the Memories.
In this story, Brennan and Booth are a couple, and Brennan is four months pregnant.
Disclaimer: This is me, disclaiming the disclaiming disclaimer. I own nothing except six seasons of Bones on DVD.
Chapter One. The Hit on the Head.
Brennan and Booth walked up to the crime scene, both a little bitter that they were forced into working on this Saturday night. The duo had been on their way to a new Italian restaurant when the call came to Booth's cell phone.
Booth had groaned when he read his boss's caller I.D. He had glanced at Brennan and suggested, "Maybe if I just don't answer . . . " He trailed off as Brennan chastised him with her reproving stare.
With a small grumble of a curse on whomever decided to kill this person, Booth flicked his police lights on and sped in the opposite direction of the Italian restaurant.
This was how Dr. Temperance Brennan ended up crouching over a set of remains, dressed in a low cut dress that made Booth want her to himself even more. Booth hovered at the edges of the crime scene, taking statements as he fought to keep his brooding out of his expressions.
Brennan examined the skull, determining the sex, race, and age.
Booth began talking to the only witness, a man who discovered the body in this backstreet alley.
"And I, I was walkin', and he was, was just there!" the nearly toothless man exclaimed. His light blue eyes, set deep in his aged face, wandered around the scene, continuously watching.
Booth straightened his tie and repressed a groan. His only witness was a homeless man who had happened to have stumbled upon the body during his trash can raid. This man could offer no relevant help to the case, especially due to the fact that this man had a large case of paranoia. His blue, wandering eyes reminded Booth of Hodgins in the early days.
Booth gave this man a nod. "Thank you for your time, Mr. . . "
The man realized Booth was waiting for a name, so he quickly blurted, "Smith!"
Booth gave another nod, knowing instantly that this man wouldn't reveal his legal title. "Is there a place I can reach you, in case we have any more questions?"
Mr. Smith pursed his cracked lips before pulling a tattered business card out of his worn-out blue jeans. "I go here on Tuesday nights."
Booth looked down to see a faded ink logo for Al's Bar. "Thanks."
He turned back to Bones as Mr. Smith walked off. "Got anything?"
She glanced at Booth before looking back at the decomposed skull in her hands. "Female, mid-thirties. She was Caucasian. Time of death is roughly three to four weeks ago."
Booth quickly scribbled the information onto his notepad.
"I'll need her back at—"
"The lab," Booth finished for her with a nod.
Brennan straightened from her crouch. "All of the trash will need to go back to Hodgins."
Booth glanced around the narrow, extensively dark and long alley. Only four dumpsters were visible in sight, but the stench hinted that there were more in the darkness; it seemed the entire block stuffed their dumpster into this abandoned alley way. "All of them?"
Brennan looked up at her partner. "Yes."
"The lab's going to be the height of stench for the week," Booth grumbled, noting to himself to stray away from the lab as much as possible. He then turned and ordered the forensics crew to take all of the garbage back to the Jeffersonian.
Brennan began peeling off her latex gloves when she noticed something out of the corner of her eye; something was sticking out from underneath a dumpster, a little farther into the alley than she was already. She walked towards it, forcing her eyes to discern the object.
As she came nearer, she recognized the object to be a partially decomposed hand.
"Booth!" she called, pushing the dumpster off of the corpse.
Booth looked up from the forensics team and jogged over to meet her. He looked down and recognized what Bones was doing. He began to shove the metal with her, making much more progress than she had been making.
With a final shove, they revealed another body, this one wearing more flesh than the last.
Brennan accepted a flashlight from a nearby forensics technician. She pointed the light onto the remains and began speaking what she saw. "Female, Caucasian. Also mid-thirties. She died about ten to fourteen days ago."
Booth pinched the bridge of his nose as he pulled out his cell phone. "Dammit."
"Booth?" Bones questioned his sudden look of melancholy.
"This is looking like the work of a serial killer, Bones," he explained soberly as he walked back towards the first crime scene to report the new information.
The nearby technician began carefully collecting the body, more focused than usual now that the infamously meticulous Dr. Brennan was nearby as they worked.
Brennan sighed as she placed a hand over her growing stomach. Her weekend with Booth had been spoiled, there seemed to be a serial killer on the loose, and she had lately, secretly, been doubting her abilities as a mother. She wanted to hide from the world for a little while, just until these few storms had passed.
Knowing that it was physically improbable and cowardice, she pushed the thoughts aside. Instead, she looked around the alley, pausing when she noticed something else, a little farther down the alley. More despair entered her being. 'Another body?' she assumed, knowing that another corpse would lead to the logical conclusion of a serial killer.
She walked towards the ambivalent object, hoping it was only her imagination. She neared closer to it, farther away from the lights, and pulled out the required flashlight to confirm her assumption. After shining the light on the object, Brennan concluded that this was another body protruding from the back of this dumpster.
She opened her mouth to call out for Booth but was stopped before she could. A sharp pain exploded from the top of her head, causing her to collapse out of the hunched position she had been in.
Her cry of pain was heard by Booth. He looked up instantly, gun drawn. He began running down the alley towards the sound.
A man in his late twenties held a metal pipe in the air, preparing to take another swipe at the unresponsive anthropologist.
Fire sparked in Booth's veins, wishing he could shoot this man here and now. Booth instead forced his mouth to command, "Drop the weapon! NOW!"
The attacker looked to Booth, considering his options. The man's dark eyes flickered towards Booth's steady gun barrel before letting the pipe clatter to the ground.
The police officers stationed at the crime scene had heard the commotion and took the opportunity to force the man onto his knees with his hands on his head.
Booth had no care for the man now. His eyes were trained on Brennan as he knelt down next to her. "Bones!" he called frantically, pulling her limp form into his arms. "Can you here me? Bones?"
He checked for a pulse and breathing, grateful to find both. Booth turned towards a police officer and ordered, "Call for an ambulance!"
Booth's voiced pulled Brennan back into a foggy consciousness. "No, I'm fine," she mumbled.
Booth's mouth burst into a smile as he hugged her close. "Thank God. Are you O.K.?"
Brennan attempted to push herself into a sitting position, but the movement was too much for her. She settled back into Booth's arms, trying to control the pain and spinning surrounding her mind.
"Just stay still, O.K.?" he told her, hoping that this was nothing more than a bruise. He glanced at the top of head and grimaced at the sight. Even in the darkness, the moonlight glinted off of the dark wet substance dripping down Brennan's skull.
"The ambulance is on its way," he encouraged his partner. "Just stay with me."
"I am with you," she pointed out through garbled words, taking Booth's expression too literally.
Booth slightly smirked. 'She's never changed,' he thought to himself.
The ambulance arrived quickly, and the couple sped off to the hospital.
(3 Hours Later)
Booth talked to Brennan's doctor outside of her hospital room. He had left her to rest inside, hoping she would just take it easy for her and the baby's sake.
"We just can't know for certain until the neurologist gets here," Dr. Bielman explained sorrowfully. "Our CAT scanner is down, so it's impossible to say if she has any brain hemorrhaging. Her active responsiveness is a good sign, but head injuries are a tricky thing; they can sneak up on you. Without the neurologist present, we can only assume."
Booth sighed as his hand rubbed over his weary face. "When will the neurologist get here?"
"Tomorrow morning at the earliest," the doctor admitted. A look of irritation flashed across Booth's features, so Dr. Bielman rested his hand on Booth's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Agent Booth. The best we can do is ice her head, give her pain medication, and wait for tomorrow. Shall I set a bed for you to sleep in tonight?"
Brennan appeared at the door of her hospital room, changed back into black dress and out of the hospital gown. "That will be unnecessary, doctor. I will be checking out for the night."
Booth responded with a "No way, Bones" at the same time that Dr. Bielman replied, "I strongly advise against it, Dr. Brennan."
Brennan ignored the doctor altogether, turning to the only person she had to convince that she was alright. "Booth, I feel fine. After all, it's one night; what difference does it make if I spend it sleeping here or at my apartment or in the lab?"
Booth gave her a reproving look for that blow. She knew working would be worse than resting at home, so she used it against him. "Bones—"
"I'll be back first thing tomorrow morning when the neurologist gets her," she interrupted him before he could regain his footing in their conversation. "There's nothing more the doctors can do here tonight." Brennan turned to the doctor again. "Unless your hospital has an EEG or PET scan in supply?"
Dr. Bielman, an aging and bashful man, shifted uncomfortably. "Well, you see, Dr. Brennan, without the neurologist present . . ." He trailed off, hoping he wouldn't have to explain the details of why he couldn't help a patient.
Brennan turned back to Booth, waiting for his side of the argument.
Booth looked between the doctor of the living and the doctor of the dead. He could see Bones's side of the debate, but he felt uncomfortable about taking her away from the hospital without a final verdict.
Brennan saw the hesitation that Booth possessed, so she went in for the kill. "Booth you know how much I dislike hospitals. I would receive a greater amount of rest if I were in a comfortable environment."
Booth continued to reach for a retort but found none. With a sigh, he relented. "Fine, Bones. But we're returning first thing tomorrow morning to see what the neurologist says."
Dr. Bielman sighed. He couldn't force them to stay. "I'll schedule you for an appointment with our head neurologist, Dr. Fidel, for tomorrow morning."
It had been a quiet car ride back to Brennan's apartment. Only when they pulled into the parking structure did Booth attempt a real conversation. "You know, Bones, Washington General isn't that far away . . . They could probably give you a CAT scan . . ."
Brennan opened her car door and stepped out before Booth could begin to drive her in the direction of the hospital. "Booth, it's forty minutes away. We already have an appointment with Dr. Fidel for tomorrow morning."
She turned on her aching feet, sore from being cramped in stilettos for an extended period of time, and walked into the elevator with Booth on her heels.
"I know, Bones, but I can't help but try to get you and Seeley Jr. some more treatment."
The elevator doors closed and Brennan looked up at her partner with an amused expression. "Seeley Jr.? What if our child is female?"
A Seeley Booth smile broke out across his face for the second time that night; he had anticipated this question. "Cecilia."
Brennan's mouth fell into a small smile as the elevator doors broke open. The two stepped out and began walking towards their apartment as Brennan stated, "It seems very logical that an alpha male would attempt to name his offspring after himself. It's a way to assert himself and territorialize his offspring."
Brennan turned the key into her apartment and opened the door as Booth grimaced. "Aw, come one. You make it sound like I'm going to start peeing all over stuff to 'mark my territory.'" He used air quotes for the last bit before closing the door behind him.
Brennan led him to the bedroom, calling, "In most male species, that action is very common."
She sat on the bed and began peeling off her shoes from her throbbing feet. Booth knelt down in front of her, his tie undone and draped around his neck as a part of the remains from tonight's disaster of events.
"Look, I just want you to be safe," Booth corrected their strayed conversation.
"I am safe," Brennan stated.
"I am O.K."
Booth rested his hands on either side of Brennan's four months pregnant belly before kissing it softly. "And our baby to safe and O.K.," he whispered against the fabric of her dress.
Brennan smiled at tender affection Booth was demonstrating. She ran her fingers through his hair and murmured, "They are."
Booth stared at her lovingly, and Brennan returned the look. "I must say that I am feeling a large amount of affection towards you right now, Booth."
He grinned and rose to her eye level. "You love me, Temperance Brennan?"
Brennan grinned back as she slowly laid her back against the bed, her feet remaining grounded on the floor. "Or it's the pain medication."
Booth hovered over her and shrugged. "Or it's love." He pushed away the brown hair that began straying into her face, the face belonging to the one he would do anything for.
Temptation became too much for them by then, and they both leaned in to meet in a kiss. Booth began exploring Brennan's mouth with his own, but then broke the deep kiss to suck at the nape of her neck. Brennan closed her eyes and enjoyed the sensations he was arousing. A few moments later, Booth set a line of fire back up her neck as he kissed his way back to her mouth again.
After a few more moments, the couple began to pull at one another's clothing. Booth's tie began to fall to the floor, followed next by his black coat. But when Booth began pulling at the hems of Brennan's dress, her hands gently stopped his roaming ones.
"Not tonight," she reminded him through labored breathing. "The doctor said no physical activity until we talk to the neurologist."
Booth released her dress reluctantly and fell onto the bed beside her. "Right."
They both laid there for a few moments, catching their breath as they envisioned cold showers.
After they performed their nightly routines, Brennan crawled into bed and laid on her side, quickly followed by her love and partner. Booth wrapped his arms around his love and kissed her cheek before settling next to her.
The couple laid in silence, collecting their scattered thoughts for the day. Well, at least Booth was. Brennan's thoughts were on something else altogether.
"Do you think I'm going to be a good mom?" she whispered the dreaded words. They had been haunting her ever since she found out that she was pregnant, threatening to reveal that she could never possess motherly qualities.
The question took the exhausted Booth by surprise. "What? You're gonna be a great mom, Bones! Why would you even doubt that?"
Brennan, still turned away from Booth's sight, wiped a tear that had leaked out of the corner of her eyes. "What if they don't like me?"
"Woah, Bones. If there's one thing—O.K., two things—I know in this world, it's that you'll be a great mom to a kid that will love you."
Although logically Booth's reassurances should have no effect on Brennan, they comforted her. They were words that she needed to hear, and it was the love of her life that had spoken them. Despite all that had happened that day, it felt like everything in her life was golden at that very moment, that everything was right.
"What's the other thing?" she asked drowsily.
Booth leaned in closer to her ear and whispered, "That I love you."
His words were overused and the very definition of cliché, but Brennan felt the love radiating all the same.
"I love you, too," she whispered back. She gently placed a hand over abdomen, Booth's hand following hers. Together, they held the life they had created under the very palms of their hands. "And we love you," she whispered to the growing baby.
Booth kissed her cheek again as the drowsiness overwhelmed them both.
In that moment, life was bliss. Life was all they strived for it to be. Perhaps their complete and utter happiness was what caused their lives to change. Brennan might have applied it to Newton's third law: every object in a state of uniform motion tends to remain in that state of motion unless an external force is applied to it. Booth would have called that external force Fate.
Well, I hope you enjoyed it! This was the fluff that I love to help me through the hard times in the rest of the story. ;) (Which will begin in the next chapter.) The circumstances of the story may be a tad unrealistic, but, hey, it is fiction. Why not create something with it? :) I will attempt to make this story as realistic as possible though. (No red, sparkly dragons will come flying in to have a tea party with Angela, I swear.)
Thanks for reading, and I apologize if anything is inaccurate, grammatically incorrect, offensive, or plain just too unrealistic. It was, indeed, mine own doing.
All responses are greatly welcomed! I'm a little wary on if anyone likes it, so I want some responses to know if I should continue posting. (Sorry, I sound desperate for reviews, but I'm honestly just unsure.)