A/N: I was watching some early episodes including the first Christmas episode when Booth created the bird as his gift for Dr. Goodman. The same afternoon, I caught the episode on tv when he sculpts the horse. Those two episodes led to this..
~This was supposed to be one part - but the initial chapter, led me to write at least one more - that being said, each chapter will be a complete story
~I don't own Bones.
Brennan walked through the door after a long day of work to see her family seated around the table in the kitchen. Tossing keys into their appropriate space and setting her bag next to the door, Brennan smiled to see her family happily engaged in an educational activity.
Booth would probably disagree with Play-Doh being educational, but Brennan knew the substance was great for building fine motor skills and encouraging creativity.
Approaching her family, Brennan studied the various colors and shapes scattered across the surface. Though her glance was casual, it missed nothing and she was drawn to what was sitting in front of her husband.
"That's amazing, Booth!" Brennan exclaimed as she came toward him. Booth was doing his best to keep the Play-Doh on the table, and his children's fingers out of their mouths.
In front of Hank and Christine were the typical creations of children, badly formed snowmen and something that may have been a pig or a cow. There was also a red shape, Brennan guessed was a bowl, with small round balls of multi-colored clay inside.
"Look at my bowl of cereal," Christine exclaimed, verifying her mother's assumption. Christine picked up the bowl, pretending to eat what she'd made.
"Away from your mouth," Booth said distractedly, watching Brennan. He suddenly felt ridiculously shy and fought the urge to hide what was in front of him behind his hands.
What was there was entirely different from that of his children. It was what had drawn her attention to begin with. His creations were clearly the animals they represented, encompassing everything from an elephant to a miniature monkey hanging from a tree.
All created in the garishly bright colors of a children's toy.
Booth shrugged, clearly self-conscious with her initial praise. "They turned out okay," he said, downplaying what he'd done. "There were some other ones, but Hank really likes to flatten them." A loving smile graced his lips as he looked at his youngest son.
Hearing his name, Hank flashed a happy smile at his parents, reaching for another one of Booth's creations.
"How about this one," Brennan redirected him, drawing his attention to a snowman in front of him. Hank let out a delighted giggle and flattened it enthusiastically.
"It's okay if he destroys mine, Bones," Booth said. He almost wished they'd all been destroyed before Brennan walked through the door. "They'll just get ruined when we put all of this away."
"I want to look at them," Brennan said, picking up the elephant. The ears and trunk were expertly rendered and she was amazed at what she was looking at. "Why didn't I know you could do this?" she asked, genuinely curious. Why would he hide such an impressive talent from her?
He hadn't hidden it, not exactly, but he did keep this part of himself very private. A soldier and an officer had to have a certain image, he had a certain image that he wanted to maintain and this had just never seemed to fit.
Taking the sculpture from her, Booth turned in carefully in his hand. Play-Doh wasn't the most stable material to create things with. "You saw the horse I made when we went on that double date with Sweets and his girlfriend at the time. The one who liked tropical fish."
"Brilliant cobalt blue," Brennan said, picking up the monkey and tree to look at. Despite her careful handling, the tree began to lose its shape, bending under the weight of the animal attached to it.
Booth gave her a funny look. "That Play-Doh is green, Bones."
"What? Oh, yes, it is. That was what Sweets' girlfriend said to me after the date. She was a brilliant cobalt blue and Sweets was pale, more like a robin's egg blue."
"Ouch," Booth muttered, thinking fondly of Sweets for a moment. Booth couldn't remember much about Sweets' date that night, just that it hadn't turned out the way he had hoped. Bowling after had been fun, though. "Anyway, you saw the horse I created."
"Yes, I remember it. I also recall a rather interesting fight you started with the clay not long after that. You told me you'd never done it before, and I didn't think about it much after that night." Setting the tree back down, Brennan watched it slowly tip over, her expression amused. Christine took the opportunity to smash it flat with a fist. "Come on, guys," she said, scooping Hank from his chair. "Let's go wash our hands while dad picks this up."
Booth looked at the mess on the table and sighed. He was pretty sure Bones was getting the better deal here. "Don't you want to hear my story?" Booth asked.
Sending her husband a fond look, Brennan ushered the kids toward the bathroom. "Of course, I want to hear it. But later, when we're alone."
Nodding, Booth began to gather up the various colors and put them back into their respective containers. The green elephant was studied with amused eyes, before he carefully placed it on the windowsill, to see if he could get it to dry.
The rest he flattened with a fist, just as happily as his son had only moments before.
Brennan handed Booth a glass of wine before settling next to him on the couch. She sipped it slowly, enjoying the opportunity to relax with her husband.
"So," she said. "Tell me about this hidden talent you have."
"I wouldn't call it hidden," Booth disagreed. "I just don't get much chance to use it in my line of work."
"Have you ever used it?" she asked. Brennan knew there were many things her husband didn't share with outsiders. There were times he kept things hidden from her. Brennan knew he carried secrets, things he'd done for the Army, in his past, that he wasn't comfortable or able to share. But surely this couldn't be one of them.
Booth shrugged. "Once or twice after I enlisted. Not much since then. I was focused on other things. My skills on the gun range, training for the FBI, chasing you," he teased.
She elbowed him good-naturedly. "Did Pops know?"
"Yeah, Pops knew. So did my dad, but he wasn't quite as accepting of it as Pops was. My dad thought skills like that were inappropriate for a guy."
Taking a sip of wine, Booth allowed himself to think back to a time he didn't always want to remember. "I made some sort of ceramic thing for my mother. I was so pleased with it. Brought it home, gave it to her. She acted like it was the greatest gift she'd ever received."
"I'm sure she was proud of you," Brennan reassured him, having a feeling he was downplaying exactly what he'd made.
"Yeah," Booth agreed. Reaching over, he took her hand. "Dad smashed it in a drunken rage a few days later. Said no son of his was going to be an artist."
Squeezing his hand tight, Brennan sighed. "That must have been hard for you."
"I didn't bring another project home again," Booth said quickly, trying to move past the uncomfortable memory. "In fact, I almost failed art in high school because I refused to complete any of the work. I didn't want anyone to know, after what happened with my father," he explained, taking a healthy swallow of wine. "I didn't want to be an artist; he shouldn't have been concerned about that. I was more worried about how to avoid his fists, not on what I should do with my future. I managed to pass the class the last quarter thanks to the teacher."
Brennan understood what it was like to hide a part of yourself to protect the rest of you. "But you said Pops knew. So at some point, you must have given yourself away, even if you were trying to hide it."
"He caught me. In my room one night," Booth said, his eyes growing distant as he thought back. "I think Pops thought I was doing drugs or something. I'd borrowed some clay from school, little bit here, little bit there, not enough so that anyone noticed it was missing."
"Borrowed?" Brennan asked, shooting him an amused glance. "I think that was theft, Booth."
He laughed. "There's no thinking to it, Bones. It was totally theft. I sent that art teacher a ten pound box of clay when I was in the Army. Figured that would make up for it."
Taking her glass from her hand, Booth set it on the table and pulled her against him. "I knew Pops would be angry about the clay and he wasn't happy. Made me take it all back the next day. It was kind of embarrassing to walk into school returning stolen art supplies. Thank goodness I could hide it in my bag. Didn't want to ruin my reputation."
"But you sent the art teacher a box of clay anyway? Why?" Brennan asked. She snuggled in closer to Booth, content to listen to him tell his story. They had so few opportunities for moments like this anymore.
"She took a look at what I brought her and sent me back home with it. Told me to keep it. She was a good woman."
Booth wondered if she was still alive. That woman had saved his future. The letter he'd sent with the clay didn't seem like enough.
"Anyway, when I got home that afternoon with the clay, there was a box waiting for me on the table. Pops had gone out and bought me a whole ton of supplies. Clay, paper, books on drawing and origami. Everything I had ever wanted. Things I didn't know I might want. Told me it was okay to keep what I was doing private, lots of people do things they don't share. But that I shouldn't be embarrassed because I was good at something, and I should never steal to get something I want."
"Pops was a good man," Brennan said. She ran her hand down in his arm gently while he spoke.
"Yeah," Booth agreed, his voice suddenly thick. Clearing it, Booth shook his head. "So that's what I did. When I was really stressed, or needed to think, I had an outlet that didn't involve getting into fights or other trouble. Eventually that outlet was taken over by gambling, but for a time, the art was enough."
"I saw the bird you made for Dr. Goodman, that first Christmas we were locked in together. It was really very good. He still has it in his office."
Her praise shouldn't have meant so much to him, but it did. "I didn't know you were aware of what we gave each other that day."
She nodded slowly. "I watched. I paid attention to how everyone acted. So happy to be giving gifts. No matter what way I analyzed it later, it sure didn't seem like people attempting to exert dominance over each other."
"My creation exerted dominance over everyone," Booth declared.
"I'd like to hear where you learned to make it," Brennan said, ignoring his bragging.
"I learned a little of that from the book Pops gave me. I learned a lot more from a fellow soldier when I was stationed overseas. He tried to teach a whole bunch of us, but I was the only one who really caught on. There isn't always a lot to do, a lot of supplies available, depending on where you're stationed, but you can usually find paper somewhere."
"But you still act embarrassed, are shy about it." Brennan pointed out. "You don't make anything, show it off to anyone. Even me. Other than the horse."
Booth snorted. "That had nothing to do with showing off, not really."
Brennan lifted an eyebrow.
"Okay," he admitted, "maybe a little. But Sweets was always poking and prodding at things that were none of his business. I enjoyed showing him up once in a while."
"We certainly did make life difficult for him at times," Brennan said with a fond laugh. "I find myself missing that sometimes."
"And I'm not embarrassed by it," Booth argued. "It's just private. Something that's mine. I like to have something that's just mine. No pressure to do it well or to do it at all. If I have need of it, it's just there. That's good enough for me."
"Besides," he continued, giving her a hug, "I have you and the kids now. I don't need that outlet like I used to."
Moving away from him, Brennan grabbed the glasses, washing and drying them in the kitchen. While there, her eyes were drawn to the green elephant, patiently trying to dry.
"You saved the elephant, Booth?" she called back to him. "Why the elephant?"
He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. "I'm hoping he'll dry so I can give him to you."
"To me?" she asked. "Why an elephant?"
"They're supposed to be the smartest animal, right? The smartest animal I know for the smartest woman I know," he explained. Warm lips were pressed to the back of her neck, making her hum in appreciation.
"Elephants have demonstrated complex cooperation skills, much like humans," Brennan said, her voice a little breathless as Booth continued to move his lips around her neck.
"I think," he said before kissing her again. "We can demonstrate some cooperation ourselves if you're interested."
"I'm interested," she said, pulling away to open the refrigerator and grab something inside. Turning, she waved the bottle of chocolate syrup at him. "Is drawing one of your abilities?"
Grabbing the bottle from her, Booth backed her into the fridge for another scorching kiss. "I'm sure I can create something we'll both enjoy."
She smiled, taking his hand to pull him behind her. "I'm counting on it."