A/N: I haven't written anything in a while and thought I'd jump back into the saddle with a little bit of fluff.
My thanks to NatesMama for being a great beta who's willing to be honest. Not many of those folks around and they're worth their weight plus more in gold.
It's All About Perspective
Brennan strolled through the baby section of the department store, indulging in a habit she'd developed since becoming pregnant...wondering what their daughter would look like, whose traits she would inherit. Would she have brown eyes or blue? Brennan wondered once again if Booth carried the recessive blue gene. Running through the odds, even though she'd done so several times already, she realized she'd already come to expect their child would develop brown eyes. Thanks to her knowledge of genetics, predicting the child's traits had become Brennan's personal past time as of late.
Normally, the margin of error that existed when making these predictions was acceptable...expected. Statistics had been a source of comfort for years and they allowed her to make intelligent decisions about a great number of things. But the smaller range of the unknown had slowly become Brennan's focus over the course of the past few months. What she found interesting was her reaction to that fact. Rather than being disturbed by the direction of her thoughts, she suddenly found the unpredictable fascinating...exciting, even, if she was honest with herself.
Brennan scanned the variety of infant outfits, drawn to the tiny impractical dresses. Hesitantly, she reached out and let her fingers slide around a hanger. She held the dress up and let her eyes wander across the fabric, imagining what it might look like on their daughter. Her free hand automatically came to rest on her belly.
She smiled, rubbing in gentle circles. She knew it was unnecessary, but she leaned down a little before quietly talking, "Will you like dresses like I usually wear? Or will you prefer the sensible fashions I wear when working on anthropological projects?" Brennan's grin widened, "Or will you adopt your father's habit of wearing old t-shirts?"
Brennan felt the an intense pressure under her rib cage and grunted softly. Gently, she pushed the tiny foot back into a more comfortable position, "I agree, my taste in clothing is far better." She looked longingly at the white dress one more time, imagining hanging it in the closet, then tucked it under her arm to add to the practical purchases she had planned. Before she could question the irrational decision, she heard a voice beside her.
"Oh how cute." Brennan turned to see the eyes of a stranger looking at her. "I used to talk to my boys the same way. You know, the doctors say they can hear you."
Brennan confidently nodded to the older woman. "Yes, I'm aware of that fact."
The woman chuckled. "I'm here to find some things for my new grand baby! Another boy. You're having a girl?"
Brennan wasn't really sure why the woman had engaged her in conversation, but decided to be polite. "Yes, we're having a girl." Her eyebrow quirked slightly when she realized she'd included Booth in that statement. He wasn't having the baby. She was. Yet she'd found herself using the inclusive term more frequently. She made a mental note to evaluate the unconscious change later.
"Oh! A girl! That's so sweet! I wish I could get a girl. Between my sons and grandsons, I think I'm due." She chuckled, "My daughter-in-law doesn't seem to be able to pop out anything but boys. This is her third one. My other son hasn't had any yet. He needs to get a move on. I'm not getting any younger."
Brennan had absolutely no idea how to respond or why the woman found it necessary to share so much information and just stared at her.
"My name's Marci, dear." The woman sighed and smiled wistfully, "Ohhh...it's just so nice that you're having a girl!" The woman's smile widened as she reached out and placed her hand on Brennan's stomach. "When are you due?"
Brennan looked down in confusion at the hand resting against her, then back up to the woman. Why did her stomach act as an invitation for people to touch her? She was beyond frustrated that her gravid state seemed to indicate that she no longer had personal boundaries.
Before she could answer the elderly woman, another woman about the same age walked up. "Marci! There you are. Look what I found...Oh! Hello!" she said to Brennan. Without another word, the woman reached out to place her hand on Brennan's pregnant belly. "You must be having a girl. I can tell by the way you're carrying," she winked.
The woman's statement momentarily distracted Brennan from her irritation. "It's impossible to tell the sex of the fetus by the way it rests in the womb."
The women both looked at each other and laughed as they pulled their hands back. Marci was the first to respond, "Honey, people have been predicting the sex of babies for generations. You really can tell. I agree with Pamela, you're having a girl."
Brennan's confused expression became more severe. "Of course I am. I just told you I was."
Pamela grinned as she spoke up, "See? Every time! I get it right every single time! I wish Marci's kids would have girls. She only seems to get grandsons."
Brennan felt abnormally flabbergasted as she looked between the two women, deciding to use one of Booth's usual tactics when he wished to quickly extricate himself from a situation. "Yes, well, excuse me. I just remembered I have to meet my partner. We have a case and we have a scheduled...I need to leave."
"You're a detective? And you're still working at your stage?" Marci chuckled. "Women aren't doing it the way we used to do it, are they Pam?"
"No, they sure aren't. Didn't realize they had a good thing going, did they? Women just pushed for equal rights and now they work right up until the day they have their babies. Then they just go and jump right back into work as soon as the little munchkins are born."
"When you're right, you're right, Marci. Back in my day, we stayed in bed and let everyone do the work for us. And we stayed in the hospital for a couple of weeks after the baby was born, letting the nurses do all the dirty work for us. We knew how to do it right back then, didn't we?"
Her tsk tsk tsk was the final straw for Brennan. She had no desire to engage these women in a conversation about their antiquated notions or how far women had progressed in the decades since they'd had children.
"I really must go." She didn't give them time to respond before she raced toward the check out counter.
Brennan turned the key in the door and walked into the apartment. She was tired and frustrated. She'd been so anxious to get away from the women in the store, she hadn't made any of the purchases she'd intended to make and all she had to show for her efforts was a frilly dress. She dropped her purse on the floor, too tired to care that she'd have to awkwardly bend over to pick it up eventually.
She heard Booth's voice before she saw him walk around the corner. "Hey, babe. You're back already? I thought...what's wrong?"
Brennan sighed, walking over to place the sack with the dress on the couch. "What do you think is wrong? I'm pregnant. I'm tired. My feet hurt..." She used her heel to push her shoe off and uncharacteristically kicked it next to the wall before doing the same with the other one in an effort to relieve some tension. "...I feel like eating even though I'm not the slightest bit hungry. And...and..."
Booth walked up and placed his hands on her shoulders, grinning as he quickly kissed her. "Hey. You're home now. We'll eat and relax and..." He reached down for her hands and started walking backwards, pulling her with him, trying to tempt her with a wink. "...I made your favorite."
Brennan tried not to smile, but failed, despite her continued ire. She willingly let Booth guide her in the direction of the kitchen, continuing with her earlier complaints a little more calmly. "And those women...they...why do they feel the need to offer advice I've not requested?"
"What women?"
"Every woman who's had a child, Booth. Every one of them. Normally I would concede that as an exaggeration, but I'm beginning to think it's not."
Booth chuckled and turned to put his arm around her shoulder, glancing down to her as they walked. "Seeing you brings back memories for them, Bones. They wanna feel like the lives they lived and what they went through were important. That they have something valuable to share with you."
They stopped at the table Booth had prepared and turned toward each other. Brennan frowned at his explanation when she remembered how the women had touched her without permission. "And why do people think they have a right to..."
Booth's hand snaked out to her stomach, resting it against their child. He'd done this so many times that she was used to it. Had begun to welcome it. Treasure it. She could see the way he adored both her and their child in the way the light sparkled from his eyes. Suddenly, the simple act of someone touching her took on a whole new meaning. Something she'd hated only seconds before had instantaneously become something precious...a connection. A connection between the three of them. Family.
She scowled even though she didn't mean it, "You aren't listening to me, are you?"
He pulled his hand away as he looked at her. "What? Of course I am. You asked why women gave advice. I answered. Then you asked...what was it?" His eyes darted around while he tried to remember.
The corner of his mouth lifted in what she recognized as embarrassment. "Okay. Maybe I wasn't really listening there at the end. I'm sorry, Bones. I just got distracted by how beautiful you and our daughter are." He wagged his eyebrows in an obvious effort to placate her. "What were you going to say?"
She studied him for a moment, coming to a conclusion she'd only just begun to accept. "You love us, don't you?"
"I do. More than you know. More than anything, Bones."
His answer brought a smile to her face and sent a warm feeling flooding through her body. Another reaction she was slowly becoming accustomed to. "It doesn't matter."
Booth did a double take. "What? Of course it matters."
"No. I was referring to what I was saying before. It no longer matters." Her annoyance at the women who'd touched her uninvited had dissipated. "You have an uncanny ability to make me forget about things I find irritating."
She watched him throw all his charm into his smile. "That's a good thing, isn't it?"
"I'm not sure," Brennan scowled, thinking about his statement.
Booth huffed as though she was being ridiculous. "Of course it is."
He turned back toward the oven to pull a dish out. "Has my Little Bones been kicking today?"
She rolled her eyes at his use of yet another nickname, "Of course she has. That's normal behavior, Booth."
"That's my girl!" he said as he set a steaming bowl on the table.
Brennan pulled her chair out and sat down, content to let Booth serve dinner. She grinned and reached for the serving spoon he held out. "Are you referring to me or to your unborn child?"
"I love both my girls!" he winked as he leaned to touch his hand to her belly once again.
Brennan smiled, looking down and placed her hand over his. She could feel the warmth generated by his touch and marveled at how the simple gesture could seem so loving, so important and so welcome compared to her experience earlier in the day.
She slowly looked back up at him, taking comfort in the epiphanies she'd had since they'd been together. "We know you do. And we love you too, Booth."