So here we go, first fanfic ever! In case you're wondering, I'm really not that good at this: as wonderful as my original ideas may be, I cannot be true to characters which are not mine. Thus, this is probably going to end up being very AU.
Oh yes, and DISCLAIMER: if this really were mine, would I have mentioned in the above paragraph that these are not my characters? I think not. Plus there are many many things I would've changed in the script (e.g. Zach is not a psycho, Vincent Nigel Murray is still alive, and we wouldn't have waited SIX WHOLE YEARS to finally see Booth and Brennan get together).
Stevens Angel, sorry it took me so long to finish this, but you really shouldn't have taken so long to put up the second chapter of 'of reading', so it's my little form of revenge.
There were three things that Temperance Brennan did not like: psychology, pregnancy hormones, and at the moment, Seeley Joseph Booth.
"Booth!" she called, annoyed. She crossed her arms over the bump of her belly, thankful that there was at least one thing she could appreciate about her pregnancy. Shuffling her feet so that they wouldn't swell, she peered around the racks of baby clothing to where Booth was eagerly stuffing a cartful of things. "Booth, we've got to go, we've got a case!"
"Relax, the guy's dead. It's not like he's going to miss us," Booth teased, picking up a pink dress. It was lacy and frivolous and Brennan wouldn't let her daughter wear it in a million years. "Look, don't you think she's going to look precious in this?"
"Don't be ridiculous," Brennan snapped, mentally cursing Booth at his ability to get under her skin- and somehow, into her heart. "Although we can assume she will inherit traits from both of us, there is no way for us to know exactly what trait she will inherit from whom. Therefore, we cannot assume our daughter is going to look nice in that!"
"Precious, Bones," Booth muttered, trying to find the tag on the dress, "the word I used is precious. 'Nice' will not even begin to describe how beautiful our little girl is going to be."
Brennan let out an exaggerated sigh, shifting her weight again. "Booth, we can argue about this later. We have work to do. Plus, you are the one who complained about the price of our house. How can you refuse to pay less than 50% for our house but be perfectly fine with spending hundreds of dollars on clothes which we don't even know will look good on our daughter?"
Booth huffed, shuffling through a pile of socks and trying to find a pair that matched. "Everything will look good on our girl. I'll make it look good."
"Booth, you can't make something look good on her! Physical traits and appearances must be taken into consideration before you factor in clothing, not-" she huffed as Booth pretended to check how a child's skirt would look on her – "not after."
"Bones, Bones, Bones," Booth chanted, shaking his head with a small smirk on his lips. "Look, okay, I'm just going to pay for this stuff and then we can go look at the dead guy in the pond-"
"The deceased was found in a lake, not a pond. There is a difference, you know."
"Whatever, Bones," he teased. "Let's go, babe."
"Don't call me-"
"I know, I know. But think of it this way." Booth pushed the full cart into a corner, then wrapped an arm protectively around Brennan, spreading his fingers over the side of her large belly, "you used to hate it when I called you 'Bones', maybe one day..."
"No, I'd much rather you called me Bones." Brennan let Booth pull her towards the door, absentmindedly picking on the zipper of her jacket. "'Babe' is a commonly used nickname which can often suggest a predetermined opinion made solely on appearance. It's not very specific. 'Bones' is a name you picked out specifically for me after learning more about me. It's more...unique."
"Yeah, yeah," Booth teased, his smirk widening. His arm tightened around her, pulling her closer to his side before steering her out of the store. The mall was jam-packed with shoppers who walked eagerly from one store to another, arms heavy with already-filled bags. Brennan couldn't help but notice how the crowd seemed to part around her, and a pregnant glow rose to her skin. It was hard to decide whether she considered this to be annoying, due to the fact that she was pregnant and not crippled; or whether she considered this to be beneficial, due to the fact that it was much easier to navigate through the crowded corridors when the others were cooperating with her.
"Damn it," Booth muttered behind her, his voice only barely reaching her ears. "I forgot, I need to buy a new tie." His hand slipped from her belly to the small of her back, giving her a small nudge before turning back and shouldering his way through the crowd.
Brennan, shocked, turned around. Her pregnancy and the crowd made her slower, though; by the time she managed to turn herself and her belly 180 degrees, Booth was only recognizable by the wide expanse of his shoulders covered in the black fabric of his suit. "Booth, you have a million ties already," she called, hoping desperately that he'd turn around. Damn these hormones, I shouldn't be feeling this needy. "Booth!"
She let out a huff, stomping her left foot as her hormones swished her to a new emotion: anger. She winced as her feet complained, tired of holding up her entire body weight for an hour of watching Booth looking through clothes she'd known he wouldn't buy. Her breath whooshed out of her again, and she spun on her heel, not thinking about the consequences.
Because oh, there were consequences. A small shockwave of dull pain spread through her belly as she ran into someone, followed closely by a wave of dizziness. Rationality kicked in, and she spread her legs and arms to keep from falling.
"Sorry, sorry, sorry!" a voice chanted, over and over, as Brennan tried to clear the blur which was her vision. A shape began to form in front of her: two thin lines (legs wearing black pants); even thinner lines (stiletto heels) below them; a white blob (a shirt?); long blonde hair swishing in front of her face.
Brennan blinked a couple more times, focused on gathering her balance. So focused, in fact, that she didn't notice the sharp intake of breath that the person in front of her took, the hand that fluttered to her chest. So focused, she didn't notice the small step back that the person took away from her, the suddenly nervous atmosphere which replaced the previous apologetic one. So focused, she didn't notice the way the person's eyes flickered to the wide shoulders walking away from them, the black of the suit covering them still distinctive even in the crowd.
Another couple of breaths, another couple of blinks, and the world righted itself again. The dull roar of the crowd started up in her ears again, the stifling heat pulled a blush out of her skin, fabric rustled against her sleeves as the crowd moved around her, parting to adapt to her presence. The world cleared and sharpened, and the figure in front of her suddenly became horrifyingly clear.
Long, wavy blonde hair. Thin, high eyebrows. Light blue eyes which had carefully observed Brennan a million times over, forcing a bitter wave of contempt, anger, and bile up her throat every time.
"Hannah."
Short but (hopefully) sweet, that's just how I roll.
I'll try not to keep you guys hanging for too long. Unfortunately, I'm currently hanging myself...I really have no idea where to go with this story.
Reviews, please; I'll be waiting with fingers crossed!
*speaknowbeloud