Title: Costume Change (Or: The Wonder of the Woman)
Author: DianeB
Rating: G
Summary: Bones twirls for her memories and for Booth.
Author's Note: My third Bones fic. A short addition to the S3 episode, "The Mummy in the Maze," and my explanation of why Bones always dresses as Wonder Woman for Halloween. (The question of why Booth doesn't already know, in this third year of the show, shall remain a television mystery.) Written in July, 2010. Undying thanks as always goes to Brenda, my Mighty Editor Goddess.
Disclaimer: I own nothing of Bones. I'm only having fun with a character I love. Errors regarding Brennan are entirely my own. I own nothing of Wonder Woman, either, though I adored Lynda Carter, and I could see where a Lasso of Truth could come in handy. Please forgive liberties taken with the history of Wonder Woman. It's convoluted at best. And just for the record, I don't care for Wonder Woman's brand new comic-book look.
Bones entered the women's restroom with the oversized, worn box in her arms. It was relatively quiet in the Jeffersonian, as most people had already left for the party, so Bones took advantage of the quiet to slip unnoticed into the restroom. She wondered why she bothered; it wasn't like everyone didn't already know what her costume was.
Everyone but one, and it was for this reason Bones waited until the last minute to change. Booth would be there any second, and she wanted to come out of the restroom and surprise him. She felt oddly giddy in this endeavor, toying with the possibility that he wouldn't know who she was supposed to be, but immediately dismissed that idea with a derisive snort. Who was she kidding? Booth had more knowledge of pop culture in his little finger than she had in her entire body.
Except for this one. This one she did know.
Still, as she balanced the box on a chair in the outer lounge, she couldn't deny the adrenaline surge that left her jumpy and wishing she'd eaten more than a container of yogurt for lunch. Carefully removing the lid and lifting off the yellowed tissue paper, she drew the costume from the box and held it up to herself in front of the full-length mirror. It wasn't an exact replica of the costume Carter wore, but it was close enough.
Every year like clockwork, Bones performed this ritual. And every year it reminded Bones of her life in what she had privately come to call before.
oOo oOo oOo
For a while when he was twelve, Russ had been enamored of the superheros in comic books. When he'd come home one day with a comic depicting a strong, dark-haired woman in a stars and stripes outfit, she was herself immediately captivated, even at the tender age of eight.
Research at the local library told her of a television show that had premiered right around the time she'd been born, starring Lynda Carter as Wonder Woman, and had run for three years. She'd desperately wanted to see the episodes, but the technology to do this was just shy of being commercially available, so she had to be satisfied with what she found in books.
Further reading taught her that while the comics were different from the television show with regard to certain details, the strong, smart, capable woman was always the same. Whenever crime needed fighting, Diana Prince (nee Amazon Princess Diana from Paradise Island) would twirl dramatically and transform herself into the greatest American superhero of them all.
The young Tempe Brennan spent every spare moment learning all she could about Wonder Woman, and by the time Halloween rolled around that year, she knew exactly who she wanted to be. She wore the store-bought costume every subsequent year until her body's biological changes prevented it, but the idea of Wonder Woman never left her – not even in her fifteenth year, when everything else left and her life went from before to after.
oOo oOo oOo
Technology eventually advanced enough that it would have been possible to view the episodes, but Bones never sought out the Wonder Woman series in any format. She feared doing so would remind her too much of before, and found it less painful to rely on her memory of those months in the library for her facts about the character. The memories were comforting in a way she knew watching the episodes would never be. If Dr. Sweets ever knew this, he'd have been impressed with her coping techniques – not to mention her logic – but Sweets would never know.
Though her life had evolved a great deal since her time in the system, Bones had never stopped wanting to dress up like Wonder Woman. And so it was that the first opportunity she'd had (in terms of time and money) to have a costume custom made, she did. And from then on, it was Wonder Woman every Halloween.
oOo oOo oOo
Bones blinked and came back to the moment, hearing familiar footfalls at the far end of the corridor. Draping the costume carefully over the back of the chair, she reached quickly to remove the accessories from the box – the boots, the bracelets, the belt, the wig with tiara, the Lasso of Truth (or, as she had learned in the library, the Lariat of Hestia) – setting them out on the lounge's coffee table as if they were specimens from a case – and got to the business of changing. Booth had by this time arrived at the door to the restroom.
"Hey, Bones, you in there?"
"Yes." Bones finished with the pantyhose and then slid the skimpy red, white, and blue outfit up around her torso, pulling and adjusting with practiced ease until it covered and accentuated all the appropriate areas.
"Well, good. That's good."
He didn't sound any different to her, as if she could hear his costume, but she questioned him anyway, if for no other reason than to stall for time. "Don't you have to put on a costume?" She reached for the wig/tiara and placed it carefully over her own pinned-up hair, again tugging with familiarity until it was just right.
"I already did." She heard him tap something against the door. "I got a profile of the killer from Sweets."
She couldn't resist admonishing him, though she was relieved he was focused on the profile, instead of getting her out of the restroom. "You mean Doctor Sweets."
"Well, it's only a theory, Bones. I mean, it's what he's best at. I mean, he's only twelve."
She huffed quietly as she fastened the bracelets. Who was twelve?
"Sweets says the killer is definitely a male."
Leaning over to tug on the boots, the effort lent a grunt to her response. "Uh! Greg is a male."
Booth rejected that in a hurry. "No, no. Greg and Lola worked their sick little thing together."
Now fully dressed, Bones stood in front of the mirror, half-listening as Booth read Sweets' profile out loud. Closing her eyes, she imagined herself still dressed in her work clothes. Extending her arms, Bones began to spin like an Amazon crimefighter and then slow, waiting for the dizziness to pass before opening her eyes.
Diana Prince, Joy Keenan, Temperance Brennan, Wonder Woman. Assuming the stance Lynda Carter had made famous – arms akimbo, shoulders back, one hip cocked for sexual emphasis – Bones froze in place, just as Booth finished the profile. Standing there staring at her reflection, her brain caught up with what Booth had just read and realized the profile sounded an awful lot like Booth himself. Something akin to amusement passed through her as she opened the door to the restroom, saying, "You do realize that Sweets is describing you, right?"
His initial unguarded reaction to seeing her was worth every penny she'd paid for the costume, every pop culture reference she was (and knew she would ever be) ignorant of, every second she'd spent making sure no one told Booth who she was going to be.
"Wow!"
End.
oOo oOo oOo
Wonder Woman, Wonder Woman.
All the world's waiting for you,
And the power you possess.
In your satin tights,
Fighting for your rights,
And the old Red, White, and Blue.
Wonder Woman, Wonder Woman
Now the world is ready for you,
And the wonders you can do.
Make a hawk a dove,
Stop a war with love,
Make a liar tell the truth.
Wonder Woman,
Get us out from under, Wonder Woman.
All our hopes are pinned on you.
And the magic that you do.
Stop a bullet cold,
Make the Axis fall,
Change their minds, and change the world.
Wonder Woman, Wonder Woman.
You're a wonder, Wonder Woman.
- Lyrics by Norman Gimbel and Charles Fox