So, I totally should be doing my summer reading and essays, God only knows how much work I have left in two weeks…
Well, I thought of this, it is unoriginal, but I've been wanting to read some plotless fluff bunny and I haven't found it, so I decided to write it. It took all of ten minutes.
Summary: What's in a name? Drabble.
Bones.
When he gave me that name, God, I absolutely detested it. It was insulting. How could he just put a label on me, call me by an inanimate object rather then my professional name?
No one else dared to call me anything but Dr. Brennan. Well, aside from Angela, but she was my best friend. And even she used some form of 'Brennan.'
What troubles me most is when I started forgetting to say "Don't call me Bones," because I didn't mean it anymore. That annoying nickname he gave me wasn't a way to assert authority or annoy me or whatever his goal was, it was just a nickname… between friends.
Somewhere along the line I started to see Booth as a friend. I started to trust him, confide in him, and he to me.
That was shortlived. We were still friends, but just, something more. I don't really know what was, there's no real name for it. He was more then my best friend. He was my rock. And that name that he gave, that term of endearment, was all I could hold onto when I didn't have an identity.
I was Bones. His Bones. And I guess, I really don't mind being Bones.