Set anywhere after Season 2. You know, if I owned them, I might still write fanfic--just to play with people's minds. But alas, I don't, so this is just a random bit of fluffiness.
It was a sweltering day in Washington, DC, and Dr. Temperance Brennan and Special Agent Seeley Booth were both tired and hot and bordering on cranky, since the AC in the SUV had broken down. Though neither would ever admit to being "cranky"!
"Whaddya say we get some ice cream, Bones," he finally suggested, seeing a vendor at the edge of a park they were passing. "My treat."
She fanned herself with the case file. "That actually sounds good. Let's eat it outside, though--the SUV's practically an oven."
He pulled over and parked. "I wish we could go to a real ice cream place," he said wistfully, "but we don't have the time."
She shook her head and adjusted her ponytail. "If the vending machine in the Jeffersonian was currently stocked, I'd say we should just go back there. But it was washed out before lunch."
"Cleaned out," he corrected her automatically. "So what do you want?"
She studied the menu carefully, making sure she stood out of the way of the children lined up to buy the same thing. "A Drumstick."
"I'd've thought you'd gone for the Dove bar at the very least. Two," he told the man at the window. "We'll keep it simple."
He handed her one cone and they found a bench with a tiny amount of shade. She unwrapped it neatly, pulling the paper off in a careful spiral about halfway down. Booth chuckled. "You're one of those. I suppose you unwrap presents carefully, too."
"Of course." Her aquamarine eyes twinkled as she nipped away the chocolate and nuts at the top. "Our society is so 'instant gratification' that no one understands the pleasures of anticipation anymore." Her tongue snaked out and caught a rivulet of melting ice cream, then swirled about the line where the cone met the ice cream.
Booth watched mesmerized, then shook himself free. "Certain things should be enjoyed immediately," he countered. "Your ice cream, for example. It'll melt before you can get it all. Christmas morning and birthday presents are another. Those giving the gifts are eager to see if they have given you what you want. Ripping them open is hardly just an example of instant gratification."
"Oh, I don't know. Few children think of that on Christmas, and childhood is when we set many of our habits. In this case, that's it's all right to rip and tear out of greed." She continued to lick at the cone, somehow managing to stay just ahead of the melt rate.
"But a good parent makes sure a child knows there are limits. That you can't simply grab what you want all the time," he retorted, eyes locked on her mouth. The show she was unknowingly providing was driving him nuts. His imagination went into overdrive, imagining her with something besides ice cream, and his body twitched. "You have to wait for the present to be given before ripping into it."
"We both know that not all parents are good ones. You are; I'm guessing that Rebecca is a good mother to Parker, no matter her relationship with you. My own parents, before they left, were good ones."
That admission made him pause. I don't think I've ever heard her say that!
"At least in regards to us. Their after-hours activities weren't right for anyone, much less parents." She studied the rest of the cone, then tipped the end into her mouth to suck on it briefly and Booth had to use his napkin to stifle a groan. "It really is too bad that we see so many bad or incompetent parents in our line of work. Or at least the results of bad parenting. I almost forget there are good ones, so I'm glad I have you as a reminder," she added before licking the ice cream again. She tipped it back into her mouth, this time to take a bite. "I may not want children, but I can appreciate the labor and admire those who know what they're doing with them."
He yanked his eyes away and looked straight ahead of him. There was a playground near the center of the park and he watched the children playing for a while. His own cone was half gone. "Thanks, Bones. I'm never sure I'm doing a good job with Parker, so that's really nice to hear. Even from a non-expert such as yourself. But are you going to tell me that you never ripped open a present in your life?"
"Maybe when I was 5." He grinned at her and she laughed. "All right. I suppose I ripped more than a few open when I was a little girl. I learned to go slow later, when I rarely got anything, and it was always just one. I had to learn how to…savor the moment. And after that, my grandfather wanted me to save the paper." She bit into the cone and sucked away the melting ice cream behind it.
"Speaking of that, Bones, I've been meaning to ask if you want me to look into your grandfather as well as your aunts." Anything to take his mind--and other parts--off that too-nimble tongue!
"Why?"
"Didn't you ever think about the inconsistencies? You're told you have no other relatives, but your grandfather gets you out of foster care? Mother's father or father's father? I couldn't find anything about him in your file." He was genuinely curious, and it made a great distraction. Her family provided him with headaches on a regular basis. Surely that could curb his burgeoning arousal. Please? he begged to anyone listening.
She frowned.
"Not to mention, if he knew you as Temperance Brennan and not Joy Keenan, then he must have had some knowledge of your parents' activities. At least that there had been a name change."
"I never thought of that part of it." She turned and laid a hand on his knee, making every nerve in his system shrill to alert. So much for distraction!
"Yes, please. Even if you can't get much, you might give me enough detail for me to get a--straight?--answer out of my dad later. Is that right?"
"Absolutely. And glad to do it." He stifled another groan as she turned her attention back to the cone, which had begun to drip over her fingers as they talked. Did she have any idea what she was doing to him? Think about what steps you're going to have to take to do this, he told himself firmly. Recite the multiplication tables or the Steelers' lineup for the last 10 years--anything!
--
Brennan licked her fingers free of the last of the ice cream, then wiped them on the napkin. "I'm done." She stood and held out her hand for his wrapper. "I'll go ahead and toss all of it. That was a good idea, stopping like this, Booth. My treat next time, though."
"Thanks," he ground out, handing her his wrapper and napkin. She swayed over to the receptacle, feeling Booth's eyes on her the whole time, and a wicked grin played over her lips. Wonder what it'll take for him to cross his line? He drew it; it's his to erase. All I can do is indicate my willingness to have it disappear.