Here's some random, Bones fluff to make this hiatus go a little quicker. Enjoy!
—
"Booth, dogs aren't blue."
"The baby doesn't know that," he told her, purposefully matching her overly logical, squinty tone.
"Exactly," she said. "It's misleading. If you insist on buying our child useless toys, they have to be factually correct."
"Stuffed dogs aren't useless!" he cried, brandishing the dog in her face. "They're …nice."
" 'Nice' is an extremely vague adjective."
"Fine," he said. "How about cuddly, comforting, and…friendly?"
"Friendly?" she repeated doubtfully.
He grinned. "Man's best friend, Bones."
She sighed. "Alright. You can get the dog. But from now on, all stuffed animals must be correctly colored and proportioned."
"C'mon, that bunny was cool!"
"Its feet and ears were extremely out of proportion with the rest of its features."
"Yeah, but it was cute," he said, knowing the word would wrangle her.
She scowled. "If you have your way, our child will grow up believing dogs are blue and rabbits have ears that are four times as tall as its body."
"Naw, that won't happen," he said easily. "I mean, her first word'll probably 'metacarpal' or 'clavicle' or some other horribly squinty thing."
She smiled at the thought. "You think?"
"Oh, yeah," he said, grinning at the slightly glazed-over, daydreamy look on her face. "With you as its mother and the rest of the squints for aunts and uncles? Oh, man. She'll be on squint overload. I have taken it upon myself to make sure there's some magic in her life, too."
"Science can be magical," she pointed out, turning her gaze to his.
He smiled softly and moved into her, wrapping his arms around her waist. "I know, Bones," he murmured.
He pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, before resting his large palm across her rounded belly and bending down to press a kiss there, too. She smiled down at him, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, baby," he murmured softly. "You're gonna be just like your mom, aren't you?"
"Actually," she said. "Infants often bear a strong resemblance to their father."
He straightened and returned his hands to her waist, smiling at her indulgently. "I'm sure there's a very logical, scientific explanation for that."
"Yes," she said, nodding. "There is. Evolutionarily speaking, infants who resemble their fathers have an edge. A male will be more likely to care for an infant if the infant looks like him, making it obvious to the male that the child is his offspring."
"Well," Booth said softly. "I hope our baby looks just like you."
"Why?" she asked curiously.
"Because you're beautiful," he told her. "And I love you."
She smiled at his response, the faintest hint of a blush blooming in her cheeks. "So you wouldn't leave just because the baby didn't bear a strong resemblance to you?"
Her tone was conversational, but he knew better than to take the question lightly. "No way, Bones," he assured her and saw the way her eyes brightened slightly, the corners of her mouth quirking upwards in pleasure. "I'm here. I'm staying. No matter what."
Her smile grew. She leaned forward and kissed him. "Our baby will definitely believe in magic," she told him.
"You think?" he asked.
"Definitely. And I promise not to tell her Santa is a myth until she's at least five years old."
"Aw, Bones," he murmured. "That means a lot to me."
"Microwaves, on the other hand, are a completely different story," she told him definitively.
"But, Bones—"
"Electromagnetic waves are not fairy dust and the ability to cook a potato in under two minutes is not a miracle."
"I think it is," he huffed.
"But our daughter won't," she said.
He let out a long sigh. "Fine. But I still get Santa."
She nodded and pulled out of his arms with one last kiss. "You still get Santa."
"And the bunny," he added, grabbing the stuffed animal from the shelf.
"Booth," she warned.
"C'mon, Bones!" he wheedled, following after her as she pushed their cart towards checkout. "Look how adorable it is!"
"Booth, put the rabbit back."
He sighed tremendously, but tossed it back on the rack. "Santa's still mine, though."
—
I have a feeling Hart Hanson will studiously ignore the fluff-opportunities that this pregnancy has presented us with, so, lucky for you, I have taken it upon myself to take full advantage! You're welcome. And you know what says thank you like nothing else? Chocolate. And…REVIEWS!
