James Aubrey and His Babysitting Adventure
This was originally supposed to be just a short one-shot in my series "for you are mine at last" (go read it if you haven't!), but it somehow became this 9.5k monstrosity. So… Yeah. Just a bit of fluff after last night's extremely intense and terrifying s11 finale.
Enjoy!
"Are you sure you're going to be able to handle this, Aubrey?" Booth asks sceptically as he knots his tie and watches the younger agent play Lego's on the floor of their living room with a three-year-old Hank.
"Of course I can," he says confidently. "The kids love me."
"I'm not disputing that. Just saying that looking after three kids can be a pain in the ass when you're alone with them."
Aubrey casually lifts one shoulder in a shrug. "I've done it before. Plus, they've already eaten and it won't be long before they're fast asleep and I can watch a couple of movies until you and Dr. B come home."
"OK. If you're sure."
"1000%," their babysitter asserts with a broad grin.
"Aubrey, I've told you this repeatedly. You cannot have a percentage higher than 100, it simply doesn't exist, so what you're saying is meaningless," comes Brennan's voice as she chastises Aubrey yet again for his hyperbolic tendency.
Booth spins towards her voice and his mouth falls open a little at what he sees. His wife is dressed in something not-de-similar from her Roxie outfit years earlier during their underground boxing case. The black dress is form fitting, accentuating her body in all the right places. It finishes just above the knee and yet her legs go on for days. He lavishes in her appearance, her perfectly curled hair, her beautifully applied make-up, her extremely sexy outfit, wondering how it is that, after all these years, she continues to affect him like she does. You think he'd get used to her beauty, but nope, she manages to blow him away every single time.
Brennan's cheeks pink under his intense gaze. She clears her throat, capturing her awed husband's attention. "What do you think?"
"You look…" His eyes scan her body once more and he shakes his head, disbelieving. "Incredible."
"Yeah?" she says quietly, a sweet smile inking it's way onto her face.
"Yeah," he confirms, stepping towards his Bones. With each step closer, he uses another adjective to describe her. "Amazing. Gorgeous. Perfect. Exquisite. Beautiful."
Brennan closes the distance between them and wraps her arms around his neck. As she leans in to kiss him, she pauses, inches away. She sniffs. "Are you wearing your new cologne?"
"Yeah. You did a good job this year, huh?"
"I really did," she boasts, seconds before he crashes his lips to hers, unable to resist any longer. Her hold on him tightens as she deepens the kiss, both of them forgetting that they're not actually alone. Booth's large hands caress the expanse of her back then gravitate northwards, tangling in her hair. Brennan moans softly, obviously enjoying herself and making Booth smile into the kiss. When they eventually separate, neither of them can take their eyes off each other, their gazes heated. Booth is seriously considering forgoing the dinner with their friends and dragging Brennan straight back to their bedroom when he hears a cough from behind them.
Glancing over his shoulder, he sees Aubrey staring at them, immensely uncomfortable. "Hi," he says, lifting his hand in an awkward wave.
"Hi?"
"You, um-." He points at his own mouth. "You have lipstick…"
"Oh, right," Booth chuckles as Brennan flushes with embarrassment.
Purposefully avoiding Aubrey's eyes, she collects a tissue from the kitchen, dampens it under the faucet and returns to Booth. She dabs at his swollen red lips until the make-up is gone and then throws the tissue into the trash. "All fixed."
"Great," Booth responds, his arm encircling Brennan's waist as he tugs her closer to his side. "Are you ready to go, Bones?"
"I believe so." Then, she shouts for Christine and Michael Vincent who have been playing with the toys in her bedroom all afternoon. The eight and nine year old come running into the living area moments later. "Daddy and I are going now, sweetheart," she informs Christine. "Come, give me a hug."
The not-so-little-anymore girl dives into her mother's arms. "Bye bye, mommy," she says as Brennan peppers kisses all over her face.
Next is Booth's turn. He groans as he lifts her high above his head, while Christine giggles happily. "I'm not going to be able to do this much longer, monkey. You're getting too big!"
"Or you're getting too old," she teases cheekily, laughing loudly as he drops her to the floor with a huff and crosses his muscular arms in front of his chest. "Love you really, dad," she amends, standing on her tippy toes and pouting.
"You better," comes his response, crouching down to her level so she can give him a kiss. He tells her he loves her and that he'll see her in the morning while Brennan says goodbye to their adorable toddler.
"Will you make pancakes?"
"Only if he's not hungover," Aubrey chimes in jokingly.
"What's hungover mean?" Christine and Michael Vincent ask almost simultaneously; Hank is too busy receiving kisses from his mommy to care.
"Nothing." Booth shoots the younger agent a sharp glare. A warning. Do not teach them any inappropriate words. Especially not about him.
"Nothing at all," Aubrey reiterates, ignoring the children's inquisitive expressions before he reveals too much. "Uh, Booth? Won't your cab be here soon?"
Checking his watch, Booth sees Aubrey is right. He steals Hank from Brennan for a quick hug and some kisses, then lowers him to the floor where he stumbles back over to his Lego's, evidently more interested in building the highest tower he can (then happily knocking it over) than the fact his parents are leaving for the night. Booth tussles Michael's curly mop of hair that he's grown out so he can be just like his dad, much to Hodgins' total surprise (and joy) as Brennan grabs her clutch.
"Behave for Uncle Aubrey tonight," she warns the children, knowing how raucous they can be when they want to.
"We will," they reply immediately, although Booth detects a worrying mischievous glint in his daughter's eyes.
"Christine?"
"I promise!" She says, doing nothing to assuage his concerns. Booth knows his daughter and he knows Aubrey is going to have an interesting night ahead of him. Feeling like he's leaving a lamb to the slaughter, he and Brennan head out of their house, his hand on the small of her back as they walk towards the waiting cab.
"They'll be all right, won't they?" Brennan questions nervously as he opens the door for her like the gentleman he is and helps her inside.
He hurries around to the other side of the vehicle, climbs in and shuts the door behind him. He gives the address of the restaurant date night will be held at this week and takes his wife's hand supportively. "I'm sure they'll be fine."
As the cab sets off, Booth glances back at their beautiful home, silently hoping that they don't return to it on fire.
"Looks all right," Booth comments as they walk hand-in-hand towards Bouche Manger, the French restaurant Angela had chosen for their triple date night this evening.
"Apparently the food here is, and I quote, to die for. Although I don't really understand that idiom." Brennan crinkles her nose adorably and Booth has to strongly resist the urge to kiss her.
"Why not, Bones?"
"Why would you want to die for food? You'd never actually get to taste it. If it were so good, surely you'd want to eat it. It makes no sense."
Booth chuckles. "You know what, Bones? You've got a good point there. You're smart."
"Not smart. Brilliant," she corrects, smiling to herself.
"What brilliant thing have you done now, sweetie?" Angela asks as she, Hodgins, Cam and Arastoo approach the partners.
"Tearing apart popular idioms," Booth says, a hint of pride in his voice. "Shall we go in?"
Arastoo checks his watch. "We're a little early but we can just go to the bar, right? Get some drinks?"
"I'm not gonna say no to that," Angela laughs, opening the doors wide so Hodgins can wheel himself through, everybody else entering after him. Predictably, Booth, Angela and Brennan head straight to the bar to order their drinks, while the others sort out the reservation. Booth buys some Scotch for him and Hodgins, while Brennan and Angela take advantage of the cocktail specials on offer. Cam and Arastoo buy some non-alcoholic options when the other four are seated and already deep in conversation about Angela's latest photography exhibition that was, once again, an overwhelming success.
"This photography thing is really working out well for you, huh?" Cam says, sipping at her drink. "Selling out for the fourth show in a row – that's impressive."
"Right?" Hodgins grins widely. "I'm so proud of her."
Angela narrows her eyes at her husband. "Do not say I told you so."
"To be fair, Ange, if it wasn't for Hodgins you would have never started displaying your work…"
The artist turns her glare to the FBI agent. "Don't you dare side with him, Seeley Joseph Booth. His ego gets huge when he ends up being right."
"So you admit I'm right?" Hodgins exclaims, pumping his fist triumphantly and making Booth and Arastoo chuckle in a moment of male camaraderie. They quickly silence when their wives train their eyes on them.
"What I mean to say is… Angela is totally right. All the time. Never wrong," Arastoo stammers, grimacing when the three women begin to laugh.
"Such a suck up," Cam teases, shaking her head at her husband of two years.
"Hey! I thought you meant-."
"Don't bother, man." Hodgins claps him on the back. "You're not gonna win."
"Never," Angela backs him up smugly.
"If you're ready, your table is right this way," the waitress interrupts, leading the group of six to a circular candle-lit table in a private part of the restaurant, per Angela's request.
"Candles. Pretty romantic, huh, Bones?" Booth winks flirtatiously at his wife as they all sit down and accept the menus the waitress hands them.
"Yes, I believe so." The couple exchange loving smiles, both of them thinking about the rather romantic bath they'd taken the night before with scented candles, bubble bath, the right music to get them in the mood… Brennan had found the evening extremely satisfying, to say the least.
"Hello! Earth to Brennan," Angela calls, waving the deep burgundy menu in front of her best friend's glazed over eyes. "Anybody there?"
Brennan jolts out of her daydream about her and Booth's most recent sexy times, her cheeks colouring as she catches everyone at the table staring at her with rapt attention.
"Oh, I know that look! She's thinking about what her and Booth did last night! Let me guess, did it have something to do with the tub?" Amusement glitters in Angela's dark brown eyes.
Booth and Brennan's silence speaks volumes.
"I knew it! You love the tub!"
Hodgins laughs loudly at his wife's overjoyed exclamation. "Wow, you guys are not subtle at all, are you?"
"Shut it, bug boy," Booth says sharply, pointing a finger at his curly haired friend. "Bones has told me allll about the antics you and Angela get up to in your kitchen, so don't even start."
"Where do you two like to get it on then? Since we're sharing," Angela inquires lewdly, directing her question towards Cam and Arastoo.
"Not telling."
"The car."
"Arastoo!" Cam gasps, horrified. "That is wildly inappropriate."
"No, it's not! Car sex is hot, don't worry 'bout it."
Cam buries her face in her hands at her employee's words. She's their boss, for heaven's sake. Can't they maintain some semblance of professionalism for once?
"Are you and Angela already drunk, Hodgins?" Brennan questions, amused.
He shrugs. "Maybe. But, hey, you can't blame us. It's not often we get a crime-free and child-free weekend where we can drink like college students again. We're sure as hell going to make the most of this rare opportunity."
Speaking of the children, Booth's mind begins to drift to what they're getting up to back at home as conversation fades away and they all peruse their menus.
"G'night, Unca Aubrey," Hank mumbles, already half asleep as he cocoons himself in his bedcovers like a burrito. Mmm. Speaking of, Aubrey does love a good burrito. One of them sounds pretty good right now.
He switches off the light as he leaves Hank's room, returning to Michael and Christine in the living area, a swagger to his step. Kid went straight to sleep without the slightest hiccup. And Booth had warned him that it's difficult to get the three year old to bed right now without hours of tantrums and restless nights… Pfft. It had been a piece of cake. I'm amazing with children, he thinks to himself, impressed with how little effort that took. Now to relax…
"How 'bout we watch a Harry Potter movie, huh?" He claps his hands together, capturing the attention of the two kids. "Everybody loves Harry Potter."
They share an almost conspiratorial look then return their focus to their babysitter.
"OK," Christine says.
"Only if we can have snacks," Michael negotiates.
"Hey, I love snacks!" Aubrey's about to excitedly fetch the huge food supply he'd brought with him when he pauses, remembering how health conscious Brennan can be. "Christine, will your mom be OK with you eating snacks?"
Christine shakes her head sadly, but brightens up seconds later. "We just won't tell her."
"Great idea!"
"No, no, not a great idea," Aubrey worries, knowing Brennan is an expert in martial arts. She could kill him without even trying. Plus, they work together. He doesn't want to lose the trusting relationship they've built up over the years. He swallows. "I'm not sure I feel comfortable lying to your mother."
"She'd never know!" Brennan's mini-me insists and, like her mother, she is extremely persuasive. She's also developed the sad eyes from both her parents and Aubrey really can't say no to that look.
He lets out a deep sigh. "OK, fine. But you have to brush your teeth very well and promise not to make a mess. Got it?"
Both kids cheer.
Christine dashes off and retrieves two Klondike bars from their freezer. She hands one to her best friend and unwraps her own as Aubrey inserts the Goblet of Fire disc (apparently the Booth family's personal favourite) into the DVD player. Aubrey settles down next to them on the sofa as they munch away at the ice cream bar with the delicious outer layer of chocolate.
The movie begins and the three viewers are entranced by the opening sequence, so much so that Christine forgets about the frozen treat in her hand. Aubrey glances over to find all the ice cream and chocolate melting, creating a giant stain on Christine's clothing and, more worryingly, Booth and Brennan's beautiful cream-coloured couch.
Aubrey curses under his breath. Panicking, he grabs a cloth from the kitchen, searches under the sink for some stain remover and hurries back to the sofa. He then races back to Booth and Brennan's cabinets for two plastic kids' bowls, which should prevent them from making even more of a mess. He hands them their bowls and gets to work at removing the chocolaty mark before his partner and his partner's wife murder him like the vics they see every day. The film continues on behind him, much to Aubrey's dismay. He loves the Twilight guy in this one!
The brown stain becomes lighter and lighter and, eventually, disappears. Thank God. He did not fancy being one of those skeletons on Dr. Brennan's examination table just because her beautiful furniture was ruined on his watch. He sighs in relief – the problem resolved – and settles himself back down next to Christine and Michael, who have now finished eating their messy treats.
After watching the movie in silence for half an hour, his stomach starts to rumble and he decides to break into the snacks he'd packed with him. He picks out the large bag of sweet and salty popcorn, which he'd been uncertain about at first, but has now discovered is revolutionary and tips the lot into the biggest bowl he can find for easy eating. He returns to his seat and tucks into the tasty snack he's so glad he had the forethought to buy.
However, to his absolute horror, the mini-Booth begins to pick at his popcorn. He remembers how his mom used to tell him to share his things with the other kids when he was younger. Sharing toys is one thing, but sharing food? That's abhorrent. If Christine didn't look so cute in her Flyers tee, leggings and bunny slippers, he would have reprimanded her for taking his food without permission. He decides to let it go, but does shift the bowl farther and farther from where her thieving little fingers can reach. Satisfied, he concentrates on the scene unfolding, when he feels a finger tapping on his right shoulder. He glances questioningly down at Christine.
"Why weren't you invited to date night?"
"It's a date night for married people. I'm not married," he responds easily, thinking that will be the end of the conversation.
Oh no.
Of course not. Christine has clearly developed her mother's curiosity and her father's interrogation skills.
"Why not?"
"Why aren't I married?" He repeats.
Christine nods and Michael Vincent pauses the film, equally interested in Aubrey's response.
"Um. I dunno. I'm still young. It just hasn't happened yet." He lifts his shoulders in a casual shrug as if an eight and nine year old will understand that reasoning.
"Do you want to get married?" Michael.
"Maybe someday."
"My mommy didn't want to get married."
Aubrey's eyes widen. "She didn't?"
"Nope, not until she fell in love with my daddy," Christine says knowledgably.
"My mom and dad got married in jail!" Michael exclaims.
"Really?" Aubrey's mouth drops open. He is learning so much new information about his co-workers this evening.
"Yeah, but they got out of jail."
"Thank goodness," Aubrey smiles, tickling the boy's armpits.
"Do you have a girlfriend?" Christine continues interrogating, despite her distracted audience tickling a rather squeamish Michael Vincent. "Uncle Aubrey." She prods at his arm impatiently until he replies to her.
"Yes, Christine, I do."
"What's her name?" Michael asks now the tickling has ceased, intrigued.
"You two are awfully nosy, you know that, right?" He chuckles. "My girlfriend's name is Jessica, if you must know. She works at the lab with your parents."
Christine mentally runs through everyone her mom works with at the Jeffersonian then she suddenly remembers. "The pretty red-headed one?"
"Yeah, her."
"She's pretty," Michael says.
"I know," Aubrey replies, a smile forming as he ruminates on just how pretty his girlfriend is. "I'm very lucky."
"Do you love her?" Christine.
"Yeah." His smile widens. "I do. I really love her."
"Are you going to marry her?" Michael.
He chokes on the popcorn he'd just put in his mouth, the nine year old's question totally throwing him. "Sorry?"
"I said, are you going to marry her? Pretty Jess?"
"I-. Uh. I-," he splutters, not knowing what to say. The tips of his ears have turned bright red at the much more personal line of questioning this conversation has taken. He hasn't even talked to Jess about this stuff.
Christine decides to help him out. "When you love somebody, you marry them. Like my mommy and daddy. They really, really love each other, so they're husband and wife. Do you love pretty Jess like my daddy loves my mommy?"
Flustered, he says, "I don't know. Probably. I think so."
"Then you should marry her, silly," she tells him like it's the simplest thing in the world. "I'll help you pick one of those really pretty candy rings for you to buy her, OK?"
He has to fight the temptation to laugh at her adorably serious expression. "OK, Christine."
That settled, his thorough interrogation about his love life seemingly over, Michael resumes the film and they watch the action right from where they left off. Aubrey smiles softly to himself as Christine leans her head against his shoulder.
All in all, babysitting hasn't been that bad so far. In fact, he's rather enjoying it.
Booth stretches his arm around the back of Brennan's chair as the waiters remove their now-empty plates.
"Those starters were delicious," Cam remarks, sincerely impressed.
"I have to agree. It's incredibly difficult to find a non-vegan restaurant that makes vegan food as good as the specialised establishments, but that was superb." Brennan grins at Angela. "Looks like you made a great choice."
"Thanks, sweetie. Uh, can we have some of your finest champagne and one glass of sparkling cider?" She asks one of the waiters before he can leave the table.
"Of course, Miss. One minute."
Arastoo's eyes widen because they agreed to split the check three ways and he certainly can't afford their finest champagne. And he can't even drink it! "I can't afford that," he worries aloud.
"It's fine," Brennan waves him off, "I just got a big advance on my next book. I'll pay for the champagne."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah. We all have big news to share, right? That's the point of this meal, isn't it? How can we celebrate big news without champagne?"
"Bones is right."
"I'm always right," she agrees, making Booth chuckle. God, he loves his wife.
Just then the waiter returns with the bottle of bubbly, five flutes and one glass of sparkling cider, which is placed in front of Arastoo. Once each diner has their own glass, he begins to pour the champagne into the flutes.
Cam is last and, exchanging a quick, nervous glance with her husband, she covers the rim with the palm of her hand. "None for me, thanks."
"Oh, come on, Cam! Have some bubbly – it's a treat!" Hodgins tries to convince her to no avail.
"Brennan's paying," Angela reminds her enticingly.
She shakes her head gently, happiness glittering in her eyes. "That's not the problem."
"Then what is?"
Cam and Arastoo share gleeful smiles this time, unable to hide their mega huge announcement any longer. She nods at him, a silent "you can say it."
His entire face lights up with pure joy. "She can't drink because we're pregnant!"
"Oh my God!" Angela squeals, scraping back her chair so she can jump up and embrace Cam in a hug. "I'm so happy for you!"
"We all are," Booth adds, grinning at his long-time friend. "Congratulations!"
"Yeah, man. You're finally gonna be a dad!"
"I can't wait," Arastoo says adorably, making Angela melt.
"If you don't kiss him, Cam, I will."
Cam laughs delightedly as she presses a kiss to Arastoo's cheek. She would normally despise such a public display of affection in front of their co-workers and friends, but they didn't think this could happen for them – that they could get pregnant – and Arastoo is so happy, she can't help herself.
"For the record, I totally knew," Brennan says proudly.
Booth rolls his eyes and turns towards his wife, his expression incredulous. "You did not know."
"Yes, I did, Booth. She's been showing signs of early pregnancy for some time now – ptylism, broadening nostrils, sweating more than usual-."
"If you knew, why didn't you tell me, huh?"
"Is this going to turn into a fight?" Arastoo whispers to Cam, who dissolves into laughter.
Booth and Brennan face them, confused. They both say "what?" at the exact same moment.
"Nothing…" Cam has to quash her amused smile. They're always in sync. "So, what's your news?" She questions, hoping to distract them before they start full on bickering.
"Booth," Brennan begins, pride surging into her voice as she drops one hand to her husband's thigh, "has been promoted to Deputy Director of the FBI."
The table erupts with excited exclamations once again, attracting the attention of nearby diners.
Booth shushes his friends, his neck pinking. "Don't listen to Bones, it's not confirmed yet. I still have to go through the hearing with the congressional sub-committee first and after what happened last time…" He trails off, memories of a difficult period of his life overwhelming him.
"We cleared the shadow government, Booth. Durant is in prison. You're going to get this job, trust me." She squeezes his leg supportively.
His stare is fixed on his wife, even as their friends congratulate him noisily once again, he can't take his eyes off her. How has he got so lucky? She's proven time and time again how she has absolute faith in him and it blows him away every time that this perfect, beautiful, intelligent woman loves him.
"Does this mean you won't be working together anymore?" Hodgins asks, pulling him out of his deep reverie about his amazing wife.
Angela furrows her brow. "You couldn't even stop working together on your honeymoon, for God's sake. Won't you hate that?"
"Yes, but," Brennan beams at Booth, "my husband deserves this job more than anybody and he really wants it. So I support him 100%."
"The pay's better, it's safer and I get to spend more time with the kids. Plus, I'm not getting any younger, y'anno. I'm not gonna be able to do fieldwork for too much longer. Obviously I'll miss working with Bones, but we're married so we're always gonna be partners in that sense," Booth explains at their friends' surprised reactions. While, yes, in the past, he could have never given up fieldwork, his life has changed so much since then. He has the family he's always wanted and they mean everything to him. He's not going to risk losing them over some dumb job.
"Well, I think it's great. Congrats, Seeley."
"Thanks, Camille."
Next is Hodgins and Angela's turn to share their own exciting piece of news. Because Angela's photography has really taken off over the last few years, the demand for her to travel all over the world has increased, particularly to her favourite city…
"You're moving to Paris?" Brennan exclaims, shocked and a little hurt. The thought of living across the world from her best friend is heartbreaking.
"We're just buying an apartment over there, we're keeping our house here in DC," the artist says, clasping Brennan's free hand. "There's so many amazing opportunities for me over there and you know it's always been my dream to live in Paris. But I could never leave you full time, sweetie."
"Good, because I don't ever want you to leave." Brennan lets go of Booth and wraps her arms around her best friend, holding her close.
Angela smiles softly into Brennan's shoulder and then pulls apart. "Hey, you can still come and visit when we are staying in Paris," she says in an exaggerated French accent. "It'd be a pretty romantic trip for you and Studly," she whispers, winking at Booth.
"That sounds wonderful, Angela," Brennan agrees. "And I'd get to visit the Catacombs – I've always wanted to go there but have never found the time."
Booth narrows his eyes at her. "Just can't stop thinking about bones, can you?"
"I'm afraid not. But you knew what you signed up for when you married me," she teases, her eyes glinting in delight.
"I know, Bones, and it was the best decision I ever made." He gazes at Brennan intensely for several moments, forgetting everybody around them. The corners of his lips lift in a smile as he raises his flute of champagne, the rest of the group following suit. "To growing families, new jobs and apartments in Paris," he toasts appreciatively.
They all clink their glasses, every one of them wearing perfectly content smiles.
Life is pretty great right now, Booth thinks as he sips at his champagne, wondering how he could possibly get any happier than he is right at this moment.
"What do you mean Hogwarts isn't real?" Aubrey cries, offended.
"It's a fictional school that only exists in J.K. Rowling's fantasy world. Wizards obviously aren't real so I don't know why you'd believe in the school they supposedly attend."
The FBI agent's mouth falls open. He can't believe he's having his favourite movie franchise ruined like this. And by a nine year old of all people. "Wizards aren't real?"
Michael rolls his eyes as if to say "I can't believe I actually have to deal with this right now."
"Of course not, Uncle Aubrey! Anthropologically speaking, witches and wizards are purely metaphors for abstract ideologies such a social predation," Christine explains adamantly.
Aubrey raises his eyebrows in surprise. "Did you swallow a dictionary or something?"
"No, my mommy just says I'm very smart."
"And I guess it was your mommy that taught you all about the anthropological meaning behind witchcraft?" His lips twitch with amusement.
"She talks about it every time we watch Harry Potter. It makes daddy mad."
"I bet it does," Aubrey titters, contemplating what everyday life must be like in the Booth household. With the amount of bickering they do at work with their professional restraint, he imagines debates at home must get pretty heated. He wishes he could be a fly on the wall for some of those bickering sessions; the couple's somewhat unique dynamic never fails to entertain him. He pauses, thinking he can hear cries emanating from Hank's room. He's about to get up and investigate when, sure enough, a sobbing Hank Booth comes speeding into the living room moments later.
"What's wrong, buddy?" He asks as the little boy crawls into his lap and snuggles into his chest.
"Miss my mommy," he mumbles, his thumb in his mouth. "Where's mommy?"
"She's gone out with our daddy, remember, Hank?"
He shakes his head vehemently. "I want mommy."
"She's not here," Aubrey repeats Christine's words as the even more mini mini-Booth begins to quiver as tears wrack through his body. Aubrey draws circles on the little boy's back, hoping he finds that soothing.
He clearly doesn't because, if anything, his cries get stronger.
Christine prises him from Aubrey's arms and hugs her baby brother tightly. "It's OK, Hank. I'm here," she says, rocking him gently and pressing feather-light kisses to the top of his head.
"Want mommy," he wails, ignoring his big sister's attempts to calm him down.
"I'm better than mommy though, right?"
"No!" Tears continue to stream down his cheeks as a distressed little Hank won't accept any other substitute for Brennan.
Christine glances helplessly at Aubrey. "I don't know what to do."
The last thing Aubrey wants to do is call Brennan and interrupt their date night. It's not often that she and Booth get a night completely free of responsibilities and they've both been incredibly stressed at work lately so he knows they need the break to enjoy themselves. Wracking his brain for any possible solution, he comes up blank and turns to the genius children beside him for any ideas.
"Dr. B is really famous, right?" Michael starts, his expression lit with joy about his amazing plan.
Aubrey nods, unsure of where this is leading.
"There's loads of videos of famous people online so there's gotta be some of Dr. B, haven't there? I know it's not the real thing but maybe just seeing her and hearing her voice will help him relax," he suggests, surprising Aubrey with how smart that is (and annoying him that he couldn't come up with that idea himself.)
Christine agrees and pulls out their family tablet. She clicks on the YouTube app and types "Temperance Brennan" into the search bar. It takes a second or two to load, but then a long list of videos appear. They mostly consist of various anthropology lectures she's done over the years, scattered with a few interviews about her books. Aubrey's about to tell Christine to select one of her TV interviews which would be boring for Hank, but it's better than nothing, when he spots an extremely interesting thumbnail at the bottom of the screen.
It's Brennan – obviously – but unlike anything Aubrey has seen her in before. She looks younger with her hair pulled up in two high pigtails and bangs. Her costume is what surprises him the most though. She's wearing a black and white skeleton suit with a large red tutu over the top and big white Mickey Mouse-like gloves on her hands. She looks almost… whimsical. The video is titled "Bunsen Jude the Science Dude."
"Oh, I have to watch this," Aubrey murmurs to himself and leans over Christine to click on the video.
It opens on what looks like the platform in the Medico-Legal lab, only it has been re-decorated to be appropriate for a kids show. There's a flashing yellow sign that reads "The Lab" and beneath it, the colourful logo of "Bunsen Jude the Science Dude". The music begins and an enthusiastic African American man dressed in a white lab coat runs onto the "stage"; Aubrey guesses he's the so-called Bunsen Jude.
"What is the code of the scientist?" He begins to excited cheers from the children in the audience.
Hank has stopped crying in his sister's arms, intrigued. Christine and Michael also watch silently, equally fascinated by this show and what on Earth Brennan is doing on it.
"Observe! Analyse! Deduce!"
"Kids, I want you to meet a very special friend. In fact, this is her lab. Isn't it amazing?"
"It's amazing!" The kids chorus and Aubrey's pupils widen. These kids are not normal.
"She's a forensic anthropologist and what she does is amazing! She looks at old bones; she figures out how people lived, what they were like, even how they died. She's amazing! Like magic."
"She is, isn't she, Hank?" Christine says, bouncing her brother on her knee. He doesn't respond; too busy eagerly anticipating the moment his mom will appear on the video.
"But it's not magic, it's-."
"Science!" Everybody shouts together and even Michael joins in. When Aubrey glances at him, puzzled, he blushes and turns away.
"Her name is Dr. Temperance Brennan, but she's better known as the bone lady!" Jude announces, clapping as the music and applause starts up again and Brennan – sorry, the bone lady – comes dancing out from backstage, waving her hands around.
Little Hank's eyes light up as he points at the screen excitedly. "Mommy!"
"Yeah, that's right, Hank. That's mommy!" Christine kisses his chubby cheeks as they lift to form a wide, toothy grin.
On screen, Brennan does a few bows and Aubrey can't physically believe what's he's watching. Who convinced the usually serious scientist to do this? He stores this little treasure in his mind to ask Booth about in the office on Monday. Aubrey continues to watch avidly.
"Dr. Brennan, would you like to lead us in our scientist's oath?"
"I most certainly would, Science Dude!" Onscreen Brennan says and Christine claps delightedly.
Aubrey grins at the cuteness of the scene before him as Brennan begins her oath.
"We see big stars, tiny atoms, too, because that is what scientists do! We get the facts and say what's true, because that is what scientists do! We use our minds, embrace what's new, because that is what scientists do!"
Aubrey has to stifle laughter at the actions both she and Science Dude do as they recite the scientist's oath with the children. He is so going to get her back for making fun of his dance moves during his show choir competition video a few years ago. He's already silently plotting ways he can bring this oath up when they're out in the field, a smirk on his face as the video comes to a close.
"Thank you, Dr. Brennan."
"No, thank you," onscreen Brennan insists, a smile on her face.
The audience cheers loudly as she shakes Science Dude's hand and does an awkward curtsey/bow thing. The video ends with her putting up one gloved thumb as she smiles tenderly at somebody in the audience. Aubrey presumes Booth must have been there because he recognises that smile as the one she reserves just for her husband.
"Again! Again! Again!" Hank demands as Christine clicks replay and Brennan's children delight in watching their mother perform, Hank's tears long forgotten.
After re-watching the clip five times, Aubrey is able to commit the oath to memory, but Hank's mood has not improved any further. In fact, it's making him more upset that he can see Brennan and talk to her, but she's not talking back. Big, fat tears begin to roll down his face and all three of them are at a loss of what to do; not even the video comforts him anymore.
Resigned, Aubrey decides he's going to have to call Brennan and disrupt date night. She's the only person that's going to be able to soothe him so he can actually get some sleep tonight. Aubrey pulls out his cell and dials Brennan's number, his lips pinching as he remembers the countless ways Booth had threatened him with bodily harm if he were to ruin their one evening of freedom.
"Hello?" Brennan's anxious voice comes through the speaker after several rings. She's already on alert that something is wrong with her kids and he inwardly marvels at her maternal instinct. "Aubrey, is everything OK?"
He can hear the muffled voices of his friends on the end of the line, wondering what the call is about. He puts them out of their misery. "I'm really sorry to disturb you, Dr. B, but Hank's woken up crying and we've tried everything, but he just wants you. Could you talk to him?"
"Yes, of course, Aubrey. Let me just step outside where it's quieter." He listens as she briefly explains the situation to the rest of the group, scrapes back her chair and exits the restaurant, her heels clicking loudly against the floor. Silence. "OK, Aubrey. Put him on speaker phone."
Aubrey does as she says. He wouldn't want to disobey Temperance Brennan on a good day, let alone when she's in full on overprotective mama bear mode. He nudges Hank to speak first.
"Mommy?"
"Hi, Hank. Are you all right, honey?"
"I miss you and daddy," he says tearfully, his lower lip jutting out in a sad pout.
"We miss you, too, buddy. But we'll be home soon," comes Booth's voice.
Hank's tiny head swivels to the front door, expecting his parents to come on walking through. "Now?"
"No, not right now, sweetheart. I tell you what, if you go to sleep like a good boy for Uncle Aubrey, it'll be the morning before you know it then we'll give you and Christine a million kisses, OK?" Brennan.
"Two million trillion?" Hank barters, causing Christine to giggle uncontrollably.
"Deal," Booth agrees. "Will you go to bed now, buddy?"
"Yes, daddy. Love you."
"We love you more, baby," Brennan calls down the line before Christine lowers Hank to the floor and the toddler traipses back to bed, all his crying clearly having worn him out.
"Thanks for that. I didn't want to disturb you, but he just wouldn't settle."
"Don't worry about it, Aubrey. It's part and parcel of being a parent." Brennan. "How's my beautiful little Christine? And Michael Vincent?"
"They're doing great," Aubrey assures her. "Now get back to your date. I'll see you in a few hours."
And, with that, he cuts off the call. He leans back into the pillows, thinking he'll finally have some peace and quiet so he can relax after a particularly gruelling mob case he's been working this week. However, of course, Christine has other plans.
"Uncle Aubrey, come play Ready! Set! Fun! with us!"
He groans, sliding to the floor where the eight year old is setting up what is, according to Booth, her most favourite board game in the world, which she takes very seriously.
Perhaps he overestimated how easy this babysitting thing would be. The night's not even over yet and he already needs to sleep for, like, forty years. Minimum.
"I hope that worked," Brennan says, worrying her lower lip. Booth can see the guilty expression appearing on her face over the fact they're not with their son when he's feeling so distressed and Booth determines to distract her from panicking about Hank so she can actually enjoy the rest of her evening.
"It will. Our little big man will be just fine, Bones. Come on, let's get back to the table before they think we've dined and dashed." A hand on the small of her back, they slowly walk to where their friends are sitting.
"Do you remember that time we actually dined and dashed?" Her voice is in a quiet whisper, but her eyes light up excitedly.
"Oh, yeah. That was fun." He doesn't say anything about the money he left on the counter, doesn't want to ruin the memory for her; he just loves the fact that she's finally embracing the child inside of her. She certainly deserves it, after everything she's been through.
"Everything OK?" Hodgins asks when they reach the table, noticing the remaining tinge of concern remaining on Brennan's face.
"Absolutely," Booth responds as he pulls out his wife's chair for her then sits back down in his own. "Hank just woke up and they needed us to calm him down. You've got all this to come," he says, tossing a playful grin in Cam and Arastoo's direction.
"Oh, yeah. Parenting is great until they wake you up every ten minutes in the middle of the night."
"It's not actually that bad, is it?"
"Nah, it's more like every five minutes," Hodgins teases.
"It's worse when there's two of them," Brennan laments. "They wake each other up."
Arastoo's eyes widen, panic-stricken, causing their friends to laugh at his expense.
"You guys aren't being too encouraging right now."
"The sleepless nights are exhausting but, honestly, having kids is the best thing you'll ever do. You'll love it," Booth promises, reassuring the terrified parents-to-be.
"Plus, it gives you an excuse to play with all their cool toys and pretend you're doing it for them."
"Oh, don't even get me started on that," Angela complains, narrowing her eyes at Hodgins. "Our living room is permanently messy because there are toy cars and video games scattered all over the place. Whenever I ask Michael who did it, he always says you, Hodgie."
"He said he'd keep that between us!"
Their friends all chuckle as Hodgins threatens to ground his son for throwing him to the wolves (AKA his beautiful loving wife) like that.
"Ground him? But Michael Vincent's an angel!" Arastoo.
"That's what he wants you to think."
"Yes, Michael and Christine can be a real nightmare when they're together. I don't even want to think about what they're doing to my house right now." Brennan shudders.
"Last time Aubrey babysat, Christine knocked Bones' African fertility statue on the floor and it broke," Booth sniggers, his hand resting on his wife's shoulder. "Not that we've ever needed it, of course."
Brennan jabs her elbow into his chest, her cheeks flushing pink with embarrassment.
"Yeah, you're definitely not going back home to it in one piece," Cam says, laughing softly.
"We'll just have to run away to some tropical climate together, huh, Bones? Leave them to it." He waggles his eyebrows suggestively at her.
She simply rolls her eyes at his goofiness. "We'd miss Christine and Hank too much."
"Eh. I suppose we would. Thanks for ruining my beach house fantasy there, Bones."
"It's OK. You still love me." Delight dances in her eyes as she teases him light-heartedly.
"I really do," he growls in her ear, making her giggle. Booth pulls her chair nearer to his so that their bodies touch, so completely in love with his wife that he misses the knowing smirks from their friends and co-workers around the table.
Minutes later, one of the waiters from earlier returns to their table, asking if they'd like to order desserts.
"PIE!" Booth exclaims immediately, a proud smile on his face when everybody in their vicinity looks over and stares at him disdainfully.
Whatever.
He just really likes pie.
"He's sleeping like a log," Aubrey tells Michael and Christine upon returning to the living room after checking on Hank.
"Logs can't sleep," the latter says, her little nose crinkling in confusion.
"It's an expression."
"It's a stupid expression. Surely saying he's sleeping like a bear or a bat or a common poorwill would make more sense." Michael.
"What's a common poorwill?" Aubrey questions, scratching his jaw.
"A type of bird that hibernates when temperatures are too extreme or if they don't have much food. Did you know, it's the only bird species that goes into true hibernation?"
"No, I didn't." Hanging out with these two makes Aubrey feel like he's back at school again. "Anyhoops, it's getting late and you should go to bed before Booth and Brennan come home and you get me into trouble; it's already an hour and a half later than your bed time."
Reluctantly the tiny geniuses agree and disappear off to change into their pyjamas. Aubrey collapses onto the now-vacated sofa, completely spent. How on Earth do those two have so much energy and ridiculous amounts of knowledge? He wonders. When he was their age, all he cared about were comics and video games and pizza. Although to be fair, his priorities haven't really changed that much since then.
He's contemplating what pizza toppings to order when he gets home as Christine comes bounding back into the room, now dressed in her super cute footy pyjamas.
"Will you read us a story and come tuck us in, Uncle Aubrey?" She asks shyly. "I can't sleep until my mom or dad read me one of my books."
"OK, sure," he says evenly. That sounds reasonable enough. He stands up and follows her through the house and into her bedroom. She hops into her bed and passes Aubrey the book she wants him to read. Michael is lying in his khaki green sleeping bag beside Christine's bed. They both watch intently as Aubrey opens the front cover of Horton.
"Make sure to do the voices," Michael reminds him.
"My daddy always does the funny voices."
So that's what Aubrey does. (Although, apparently, not to Booth's high standard.)
He closes the book once he reaches the end and looks over, realising both children are drifting off to sleep.
He climbs off the bed, gently pulls the covers over the mini-Booth, careful not to wake her, and tiptoes out of her bedroom, sighing in relief. All three children are asleep at last. The house is quiet and peaceful, finally allowing him to relax.
Once in the living room, he crashes onto the couch and switches the TV on at a low volume, so as not to disturb the kids. He sees that one of his all time favourite movies To Catch A Thief is playing and settles in to watch one of the classics.
However, the children he's babysitting evidently have other plans for him.
Feeling two pairs of eyes on him, he surveys the area, inwardly cussing when he sees Christine and Michael stood near the kitchen island, eager expressions on their faces.
"What do you want now, guys? You're supposed to be sleeping."
As the oldest, Michael takes the lead role. "We want to make cookies."
"Chocolate chip cookies," Christine inserts in the hopes of boosting their chances.
"At this time of night?" Aubrey arches an eyebrow sceptically.
"Yes! Mommy bought the ingredients especially but I forgot. She'll be mad if we don't use them."
"I'm sure she won't be that mad. You can always bake tom-."
"But then you won't be able to eat them! You love chocolate chip cookies, don't you, Uncle Aubrey?" Michael asks, even pulling out the puppy dog eyes.
I really do love chocolate chip cookies… especially when they're fresh from the oven… Aubrey practically salivates at the thought. Damn his inability to say no to delicious freshly baked goods. "OK, fine. We'll make cookies."
"Yay!" Christine yells, darting forward to hug him. Aubrey is a little taken aback at first, but does hug back, tousling her brown hair for good measure. He has to admit that he's become very fond of Booth and Brennan's daughter and it means a lot to him that she likes him back, even if it is just because he's letting her bake cookies at ten o'clock at night.
Christine lets go and dashes off to fetch some aprons, while Aubrey finds the ingredients from the kitchen cabinets and lays them out on the side. Christine returns and he helps both children tie the knot at the back of their aprons then insists they wash their hands. They do so and then they're all ready to begin baking.
Aubrey gets up a recipe on his phone and reads out the measurements while Christine and Michael take it in turns to weigh out the flour, sugar, butter and chocolate chips. Aubrey tries to ignore the huge amount already spilt on the countertop as they toss the ingredients into the large mixing bowl, but he almost has a heart attack when Christine attempts to crack an egg (attempts being the key word here) on the rim of the bowl and misses entirely, the egg yolk and whites dripping to the floor in a gloopy puddle.
"Oops?" Christine says before grabbing another.
Aubrey can't stop her fast enough, but luckily the bowl captures most of the contents of the egg this time around.
Michael begins to stir the mixture together, large clouds of flour puffing up and falling, adding to the already pretty significant mess they've made in his partner's kitchen.
Once they've each had a turn destroying the kitchen (sorry, mixing the cookie dough), they each grab huge amounts of dough, ball it up between their palms then flatten it out and lay it on the already greased oven tray. They repeat this method until two trays are filled with giant misshapen chocolate chip cookies. Aubrey pops them in the oven, sets the timer then sits on one of the barstools in the kitchen next to Michael Vincent. He's too shattered to even attempt cleaning up yet and decides to do it when the alarm tells him the cookies are ready to eat.
"This pie is incredible," Booth says, practically moaning as he stuffs another forkful of the delicious apple pie into his mouth.
"Yeah, are you gonna let Dr. Brennan eat any of it?" Arastoo jokes. "You're supposed to be sharing."
"I can't help myself. It's just too freaking good." Even so, he slides the plate slightly in his wife's direction and she takes a tiny bite of Booth's most favourite type of food.
"I have to digress," she mumbles, the pie in her mouth, "that this is probably the best I've ever had."
"We're gonna have to come here more often, Bones. The Diner's got nothin' on this."
Angela rolls her eyes, popping a spoonful of Crème Brulée into her mouth. "I can't believe you've come to a French restaurant and you're eating pie of all things."
"Hey!" He cries, affronted. "If pie is on the menu, I gots to have my pie!"
"We know. You only talk about it twenty-four seven."
He narrows his eyes at Brennan. "If that's the case, then no more for you." He slides the plate away.
"No, Booth! I was only joking!"
"Mmm. Sure." He reluctantly lets her have another few bites of the pie, but only because she's cute.
They spend the rest of the evening laughing and telling each other jokes, the pleasant buzz of alcohol combined with the smooth tones of the jazz band playing making everything more enjoyable. Eventually they decide it's getting late – they're not twenty anymore, they're getting tired – and Booth and Brennan think they should probably relieve Aubrey of his babysitting duties. They each pay their part of the check (with Brennan taking responsibility for the expensive champagne, as she'd promised) and head outside. Booth removes his jacket and drapes it over Brennan's shoulders in a very gentlemanly action when the chill of the late hour hits them, earning him an appreciative kiss from his wife.
"We've had a great evening," Cam says, thanking the others for inviting them along. "See you at work on Monday." She waves goodbye as she and Arastoo climb into the cab he'd just called over.
"We'll be round for lunch tomorrow to pick Michael up," Hodgins says and thanks Booth and Brennan once again for letting their son stay over.
Booth simply shrugs it off. "You help us out with the kids all the time, so it's the least we could do."
Hodgins smiles gratefully at him then sticks his hand out as he sees a taxi approaching them. The vehicle slows down and stops. The driver gets out and lowers the ramp so Hodgins can wheel himself in easily, while Angela and Brennan - both very drunk – are hugging each other tightly on the sidewalk. Booth watches on, amused, as they kiss each other on the cheeks then accidentally catch each other's lips. They erupt in a fit of tipsy giggles and Booth has to step in, the cab driver becoming impatient with the waiting around.
"That wasn't too shabby, Brennan," Angela shouts drunkenly as Booth pries her away from his wife and leads her to the waiting taxi. "You'd better watch out, Boothy, you might have some competition."
"Allll right," he intones, shaking his head as he slams the door shut and holds up one hand in a wave goodbye as their friends are driven away. Said hand reaches out to steady Brennan as she stumbles towards him. "Had a good night, Bones?" He asks laughingly as he attracts a taxi of their own.
"Amazing night," she murmurs, leaning her forehead against his as they wait for the cab to pull up. "Love you, Booth."
"Love you too, Bones," he responds, dipping his head for a chaste kiss before they climb into the taxi. He gives the driver their home address, his pupils widening as Brennan begins to press hot kisses along his strong jawline. Her kisses move down his neck, her nimble hands reaching out to undo his shirt buttons. His mouth drops open. "Bones. What're you doing?" He hisses.
"Undressing you, obviously," she says, a pleased smirk on her face.
"Not yet you're not." He re-buttons the top half of his shirt, the tips of his ears reddening as he catches the knowing smile the driver shoots him through the rear-view mirror.
"But Booooth," she whines, pressing her body up against his. "You look so sexy right now and I want to-."
"No, Bones," he whispers, fighting every urge within him to just go along with her actions. "Just wait a bit longer until we're in our bedroom, OK?"
"OK." Booth laughs loudly as she sullenly folds her arms across her breasts, looking like a petulant child.
He somehow manages to resist her advances for the rest of the journey home. Once the taxi pulls to a stop, Booth hands over the appropriate bills and the driver winks lewdly at him. "Enjoy the rest of your evening, sir."
The FBI agent just shakes his head (silently thinking "I damn well will, thank you very much") and gets out, hurrying round to assist Brennan out of her side. He shuts the door behind her and snakes his arm around her waist as he carefully leads her down the long driveway to their house, trying to make sure that she doesn't fall over and hurt herself in the heels she's extremely unstable on.
They reach their front door and he stops abruptly. "Remember, Bones, the kids are asleep, so we've gotta be quiet, mm'k?"
She presses her finger to her lips and makes an exaggerated "shhh" sound.
Satisfied that she understands she needs to be silent (drunk Brennan has a tendency to knock over a lot of things, making as much noise as she possibly can), he unlocks the door and follows his wife inside. The smell that hits him as he crosses the threshold is overpowering; he can almost taste the smoke.
"Is something burning?" He asks aloud.
It's then that his kitchen comes into his line of sight and he swears his heart rate soars into the stratosphere.
He's never seen his kitchen so… so… disastrous. It looks like a war zone. Baking tools strewn everywhere, flour sugar and egg spilt all over the place, creating not only a sticky mess, but a pungent eggy odour that makes him feel more than a little sick. The oven door has been thrown open with a tray of black, smoking rocks resting precariously on the edge of the tray that sits half-in and half-out of the oven, like someone had tried to pull it out, but gave up mid-way through. Amidst all the chaos, Christine, Michael and Aubrey sit on the bar stools, each of them fast asleep, their heads lying on the countertop. They may as well have been dead to the world.
Booth sighs as he gently lifts Christine into his arms - still wearing her dirty apron over her pyjamas - to take her to bed. He should have known leaving four kids alone for the evening would lead to his house being destroyed.
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