Here's a fun short piece that I wanted to write for a while ever once my story A Promise Is A Promise. It is not related to that one or it's sequel Hard Work Rewarded. I hope you all enjoy it. Gregg. Disclaimer: I don't own, or profit from, these characters or franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Bones had been acting strangely all week in Booth's opinion. Not that a lot of what his wife did wasn't strange in his opinion, but this little goodie trumped them all. He'd noticed her reading the Bible early in the week. Now that was strange in itself considering her very rigid views on religion and the Man Upstairs, but he wasn't about to argue if someone was desiring to gain some wisdom and insight from the Good Book. But this was Bones he was talking about, so he was understandably curious, and a little nervous.
On Tuesday he noticed her reading a biography of Pope Benedict XVI, and also a somewhat heavy theological work on Christ. What the Hell was going on? Had Bones seen the light somehow and he'd missed it? If so, then his powers of observation must be slipping big time to have missed that sort of massive quantum shift.
Wednesday brought a real shock to his system when she insisted that they stop in at the National Cathedral where he was stunned speechless when she lit a candle for her Mother. He was so shell shocked that he didn't even bring the subject up at all.
When Thursday rolled around Booth was so nervous about what was going on with Bones that he called her primary physician, and then her, ahem, female doctor, and demanded to know if she was suffering from any fatal illness. Naturally he was rebuffed with the tried and true BS about doctor/patient confidentiality. He'd always hated that pathetic cop out that Doctors whipped out at the slightest twitch.
By Friday afternoon at the office Booth was so flustered that he did something that he only rarely ever did. He called Sweets. Let's face it, the walking pimple may be a real cluster fuck when it came to he and Bones' relationship, and had caused some real delays in getting to the wedded bliss and parenthood (Of Parker, that is. He was still working on the idea of Bones having one of her own, but she was not to keen on the idea anymore since her initial interest when he'd had his brain tumor) that they now enjoyed, but the little shit did have some good insight into Bones in most other areas. And what did the twelve year old have to say? Ask her. Yep. All that education and study the kid always bragged about and all he could come up with was to suggest asking her what was up. Getting Bones to divulge anything unless she was damn good and ready was like squeezing water from a damn rock.
Saturday was the day that all was revealed. Oh, it was nothing that an ordinary person couldn't appreciate, and applaud, but coming from Bones, it was like the parting of the Red Sea. We're talking mucho miracle time here, people.
"Booth, I'd like to begin attending Mass with you and Parker," she'd said calmly while he was taking a sip of his morning coffee.
He'd like to be able to say that his reaction was adult, and considerate. That would be lying, though. In reality Booth spewed his mouthful of coffee across the table, coughed up a lung, and stared at her incredulously, and a bit of fear. Once he was breathing again, and not hacking up everything in his lungs, he said the first thing that came to him.
"Am I being punished for something?" he asked. Bones had a real vindictive streak in her when she let it out of hibernation, which he saw firsthand when he spent a week on the couch when she got pissed at him for flirting with a witness. It was all in the line of duty, and only to get information, but to Bones it was a major no no of the first order. Hence the couch. His back was still cursing him nine months later.
"No," Bones replied, calmly sipping her tea.
"Are you trying to get me excommunicated so that you'll be able to keep me home on Sunday morning every week?" he questioned further. Now that one had some potential. She was always interested in a thorough morning workout in bed with one Seeley Booth on Sundays, and Mass did seem to get in the way. Her glares as he would get dressed and leave the bedroom on Sunday mornings to head out to Mass ranked right up there with those she reserved for serial killers.
Bones chuckled at his questioning. "Of course not," she told him. "I just feel that it is important to do activities as a family, and one that many families do is attend church together. Is that so difficult to believe?"
He had to admit that her answer was a completely rational, and rather touching, response. How could one argue with that? But he did anyway?
"But Bones, you don't even believe in...well...you know..." he trailed off with a hesitant pointing of his finger up in the air.
"Your imaginary friend?" she teased with a smile as she sipped some more tea.
Booth, to his credit, didn't start an argument over her blasphemous statement, though he sorely wanted to. Instead he just sighed. "He is not imaginary," he said simply. Now was not the time to bicker about the existence of God, no matter how mind blowing the make up sex would be. He finally caved. "Alright," he conceded. Reluctantly. Very reluctantly. "You can go with us."
By the end of Mass Booth was ready to tear his hair out. The pathetic part was that he had no reason to be this antsy. Bones had gotten up that morning and gotten ready for Mass as if she'd been doing it her whole life. She dressed very nicely, but very appropriately for a church service. She'd had a lively discussion with Parker during breakfast about school and how he was doing on his science project. She'd even gone out of her way to make Booth a sizable breakfast of pancakes, bacon, and eggs, along with fresh squeezes orange juice. Organic, of ourselves. No shrunken genitals on this home front! That despite his ardent protests that there had been nothing wrong with Junior and the Boys in the first place. All during the service she had aid attention and by some miracle had not asked one single question. She'd even listened with what appeared to be rapt attention when Father Mitch had given a homily on sexual immorality in modern society. Everything he could have possibly asked for when agreeing to let Bones come to Mass with him. But he couldn't shake the feeling that the bomb was still just seconds away from going off.
Booth thought maybe he was home free when they were exiting the church, but that's when it happened. He'd been so damn close. But the ugly hand of fate showed itself. They were the last ones out and Father Mitch was waiting to wish them well, when Bones opened her mouth.
"I was wondering if I could discuss with you some questions I have about the Catholic Church at some point when it is convenient for you," she asked Father Mitch.
"I'd be delighted to answer any questions you have," came the reply that Booth was dreading as soon as Bones spoke up.
"Bones," Booth hissed. "Father Mitch is a busy man."
"I think I can make time for the infamous Bones your always talking about, Seeley," Father Mitch said with a smile.
Bones smiled widely. She pulled a file folder out of her ever present shoulder bag and handed it to Father Mitch. "Here are some initial questions I prepared from my own investigations this past week," she told him, ignoring the shocked look on Father Mitch's face as he flipped through some of the pages, his eyes widening. She also ignored the groan coming from Booth. "You'll notice I divided the questions into specific categories, and a number of them are in several parts. While this is by no means all of my questions, these should allow me to further develop my inquiries. Booth is always mentioning how enlightening you are, so I believe that you are the best person to ask these questions."
Mitch looked at Booth and glared mildly. "Oh, really?" he said.
"I also have some questions about your homily," she continued. "Most important of them being, is a person a good Catholic if they continue to use birth control despite Church doctrine to the contrary?"
"Bones!" Booth said in strident tones. "It's time to get on home! Talk to you soon, Mitch!" he said as he hustled Bones away from his parish priest. He could feel a migraine coming on as he considered all the penance he would be suffering through after his next confession.
"I think that went rather well," Bones said with a smile from her seat in the SUV.
Booth simply sighed. "Just don't get me excommunicated, Bones," he pleaded. "I happen to like being a Catholic."
Bones just smiled and enjoyed listening to him groan in frustration. It was fun getting Booth flustered. Now she began thinking of ways to get him worked into a frenzy this week now that her plan for the prior week had worked so well.
A/N: Well, Bones does indeed have a wicked sense of humor. I hope you enjoyed this one. Gregg.
