Disclaimer: Have no claim over characters.
Authors note: Hey guys, this story gets a little unclear who is being referred to sometimes. THIS WAS WRITTEN IN FREE WRITING STYLE as in everything that came to mind was written, its fun you should try it, it creates its own plot!
I'll just help by pointing out Brennan= Annabelle, Booth= William, Angela= The pretty girl, Hodgins= Goldilocks, and the man who observes is referred to as just the man or (the)Umbrella-man. The names are explained in the story.
Please keep in mind this guy is not entirely there, as in he is a cherry short of a fruit salad/ not all lights on upstairs/ any other euphemisms you prefer. This is sadly due to both age and the fact he misses his daughter so much.
One more thing, the story jumps from the Umbrella-Man's point of view to just narrator speaking (and a little bit of omniscience too sorrrrrry.) Keep that in mind.
Please Enjoy!
At the Club...
Booth danced and reached for the stars he jumped around. Temperance was balanced precariously on his shoulders and she swung her arms upwards to the beat which pulsed through his muscular body. He laughed. A pure sound ringing through the night. She could have sworn the stars reflected his laugh although that was physically impossible and the laws of physics could not be broken. In a dark shadow a man watched, he was slim and rat-like with a twitching mustache of burnt umber and a long yellow umbrella which he frequently poked his underlings with. He worked at the bank as a manager, and a very unpopular one at that, probably due to his non-existent sense of humor. Then again, it could have been due to his insistence on turning up to parties that his employees attended and then reminding them of that same party for the rest of their working career. He particularly enjoyed it when they got drunk and swore at him or asked for a promotion. He would laugh and had been known to record them and put the videos on Youtube and send the link to any future employers when they left the firm. Yes, one could say he wasn't the most loved manager of all time.
He had a particular interest in this couple because the girl, with her shining curls, angelic voice and pearlescent skin reminded him of his daughter, who had coincidentally not talked to him for 15 years. He reflected on the fact that it wasn't entirely his fault. The hit man had agreed after all. Boyfriends were expendable and that boy... The man with the umbrella boiled with anger. That bastard had been beating his beloved darling. There was nothing else for it. She had been to hospital 12 times and while she was there, he had sold her house and kept the money. He lied, he cheated. He was beyond a bad person. But the real problem with the situation in front of him, was that these two people, lost in the moment, mellowed with Shirley Temples, Bloody Marys and Lemon Drop cocktails, dancing below the stars, were laughing, their faces alight with drunken happiness. That man. His swarthy, dark appearance, the way he held the girl, the man with an umbrella imagined her name was Annabelle, like his daughter. Was he worthy? Could he be trusted or would he just hurt Annabelle like George Taller had so many years ago. He couldn't help but notice the care which the man placed Annabelle on the ground with, they way he pushed a stray curl off of her cheek and grinned down at her. Umbrella man heard her speak, a low, secretive voice.
"Booth, that was so much fun!" Her comment was punctuated with an unrestrained laugh. Annabelle had been such a beautiful child, she still was, really, both beautiful and child-like. He had been observing the two for some weeks now. They had completed some sort of case as far as he could ascertain. She worked at the Jeffersonian. Annabelle had always loved that museum, he didn't know that she wanted to work there, though. The muscular man squeezed Annabelle's arm, Booth she called him. What a stupid name to call your child. What happened to good old fashioned names, he looked like a William. That's what his name was. Yes, William. William and Annabelle reentered the club and he watched as though through a haze of time. William held her arm, like a gentleman, he held the door for her. They left the garden allowing the pulsating music to thud sadly outside with no one to dance to it. The man with the umbrella surely wouldn't cater to the music's desire to be danced to. He was much too old. Now the man saw another couple. A small, solid man. He had curls, they wound on his head like a pan scrubber aptly named Goldilocks tm. Goldilocks he would be called. He was with a girl. Her face was lit up, she was surely a beauty. He overheard the conversation.
"What was that?" they laughed together, foreheads almost touching.
"Yeah who knew Bren would let him do that...? their lips were brushing. The Umbrella-man looked away, embarrassed. All of a sudden William and Annabelle reentered.
The Umbrella-man heard a soft "Oops..." Uttered from William's mouth. But the two broke apart, still smiling, unfazed by their interruption.
"So, enjoy the dancing, sweetie?" The pretty girl asked Annabelle.
"Yes," laughed Annabelle. She seemed so free of troubles. Unlike when he had last seen her with patches of broken skin on her face and dark bruising on her skinny arms. He wanted to go and embrace her. Tell her to be careful with William, they could rarely be trusted. Annabelle suddenly and unexpectedly hugged William, who blushed slightly, hugging her back. Her warm hair tickled his cheek and she radiated a lemonish smell. The man with the umbrella hissed.
"What was that?" An attentive Goldilocks looked up, bright eyes catching on the bush where Umbrella-man hid. They were instantly all on alert, Booth reached for his gun, the man noticed William's movement and felt almost proud. This man would protect his Annabelle. He quickly and stealthily, for a man of his years, slipped from the bush and slid out of the club's fence through a small hole. He crouched where he was, still able to see and hear Goldilocks, Pretty girl, Annabelle and William. He held his breath, his legs cramping a little.
Angela peered into the bush.
"Nothing now..." she directed a smile at Booth's protective stance in front of Annabelle/Brennan.
"Probably some cat," Hodgins hypothesized.
Brennan raised her head from Booth's warm chest. She reached for his gun and he gave it up with no fight due to his preoccupation with the innocent bush.
"At a club?" he replied warily.
"I like your gun, Booth." Bones interjected.
Hodgins choked on his martini.
"Insert sexual innuendo here" he snorted choking on the olive. Ange couldn't help joining in. Booth seemingly missed the whole exchange.
"I like it too, can I have it back, Bones?"
"Mm..." She curled back against his chest partly hidden in his jacket. Why was she so freakin' adorable when she was drunk?
"Lets do shots!" Angela said, she and Hodgins headed for the doorway back into the club. Bones still clung to Booth, Unmoving.
"Bones, let's go back in." He half carried her towards the door after she replied with a barely audible "I'm good here," or at least it sounded like that... William paused.
The Umbrella-man saw him reach in to his pocket and pull out a tiny something. At first the man feared for Annabelle and was ready to leap out to save her. But he saw what Annabelle could not, a ring studded with jewels, he was too far to see it clearly but he could recognize expensive jewelery from miles away after extensive searching for an 18th birthday present of a ring for Annabelle so many years ago.
He held his breath and strained his eyes behind the thick lenses.
"Tempe..." Annabelle pulled away slightly; she hadn't yet noticed the little box enclosing the gleaming ring.
The man suddenly smiled, an almost unheard of thing for him, he slipped back into the darkness to his car and left the scene. He could trust William, he could see it in those bright eyes, so intent on her every movement, and by the tiny gift he held which symbolised the beginning of something, something beautiful. With teary eyes, the man reflected that maybe tomorrow he would finally award a pay rise to his deserving underlings at the bank. But first... he pulled the car over and walked up the street a little way, he tossed his umbrella in the overflowing rubbish bin and reached in his pocket for the cell phone that he rarely used. Scrolling through his contacts he found 'Annabelle' and pressed 'Call'.
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