This was one of the oneshots in my collection called "Collage" but I decided to repost it because it wasn't getting any hits. I left the original posted for the sweet reviews I did get. Thank you for those!
There's a bit about why I wrote this at the bottom. I put it there instead of here because I didn't want to give away the story, so please read the story before you read the end AN.
Disclaimer: I'm glad I don't own Bones, because Hart Hanson is doing a hellova good job! Even EitB I thought was great, even though a lot of fans didn't like it. It's one of my favorite episodes.
Brennan walked out of her kitchen with two beers in her hands and gave one to Booth as she sat next to him on the couch. Another case closed, another murderer off the streets and now was the time to relax.
"Thanks" said Booth, popping the cap off of the bottle and taking a swig.
When he sat back against the back of the couch he noticed something below the table top of the coffee table. A large book.
"What's this?" he smiled, pulling the book out and laying it on his lap and starting to open it.
Brennan jolted up from the pillow she was leaning against, "That's nothing!" she said, trying to grab it from his hands, but he pulled it away.
He smile reached his eyes with her reaction, "What do you have to hide?"
His smile faded when he saw the distress and pain in her eyes at what he was doing to her. She was acting as if it were her diary.
"What's wrong, Bones?" he asked softly, giving up the tease and handing her the album, her hands grasping it quickly as if she thought he would pull it away the moment she got close to taking it back.
She laid it in her lap with her hands on top of it, pushing it down like it would pop open and spill her secrets if she didn't. Sighing deeply Brennan opened the first page.
"You don't have to show me if you don't want to." he said quickly, fearing he made her feel obligated to show him.
"No, Booth, it's okay. It's a scrap book of pictures from my teenage years." she said slowly, letting Booth look over her shoulder at the photos.
On the first page was two pictures. One of the Brennans outside of what Booth assumed to be their home. It was snowing and there were twinkling Christmas lights hung from the roof. Probably the last picture she had of her family together. The next photo was of a nineteen year old Russ with his arm around a fifteen year old Temperance's shoulders, both smiling sweetly. She turned the page. That was where the photos of foster families began. Page after page the photos were the same. Temperance standing behind several other kids and her then foster parents. She seemed invisible, always pushed half out of the picture by someone else, but Booth's eyes quickly found his partner in every picture as if he knew the photos well.
The next page she turned to was different. There was just one picture, of a smiling sixteen year old Temperance, standing in front of the Philadelphia Museum of Art with a boy who had his hand on her lower back and a smile that was charming to say the least. His brown eyes twinkled with happiness, as did her blue eyes. Booth's eyes widened as his lips curled into a mischievous smile.
"Who's that?" he asked innocently, seeing the her smile softly as she stared at the picture.
"It was my junior class trip to Philadelphia." Brennan began, "On the last day, my class visited the Philadelphia Museum of Art. As I was taking a picture of the building I stepped back, unaware that the steps were behind me, and started to fall backwards when he caught me. He saved my life."
After a pause she continued. "We spent the rest of that day together. That night we went back to the steps of the Museum and just sat there talking until curfew." she said, "Before he drove me back to my hotel, while we were still on the steps where we met, he gave me my first kiss."
"Whatever happened to him?" Booth inquired, still a smile on his face, unnoticed by his partner.
"We exchanged phone numbers before I left. But when I got home, my foster mother caught me when I was dialing his number and snatched the paper from my hand, read the name and tore it to shreds, saying I was a whore." the last sentence was an almost whisper.
Booth laid a hand on her arm and she looked up at him for a moment with a half smile before looking back at the picture, "I would just like to know why he never called me."
"Because I lost your number when we had a fire at my house." he said softly, Brennan turning to look at him with wide eyes.
"What? No, his name was -"
"Joseph." he finished for her, "I went by my middle name from the first day of middle school until college."
Brennan was speechless as she stared at Booth, then at the picture, then back at Booth, trying to figure out how she had missed it. He just smiled his charm smile at her and shrugged, raising his eyebrows in a 'what can I say?' manor. She put the album down on the coffee table and turned so she was facing Booth completely.
"How did I not recognize you? I mean, yes, you have changed drastically, but still..." she shook her head slightly.
"I always wondered why I felt like we'd met before." he said, his smile turning down a few watts until only the corners of his lips were turned up.
"You were the first boy I ever kissed..." she smiled softly at him.
"Can I be the last too?" his smile wattage peeked again as he cupped her face in his hands and leaned in, pressing his lips to hers.
I know the "Booth and Bones met as teens" plot has been overdone as much as the rewriting Wannabe In The Weeds/Pain In The Heart, and I honestly don't like the "BB met as teens" plot mainly because if they had, you know Booth would have saved Bones from the horrible car trunk punishment. I mean, come ON! Of course he would have! Why? Because he's a hottie hero, and that's why I love him :)
But anyways, we all know there is no fighting the plot bunnies that build nests inside our brains and force us to write, and the only way to evict them is to write the story, so this was my take on the "BB met as teens" plot. I hope you liked it. Whether you did or didn't, please review. They make me so happy :)