AN: Okay so this idea has been in my head for practically forever. I'm not really a big fan of the fics out there that involve Bones getting pregnant and having kids and all that. However, I mused over it for a while and decided I liked the idea of Bren becoming a foster parent. So, here we go.
Also with this fic, I'm trying to fit in lyrics and/or titles of every song on my iPod. (Those would be the underlined sentences.)
This fic is told in foster child, Kim,'s POV. She is about 14 or 15. I got the name from my sister's best friend, who is kinda like a half-sister to me. Kim L, if your reading this, although you probably aren't, hi! And don't even think about going and reading some of my other fics! You're not old enough!
I was just getting started on my study sheet for Accelerated Biology when the doorbell chimed. I got up from my seat on the couch and opened the door a fraction. Standing on the doorstep was a tall, muscular man, about mid-thirties, with brown hair and darker eyes.
"Hey Booth," I greeted, and opened the door wider so my foster mother's work partner (and so much more, not that they admitted it) could get in.
"Hi Kim. Bones here?" "Bones" was Special Agent Seeley Booth's nickname for my foster mother, Dr. Temperance Brennan. Only he and his adorable son, Parker, got the privilege of calling her that. Anyone else got a death glare from both Bren (that's what I call her) and Booth. Bren and Booth worked together to solve crimes for the FBI; Booth as an agent, Bren as the forensic anthropologist.
"Yeah, I think she's in her office," I told him. "BREN, BOOTH IS HERE!!!!" I hollered.
Booth gave me a irked look. "You know, I could've done that."
"Yeah, but probably not as loud."
"I'LL BE RIGHT THERE!!" Bren yelled from the back of the apartment. Booth sat down in his respective spot on the couch, right where I had been working.
"Gee, thanks." I snapped teasingly, moving the laptop I'd been pounding on furiously to the dining room table.
"No problemo," he responded, looking around the apartment. It had changed a lot since he'd last been here three weeks ago. My passion is photography, and Bren and I had spent the last two weekends developing the pictures I'd captured since coming to live with her two months ago in the Jeffersonian darkroom. We'd framed the good ones and hung them throughout the apartment; more than thirty were in the dining room and living room alone. She and I at the fundraiser for my school, where my friend Lilian had captured a shot of us laughing at a table covered in a plastic blue tablecloth. She and her best friend/coworker Angela, throwing clothing out of Bren's closet as they searched for an outfit for Angela's birthday dinner/club-hopping celebration. Angela in her wedding gown, before she became Angela Hodgins. Me and my friends Lilian, Josh, Courtney and Trevor, before our homecoming. Close-ups of flowers at a nearby park. And tons of photos of her and Booth; them bending over evidence in the lab; Bren showing Booth how to change magnification on a transmitting electron microscope; the two sitting in this very room at midnight, going though paperwork and gesturing at each other with chopsticks from their take-out Chinese food.
Pictures of you, pictures of me, up upon your wall, for the world to see.
"Like the pics?" I asked, as he stared at the one with the takeout for a full minute, a smile spreading across his face. I thought it was so funny how they were so into each other but did nothing. They were as bad as me and my friends; dancing around our crushes, unsure of the next move to make, wondering if the other person could possible ever feel the same way.
"Yeah, they're awesome. I didn't know you had your camera...that often."
"I always have my camera. Beware."
"Oh, great. Just fantastic. What is taking Bones so long?"
"Want me to find out? BREN!!!!"
"WHAT?! I'M COMING IN TWO SECONDS!!!"
"What is it with women and yelling? I swear..." Booth muttered. Just then, music blasted from the direction of Bren's office.
Cash rules everything around me...sing a dollar dollar bill y'all...
"Where's the volume on this g-song thing, Kim?" Bren yelled over the music.
Booth and I both rolled our eyes, got up and made our way to the office. The lyrics blaring where almost deafening. Booth leaned down next to my foster mother, put his hand over hers on the mouse, and directed the cursor to the VOLUME tap on the lower half of the screen. The lyrics faded into a soft chant.
"First of all, Bones, it's iTunes. Second, hi. Third, why are you listening to Wyclef Jean?"
"I'm introducing her to pop music," I explained from the doorway to the office.
"Good luck," Booth laughed, taking his hand off hers and standing up straight. Bren glared at him.
"For your information, I actually like some of the songs."
His eyebrows shot up in genuine sunrise. "Nu-uh. Which ones?"
"The one high-pitched guy. What's his name, Kim?"
"Mika." I entered the office and clicked on Mika's album.
"Never heard of him," Booth said, as if it proved something.
"Just because you haven't heard it doesn't mean it's not good," Bones commented.
"I never said that."
"It was implied in your tone!"
"Was not! I was simply stating that I've never heard of him."
You talk about life and talk about death and everything in between
like it's nothing, and the words are easy
You talk about me and talk about you and everything I do
like it's something that needs repeating
I don't need an alibi,
you're for you to realize
the things we've left unsaid are probably taking space up in our heads
make it my fault, win the game, point the figure, place the blame,
toss me up and down, doesn't matter now...
"That's Mika," I said pointedly. "Now you've heard of him."
"Are you sure he's pop? I mean, he doesn't sound very...hip-hop or rap."
I bit my lip. "Heard this song?"
Never find a love like this,
Never find a love like this
Oh we go back so far, swinging in your back yard, all the things that we used to do,
we were cool back in high school, ooh I really liked you...
"Yeah, that's that British singer."
"Natasha Beddingfield," Bren announced.
"Yeah. Hey, how did you know that?"
"It's pretty common knowledge, actually. I guess you're just...behind, or out of it, or whatever people call it."
Booth took that as a challenge. "I am not! Come on, give me another song."
I shrugged indifferently and , turning the screen so the partners couldn't see it, picked another song.
You're a falling star, you're the getaway car
You're the line in the sand, when I go too far,
You're a swimming pool on an August day,
You're the perfect thing to say,
And you play it coy, but it's kinda cute,
And when you smile at me you know exactly what you do,
Baby, don't pretend that you don't know it's true,
Cause you can see it when I look at you
I pressed pause.
"That was NOT a pop song!"
"It is too," I argued. "A lot of people know it and like it." Actually, I wasn't sure if that was true. But I played it because it pretty much summed up Bren and Booth's relationship. Plus I knew there was a pretty good chance that he didn't know it.
"It's by Michael Buble," Bren volunteered from her seat. Both were now sitting on the small loveseat in the back of the office; Bren on the seat and Booth on the armrest. He was leaning partially on her but I don't think she noticed. With anyone else it would've been a right-arm twist and then a flip over your shoulders. But with Booth, she hardly noticed anymore. She was so accustomed to him being in her personal space.
"Do another one, one that DEFINITELY is a pop song," Booth demanded, obviously trying to recover his dignity.
Music make you lose control, music make you lose control, let's go!...
I got a cute face, chubby waist, thick legs, into shape,
rump shaking both ways, make you do a double take,
"Missy Elliot, Lost Control!" Booth shouted, nearly falling off his perch on the armrest.
"Yep." Without prompt, I played another song. To my knowledge, Booth had not come for work (he had neither paperwork nor a case file), Bren was simply figuring out iTunes, as her latest novel had just been sent in for final revisions, and I...well, Bio could wait.
Check it out, going out on the late night,
looking tight, feeling nice, it's a cock fight
I can tell, I just know that it's going down...tonight.
"Pink, U+Ur Hand," Bren answered after three lines.
"How'd you know that one? I've never heard it before." Booth asked, curious this time, instead of bewildered.
"Angela made me listen to it. She said it was my personal theme song or something like that."
"I can see that," I laughed, recalling the rest of the lyrics.
"Huh? Play the rest,"
Okay, Booth, but I don't think you'll like it.
At the door, we don't wait cause we know them
At the bar, six shots, just beginning
That's when dick-head put his hands on me,
but you see...
I'm not here for your entertainment,
you don't really wanna mess with me tonight
Just stop and take a second,
I was fine before you walked into my life
Cause you know it's over, before it began
Keep your drink, just gimme the money
Just you and your hand tonight!
"Yeah, that sounds about right," Booth said, slightly begrudgingly. "Anyway, enough guessing songs. I'm proving my lack of intelligence more than I usually do at the lab."
"Wait, this one's my favorite," Bren clicked on a title.
Whatcha want, whatcha got living life in a cross-phase?
I'd help you out but you don't want a chance at a better life.
You said you never took around and now you wanna play?
Well it's a big big city, lemme show you a real good time,
oh, some time.
And now you've crossed that line,
you can't come back, tell me how's it feel now?
Too late, too much to forget about,
can't stop now, how does it feel now?
My eyes widened as I heard reference after reference to Booth and Bren's relationship. The "Line" that Booth had drawn (Bren told me about this boundary the first time I commented that she and Booth seemed into each other). Them knowing that they loved each other, and that the feeling and the bonds were growing too strong to ignore much longer. I slowly backed out of the room as I saw a similar comprehension dawn on both their faces; Booth first, the Bren.
"Here, my turn to pick," I heard Booth say. There was silence and then I heard a familiar guitar solo emit from the room. I quietly walked into my room and grabbed my (ever-so-expensive) camera off of its special shelf. Then, tiptoing back into the hallway, I stopped outside the office door and aimed the lense into the opening between the ajar door and the wall.
Like a gift from the heavens, it was easy to tell
It was love from above that could save me from hell,
Putting my eyes to the viewfinder, I saw the two were now standing, Booth mouthing the lyrics along with Chad Kroeger and air-guitaring to Santana, Bren next to him with a grin threatening to split her face.
She had fire in her soul, it was easy to see
Booth pointed to Bren, and her smile lit up her face as she began to rock her body to the beat of the music.
How the devil himself could be pulled outta me
There were drums in the air as she started to dance,
every soul in the room keeping time with their hands
Booth stopped playing the invis-guitar and offered Bren his hand. She placed her fingers in his palm and, like they'd been doing it forever, fell into a salsa dance.
And we sang a-oh-way, oh-way-oh-way,
And the voices ring like the angels sing,
And singing a-oh-way, oh-way-oh-way,
And we danced on into the night.
My shutter was doing a dance of its own, clicking in time with their fancy footwork and synchronized moves. I just knew that these pictures would be the best I'd ever gotten, period. Assuming that the sparks flying around the room didn't wash everything out.
Then I remember the wireless mouse that Bren never used, sitting on the kitchen counter. I abandoned my subjects long enough to dash into the eating area to grab it, and returned. Bren and Booth were still dancing, distracted by each other, which gave me time to practice using the wireless mouse from ten feet away, using the wall as a surface to roll it on.
With my eye on the computer monitor focused in my viewfinder, I selected a song. Oh, if Angela could see this...Hmm, something sexy. Get them really into each other. Then, throw in an emotional slow-dance. We need a pulsing club-beat; rap or hip-hop. Something you can grind to.
Without hesitation I clicked on my own playlist and selected the song I knew would get them to do what I wanted.
The two's tango was rudely interrupted. Whoops. Oh well. They can thank me later.
Work it, make it, do it, makes us
harder, better, faster, stronger.
Tha-tha-tha-that that don't kill me,
can only make us stronger.
I need you to hurry up now,
cause I can't wait much longer,
I know I got to be right now,
Cause I can't get much stronger,
man I been waiting all night now,
that's how long I've been on ya.
My foster mother turned to her partner. "How are you supposed to dance to this kind of song?" I paused it.
Booth rolled his eyes. "Please, Bones. You've been to a club in your life, haven't you?"
"You know I have."
"Do you ever dance?"
"Not really. I usually go with Angela and she dances with the guys. I just stayed at the bar."
"No guys ever grab you onto the floor?"
"Well, there's always one; but after a few twists of the arm, they pretty much get discouraged."
Booth laughed. "That's my Bones. K, I'll show you," Play, "but you have to promise me something." Pause.
"What?"
"Promise me you'll do it before I tell you."
"What? No, Booth! I'm not going to promise until I know what I'm binding myself to."
"Bones..." he growled in warning.
"Just tell me!"
"I promise you, its nothing bad!"
"I trust you with that!"
"Then trust me with this!"
"Okay, fine! I promise! Happy now?"
He grinned. "K, that's more like it."Play. Alright, you, uh..." Pause.
Suddenly, he started to stutter and get flustered. My shutter was sent into a whirlwind of clicking. Seeley Booth, nervous about dancing with a woman! I'd never thought I'd see this day. Ooh, I was gonna have a lot to tell Angela when I saw her again.
"I what?"
"You, um...you face me. And you put your hips against mine...and I put my hands on your waist...and we just..."Play.
Work it harder, make it better, do it faster, makes us stronger.
I need you right now.
Let's get lost tonight, you can be my black Kate Moss tonight...
Picture after picture glowed on my display screen, but my eyes stayed glued to the eyepiece as I held down the shutter button, keeping my camera busy taking constant photos, pieced together to make a movie. At first, they were careful. Then, Bren looked into Booth's eyes, and that's where it all changed. His hands slid from her waist to her back and hips. She pushed herself harder against him, her hands coiling around his neck and pulling his face towards her. Their foreheads met as they moved their hips together, focused on nothing but the person two centimeters away from them. Their hip motions became more forced, and pushy.
Ohmigod I am witnessing a miracle. Angela is going to shatter a few windows with her squeals when she sees these pics. They're really getting into each other. Ewww. A bit too much. Maybe this is where I leave...
Work it harder, make it better, do it faster, makes us stronger.
Work it harder, make it better, do it faster, makes us stronger.
The song had obviously ended all too fast for the couple inside the room.
"Well," Bren said, but she had yet to extract herself from Booth's chest. "Now that you mention it, that does seem familiar."
Booth was simply smiling down gently at her. "Okay, well you have to dance like that with me this Friday night, at Santiago's downtown."
"Was that what I promised to do?"
He nodded.
While they were chatting quietly, I scrolled through my list, looking for the perfect slow-dance song. Then, I saw it. A traditional song for a couples dance, but it would work for this non-traditional couple. Not to mention that it spoke the words they refused to say to each other.
Oh, why you look so sad?
The tears are in your eyes,
come on and come to me now.
Don't...be ashamed to cry.
Let me see you through, cause I've seen a dark side too.
I was afraid that neither of them would be able to figure out what to do with this song, but Bren stepped up to Booth, and he wrapped one arm around her waist, his other palm holding her hand. +Snap, snap+.
"What is that?" Bren wondered quietly.
"What, that snapping sound?"
Shit. My shutter's making too much damned noise.
I upped the volume to try and cover the sound of the camera capturing the moment.
When the night falls on you,
and you don't know what to do.
Nothing you confess, can make me love you less.
I'll stand by you.
I took a brief break from snapping shots to take in the scene before me with my own eyes. Booth's hand had gone from holding hers to joining his other in encircling his waist. Bren had both arms wrapped up his back, her palms resting on his shoulders, her face buried in his chest. He slowly buried his face in her hair. I could tell what was running though his mind. Cause I've seen a dark side, too. We'd all seen dark sides of the world. Booth with his Army and snipers days, and now as a murder investigator. Bren, with her own foster days, and the death she saw everyday in her line of work. And even me, with my mom...hey, they don't put just anyone in social services.
Bren softly clutched the fabric of Booth's white tee-shirt in her hand. Nothing you confess, can make me love you less. No matter what Booth told her, she'd stick with him. His guilt from his sniper days. His days as a high-school jock. And nothing about her, like her cold tendencies towards other people, and her fear of love and commitment, could scare him from her side.
Won't let anyone hurt you, I'll stand by you.
So, if you're mad, get mad.
Don't hold it all inside,
come on and talk to me now.
Hey, what you got to hide?
I get angry too.
But I'm a lot like you.
When you're standing at the crossroads, and you don't know what to do.
Let me come along,
cause even if you're wrong,
I'll stand by you...
I quietly left them to be tangled up in each other, and walked into my room. There were 107 pictures on my camera just waiting to be printed. Maybe one would even earn a spot on the living room wall. And several would make it into the scrapbook that Angela and I were working on, as a gift for the partner pair for their 3-year anniversary.
To: Hodgins, Angela (.)
From: Watson (Brennan), Kim ()
Subject: Scrapbook entries galore!!!!!
Angela,
Hey you will not believe what's going on in the room next to mine. (And get those nasty thoughts outta your head, that's not what I'm talking about.) Booth showed up at the apartment and he and Bren were messing around with iTunes and they ended up dancing (with a little intervention by me, assisted by my portable mouse) and just look at this photo ! If you like it there are more.
Loves and hugs, Kim
I attached one photo, and one photo only; one of them grinding to Stronger, right when they started getting into it. I pressed send and leaned back in my desk chair, listening to Santa Monica come through the walls from the office. Booth and my foster mom were talking in low voices; whether or not they were still dancing, I didn't know.
Deciding to actually get some work done, I clicked on my Bio notes and began adding diagrams and side notes. Right as I was getting into hydrolysis and dehydration synthesis, my monitor +pinged+.
To: Watson (Brennan), Kim ()
From: Hodgins, Angela ()
Subject: You are my new best friend.
Kimmy dear,
OH MY FREAKING LORD!!! WHAT HAPPENED HOW WHEN WHERE WHY AHHHHHH!!!!!! You owe me an explanation and the photos are perfect for the scrapbook (screw celebrating their partnership, this scrapbook is all about getting those two to jump each other.) (Not that it is acceptable to jump people you're not married to, Kim.) Send me more!!!!
~Angela
To: Hodgins, Angela ()
From: Watson (Brennan), Kim ()
Subject: Jumping people and more pictures.
Angela, my # 1 fan,
(Of course its not I know that. +rolls eyes+ Please Angela, I get enough people screaming "abstinence" at me; I go to a catholic school, remember?)
Here are a few more (the first 2 are of them salsa dancing to Into the Night, the next is another grinding, and the last 4 are of them slow-dancing to I'll Stand By You). The rest of the photos will be delivered to you (with a written explanation from me)by Bren. I'll just put them in an envelope and ask her to give them to you. FYI, she and Booth don't know I took these; they don't even know I saw it.
Hey, did you know that both of them know how to salsa-dance? Crazy stuff.
Also, if you want to see this replayed live, go to that club Santiago's on Friday night. Booth made Bren promise that she'd dance with him then and there.
Anyway, the Bio notes are beckoning to me. Enjoy!
Loves and hugs, Kim
I didn't want to say my grin was evil, but it was pretty sneaky and had the hint of "I'm plotting something". The anniversary party was four days away, the pictures were getting to Angela tomorrow, and Booth and Bren were still deep in conversation.
Or were they? I couldn't hear a thing though the walls. It was completely silent, except for the faintest of melodies playing. I tiptoed out of my room and stuck my head into the office. Bren and Booth were sound asleep; He was lying sideways across the couch, and she was sitting on the floor, her head resting against his arm that was on the edge of the cushions.
I undecidedly toyed with the camera in my hand, then make a choice.
"Just one more," I murmured, raising the viewfinder to my eye, steadying the lense with my hand, and capturing the moment with the click of a button and the snap of a shutter.
AN: Songs used (in order): Pictures of You, Sweetest Girl (Dollar Bill), My Interpretation, Love Like This, Music Make You Lose Control, U+Ur Hand, Feel, Into the Night, Stronger, I'll Stand By You.
AN2: That is the longest first chapter I've ever written. If only I could apply these numbers to non-fanfics I write. Oh well. Anyway I always like the idea of them dancing but I always found it hard to write about. So, your reviews determine whether or not other chapters are to follow.
A shout-out to SSJL, krazegirl and flyersfan, who wrote some of my favorite fics. (How I Know, Lyrics and Love + Finding Their Own Words, and Elevator Games) SSJL, you made me laugh harder than I thought humanly possible. Kraze, yours is the only BB marriage fic I ever liked. And Flyersfan, thanks for putting a bunch of LOL twists on a classic getting-together scenario.
And another hola to Jen, who is probably staring at this page, going "God I hate this emotional stuff! Where is the making out and smut, Kia??????" Don't worry dear, it's coming.
One last thing to all readers; please let me know if you've heard Michael Buble's song "Everything" before this fic. I don't know how many people know it, and if you haven't heard it, go look it up on YouTube. I think there is a BB shipper vid with that song.