A/N: first of all, bazillion thanks go to my two betas: first, my best friend, for knowing stuff about babies, and second, beccers4469 on LiveJournal, for being epic at Bones canon, since I haven't seen every episode yet, and pointing out that flashbacks in italics would be extremely helpful.
Secondly, this fic contains spoilers for what will probably be the season four finale, so if you don't want to know, DO NOT READ. Let me repeat: SPOILERS WITHIN. PURISTS, TURN BACK! I love you guys. And so now, I present to you…
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The Transparent Man in the Maternity Ward
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He hadn't meant to be so easily seen through.
Special Agent Seeley Booth sits in a birthing suite in the Washington Hospital Center, drumming his fingers against the arm of the rather uncomfortable chair. A woman lies on the bed, grunting in pain and clutching, with one hand, at the hospital bed, her knuckles white and her fingernails digging into her palms. Her other hand is wrapped around Booth's. The midwife cues the woman to inhale, and she responds by drawing in ragged breaths.
She had said something about her biological clock. Something about endorphins and it being natural.
Her groans get louder and Booth looks up from the carpet tile he is inspecting. Her eyes are squeezed shut and she grips his hand so hard that he inadvertently clenches his jaw.
The sky outside the maternity ward is a sky only ever seen in a painting. There are three-dimensional-big silver towers rising above diminutive wisps of cream on a backdrop of deep blue.
She talked about it like it was just science, but when she showed up at his apartment, it felt remarkably emotional for something so technical, and even more so once they got to his bedroom.
The memories still make him slightly uncomfortable, and his gaze drifts from the woman in the bed to the flowers on the windowsill.
"Hey," a soft voice says from the door, and he turns his head.
"Angela," he says, gratitude evident in his voice. "I'm so glad you made it."
She grins. "Traffic was god-awful." Setting her purse down, she crosses the room and hugs Booth. "But I'm here to see Rowena Sophrosyne Brennan come into the world. You didn't think I'd miss this, did you?"
"Of course not." Still clutching Brennan's hand, he stands to hug Angela with one arm. "What the hell kind of name is that, anyway?"
Thin eyebrows shoot up Angela's forehead as she laughs. "Were you not a part of naming the baby?" Booth shakes his head. "You are the father."
"She didn't really…"
"I know." She looks at the floor, and the look on her face is sympathetic. "I'm sorry. She likes to think it was just science."
Just science. The way he felt that night had not been purely scientific.
He lets go of Brennan's hand and pulls Angela to a corner of the room, turning his back to his partner. "If it had just been science she could have gone to a sperm bank. I could have just donated."
Angela sighs and rests a hand on Booth's shoulder. "Even Brennan has emotions. Seeley is a German name meaning 'blessed,' and Rowena means the same in Old English. Sophrosyne is Greek for 'temperance.' I know what she told you—that it was purely to achieve her goal—but we both know there's more to this relationship than just Brennan's biological clock. Give her time, Booth. She'll get there."
The sound of her breath in his ear. The taste of her smile. His arm reduced to pins and needles by morning because she decided it made a good pillow.
Booth turns away from Angela. "I don't know what you're talking about."
She leans in and whispers, the words barely audible. "Just because Brennan's in labor doesn't mean she can't hear us. I know how you feel about her… actually, everyone does except Brennan herself. You two are best friends. You will be a part of Rowena's life. Brennan will not let you go. I promise."
As Brennan's noises of exertion fade into the background, he can still hear her voice in his head from ten months ago. "I want you to father my child." As if the thought of Dr. Temperance Brennan having a child wasn't enough, she didn't want to pay for artificial insemination. "We're both single, there is nobody to get jealous or offended, and it's completely natural. And inexpensive. There's no reason for me to pay to have a needle do something that you will do for free." He had jokingly responded, "I'm not that easy," but Brennan's literal mind took him seriously. "Would you like for me to pay? I'd be more than happy to compensate you for your time and DNA."
Booth shifted his weight, deliberately avoiding meeting Angela's eyes. "This child is not mine. As far as I'm concerned, this kid is one hundred percent Bones. A clone."
But he had been easy. It took no convincing on Brennan's part to arrange a "sleepover," as he self-consciously called it. A month later, they went out to dinner—on her, as he could tell she felt a bit guilty that he turned down money—and he drove her back to his apartment with her duffle bag in the backseat like high school kids sneaking away from helicopter parents. The drive was silent as Booth guided the Audi R8 through the night toward an uncertain outcome.
"Rowena is half you. Brennan chose you because—"
The doctor and midwife cut off Angela's words with an excited shout of "Here she comes!" Angela and Booth rush to Brennan's sides and grip her hands as she sits up and yells in frustration. After a few tense seconds, a scream, one last push, and a small smack sound, a loud crying erupts in the room and Brennan falls back down on the bed, a smile crossing her face.
The doctor shows her the baby and hands Booth the scissors to cut the umbilical cord. "Would the father like to do the honors?"
All four of her pregnancy tests were positive when she showed up at his apartment barely two weeks later. She had them spread out like a poker hand when he opened the door, each one different in its indication of the exciting news. Although it was a happy moment for both of them, the hug he gave her felt awkward after how close they had so recently been. They hadn't gone back to that place—the mental place; he still slept in that bedroom, obviously—since that night. In fact, their relationship had gotten somewhat uncomfortable once they knew that a little bit of them both was growing inside her.
Booth takes the scissors and gently snips the cord, and Rowena is whisked away to be bathed. The doctor returns a few minutes later, the child clean and wrapped in a blanket, and hands the baby—Rowena, Booth reminds himself—to Brennan and her smile grows even wider, giving Rowena the smile that she usually reserves for Booth. Apparently, all the pain that caused her to scream so loudly dissipates completely when the baby is in her arms.
The rain swept down the alleys and gutters and stole with it any awkwardness that may have gotten in the way. Booth slid the key home, his hand shaking slightly. But once they got inside, Brennan took no time pushing him up against the wall, and he didn't protest.
While Brennan feeds Rowena, Booth sits on a couch across the room and drops his head into his hands, and Angela sits beside him.
"She has your eyes. And your hair. Sweetie, that's not a clone."
As lightning split a tree across the street and smoke filled the air, he tried to scoop Brennan up and place her on the bed like in old movies, his romantic side coming out, but she protested and insisted on walking next to him. He supposed it was to prove that they were equals, but when they got to the bedside, he tossed her onto the duvet cover and grinned.
"I know. But it wasn't supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be one night to make a mini-Bones. This girl—Rowena—was not supposed to resemble me, and one night was not supposed to change anything. It never has before."
"You've never had one night with Brennan. That's why. You want more."
The clouds had long shed their black robes and donned pink when the sun burst from the horizon that morning. He was lying wide-awake with Brennan curled up against his side, her arms wrapped around his shoulder. She pressed her face to his neck. "Booth."
"Booth." A familiar husky voice calls his name from the bed. "Would you like to hold her?"
He wants to say no, to deny what Angela said, but he can't. Instead, he walks to the bedside and extends his arms to accept the little bundle… his baby girl. When he meets the baby's gaze, his own dark eyes look back at him.
When he saw Brennan's eyes opening in that sunlight between dawn and day, he realized that he was never going to stop loving her. Denial and escapism would never be enough to destroy the bond they had, the bond they had spent so many years forging only to avoid confronting.
"Bones." He turns to Brennan. "I know this was supposed to be just me for my DNA. But I can't bring myself to terms with the idea of not being a part of Rowena's life. I know I have no legal right to this child, but…" Momentarily losing his train of thought, he coos to the baby before looking back up at Brennan. "Love is about letting go of your pride. And I'm doing that right now. I want you to know that I'm going to love the two of you whether you like it or not. I want to be part of your lives."
Brennan sighs and smiles. "Booth…"
"You don't have to say anything," he says as he rocks the baby back and forth. "Just nod."
Brennan nods, Booth smiles, and Angela takes her turn holding the baby.