NEW SNAPSHOT!
Snapshot: March 30, 2012
Booth watched in contentment as Brennan rocked back and forth in the rocking chair, Cristina nestled in her arms, wrapped in her favorite purple blanket. All Booth could see of their baby girl was her tiny little nose and a tuft of soft auburn hair.
He smiled as he heard Cristina coo out a contented sigh. Brennan smiled at this and softly kissed the baby's nose. Seeley could practically see the baby's smile. She loved kisses on the nose, for some reason, while her mother hated them. But, being the intelligent person she was, Brennan knew that the only way to calm Cristina down enough for bedtime was to kiss her nose. Booth just caught the movement of Cristina's long eyelashes fluttering as she closed her eyes, before Brennan popped the pacifier into her mouth (another thing that soothed Cristina and annoyed Brennan) and placed her gently in the bassinet.
Brennan just stood there for a moment, gazing at their little girl, as if wondering how the hell she got there, when Booth stepped up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing her neck. "Hey." he whispered in her ear, soft enough that she almost didn't hear it.
Brennan's smile widened. She turned around in his embrace and smiled up at him, allowing him to see the tears shining proudly in her eyes; She wasn't afraid to cry anymore. Especially not when she was as happy as she was at that moment.
"Hey." she mouthed, unable to make a sound. She leaned up and kissed him, snaking her arms around his neck. When she pulled back, she rested her head on his chest. Booth smiled and wrapped his arms further around her waist, until almost her entire back was covered by his arms. He took a deep breath. Ever since Cristina was born, he'd been reveling in the fact that he got to hug her fully now that there was no giant belly in the way. He was much happier that now he had a daughter to hold and a fiance to wrap his arms around, comfortably.
Booth rested his head on Brennan's for a moment before he realized that she was snoring. He chuckled and looked down, noticing that she had gone limp and was now snoozing with her head on his chest, while standing up. Booth shook his head and backed away slightly, supporting her with his arms and picking her up, allowing her head to rest on his shoulder as he walked her into their bedroom and lay her down, before climbing in with her. He spooned her into him and smiled when she grabbed his arm, snuggling it like a pillow.
Burying his face in her hair, he let the sweet scent lull him into a fitful sleep.
()()()()()()()()
Booth awoke to the sound of Cristina's cries. Groaning, he disentangled himself from Brennan and stood up, turning to make sure Brennan was still sleeping.
Thankfully, she was a much heavier sleeper than he was and was only partly disturbed by the sounds her daughter was making. Her face scrunched up but she stay sleeping.
Booth smiled lovingly at her before making his way into the nursery next door.
Cristina's cries grew louder when she realized that somebody else was in the room. Booth could just see her tiny fists waving around in the air, trying to get his attention. He smiled and went over to the bassinet, picking her up and cradling in his big arms.
"Hey, Baby Girl." he cooed, rocking her in a soothing way and smiling as her cries grew fainter and she began to coo softly. Booth smiled and traced a finger down her cheek, wiping away a tear as he did so. Cristina grabbed his finger and gently lead it to her mouth, sucking on it furiously. Booth watched in amazement for a few moments before removing his finger from her mouth with a little POP and chuckling. "You're more like me than I thought."
Cristina, who began to whimper as soon as her father's finger was pulled out of her mouth, began to grab for it. Booth pulled it away and settled her over his shoulder, walking over to the mini fridge that Brennan insisted they get to keep the baby's milk in just in case Brennan wasn't around to feed her and Booth or the nanny, whom they had yet to hire since she wasn't due back to work for another month, didn't want to make the trip downstairs to the kitchen.
While simultaneously soothing the small infant on his shoulders, Booth walked over to the fridge, pulled out a bottle filled with Brennan's breast milk, and popped it into a bottle warmer on a shelf above, setting the timer for sixty seconds like Brennan instructed him to always do.
While he waited for the bottle to finish, Booth rocked Cristina in his arms, getting lost in those big blue eyes of hers. They were no longer as clear as diamonds, but instead sparkly like sapphires and Booth knew that she was going to be a stunner with those eyes, even if she does inherit her mother's social awkwardness.
The timer on the bottle warmer rung and Booth pulled the bottle out, testing the bottle on his wrist after he placed Cristina in her bassinet for a second to check.
Making sure that it was warm enough, but not too hot for the baby, he picked her up again, cradling her in one big arm as he made his way over to the big, comfy rocking chair in the corner and sat down.
Cristina whimpered the entire time, even threatening to cry for the two seconds she was out of her father's arms, but she relaxed as soon as the bottle was placed near her lips. She immediately latched on and began to suck hungrily, her tiny fists coming up slightly to rest on the bottle as she fed.
Booth smiled down at her, remembering Parker at this age. His hair was longer than Cristina's, even at barely a month old and it was so blonde it was almost white, but he still had those same little hands that attempted to hold the bottle, and that little crinkle in the nose when they concentrated. And though Parker's eyes were much darker than Cristina's were as a baby, they still held that infinite look of adoration and love for their parents, almost worshipful.
And that's how his baby girl was looking at him now. Like he was God giving her a gift. And, as her eyes started to drift, that's how her father looked back at her.
REVIEWS! And please, no talk about how a baby at that age can't do certain things. I'm not a mother, I'm a writer. I write what I imagine, not what's always factual.
