Created January 2014 - I don't own these characters or the words made famous by the TV show, Bones. Love them anyway. All the rest that follows is my feeble attempt to keep time in between broadcasts and Razztaztic, Threesquares, and Covalent Bond postings.
A/N: 1/25/2014 This is the Part Two to "Family Dinner"
"The Bones Song" was written by Robin Walling. "Dominick the Donkey (which if you haven't heard it, go Google it, it's adorable) was written by Lou Monte. And, well. You guys know Bob Dylan (I hope!)
206 Bones in the Body
206 That's all there is
206 Bones in the Body
And if you sing it right
They sound like this….
Booth leaned against the en suite bathroom as he took in the adorable scene before him.
Brennan leaned in forward in a modified child yoga pose as she bathed and sang to their sudsy baby girl what sounded like a Jimmy Buffet tune set to science-y lyrics.
With a starfish shaped sponge as her pointer, Brennan continued.
The skull is the cranium, right on top
Immovable joint and not a soft spot
Scapula's the shoulder blade, a real flat bone
Sternum's in the center and protects the heart alone
Christine howled with hiccuping belly laughs as her mommy's tickling stroke from her scapula around to right above her belly caused her to happily squirm. Brennan continued the song while Christine watched her mother's lips, attempting to mimic the sounds.
Clavicle's the collarbone, fractures all the time…
…Phalanges, you'll find, are in the hands and feet...
"Show me your phalanges, Christine!" Brennan encouraged as Christine extended both arms to her side and began to wiggle her fingers.
"Ta-danges!" Christine giggled.
"Very good, Baby Girl!" Brennan cheered, pulling back a strand of hair that had fallen from her messy ponytail. "But it's pronounced fuh-lan-geez. Ta-danges is acceptable at this stage however."
Excited by her mother's breathy approbation, Christine began to slap the water in the tub, disrupting the surface tension with her splashes. Although most of the water in the portable tub was spilling out into Mommy and Daddy's monster of a tub, a significant amount made its way onto Brennan.
"Oh Christine! You're just like your Dada in the tub!" Brennan laughed leaning back away from a happy Christine.
*CLICK*
Surprised, Brennan looked up to find her husband admiring the photo that he just took. Brennan looked down at the clingy white v-neck tee that she had put on to bathe her daughter. "Booth!" she cried. "My shirt is see-through! You have to delete that photo!" she sat back on her haunches – exasperated but amused - as Christine bopped at the site of her Dada.
Booth grinned as he pocketed his still capture in favor of approaching the live action of Brennan's swaying water-soaked breasts.
"No way! You can see more of Christine's boobies than her Mama's" he teased, pulling up a footstool to sit beside Brennan. "Besides, if you don't want to be objectified, don't go sporting a wet t-shirt in my presence." He took a deep breath as he peered down the slouching v of her top. "…bra-less." He husked through pursed lips.
"You knew I was coming up here to grope you, Bones. You should know better!" He slid his right hand around Brennan's waist as he leaned into her neck to press a sucking kiss to it.
"Hey!" he yelped as his ignored daughter flicked water onto him for attention. "Sorry, Baby Girl! Daddy misses Mommy! I've had to resort to taking semi-nudes just to not lose my mind!" he cooed in a baby-voice to a chuckling Christine. Brennan returned to bathing her.
In his regular voice, he continued to his wife. "Besides. You have tons of skivvy pictures of me." He argued, slipping both of his warm hands under her top. "My collection is far smaller than yours, in fact."
Brennan smiled at the welcome strokes to either sides of her torso. "I suppose we both have a healthy appreciation for the physical form…" she rationalized, considering their mutual admiration of each other's bodies, and some of their collectibles. "Although, I have noted that your collection of – in the vernacular – girlie magazines, has diminished since the earlier days of our partnership." She probed as she gently held Christine's head back to rinse out the shampoo. "From what I can determine, you've stopped collecting completely, in fact."
Brennan snorted, feeling Booth's circular motion against her sides halt at her words. He had not realized that Bones knew about the really old Playboy magazines mixed in with his comic books. "Well, uh. I uh… C'mon, can you call it a collection, really? It wasn't that big in the first place, Bones! Maybe four or five! Just a few collector's items…." He defended, re-initiating his caress toward her hips.
"I also noted that the most recent periodical in the collection had a few dogged-eared pages. The woman on said pages seem to bear a remarkable resemblance to me…" she hummed, handing her daughter the never-missing iguana. Brennan straightened, turning towards Booth.
He winced at her devilish grin. He loved and hated when she caught him.
"Aside from the obvious surgical enhancements, of course." She guided his hands from her hips back under her top, up to her bosom. Booth sighed happily as watched his thumbs brushed her pert, wet nipples. Booth busied his hands and mouth with her breasts for about a minute before he removed one hand from under her shirt to cup her face.
"Nothing's better than the real thing, Bones." He pecked at Brennan's lips while her hands traveled up his thighs.
He sighed staring into her eyes. "Tangled Up in Blue" he grinned, leaning into her. Lips collided in a heated, but too brief kiss. The sound of their lips smacking together caused Christine to look up momentarily before returning back to her favorite toy. She was used to her parents' bath time shenanigans.
"I find I'm quite aroused at the thought of you masturbating with Me-themed aids." She whispered conspiratorially. Booth swallowed roughly at the feel of her breath against his ears. He grabbed her rear and pulled her to him to kiss her. But as quickly as he began, he let her go. Much to both of their disappointments, he pushed her away, dare they get carried away with their child in the tub. Brennan understood his actions and stood up, gathering Christine in her arms.
Booth grinned as he imagined the impact of the additional dampness of Bones' top. Pulling a fluffy purple towel from the stand, he dried Christine's hair a bit before he wrapped the towel around the shoulders of his little girl. He pulled both Brennan and Christine into a bear hug.
"Dada. Hug us." Christine murmured as she swayed in between her parents. Booth kissed her matted wet locks before scooping her out of Brennan's arms. He paused for a minute to ogle his wife before bringing Christine into the bedroom.
With all of the additional house guests, the couple had transitioned Christine's bath time routine to the master bathroom to minimize traffic in the bathroom closer to her bedroom. Booth had thoroughly enjoyed this temporary change as it enabled him the opportunity to watch his wife get undressed and dressed while Booth prepared Christine for bed. Given their crazy schedules, this perk of living with Temperance Brennan was a rare and coveted occurrence.
Brennan grinned as she peeled the wet material from her body, knowing that Booth's eyes were on her. Distractedly, Booth put lotion, powder and pajamas on his little girl while Brennan completed her own routine. From the chair next to the bed, she questioned. "I've seen your photo albums, Booth. You've collected a number of photographs of me over the years…"
Christine chuckled at the 'uh-oh' face Daddy was making at her. Mommy wasn't done messing with Dada. "Yeah….?"
Brennan pulled on the geometric printed top that she had on earlier, standing up to replace her wet yoga pants with her slacks. Booth groaned, noticing his wife was not replacing her panties. "Have you ever been inspired to masturbate looking at them?" she queried. Booth's hesitation before responding confirmed his response. "I see." She said.
"Well, Bones! Most of the pictures that I have of us, you are in your jumpsuit, or in eight layers of clothing or…"
"You don't find my attire sexually alluring." She stated dispassionately as she came to sit beside Booth and their half-dressed child.
Worried, Booth looked at Brennan while he unsuccessfully attempted to guide Christine's arm through the pajama top. "Uh, not always. Sometimes I do." He offered optimistically, but was met with her thinking frown. "But that's a good thing Bones. I mean, you are always attractive, and I love it when you wear those jeans, and you know about my weird thing with your lab coats! ...But you dress…sensibly. Nothing wrong with that…less distraction for me." He laughed nervously. "Trust me, if you dressed like Angela or Cam, I would have developed carpal tunnel years ago. I wouldn't be able to certify for marksman!"
Brennan studied her husband's face, considering his words. Rethinking his last comment, Booth quietly mumbled another "uh oh" under his breath. He stood their adorable daughter in her sight line as an act of defense.
To no avail. As he expected.
"You find Angela sexually alluring. And Cam, but I knew that." She concluded. "Do you want to have sex with Angela?" she asked, gathering Christine into her arms.
"Noooooooooo!" he responded quickly. "I only ever want to have sex with you Bones. Ever. For the rest of my life ever! I'm just saying, that Angela dresses like…you know…" he paused, feeling a bit nauseous at the examining blue-eyed stares of his wife and his daughter.
Was the room spinning?
He took a deep breath. "Provocatively. She dresses provocatively."
Brennan and Christine blinked at Booth in unison.
"…and all that I'm saying is. That if you dressed…provocatively… I wouldn't be able to help myself. I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off of you Bones" he implored gently. "I barely keep my hands off you now."
"That is true." Brennan reasoned with a soft smile. "That expensive lingerie that you purchased for me didn't last the evening…"
Booth snickered as he recollected. "I turned into Wolverine that night. The way I pawed that stuff off you…"
"And the sheets." She reminded him. "We had to dispose of them given all of the ice cream stains…"
"Blueberry chocolate chip." He remembered. "We got any downstairs?" waggling his eyebrows.
They both laughed.
"You know, I was asked to do a spread for Playboy once." she shared, much to her husband's surprise.
"Really?" he asked, keeping his face neutral. He felt another trap coming.
"Yes." she said breathily, studying his reaction. "After you were kidnapped by the Gravedigger. With the release of my third book, the missed award ceremony and the coverage of the kidnapping and my involvement in your rescue, my publicist said that I was positioned a hot commodity with a hot body."
"Oh." Booth replied. "I know how you don't like being labeled a sexy scientist." he reasoned. "You turned it down, obviously."
Brennan's forehead knotted with worry whenever Booth didn't remember something as vividly as did she. "Yes, I did turn it down. But not because I'm a sexy scientist. You told me that we can't help being who we are, remember?"
Booth's lip curled at her frowning face. "Yes, Bones. I did tell you that." he leaned over to kiss her.
Brennan smiled, reassured by his recall. "I didn't do the spread because I didn't want to risk saturating the market with my image. I felt it would impact my ability to do undercover assignments with you." She pursed her lips. "Appearing in Playboy would have made me too recognizable" she reasoned.
"Probably not." Booth leaned his arms back on the bed for a quick stretch.
"Why not?" she questioned, annoyed by his doubt.
"Because." Booth beamed. "I would have gone broke buying every last one of those Playboys. Nobody else would have had the chance to see them!" he grinned.
"Awwwww! That's so sweet, Booth! Financially preposterous, but very sweet." Brennan chuckled as Booth leaned in to kiss her again. Christine let out a tiny grunt. She had calmed, nestling her weary head onto Brennan's shoulder. Booth kissed her cheek.
"She's very tired." Brennan observed.
"Her schedule's been disrupted." Booth agreed, thumbing his daughter's cheek while pulling the ponytail holder out of Brennan's hair. "Almost all of her favorite people are here…and Santa's coming!" He sang to Christine as he stroked Brennan's neck.
Brennan rolled her eyes, but whimpered at Booth's touch. "I think little girl has a crush on her Uncle Sweets. Did you see how elated she was when he performed "Dominick the Donkey" for her? She appeared to be seizing, she was laughing so hard..." Brennan snickered.
Booth's eyes darted to his teasing wife. "Nah-uh. Ain't happening. Only crush she can have until she's eighteen, is on me" he kidded as Christine popped her thumb in her mouth. Considering Brennan's comment, he asked "She does get a kick out of him, doesn't she?"
"Mmmmhmmm." Brennan eased Christine into Booth's arms as the pair stood to take her to her crib. "It seems to displease Jared terribly."
Booth laughed quietly as they padded down the hallway. "I know! It's pretty funny, right?" Booth sighed. "He's totally jealous! With everyone together, I realize how much I treat Sweets like he's a little brother."
"It's very comforting. Our family's become quite large." Brennan mused sitting down on the two person rocking chair that Angela had designed for them. She leaned her head on Booth's left shoulder and began a staring contest with Christine, whose head rested contently in the crook of Booth's right armpit.
Booth smoothed his hand over Brennan's back as he watched his girls face off in their Blue Battle Royale. "Yep. I love it."
The trio rocked quietly as they listened to the din downstairs. From what they could discern, Padme, Sweets and Jared were having a lively discussion about the British Premier league while Hank and Caroline discussed their respective travels through Europe. Sounds of the Carpenters poked through all the chatting.
In no time, Christine drifted off into a solid sleep. Brennan stood, peeling Christine's warm body from Booth's and placed her in the crib. She conducted her evening routine, fussing over Christine's blankets and stuffed animals long enough to warrant an interrupting "ahem" from her spouse.
Brennan turned back towards Booth. He rocked playfully in the chair, motioning for her to return back to his side. She frowned at his invitation. "We have guests downstairs, Booth! It would be rude of us to keep them waiting."
Booth reached out to draw her closer to him. Once she took his hand, he pulled her all the way back to the chair. "They're family, Bones. They can take care of themselves for a while."
"Caroline's not family." Brennan offered. "I understand that Sweets is our metaphorical little brother, but…"
"In the past ten years, Caroline's been more of a Mom to you and I than our own mothers, Bones. She's family." Booth asserted.
Brennan mulled his statement. "I am very fond of her and Christine simply adores her. You are right. Metaphorically, Caroline's family."
"I'm always right, Bones. I keep telling you that." Booth boasted, unsnapping the bra under Brennan's blouse.
Brennan busied herself unbuttoning Booth's shirt. "I will concede that there are several topics where your knowledge is exceptional. Sports, family, popular culture, sexual innuendo..."
Booth cut her off with a kiss as he pushed up her blouse. Brennan moaned softly at the feel of his probing fingers between her still-clothed legs. "My body." She gasped as she loudly unzipped her pants.
"Shhhhh…" Booth reminded as he pulled down Brennan's trousers. "We don't want to wake the baby."
Knowing that when she was drunk, Brennan had a tendency to be very uninhibited (read as: loud) when they had sex, Booth inquired hurriedly "Are you drunk, Bones? How much alcohol have you had?"
Distracted as she unzipped Booth's jeans, Brennan fussed. "I'm obviously not that inebriated Booth! I was able to bathe our daughter successfully. And put her to bed as I always do." She whispered back urgently, her hands full of his throbbing member. "Now hurry please. I suggest that we forego foreplay and simply engage coitus."
Booth nodded, gently pulling his wife to the floor. Briefly he stole a look at the door to confirm that it was indeed shut. Relaxing at the security check, he reassured himself that he and Bones could accomplish their quickie without waking their daughter or revealing themselves to their guests.
Booth nodded at his straddling wife, who mewled quietly at the intense, welcome feel of first entry.
The pair sighed together. Twenty-one hours apart was way to long.
This quickie was a good idea. Booth thought to himself. Just a quick release and they both could make it through the rest of the evening. He watched his normally vociferous partner devour her bottom lip in an effort to quiet her pleasure. He grinned proudly at her efforts. Even with Hank's Hurricane's, he was certain she could keep it down.
They would be just fine.
After all, Bones had successfully bathed Christine and put her to bed like she always did.
A routine that involved positioning Christine's blankets and stuffed animals strategically in the crib.
And turning on the baby monitor.
Which was on downstairs. In the dining room.
"Oh shit!" Booth choked. "The baby monitor!" he panicked as he unwillingly tried to extricate himself from their delicious tether.
"Don't worry about it Cher!" hollered Caroline from below.
"Mama Caroline will turn it off!"
A/N #2: Hopefully no spoilers here, but I added this chapter after watching last night's the Master in the Slop.
Let the record reflect three things: 1) I LOVED Dave Thomas on SCTV. He's very good sketch comedy. 2) Was some of the action in last night's ep way out of character and campy? ABSOLUTELY! However, what I watched last night feeds well into my Conspiracy Theory tale, so since I play on using a bit of it, I'll chill. 3) Do I think that Brennan would submit to publicly objectifying herself? Maybe, she's an Experiencer. I could totally see her submitting to "an experience", like burlesque dancing, taking drugs, sleeping with one guy, while "dating" another...you get the point. She could go either way. But what I strongly do believe is that our Seeley Booth is a Christ-loving, red-blooded American male who loves women, who on at least three occasions that I recall off the top of my head has demonstratively revealed his appreciation for a scantily-clad lady or two. I am a red-blooded American woman, and while I love a man in a well-tailored suit more than anything (which is still objectification BTW), I will not complain if a good looking dude takes off his shirt.
That's my two cents. Figured I'd rant after the gift of a story :)
