On Monday at work, Brennan and Angela were sitting in the artist's office. Angela was making the both of them coffee and chatting about their weekends.
"Okay, sweetie, now that you've heard all the dirt on my weekend with Chris the kinky insurance adjuster, you need to tell me what happened with Studly," she said, wagging her eyebrows.
"Nothing happened, Ange," Brennan said, sure of herself.
"Something did! You two were out of that restaurant Friday night faster than Forrest Gump can run."
"Who?" Brennan asked, not understanding the movie reference.
"Nevermind. Sweetie, what did he say to you that made you to leave so quickly?"
Brennan shrugged. "He asked me to marry him," she said, as if it were no big deal.
Angela's jaw dropped. "He did what? Sweetie! What did you say?"
"I told him no, of course. I don't believe in marriage. But we have decided to take a slow start to our relationship."
"Oh my god! Bren! This is huge! Why didn't you say anything to me before? Or answer your phone when I called you?"
Again, Brennan shrugged. "I just told you. It's not that big of a deal."
Angela waved her off as Booth walked in looking for Brennan.
"Hey, Bren, come on, we gotta go. There's a body waiting for you just outside of town. Let's go," he said.
Brennan happily left Angela's office to get her coat. As she passed by Booth, she gave him a peck on the cheek and he blushed.
Angela stood facing him, arms crossed, foot tapping.
"What?" he asked.
"Hurt her and you deal with me. And my dad," she snapped. Booth paled at the thought. He knew how terrified Hodgins was of her father and the former sniper thought he should at least be a little afraid.
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At the end of the day, Brennan and Booth were in her office, she typing away at her computer and he scribbling down notes into a file. Flipping the folder shut he said, "Bren, you should go home. You look exhausted."
She looked insulted at the comment and he attempted to correct himself.
"Sorry, Bren. I'm tired so I'm sure you are, too. Let me take you home. Come on, Bren," Booth said, gesturing toward the door.
"Wait," Brennan stopped him, "you haven't called me Bones all day."
Booth looked at her and thought for a moment. "No," he sighed, "I haven't."
"Why?"
"I thought you hated it. You used to, anyway."
Brennan shrugged. "Not anymore. I like it now. It's quite…charming," she told him with a crooked grin on her face.
"Oh, well, I'll start calling you Bones again. Come on, let's go."
She looked him over and he seemed to become nervous.
"Come on, Bren! Hustle!" Booth shouted.
"You just called me Bren again," she observed.
"So?" Booth shrugged.
"I would like to know why."
He sighed and she seemed concerned. Booth began to fiddle with is tie, one of his few nervous habits she evoked.
"You, uh…remember that time…I had, you know…that tumor?" he whispered, tugging at his ever-tightening shirt collar.
Brennan was confused. "Of course, everyone remembers that," she reasoned.
"Well…in that little coma dream I had, I didn't call you Bones. I called you Bren."
"Oh, well I don't mind that you call me that. It was just odd to me."
Booth was surprisingly relieved. "Oh, that's it?"
Brennan nodded. "I like either nickname. I respond to either so it doesn't matter what you call me but since you've called me Bones for the past five or six years, I was kind of confused," she told him.
Booth smiled at her. "Let's go home, Bren. I'm tired." She smiled back, realizing the significance behind her new name. It was one of love and affection, something she had quietly desired her whole life.
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A/N: I'm doing one more chapter in this to knock it out and then I'm focusing on my other stories. I may do a re-write of Centripetal Force plus an alternate ending to The Woman on the Bench plus continuing Long Nights. So, there were a few shameless plugs for my other stories. I don't care. I'm not afraid to tell you guys to read them. If you don't, I'm not going to know who does and doesn't so whatever. Just an update on my future updates :) Hope you all liked this! Let me know what you think!
