Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who let me know that you can still purchase Lite Brights! I know what I'll be doing this weekend....
Chapter 7: On Fairy Godmothers & Going Too Far.
"Whoa there, little one. I'm new to parenting, but I believe this signifies that it's nap time," Brennan said as she caught Angie's arm, just stopping her from falling head first into a tray full of 'ballet slipper' paint. If the way she kept nodding off was any indication, the excitement of the day had finally caught up to the little girl. They had started their shopping early so that they would still have time to come home and paint. Angela, being Angela, managed to turn painting into a party, complete with Motown music and dancing. Brennan took the mini-roller out of Angie's hand and placed it along side her own in the paint tray. She lifted the little girl gently in her arms and started for the door.
"I'm just going to put her in my bed," she told Angela, who was hard at work on a pretty impressive butterfly mural. "I'll be right back." Angela nodded and let out a soft "awww."
In her own bedroom, Brennan placed the little girl in the middle of the bed and softly kissed her forehead. She took Jasper, Brainy, and the stuffed puppy Booth had brought to the hospital and arranged them around the sleeping child, as though they were standing guard. It was silly, but it made her feel better about leaving this little girl, who never stopped holding onto her, alone in the room. Better to always be watched over, even if it was by a ragtag assortment of playthings.
She returned to Angie's room and picked up her paint roller. She had to admit that it would be much easier to finish up the last coat of paint without a six-year-old attached to her shirt. She was just beginning to worry about how Angie would handle the separation that school would bring when she caught a glimpse of Angela's mural.
"Ange! It's breathtaking. Wow. It looks almost three-dimensional." She looked at her best friend admiringly. "I really can't thank you enough for this. For everything. If you hadn't been with me today, I'm not sure what I would have done."
"From the looks of things, you would have done fine, Bren. You and Angie are a natural fit." This earned her a shy smile. "Besides, I've had a great time. The My Little Pony moment alone was worth it, and I've positively fallen in love with Angie. I plan to fully enjoy my new role of fairy foster godmother."
Brennan laughed. "I don't think there's any such thing as 'foster godmothers'...or fairies."
"Nope, Bren, you're wrong about this one. Trust me, it's one of those times when I know best."
"Hmph," Brennan rolled her eyes good-naturedly before turning serious. "So, Angela, would you be able to engage in what you commonly refer to as 'girl talk' right now, or would that distract you from your mural?"
"Temperance Brennan," Angela turned to her, waving her paint brush threateningly, "you better not be toying with me. You spill, I'll paint."
"I called Andrew last night," Brennan admitted sheepishly.
"Why?" Angela asked, trying to keep the disapproval out of her voice. "I thought you two had agreed not to see each other anymore."
"I thought so too!" Brennan exclaimed, relieved that her more social-savvy best friend had come to the same conclusion she had. "Apparently, Andrew thought things would be different if I didn't go to Indonesia. He wrote me a letter, so I felt like I had to call."
"Wait, Sweetie, he wrote you a letter? What is this, 1945? Can I read it?"
"No! I know you, you'll just laugh."
"Fine," Angela had to admit her friend was right. Besides, if she didn't push it now, she might still stand a chance of getting her hands on that letter later. "So, what did you say when you called? Are you guys going to start seeing each other again?" Angela wasn't sure she wanted to hear the answer. She loved Brennan dearly, but for a genius, she had never met anyone more dense about her own heart. If Angela was right, and she almost always was, her friend was thisclose to realizing that she should grab Seeley Booth and never let go. The whole third party routine was getting old.
"Of course not, Angela. My desire to end our relationship was independent of my decision to leave the country. I let him know that I looked forward to seeing him in a professional capacity."
"Oh." Thank God. Angela fought the urge to do a happy dance in the middle of the bedroom. Now that she was reassured of a positive outcome, she could afford to push things a bit. "Why did you end things again, Bren? I thought you were enjoying your coffees together."
"Yes, our dates were fine."
"And I thought you thought he was handsome."
"He is well-structured and pleasing to the eye."
Angela chose not to point out that the statement sounded like one you might make when referring to a bookshelf or an armoire. "Indeed. So what gives? Are you forsaking men to focus on Angie?"
"No," Brennan said uncertainly. She hadn't thought about it that way, though that was definitely a good reason. "No, I just...he's just...." Not Booth.
Not Booth, Angela thought. Come on, Bren just say it out loud. You know you want to. Put us all out of our misery. "He's just....," Angela prompted.
She almost said it. She almost let everything she'd been holding in for years just come spilling out. But (and isn't there always a 'but'?) at the last second, she swerved. "He's just so in to bluegrass."
Angela was thrown. "Huh? Bluegrass? You mean bluegrass music?"
"Yes," Brennan nodded. "He loves it...and not just listening to it, he also plays it. His home is full of really old acoustic guitars, and he has these special warm-feeling picks for them, and-"
"Sweetie, you're losing me. You don't want to continue your relationship because of guitars and bluegrass?"
"Exactly," Brennan confirmed. "I hate bluegrass. I didn't know it before I started seeing him, because I wasn't really around it very much, but I find that particular kind of music exceedingly disagreeable. And he loves it. I mean really loves it."
Angela wanted to laugh at the thought of her friend, whose own cd collection included a comprehensive sampling of atonal chanting, breaking up with someone over his taste in music. Still, the end result was desirable, so Angela kept quiet. "Fair enough, Bren. Fair enough."
OoO
By the time Angie woke from her nap, the bedroom was completely painted, shelves were installed, and toys, books and clothes were put away. The bed was draped in a new, six-year-old appropriate quilt, and a nightlight was installed. Angela insisted on covering the little girl's eyes as she led her into the room.
"Ta-da!" She withdrew her hands from Angie's face with a flourish. "What do you think?"
Brennan watched with a smile as the little girl's jaw dropped. She turned slowly around the room, taking in the new bed, the My Little Pony village (complete with castle), the new soccer ball and, finally, the mural.
With a gasp, Angie walked, hands outstretched, toward the painting.
"You can't touch it yet," Brennan reluctantly interrupted. "It's not dry, and if you touch it, you'll smear it. It should be dry tomorrow." Angie nodded and smiled adoringly at Angela.
Fairy foster godmother, indeed.
OoO
Brennan and Angie were saying goodbye to Angela when there was a knock on the front door. Brennan opened the door to reveal two Booths and a pizza.
"We brought pizza!" Parker announced helpfully.
Booth smiled, "We thought you ladies might be hungry after all your hard work."
Brennan tried not to think about the massive amounts of dopamine her brain started secreting at the mere sight of her partner. "How thoughtful of you! Come on in." She took the pizza and placed it on her counter. "We'll eat in just a second, but first you have to come see the mural Angela painted for Angie. It's unbelievable."
The group was walking back toward the bedroom, Angie and Angela leading the way, when without warning, Booth had his companions pressed against the wall and his gun out and pointed towards Brennan's bedroom.
For a moment everything was eerily silent. It was an equally horrified and stunned Brennan who spoke first. "Booth! What on earth are you doing?"
"I saw someone out of the corner of my.... Wait, is that a mirror?" Booth asked, gesturing toward the full length mirror standing in Brennan's bedroom, angled toward the door.
"Yes, Booth, it is. Are you going to shoot it, like you did that clown?" Brennan asked with a raised eyebrow.
Booth closed his eyes and carefully re-holstered his gun. Great. I just pointed my weapon at a mirror. In front of two children...one of whom is mine, and the other of whom already has significant trauma issues. Classic, Seeley. He could tell by the expressions on the two women's faces that he would never live this one down. His first priority, however, was the children. He began to gather his thoughts and formulate an explanation.
He needn't have worried.
Before the elder Booth could open his mouth, Parker laughed and patted Angie on the arm. "Don't worry Shadow," he told the little girl in a knowing tone that clearly said 'parents.' "My dad is an FBI Agent, so he's always doing things like checking the car before he lets you get in and yelling at you if you forget to lock the door. He just wants to make sure there are no bad people. Also, he likes to show-off in front of Dr. Bones."
At this, Angela doubled over in laughter, Brennan blushed, and the two children continued on to look at the mural, as though nothing had happened. Booth wondered if it was possible to will the floor to open up and swallow you whole.
Trying to save face, he turned to the women with a joking smile. "When did ya get the mirror, Bones? Were you worried that you'd leave the house wearing shoes that didn't match your shirt?"
Angela was still laughing so hard that tears were rolling down her face, and Brennan had recovered from her momentary embarrassment enough to shoot him a sassy grin. "Oh you know, Booth, it never hurts to have a strategically placed mirror in the bedroom."
God kill me now. His thoughts must have been written all over his face, because Brennan rolled her eyes and gave him a pointed look.
"You never know when a creepy serial killer might be lurking in the bedroom."
"Oh, that's a joke. Funny, Bones. Ha, ha."
"Alright you two, I'm out of here. Enjoy your pizza...and Booth? Try not to shoot anything, okay?" Angela smiled.
"Et tu, Ange? That's funny. You're both hilarious." He looked from one woman to another. "You don't want to stay and eat with us?"
"I'll have to take a raincheck. Hodgins and I have big plans for the night. We're trying out this new-"
"Stop right there, Angela," Booth held out his hand to silence her. "I don't want to hear another word about whatever it is you and Hodgins are trying out tonight. There are children right down the hall."
"You're right Booth, I'm sure that whatever Hodgins and I are going to do would be so much scarier for the kids than, I don't know, you threatening to shoot the furniture." Angela shook her head and smiled affectionately. "Bye kids!," she called.
"Bye, Angela!," Parker ran out into the hall, a waving Angie close behind. "Your painting is so cool! Could you do one for me? But maybe not with butterflies?"
"Sure thing little man. I'll come up with an idea and get in touch with your dad. Enjoy your dinner!"
OoO
After dinner, Booth and Brennan stood together washing dishes while Parker and Angie went back to her room to try out the soccer ball. Brennan was so relieved that Angie seemed capable of interacting with other children that she didn't experience the sense of awkwardness that had been synonymous with her partner's presence ever since she had turned him down and he had decided to move on.
"Thanks for bringing dinner," she nudged him affectionately.
"My pleasure, Bones. It's pretty great what you're doing for Angie. You're really wonderful with her." His partner beamed up at him. She looked so young and beautiful and...unguarded. She looked at him like someone who loved him, and more than anything in the world, he wanted it to be true. He wanted her to never stop looking at him like that. He wanted to run his soapy fingers across her face and kiss her right there in front of the sink. He wanted it so badly it was painful, and he really didn't know how he had managed the last five years.
In the end, it was the memory of how it felt to have her push him away that stopped him. He would gamble once, but not twice. This time, it was him that flinched. He gave her a half smile and nudged her back. Desperate to break the sudden silence between them, the one that threatened to suffocate him with words unsaid, he brought up a topic that had been niggling at the back of his mind since the other night. "Bones," he said cautiously, "this thing with Angie...you know it's only temporary, right?"
His stomach clenched as he watched her smile fade and her guard return in an instant. "Of course I know it's temporary, Booth. That's the very definition of the term 'foster parent'."
"I know you know that intellectually, but it's hard not to get attached. I mean, you've painted a room for her and everything."
Right, a painted bedroom. Suddenly, a montage of frightening, impersonal bedrooms flashed before her eyes. All of the places she'd been forced to stay. All of the rooms that had only served to remind her that she was unwanted, unloveable, without a place. "What are you trying to say, Booth?" She started slamming dishes as she put them away. "I painted a room. So what? It took two hours! Angie doesn't have a permanent home or parents that want her, so she should be constantly reminded of those facts, is that what you're saying? God forbid, she be allowed to feel comfortable, to feel like she has a place to belong. God forbid, she be allowed to forget, even for a little while, that she has been abandoned. That she has been completely and devastatingly failed by the only people in the world who are obligated to love her. She should always remember that she isn't like the other kids, that she isn't like Parker. No. She is alone. Is that the point you're trying to make?"
Booth could see that Brennan's hands were shaking with fury, and he was pretty angry himself, though not with her. Not for the first time, he found himself wishing he'd hit Max Brennan a little harder when he had the opportunity. "Bones, that's not what I mean at all, and you know it," he spoke gently. "I just...I don't want you to get hurt. Soon she'll have to leave, and I just want you to be careful."
Brennan started laughing cruelly as she turned to face him. "When are you going to learn Booth? I don't need to be protected, especially not by you. You're the one that's incapable from separating your own selfish emotions from any given situation. You're the one that's too quick to form foolish attachments. I believe Sweets would call this 'projecting.' The sting of my rejection has obviously impacted your opinion. If anything, this situation should simply serve to reinforce my point that night,which was that I. AM. NOT. LIKE. YOU. I'm not like you, and I would appreciate it if you would keep any further concerns to yourself." She didn't know what she was doing. She didn't know what possessed her to make this about the two of them. She wanted to take back the words as soon as she said them, but she didn't get the chance.
Now he was furious with her. Absolutely, fucking furious. She had gone way, way too far, and he was in no state of mind to make his usual allowances. "You know what Bones?," he whispered viciously, "You're right. You are nothing like me. I apologize. Watching you with that little girl, I just forgot for a minute that you can sometimes pretend that you're one of us- that you're not a heartless bitch. Unfortunately, you can never keep it up for very long. Don't worry, it won't happen again. Parker," he called, trying to keep the fury out of his voice. "Come on, it's time to go!"
Parker and Angie came running out of the back room. "Dad!," Parker exclaimed. "Shadow and I were playing with her soccer ball, and she's actually really good. Not good for a little kid, or for a girl, but just plain good!"
"That's great, Parks, but we've got to go." Booth was desperate to get out of that apartment.
"Wait, Dad," Parker refused to be rushed. "You said we could go to the park tomorrow. Dr. Bones?," he turned to Brennan with big pleading eyes, "Can you bring Shadow to the park tomorrow too? Please? At noon? That's when Dad said we were going. Can you guys come so that Shadow and I can play soccer? Please?"
Booth broke in. "I don't think so, Parks. Dr. Brennan-"
"We would love too," Brennan interrupted frantically. "Right, Angie? We'll bring a picnic, since you guys brought us dinner tonight."
"Yesss!" Parker exclaimed.
Brennan grabbed Booth's arm. She couldn't believe what she said to him earlier. He had never spoken to her like that, but then, she had never been deliberately cruel to him before either. He had spoken out of concern, and even though she hadn't appreciated his implications, she shouldn't have lashed out at him like that. When had she become this person who was willing to exploit her best friend's weaknesses? She might as well have thrown his past as a sniper in his face. He had every right to be angry with her, but she couldn't let him stay angry. Not when they were still so tenuous. Not when they could be so easily broken.
"Booth," she squeezed his arm, looking him straight in the eye, "we would love to meet you tomorrow." I'm sorry, please forgive me, please don't stop being my friend, please don't end our partnership, please.....
"Fine," Booth said as he walked out the door. He wouldn't look at her, and she had no way of knowing if he had accepted her silent apology.
TBC
A/N: Ummm...please don't hate me? They have issues that haven't magically disappeared, and they need to deal with them? The last chapter had My Little Pony? Please?
