Are you sleeping with my daughter
BRENNAN
Two minutes past the appointed time she entered the restaurant and eyed the ambiance with a certain kind of nervousness. So that was it. The 1789 – Washington D.C.'s finest restaurant. The place where she would inform her family about the upcoming changes in her life.
"Dr. Brennan,...we are very honored to have you as our guest!" A man in full formal attire, tuxedo and bow tie came towards her. Probably the restaurant's manager.
Being a renowned successful bestselling author and a world famous anthropologist the management of the restaurant of course had been very pleased to accept her reservation only this morning, even though a reservation for a table at the 1789 usually was required to placed at least several weeks in advance. However, her publisher knew the owner of the restaurant. Therefore she suspected it had been most favorable for her to mention her publisher's name when she had placed her last minute reservation.
"Yes. You can be." She replied, albeit distracted, scanning the room. For some inexplicable reason she felt somehow relieved that the restaurant did not appear to be very crowded that evening. This was a highly irrational feeling, of course, given that she usually enjoyed having lunch together with Booth at the always very much crowded Royal Diner. Today, however, she just had felt that she was in need of something different, a more upscale location. Because this meeting was more than just a little family get-together. This was the place where she was going to inform her family that she was in love with Booth.
"May I take your coat?" The manager interrupted her thoughts. "Mr. Keenan has already arrived a few minutes ago." He informed her.
"Yes... Thank you." She took off her coat. No. She had to correct herself. She would not inform her family that she was merely 'in love' with Booth. That was not correct. She loved Booth. There was a significant difference between 'being in love' with someone and 'loving' someone, she understood that now.
It had never appeared to her before falling in love with Booth that there were different forms of love existing, different appearances, even different intensities. But then – up to only a couple of months ago she had not even believed that she would have been capable of ever being even 'in love' with someone, and that she would be able to trust to ever feel something. Something beyond the biological urge to have sexual intercourse with a man, and not in particular with the same man over a longer period of time, in order to satisfy her need for sexual satisfaction. No, sleeping with Booth had never been just about that. Right from the beginning, right from the very first time when they had slept with each other during that night after Vincent's death, to her sleeping with Booth had felt completely different from any sexual intercourse that she had ever experienced before. She presumed that it had felt different because she had felt – yes – love when sleeping with Booth, Having felt entirely satisfied in the physical aspect when sleeping with a man had been a condition which she had reached a couple of times also with other men she had slept with before Booth. However, having been intimate with Booth, 'making love' as he liked to call it rather than referring to it as an act of sexual intercourse, she had felt satisfied even on an additional emotional level. And she still did. The feeling had not worn off. On the contrary, the more time they spend together, the better they got to know each other, the stronger she felt that she actually wanted to spend the rest of her life together with him. Which of course, given the statistical data collected with regard to the average duration of relationships of couples in the United States of America, was an illusory and again rather irrational unsubstantiated thought. Having a child together would of course raise the statistical probability for her and Booth to stay together as a couple for a longer period of time. And, being together with Booth, not only as a couple like over the last past weeks, but actually ever since she had started to work together with him several years ago, had taught her that there was always a chance for even statistically improbable things still to happen. Sometimes all it took was for someone to strongly believe in them to happen. She had learned that from Booth, too.
"...May I guide you to your table now?" The manager addressed her again, raising half an eyebrow.
"Oh..." She suspected he had asked the same question before. "Y-Yes, of course." She replied. She could not help it that her thoughts constantly went back to revolve around Booth during this period of her life. Perhaps that happened also due to the pregnancy hormones in her system, or to be more scientifically precise due to the altered concentrations of the hormones in her blood during pregnancy. On more than one account lately she had acted quite irrationally. Of course, it was to be expected that being pregnant she would experience irrational longings or even cravings. But there had been instances where she had succumbed to purely irrational feelings, or even thoughts, too.
Even choosing this place had been an entirely irrational decision. She could have told her father on the phone that she was pregnant, or she could have invited him to simply meet her at the Royal Diner. Instead she had asked him and Russ to meet her at Washington's finest restaurant, had put in some effort to organize the table at such a short notice. It all had not been based on a rational decision but clearly on having given in to a momentarily feeling. It was yet another prove that the altered levels of hormones stipulated not only mere physical changes in her body, in fact they now had started to have an influence her emotional life, too. Once she had had set up today's meeting with her father and brother she suddenly had experienced a moment of high emotional instability, almost like a panic attack. Having suffered a sudden complete lack of confidence that she would be comfortable to have this meeting with her father and brother all on her own this evening she had called Booth and asked him to come, too. And she actually had felt much better ever since she knew Booth would be there, even though she had to admit that she also felt not a small part of guilt that he probably would have to cut short his afternoon with Parker and Hank in order to make it to the restaurant in time.
"I hope the table will be to your liking..." After having passed through the greater part of the dining area the manager finally stopped at a table for four. The restaurant had just opened for that evening at that time. Apart from her father she had only spotted two other guests sitting at a table in a corner, conveniently distanced from the table which the management of the 1789 had allocated to her upon her reservation.
"Hi Honey!" Her father got up when the manager pulled up her chair. Max bent over the table and kissed her on the cheek.
"Hi Dad!" She sat down opposite of him. "Where's Russ...?" She asked surprised. He hadn't called her again to inform her that he wouldn't come. This was so typical of Russ, breaking his promise... She stopped herself from feeling disappointed about it. Booth at least had told her in advance that he would be late. That was the difference – Booth always did what he'd said. In Booth she could trust unconditionally.
"Russ will come later. Hayley has had trouble breathing again..." Her father said. He took a sip from the glass of white wine in front of him. "...It's not serious though, don't worry!" Max quickly added seeing her concerned expression.
"I thought Hayley's condition had improved after undergoing that experimental therapy with pure oxygen..." She said. She had to admit that the last time she had actually seen Russ' girls had been even before she had left for Maluku. But of course she had been rather busy with her own life lately.
"Well, yeah. It has been a lot better ever since." Her father replied. "Amy can't make it though. So there will only be the three of us." He said, pointing at the forth chair on her side of the table.
"No, Dad. There's..., I..." She stopped. She had not told her father or Russ that she had invited Booth to come, too. She could not have told them without being forced to provide an explanation why Booth would come to attend to a family meeting of the Keenan/Brennan family. Of course, it would be best to tell her father about the baby and about Booth before Booth would be here. But how could she talk about it, now, when Russ, and her father too, must be concerned about Hayley's health. She just couldn't do it.
Max took her hand. "Let's be happy that we're all well, healthy..." He took another sip from his wine.
"Yes." She replied. She had bought a new dress for tonight. It had been irrational, too, to buy a new dress now. Soon she would have to buy wider clothes, maternity clothes.
Her father smiled. "You look very beautiful tonight, do you know that. You're shining from the inside..."
"I don't understand what that means." She replied. Confused. It was not possible for any human being to glow from the inside on their own. Bioluminescence so far had only been documented for insects, fishes, microorganisms and some fungi. And she had not come into close contact with any of those lately.
"You know, like a flower... You're in full bloom. I can see that you're happy. And content. And I want that for you, Tempe..."
"I am very happy, yes." She acknowledged. She smiled. "I am with a man..." A noise interrupted her.
"Have you decided about the entrée yet?" A tall slender man asked. She had not noticed how he had approached the table.
"We rather wait until Russ is here, won't we, Tempe?" Max asked her.
"...Yes, until everybody is here." She endorsed. She looked at her watch. Hopefully Booth would be here soon. "You can bring me a bottle of water. Still, please." She added, slightly disappointed that given that this was Washington D.C.'s finest restaurant so far she had been left full five minutes without anything to drink.
"Still water!" Her father blurted out after the waiter had left. "You don't order still water at a place like this! Look at their wine list! It's..." He handed her the wine list. "Look! The have a 2007 Corton-Charlemagne Grand Cru! You absolutely have to try it!" Max told her excited.
"No, Dad. I can't." She protested.
"...Here! Take my glass. I'll order a new one..." He handed her the glass, too. "The price for one glass.., it is outrageous... But this is good! Try it!" He emphasized again.
"Dad. I can't. I can't have any alcohol." She said more firmly.
"Come on. We'll take a taxi afterwards, you don't have to worry about driving." He still held the glass for her to take it.
"Dad!" She stopped him, moving the glass back over to his side of the table again. "I can't have any alcohol for the next several month. I'm thirteen weeks pregnant."
For a moment there was silence. "Tempe..." A broad smile then appeared on her father's face. He took her hand again, squeezed it. "You're happy..." Max rather stated than asked her.
"Yes." She said. Relieved. Shyly smiling. "I am very happy." The waiter came with her bottle of water. They watched him pour a glass of water for her.
"My first grandchild!" Max declared happily when they were alone again.
"Dad!" She felt the need to protest. "Russ has two girls, too! Technically, that makes them your grandchildren, too."
"Yes, but it's not the same..." He said. "I hardly ever see Russ' girls."
She was confused. She did not understand it. Was there a significance to her father whether a child was his biological offspring or not? Under different circumstances she might have opted, too, to adopt a child rather than to conceive one together with a man. "You will be closer to the child that is currently growing inside of me because it will be your first biological grandchild?" She finally asked.
"No, Tempe, that's not what I meant." He mildly protested. "I don't care whether my grandchild is your biological child, or adopted or anything else. As long as the child is healthy and happy..." Affectionately he squeezed her hand again. "And loved." He added. "Like you were – are." He corrected himself.
"Okay." She acknowledged, feeling relieved. She must have misinterpreted what her father had said.
"Tempe, I wanna be a good grandfather. I wanna be there for your child."
Her father's plea irritated her. Did he think she really wasn't angry with him anymore? "Like you were there for me...?" She asked.
How could her father believe she would ever, ever forget the feeling of that first Christmas Eve all alone on her own, after her parents had just disappeared? No, she wouldn't. She couldn't. Not ever. She would never do something like this to her own child. And neither would Booth!
"Honey," her father placated. "You know that I'm trying to make up to you for that... I'm really really trying."
A noise interrupted them. Somewhere at another table a plate had been dropped and had shattered. She turned around, tried to locate which table the noise had come from.
"Hey," her father said, touching her arm to get back her attention, "All I need – is for you to give me a chance – with my grandchild..."
"Hi Max!" She heard Booth say. She turned around, towards him, suprised. He took the chair next to her. Neither her nor her father had noticed him slipping in. His hand reached for the small of her back. She wondered whether her father would notice that small act of intimacy.
"Booth..." Her father said, sounding entirely surprised.
"I'm not very late, now, am I?" Booth addressed her. "Have you already ordered? God, I only hope they have beer in this kind of place."
"Dad says, the white wine is very good." She replied.
Max looked from her to Booth and then to her again. "You invited Booth...?"
"Did you tell him...?" Booth asked her.
She suspected he meant whether she had told her father about her pregnancy. "Yes." She said.
Max looked from her to Booth again his mouth half open. "You... and Booth..." He concluded. Then he turned to Booth. "...You slept with my daughter?"
"You said you told him..." Booth said to her. He seemed to be embarrassed.
"I told Dad that I'm pregnant." She informed Booth. "He appeared to be happy about it."
"You – knocked up – my daughter!" Max grinned.
"Dad!" She protested.
"I knew something was going on between you two at the bowling alley! Oh, you two were good. But still I knew. You were different... You and Tempe," he chuckled, "you already slept with each other back then!"
"Well, obviously we must have had sexual intercourse." She emphasized. "The child was conceived one hundred percent naturally."
"Bones, your father doesn't need to know exactly about all the particular details..." Booth said.
The waiter returned once more. Booth asked for a beer. The waiter accepted Booth' order with half a disapproving smile. She did not like that.
"So..." Her father drew back her attention. "Are you two staying together now? I mean, not just for the baby..."
"Yes." They both said almost simultaneously. "I love Booth." She added. "And Booth loves me..." She beamed at Booth.
"Yes." Booth smiled back at her, his hand gently petted over her back.
"Are you going to make an honest woman out of my daughter?" Max demanded addressing Booth.
"I'm always honest!" She protested. Why would Booth be required to make her more honest? She was always telling the truth.
"He means whether I am going to marry you..." Booth said to her. "Bones does not believe in marriage." He explained to her father. "It's up to Bones..."
"Who's going to get married...?" Russ asked having just arrived at their table. "Hi Tempe! Dad... Agent Booth..." He added somewhat surprised.
"Booth and I are not going to get married!" She emphasized. "Marriage is an antiquated superstitious ritual. There is no proof of any evolutionary advantage of getting married before having a child in the modern Western society. I do not see any relevance for me and Booth to get married in order to accommodate this child."
"You're going to have a baby, ...together with Agent Booth?" Russ asked while he sat down next to her father.
"Yes. I'm thirteen weeks pregnant." She now explained to her brother, too.
"Wow, Tempe. I'm happy... For both of you!" Russ got up again, came around the table, embraced her. "You'll see, kids are wonderful!" He said to her while still hugging her. He then shook hands with Booth. "Welcome to this – " Russ appeared to be searching for the right word, " – extraordinary – family!" Russ smiled, he went back to his chair. "Although – I'm not exactly sure how I feel about having an FBI agent join our family..." Russ acknowledged when he had sat down again. "Do you, Dad?
"Well yeah, I'm not exactly sure how I feel ...joining a family of criminals." Booth replied.
"I'm not a criminal." She interposed.
"I believe he means Dad and me, Tempe." Russ said.
"...I haven't been convicted for any crime since 1976." Max said cheerfully.
"Great." Booth said. "Not having been convicted doesn't mean you haven't committed any..."
"That is true." She added.
"Come on, cut me some slack! ...All I ever wanted was for Tempe and Russ to be happy ...and safe!" Max said, emptying the last bit of the white wine in his glass.
Booth took a sip from the beer the waiter had brought in the meantime. He scrunched up his face. He did not appear to enjoy the beer they had brought him.
"I can take care of myself on my own." She informed her father. She got up. She had felt the need to go to the bathroom for quite some time. It was probably best to go before the main course.
Booth almost started up, too. "Is everything okay?" He asked concerned. He instinctively took her hand.
"Yes." She reassured him. "I just need to go to the bathroom. Please ask the the waiter to defer the entrée until I am back."
"Okay." Booth said. He looked relieved.
Their hands parted only reluctantly when she went away from the table.
"You know what...?" Her father said when she went away. "I really really like you Booth..." The rest of the sentence blurred with the noises and conversations coming from other tables, inaudible for her to understand.
She liked taking a stroll with Booth. The air was still warm, the last sunlight of the day was just about to vanish. Booth had put his arm around her while they walked back after their dinner appointment with her father and brother.
"That went very well." Booth acknowledged. A smile went over his face. "I told you – they would be happy for us!" He bent over to her and kissed her.
She put both her arms around his neck, pulled him close. Returned his kiss. "You're predictions concerning their reactions were remarkably exact..." She conceded.
Of course, she had learned a lot from him when it came to assessing people's motives and behavior. But she had to acknowledge that Booth was extraordinary talented in that area – and though she was a genius – she would probably never reach the same level of accuracy when it came to predict people's response in a particular situation. "You knew that my father would be okay with you as my boyfriend." She complimented him.
"Well," he said after a while, "I kind of knew that for a long time... I mean, that I knew that he would..." He chuckled. "We had – a strange kind – of conversation about it years ago..."
"What kind of conversation...?" She asked confused. Her father and Booth had talked about her and Booth getting together years ago? This did not make any sense.
"Oh – well, he once asked me if I were sleeping with you... And if not, why not? If I was gay – because I wasn't sleeping with you back then..." He smiled. "He said that I was a good man – and that he wanted a good man for you..." Booth looked somewhat embarrassed. Perhaps it had been an uncomfortable conversation with her father for him back then. Probably remembering it now still made him feel embarrassed. "It was a long time ago – before my brain tumor, before I ever was in love with you..." He quickly added, almost as if he felt compelled to apologize for it now.
"Oh." She said. Confused what to think of it, what to think of her father apparently having asked Booth years ago to sleep with her. Could it have been one reason why Booth had fallen in love with her after his brain surgery? She actually did not like to think back at that time. Because it also meant to think back at the conversation they had had two years ago, outside at the Reflecting Pool. Booth had confessed to her back then that he wanted to give them a try, that he had had feelings for her, feelings beyond just a mere professional relationship. She had turned him down back then. Too afraid. Too scared. She had not known how to love another human being back then. Therefore she had reacted in the worst possible way – and had broken his heart. She knew that now. She understood it now, even though she hadn't back then.
She never wanted to break his heart again, and she would try very hard not to. She loved him. Perhaps, in a strange inexplicable way it was possible that Booth was right, that she and Booth had been meant to be together? Her father obviously had believed that years ago...
A thought struck her. "What did Dad say to you while I was in the bathroom?" She asked curiously.
He did not answer immediately, remained silent for a couple of seconds. Then he actually laughed. She looked at him confused, she did not understand what his laughter was supposed to mean.
"He threatened me." Booth said. He was still grinning.
"What?" She asked somewhat astounded. "I don't understand. What did he threaten you with?" She didn't know if she was supposed to be upset. If she was to call her father immediately to demand an explanation from Max.
Booth' hand reached up for her cheek. With his index finger he gently raised her chin to look at him. "Max said – I'm still the best man he could ever wish for you to be with..." Booth kissed her. "But..., if I ever was going to break your heart or hurt you in any way..." he continued, "...well, ...they would never even find my body... – I believe those where the exact words he used."
"Dad!" She called out. Of course, this was rather pointless, given that her father wasn't here with them. Still she had felt the need to utter her protest right away.
"I am not worried." Booth placated her. He kissed her again, his lips remained close to hers. "There is no way that I am ever going to hurt you..." He whispered. "I love you." He added. "Your Dad knows that... They all knew – Pops, your Dad... In a way, they all knew for a long time that we were meant to be together, Bones. Probably even longer than we knew that ourselves..." Booth smiled.
"I don't believe in fate." She said. "I don't believe in predetermination."
"I know." Booth said, his fingers gently touched her cheek. "But it happens. Look at us. We don't always make sense – but still we do."
"I don't know what that means..." She replied having lost his logic there.
"Do you love me?" Booth asked her out of the blue.
"Yes. Yes of course. I love you."
"...See, that's all I need to know." He smiled. "And that's all the world needs to know to be happy for us."
"Okay." She said, believing that she actually understood now what Booth meant. "We do make sense." She repeated what he had said.
"We do." He emphazised. "We were the last ones to know – but the world, the universe, our family, our friends – they all new about it for a long long time."