Title: Compromise
Prompt: My obsession with Converse All Star shoes
Characters: Booth, Brennan
Time Frame: Future
Word Count: 380...not really a drabble at all
"Booth, we have a problem." Brennan stood in the doorway of the bedroom, arms crossed over her chest. Booth looked up from his spot, lounging on the bed, and turned down the volume on the tv.
"We?"
"Well, it was your problem, but now that I've decided to go ahead and move in, it's become our problem."
Booth raised his eyebrows, unsure if she should be amused or concerned. "And what is that?"
Brennan pursed her lips and pulled open the double closet doors. "This." She indicated with one graceful swoop of her arm, the fact that literally half of his closet was taken up with at least four full tie racks.
He frowned a little and moved to stand beside her. "This is a problem for us? Why?"
Brennan looked at him as if he'd just misquoted the Pythagorean theorem. "Why? Booth, pushing aside the fact that you have so many ties it points to some possibly serious emotional issues we should probably discuss with Sweets…where would you like me to put my things?"
Booth made a slightly perplexed face and then bent over, shoving aside one of his suites and his ties to create a miniscule amount of space. "Right there."
Brennan merely raised one eyebrow and then shook her head. "Booth. You're going to have to get rid of some things, at the very least put them in storage somewhere. And I would suggest starting with the ties."
"But I can't!" Booth immediately protested.
"No I can't put any clothes in there as of right now. Do you still want me to move in?"
"Of course." He grumbled, though he was having second thoughts about it now.
"Then, like you said, there's going to be some compromising. I stop working weekends and you make room for me in the closet." She was having a hard time keeping a straight face with him pouting like that, so she reached up and kissed him on the cheek. "I'll give you a moment alone."
She smiled sympathetically and left the room, shutting the door behind her just in time to hear him call her 'meanie' under his breath. She rolled her eyes as she headed toward the kitchen. Was she in love with an FBI agent or a 12 year-old?
A/N: So this one is really too long to be a drabble of any kind, but I wrote it, shortened it by about 100 words and it was still too long...oh well. I hope you enjoy it anyway.