AN: Thanks for the prop-ups on that last chapter, guys. Your reviews were really encouraging spots of sunshine for me, and got me writing this one faster. You're the best!
Dr. Sweets folded his lanky body forward, peering at his patients carefully.
"And you, Agent Booth?" he continued, "How do you feel about the personal boundaries that you and Dr. Brennan maintain?"
I don't want any boundaries. No walls, no fences, no lines. I want to be closer to her than the color of her own skin. "Our boundaries are fine, Sweets," he growled instead.
"Dr. Brennan, you're the one who brought up the term 'boundaries'-surely you must have something to say on the topic?" Sweets prodded.
"I-" Brennan shut her mouth quickly, feeling tricked. She had only been attempting to placate Sweets by proffering a safe topic that the psychologist could easily exhaust for the duration of their hour's session.
"Just answer this, then. Are the boundaries too strict, or not strict enough?"
"Too strict," she answered before she could stop herself.
Booth's eyebrows jumped towards the ceiling as he turned to unexpectedly find his partner actually engaging in Sweets' shrinkology.
"Okay!" Sweets enthused. "Too strict how?"
"It's nothing," she attempted to evade, darting a look at her partner. "Our boundaries are fine. I shouldn't have said anything."
"Come on, Dr. Brennan. We can't make any progress if we don't step forward," Sweets said, paddling his hands through a series of overly-articulated gestures.
"It's okay, Bones," Booth said quietly. "I'd, ah... like to know, if there's a problem or anything."
The quiet and oddly vulnerable tone from her partner made her feel instantly contrite. She realized how much he was trying, since it was so wildly out-of-character for him to suffer Sweet's questions. The thought of him making such an effort was... sweet. "It's nothing serious. I just... our boundaries have become more strict lately, and though I recognize the reality of... it was somewhat difficult..."
"I'm not following here, Bones," Booth shook his head.
"For example, you- you asked me once to be part of Parker's village. I didn't understand at the time that you meant temporarily. Perhaps I should have guessed that, but I didn't. And I miss seeing Parker, that's all," she concluded quietly. "He's a very likable child."
Sweets settled heavily back against his chair, wincing sympathetically for Booth. Without apparently meaning to, Dr. Brennan had come out swinging and hit him directly in the... fatherhood.
Booth sighed heavily and stared at the floor until he felt his partner's eyes hesitantly turn to him. I'm sorry, he mouthed to her, completely subsumed by guilt. This time it wasn't just for his partner, but for his son too.
Sweets let the tension simmer for a few moments longer before suggesting that Booth share his feelings about Dr. Brennan's statement. And he was, of course, wholly unsurprised when Booth's vulnerable expression disappeared behind a cloaked neutrality and the agent jumped sharply to his feet with a brusque, "Lunch, Bones?"
"Hmm?" she asked, caught in her own thoughts.
"Lunch? How bout it, Bones?" he repeated, reaching down for her elbow.
"We still have fifteen minutes, guys," Sweets argued half-heartedly.
"You take an early lunch then too, Sweets," Booth suggested. "Just not at the diner—that's where we're going."
The psychologist rolled his eyes as Dr. Brennan gathered her coat and allowed herself to be ushered from the office.
Once out of Sweets' reach, Brennan moved towards the elevators, buttoning her coat. She pulled her phone from the pocket, clicking through her voicemail dutifully.
"Bones?" Booth asked, hovering awkwardly behind her.
"Oh!" she jumped. "I'm sorry, I thought you'd gone back to your office."
He looked askance at her, eyeing her curiously. "Lunch? Didn't we just agree to have lunch back there?"
She returned his gaze blankly for a moment until understanding dawned. "You were serious?" she asked.
"What? Of course I'm... why would you ask that?"
It was Brennan's turn to stare at her partner curiously. "The last few times you've announced a sudden need for lunch during one of our therapy sessions, it was just a codeword that allowed us to escape..." she explained slowly. "We never actually went to lunch afterwards. Sometimes you went to lunch with Hannah, but for the most part I just returned to work."
The terminus of Booth's jaw jumped harshly, and Brennan flinched slightly, assuming she had said something inappropriate.
"I didn't mean for that to upset you," she said cautiously, laying her hand carefully on his sleeve. She felt foolish, constantly patting his arms like this, but it was one of her only fallbacks to express friendship. Words seemed too fraught with misunderstanding lately.
"Please-" he grunted, eyes squeezed shut. "Stop being so nice to me about this stuff, Bones. Please."
"I don't understand..."
"I feel like you're always being careful of my feelings lately. And you shouldn't be. I deserve it," he said rawly, looking deep into her eyes. "I deserve every bit of it. Taking Parker away from you and you away from him, using lunch with you as an excuse to get away from Sweets... I need to feel the weight of this right now, okay? Stop trying to make it hurt less."
With absolutely no idea of how to reply, Brennan simply nodded, trying to pacify him. She understood that he was trying to punish himself for neglecting their friendship, but it seemed irrational and counter-productive to her. If they were really attempting to get their pleasant working partnership back on track, he would need to forgive himself eventually. His contrition was just making her feel awkward.
"I'll just get my stuff and be right with you, okay?" he asked. "Lunch is on me today—no arguing."
Catholics and their guilt, she sighed to herself mentally, as she waited for Booth to grab his coat and take her to lunch. She didn't say anything out loud though—she had learned that lesson long ago.
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When the doorbell rang at noon sharp on Saturday, as they had agreed on, Brennan hesitated only briefly to check her reflection in the mirror before opening the door.
"3D SHARKS! SHARKS IN 3D!" Parker shouted in greeting, throwing himself around her hips in a hug so fierce and fast that it nearly crushed the 3D glasses wrapped across his face. She could barely react before he had already catapulted himself into the living room, shouting "I have to go to the bathroom and then we can goooooooooooo!" as he vanished.
His father stood bemused in the doorway. "Late breakfast, extra syrup, sugar seizure. Sorry," he grinned.
Parker had peppered him with shark-related questions all morning, and even though Booth had suggested he save the trivia for Bones, it hadn't slowed the boy's relentless pace of inquiries. "What's the real name for a great white shark?" he'd demanded.
"Fishicus ginormicus," Booth had muttered, blowing the steam off his morning coffee.
"Is that true?"
Booth had looked at his son's earnest eyes and relented. "No," he grinned. "You'll have to ask Bones."
And now they'd finally arrived to collect her, thank goodness. All marine-related inquests could be directed her way.
"I'm looking forward to this," Bones said adorably, rifling through her purse for her apartment key. "I've never been to a three-dimensional film. And I'm bringing Dramamine in case any of us become motion sick."
Booth shuddered, remembering the perilously tall stack of pancakes his son had just ingested. "Let's really, really hope not."
"Are you guys ready?" Parker demanded, skidding to a halt next to them.
"You know, Parker, you probably shouldn't wear your 3D glasses until we're in the theater. They'll just make everything appear blurry," Bones advised.
"I know. I could barely see to pee straight," Parker reported gleefully.
"Parker!" Booth scolded, watching Brennan's mouth twist in an adorable moue of displeasure.
"It's okay," she assured, taking a deep breath. "Let's just..."
"SHARKS IN 3D! 3D BLOODBATH!" Parker hollered, dragging them both to the door by their sleeves.
Booth shot his partner an apologetic half-smile over Parker's head and was relieved to see Bones return his grin. He was almost as excited as his son, but for very different reasons. Not only would he be spending the entire afternoon with his two favorite people, he would get to watch Bones take in her very first schlocky nature-horror movie. He absolutely adored watching Bones discover new things, and being the one to share them with her. Whether she loved it or hated it, he always got a kick out of observing the consummate observer.
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Booth had just turned to sneak a look at his partner when a sudden lunge from a mako shark caused her to jump backwards in her seat with a hilarious "Auugh!"
He couldn't contain his laughter but she didn't seem to notice, mouth slightly agape as she stared, fixated at the movie. Parker must have noticed too, because he snaked the hand that wasn't resting in his greasy popcorn tub onto Bones' lap and wrapped his short fingers between hers.
Booth watched, wide-eyed, as she looked down in surprise and then seemed to squeeze back, returning her gaze to the aquatic chaos before them, contentedly holding hands with his son. Part of him was astonished—neither of them seemed to feel awkward about it at all. Another part of him was jealous—his son had just managed to get further with her than he had. Holding hands at the movies? That was his move! And he'd just been bested by a mop-headed tween!
However, he had to admit that they were so darn cute that he was overjoyed. Bones sat between them, the massive 3D glasses perched on her dainty nose. She snuck occasional pieces of popcorn from the tub on Parker's lap and her mouth kept moving with tiny breathless sounds of amazement at the action on the screen, as if she was so engaged with the scenery she'd forgotten where she was. Parker's face was set in a Joker-like grin of gore-glee. The blue wash of watery light from the screen danced over both of their expressions and Booth found himself wishing he had a camera.
Click. Mental picture taken, he relaxed back in his seat and turned his attention to the chum-guzzling monsters thrashing around a cameraman in a too-fragile looking shark cage. The movie was pretty cool, sure, but nothing compared to the scene beside him.
Booth felt another pang of regret, still strong enough to kick off a surge of fear-adrenaline. You'd think after all these days he would get used to that sharp, white-hot twinge of shame, but apparently he hadn't yet.
The woman beside him was his best friend. And he'd all but ignored her because he was getting some with a woman nowhere near her quality. What kind of friend was he? What kind of father?
Because it was all-too-clear to him again, as he stared at his son's chubby fingers gripping Bones' elegant hand, that she wasn't the only one who'd been hurt when he had unwittingly dismantled their village.
He couldn't undo it. He couldn't explain it. All he could do was do better.
He waited for the next surprise attack, and Bones' reactive gasp, before he found the courage to reach slowly towards her and gently cover her free hand with his own. She glanced down and then up at him, hesitating significantly longer than she had with Parker, and Booth held his breath as he watched the blue reflections skitter across her glasses. He wished he could see her eyes, or that she could see his, but she must have decided it was okay, because after a prolonged moment she turned back to the screen, allowing his fingers their hold on her.
Booth smiled like a total jackass. Even though he'd stolen a move from his own kid, he was feeling pretty proud of himself. He was holding Bones hand, in a dark theater. Sure, he was technically still sharing that privilege with Parker, but somehow that made it even more perfect.
Bones may have asserted many times that she wasn't very domestic, but anyone looking at them in their goofy glasses, matching expressions of amazement, and butter-smeared fingers, would have guessed they were a family.