XII. Ordinariness
It was one rainy early-autumn Saturday, and Seeley Booth was packing his life into boxes. Giving up his apartment was the last step on the ladder that was moving in with Brennan, and he simply had to do it alone. It didn't mean that he wanted to shut her out or that he felt suffocated in their close relationship, no, far from it. But commitment and love... they don't mean that you stop being yourself, an individual human being, and sorting old letters, pictures – all those bits and bobs that shape a life – it was something he had to do alone. She had understood him without words.
Sitting on the wooden floor, pushing Parker's old books and his own comic collection from A to B, sweat was pooling on his neck, running down his strong back, dampening the gray shirt. He found the tiny baby footprint of his boy, he found his father's watch – the only thing he had kept, a bittersweet reminder of a sad childhood. Rebecca's letters from the beginning of their relationship were there, and his old dog tags were there as well.
And of course, she was there. Everywhere he looked, there was proof of Brennan in his life. Old articles about their partnership, a folder with her book reviews, pictures taken at Christmas parties and Halloween. Booth had to chuckle, as he found his "Anthropology for Dummies" book, and his mind traveled back to the very beginning of their partnership when this infuriating and brilliant woman had annoyed him so much.
There was a little figurine as well, and Booth's face twisted in a sad kind of smile, as he caressed it with one careful fingertip.
Hefty Smurf.
Brennan had given it to him not long after he had provided her with Brainy Smurf. He could still remember it vividly. They had just closed a case, but their drinks hadn't been celebratory ones. Only five hours... five hours earlier, and they would have been in time to save the latest victim, a seven year old boy. They hadn't been, and Booth's heart had been heavy and dark. Her big eyes full of compassion, her bottom lip quivering, his partner had balanced the little smurf on her palm, telling him that he would always be a hero, one who took care of people, who tried to save them. The strongest and bravest one among the smurfs.
Booth wrapped the figurine into some paper before putting it into the box. Hefty and Brainy would life together from now on. And maybe... maybe their kid would play with them one day.
Their baby... In the twenty-fourth week of the pregnancy, she was as big as a corncob, weighing more than one pound. Their little girl. Two weeks ago the doctor had confirmed it, and whenever he thought about their daughter, his heart exploded with joy. He wasn't even ashamed to admit that he had cried after learning the news, alternating between kissing Brennan's face and her belly. She could already feel the movements, and even though he would never tell her, Booth was a little bit jealous of the intimate connection between his woman and their child.
Abandoning packing for a moment, he went to his already cleaned fridge and opened a cold bottle of beer. This place... he had lived here for eight years. He had loved here, laughed and cried. Giving it up filled his heart with a trace of melancholy, but Booth supposed that the feeling was okay and natural.
He thought about little Parker running over the hardwood floor, he thought about the countless times he had almost kissed his partner in this apartment and about the actual kisses that had followed. He thought about a night when they had burned a piece of paper and about imperviousness.
Tessa, Rebecca, Hannah and Cam crossed his mind as well, but only briefly. They had been wonderful women, but... they had never been her. No eyes had ever been that blue, no hair that silky. No one had ever looked at him with Brennan's heart-crushing combination of vulnerability and stubbornness. No one had ever touched him that deeply.
For so long he had taught his partner about love, had told her about the magic of two people becoming one... it had taken him a while to realize that he could learn a lot from her as well, that she had her very own way of teaching him.
His eyes roamed over the room, and Booth realized that he was almost ready. Almost ready to close the door for a last time, almost ready to go home to his family.
Old times... they had been good, they had been sad. But from now on... it would be their time. And that alone was everything he had ever dreamed of.
-BONES-
Temperance Brennan stood in her kitchen, drinking a glass of fresh orange juice while inside of her the butterflies were moving. Four weeks ago she had felt it for the very first time. Bent over an examination table, reconstructing a skull, something inside of her had fluttered like the softest wing ever, and her whole universe had shifted in a sweet moment of oh. Their baby was moving, and even though it was irrational, Brennan couldn't help but thinking that it was her daughter telling her, "I'm here." Every time she felt it, she patted her belly in response. "I'm here as well, baby, waiting for you."
Their daughter... When the doctor had told them, Brennan had experienced a strange moment of heartache, and even though she had been happy herself, it had been his infinite joy which had touched her the most. His big happy tears, his face so full of love...
The way she wanted him... never before had Brennan felt something that strong, that primeval. Sometimes it almost hurt. Sometimes she was almost mad at her growing belly which didn't allow anymore to snuggle up to him as close as she used to.
Leaving her empty glass in the sink, Brennan padded into the living room on bare feet. Her apartment looked different. Ever since they had agreed upon living here, they had prepared it for their expanding family. Bedroom, bathrooms and kitchen, they were basically the same. The former guestroom was Parker's sanctuary. It was a nice room. A bed and a desk, a lot of toys, a little microscope. One wall was painted with celestial orbs, and her face lit up in a smile, as Brennan remembered an afternoon full of laughter, father and son paint-smeared.
Even though they had bought eco-friendly paint which didn't smell, Brennan hadn't been allowed to help. However, she had been allowed to tell them what to do, to point out the correct position of the stars and planets. Parker had been over the moon about the prospect of getting a sister. Even though she had told him repeatedly that it hadn't been her achievement, the boy had looked at her full of awe, not doubting for a second that it had been Bones fulfilling his wish.
However, it had been the living room which had changed the most. Since it was a modern western belief that a baby needed her own room, they had finally opted against new walls and simply rearranged the spacious room. There were corners now. One for snuggling – with a big couch, a cozy carpet and pillows on the floor. One for family dinners – with a big table, solid chairs and candles. And one... one for the baby. They had painted the wall in a light shade of pink. There was a white crib, and there was a diaper-changing table. There was a lamp as well, and switched on it projected colorful butterflies on the wall.
It was a corner of hope and happiness.
Maybe they'd have to move in a few years, maybe Parker would share a room with his sister, maybe they'd erect some walls after all, but for the moment it was perfect.
Taking a seat in the new rocking chair, Brennan caressed her belly while her gaze flew over a room that was waiting to be filled with life, and deep peace settled over her.
Booth was in his old apartment, packing up the rest of his stuff. Over the course of the past weeks most of his everyday things had already mingled with hers. Vintage model cars shared a shelf with old artifacts, his stadium seats were an interesting addition to their rooftop terrace. They had bought a second closet and a new bed as well. Rationally speaking, the bed hadn't been necessary, but in a rare moment of emotional wisdom, she had simply agreed, keeping her mouth shut. Brennan understood his wish to start their new life with a bed she hadn't shared with another man before him.
Along with the increasing size of her belly, her anger about being excluded from cop work had vanished. She felt great, she truly did, but bending over corpses, moving in narrow spaces... it had gotten surprisingly difficult. She had lost her flexibility as well. Brennan had always been proud of her martial art skills, but these days her exercises had changed. A sigh left her lips, as she thought about her prenatal yoga class. The other women there were so... pregnant.
Temperance Brennan had embraced the idea of motherhood, she was living in an exclusive romantic relationship with the one man she truly loved, and she was looking forward to their child. However, she was still Temperance Brennan, and she did not want to talk about heartburn, weight gain and cravings. And most definitely, she didn't want to talk about it with strangers.
She found it irritating how her belly had turned into a piece of public interest, and even though it was kind of nice how much their friends felt involved, it was rather disturbing when the waitress in the Diner was approaching her with an outstretched hand before a stern look had been able to stop her last-minute.
Brennan didn't like that at all.
What she liked on the other hand, truly and really liked, was Booth's dark head resting on her belly, telling his daughter about his day. The baby reacted to his voice, and very often a tiny movement inside of her followed his tales. He couldn't feel it yet, but she told him about it every single time. Brennan knew that Booth was happy, that she made him happy, but sometimes she could sense a hunch of sadness, maybe even jealousy, and even though he never mentioned it, she tried to include him as much as she could.
Butterflies, a wave, wind, bubbles – she came up with a lot of words to describe the fluttering sensation inside of her, and he rewarded her with a lot of smiles and kisses.
Another beautiful thing, one she couldn't think about without warmth spreading out inside of her, was their lovemaking. Brennan was incredibly grateful that Booth didn't have a prudish problem with touching his pregnant woman in a sexual way, but, nonetheless, it had gotten different. Over the last weeks it had changed simultaneously with her body. Since he couldn't lift her anymore, pinning her against a wall while pumping into her in a rhythm that left her without any coherent thought, they had settled on more conventional places and positions.
And while their passion was neither inhibited nor denied, sometimes he touched her like a fragile piece of china, reverence written all over his face. Brennan had never thought that care could be sexy, but the way he hold her, the way he rocked her – it made her feel so damn precious and desired.
He made her feel beautiful as well. Brennan had always been slender and well-shaped, and even though she was a sophisticated and well-educated woman, she couldn't help but being a little insecure about her new curves. She hadn't mentioned it, neither had he, but the way he devoured her naked body with his dark eyes, the look of utmost adoration on his face reassured her in a way that words never could.
After all those years, all those ups and downs, all those moments where something had almost happened – after all they've been through... their life had gotten almost ordinary. Their love story had been a tale, had been epic, and now they were past the happy end. Only that it wasn't the end; it wasn't even the beginning. It was just one random moment of happiness, one perfect point where two souls had touched and melted. And if happiness was ordinary, Booth and Brennan didn't mind being ordinary.
Brennan's sweet rocking chair musings were interrupted by his key in the door, and her lips curved up in a smile, as her partner manifested in the room, balancing two big boxes in his arms.
"Hi Babe," she said, before he could do it.
He chuckled in response, putting down the boxes and approaching her.
"You've stolen my line," he complained, and she could smell the salty tangle of man and sweat, as he bent down to kiss her hello.
His lips were moving over hers like warm little pillows, and she hummed in contentment. Considering the sheer number of years she had spent fighting this, it was almost ridiculous how quickly she had gotten addicted to all those signs of affection.
"Do you have a room for one homeless man?" he joked after releasing her, and Brennan regarded him in momentary confusion.
"I'm quite positive that this has to be a joke since your name is already on the papers, and something tells me that I should answer in a romantic way. Hmm... what about... Even if I lived under a bridge, I would always have room for you in my arms."
"Aw," he answered drily but couldn't help being amused by her reply.
Grabbing his shirt, Brennan pulled him down for another kiss, this time less gentle, and for a moment he lost himself in her.
"This is your home, Booth. You've painted the walls, you've put together the crib, you have the love of the people living here," she breathed into his ear after breaking the kiss, sending shivers down his spine.
"Just so you know, you rock, Baby," he stated seriously.
Brennan gave him a cocky grin.
"I do know that."
"I love your modesty."
"I love your tidiness."
"Truce?"
"Fine."
Her gaze wandered from the boxes on the floor back to his face.
"You wanna unpack them?"
Booth regarded the boxes for one silent moment,
"I don't know. Most of it are old memories, and I'm not sure if I wanna unpack them at all. Hefty is there as well, he can join Brainy Smurf later. You know, maybe we should buy Smurfette for our little doll."
"And maybe you should stop calling her 'little doll'."
"Easier said than done, Bones. It's not as if we've found another name, yet."
"You haven't been that cooperative."
"Hey, Maggie is a cute name."
"I'm so not naming my daughter Maggie. And most definitely not because of the yellow cartoon family you love so much."
H groaned in mock disapproval.
"The Simpsons."
"Right. Them. And no."
They hadn't tried that hard to find a name for their baby, yet. After all, they still had four more months. However, since both of them had suffered from their unorthodox names, they had easily agreed on a normal name. Nonetheless, there was more than one kind of normal. She liked Rose. He liked Lucy. They would compromise... eventually.
"If we buy a smurf for our daughter we should buy one for Parker as well."
"Maybe we should get the whole village."
"Minus the cat."
"Hey, you need a villain."
"Can't they just," she shrugged adorably, "live happily ever after?"
"But that's a boring story."
"Are we a boring story?"
"No, but we are not a story. We are real."
"We are boring, then?"
"Do you feel boring?"
She shook her head.
"Not at all."
"Good."
Standing in front of her, Booth took her all in. Comfortable sweatpants, a simple top and a belly band decorated with tiny skulls. The latter was a gift from Angela, and it made him smile every single time. It was so fitting. Six months pregnant, Brennan looked like every incarnation of beauty. Her hair was even softer, her face fuller, her cheeks rosy, her eyes bright. And, oh holy Jesus, her body... His eyes darkened, as they caressed her curves, and a change in her breath pattern told him that she had sensed it somehow.
Blinking once, twice, Booth tried to banish the haze of longing that clouded his mind, but when he met her gaze, it took his breath away with its intensity.
"I want you as well, Booth, you know that, right? Just as much," she stated, and once again he was taken aback by her way of understanding him.
Crouching down, he took her hand in his, caressing her knuckles with his fingers.
"Not possible."
Leaning forward, she brushed his nose with her own.
"So very possible. You wanna argue about relative positions again?"
His free arm came around her neck, tugging her head to his shoulder.
"From where I am standing, you are perfect. I love you."
"Hmm... that's a relative position I love to hear about," she murmured languidly.
Shifting his head, he pressed a kiss on her temple before releasing her.
"I think I'll grab a quick shower. Any plans for the evening?"
"I'm lazy," she answered, stretching in her rocking chair. "What about watching some episodes of the TV show we stumbled upon last week?"
"Moonlighting?"
"Yes. The male protagonist was quite appealing."
He groaned.
"Yes, because he is Bruce Willis. Sometimes I don't know if getting this great TV system was a blessing or a curse."
"I enjoy that show. The description of their work isn't really authentic, but it is quite humorous."
"Yeah, if I recall correctly, they had three good seasons."
"What happened then?"
"Onscreen they hooked up. Off-screen the actors lost interest. The scripts got boring. Of course people blamed it on the loss of sexual tension."
"What do you believe?"
"I believe in good stories. Fulfilled love doesn't have to be boring."
She smiled at his answer.
"We are the proof."
"Yes, but then again, we are real, Babe."
"But if we were a story..."
"We would still be mind-blowing."
"You wanna watch some episodes then?"
"You, the TV, the couch – I'm one happy man."
"Great. You take your shower, I'll prepare the popcorn."
One quick kiss later she was alone again without... being alone. Cupping her belly, Brennan got up and walked into the kitchen. The sound of running water and his carefree humming accompanied her.
"You know what?" she spoke to the baby. "I love him, I really do. But I promise you that I won't let him name you 'Maggie'."
The baby shifted inside of her, and even though Brennan knew that it was pure coincidence or a simple reaction to her own movement, she liked the idea that her daughter agreed with her.
Fifteen minutes later, Brennan was sprawled out on the couch, her head lying in Booth's lap, a huge bowl of popcorn resting on her belly. His fingers played with her dark hair absentmindedly while the events on the TV screen unfolded. Every now and then his free hand snatched into the bowl, providing either her or himself with a mouthful of the sweet treat. Chewing slowly, he relished the ridiculous perfection of the moment, the sensation of her petal-like lips touching his fingers whenever he fed her, the weight of her head on his thigh.
"Hey, Bones?"
"Huh?"
"We're living together."
A smile spread out on her face, as she turned her head until she could look up at him. Damp hair, dark eyes, weekend stubble. Coziness itself.
"I know."
"It's pretty cool, huh?"
"I love it," she said, and her voice was as sweet as the popcorn. Her dark hair was splayed out on his lap, her pale blue eyes were calmer than any ocean could ever be but just as deep.
"Do you believe it fate?" he asked one more time, one corner of his mouth curving up.
"Absolutely not," she responded, as always.
"I still do."
"Fate, coincidence, free will – whatever it has been, Booth, we're here now."
"Isn't that reassuring?"
"It is about time. One year ago... I was so sure that I had lost you."
His face clouded for the fraction of a moment.
"I have been so stupid."
"So have I. I believe that, among the three of us, Hannah has been the truly smart one. She has known her place and her time."
He stroked her cheek in a featherlight caress.
"You're so gracious. So warm, so open-hearted..."
She let go of a brief laughter.
"Oh, Booth, believe me when I tell you that Hannah had a very prominent role in my perfect murder plan."
"You have never given up on me, Bones."
She shrugged.
"You believe in fate, and I have always believed in you."
His heart opened, and he was carried away by a wave of mushiness. Bending down, he sought her lips for a kiss that was teetering on the brink of desperation.
"One day, one day you are killing me with your words."
She frowned.
"They were meant to delight you."
"Yeah, and I will die a happy man."
"You are not allowed to die, Booth," she insisted in child-like stubbornness, and he almost had to smile.
"Sorry, I won't die. Not at all."
"Don't make fun of me. I'm still struggling with those pregnancy hormones."
"Aw, you're cute."
Brennan ogled him inquiringly, finally deciding that he was serious. Shaking her head in incomprehension, she pulled him down to kiss him again. His lips parted for hers, his tongue explored the depth of her mouth, tangling with hers. One hand sneaked under her head, supporting her, while his other one cupped the sensitive globe of her breast, swirling his thumb over the already taut bud.
She moaned at his touch, arching into it, and his response was instinctual, as he growled low in his throat, deepening the kiss. He played her like an instrument he knew very well, pulling just the right strings. At some point, the popcorn fell down, but she couldn't care less. All that mattered were his hands on her, his lips on her.
Then she could smell him, the very unique scent of his arousal lingering in the air, and she was burning.
Clothes were discarded, hands were everywhere. Their breathless moans and sighs mingled with the voices coming out of the TV, but none of them could bother to search the remote between the cushions.
Then he was moving over her, in her – so very carefully not to crush her, giving and taking at the same time. Brennan didn't even know what aroused her more, the giving or the taking part, but she couldn't really think about it too long. This was Booth looking at her, his face twisted in sweet agony, a sheen of sweat covering his forehead. It were his strong back under her hands, his narrow hips between her spread thighs, his flat belly brushing her rounded one, his body so deep inside of her.
His warmth rushing into her and out of her, imprinting her all over again, giving her what only he had ever been able to give.
And when her world was quivering, when her muscles contracted around his pulsating heat, she held his gaze, letting him fall with her and into her.
Consummation... if it was boring, Seeley Booth and Temperance Brennan were very happy with that label.
To be continued...
Okay, I need your inspiration. Writing happiness can be boring, but I refuse to drown into artificial problems, and I suck at writing cases. I have some more ideas, but please, help me. Inspire me. What do you want to read? And... do you still wanna read more?
