Ch 12

Brennan watched Parker splashing around in the pool in front of her, flippers on his feet and snorkel and mask on his face. He was a decent swimmer and was probably very good for his age, she thought. But he was having a little trouble with the snorkeling concept, and she had been wondering why as she watched him practicing from farther off from time to time over the past few days.

Getting an idea, she swam closer to him and held her hand over the top of the snorkel, a few inches above it so she could feel the air coming out the top. Her suspicions confirmed, she stood up; they were in the shallow end of the pool, and it only reached halfway up her chest.

"Parker! Stop for a second!" He couldn't hear her, obviously. She tapped him on the shoulder and grabbed him around the waist, lifting him up out of the water.

He went still and looked at her in confusion through his mask. It was easy to keep him above the water with one arm, so she pulled his mask up onto his forehead to see his face.

"What did I do wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing, you're doing very well," she said encouragingly. "But I think you're having the same problem I had when I first started SCUBA lessons."

"I am?" he asked, looking rather impressed.

She nodded. "Here, take a break for a moment so you can listen." She carried him to the side of the pool and lifted him onto the edge, sitting him down.

He shivered almost immediately; it was much cooler at night. "Too cold," he complained, leaning back over and reaching for her.

She pulled him back into the pool and held him to her with one arm so he didn't have to split his concentration between listening and swimming. "You're using a lot of your energy up because you're breathing very, very rapidly through your snorkel," she explained. "I did the same thing; I was burning through the supply in my air tanks nearly three times as fast as I should have been. It's scary at first, to breathe through the tube. You have to sort of… train your brain to trust that the air will be there when you need it; that you don't need to gulp it all down at once. Your body is trained to do that when you're under water, because your body knows you can't breathe underwater. It's… hard to explain."

"Breathe slower."

"Yes. I think it might help if we get you swimming a little slower for a bit while you practice just the breathing part, so let's put your floaties back on so you don't have to work so hard to stay afloat."

"But I can do it without floaties," Parker insisted.

"I know you can, sweetie, but if you go snorkeling in the ocean you'll have a life jacket on anyway. It's not because you can't swim without them."

"Okay," he agreed a bit reluctantly. She got the floaties that had been lying abandoned near the shower, and slid them up his arms. He put his mask back on and waited for instruction.

She held her hand above the snorkel and said, "Try to breathe slowly."

He obeyed, and breathed slowly and evenly for several moments, until she let go of him gently, only holding him by the elbow to help keep him in place. The floaties and his flippers made it easy for him to stay above water, but immediately she could tell he was breathing harder again.

She pulled him back to her and said, "Hmm, how are we going to do this? Let's see…"

After a couple of failed attempts, she found something that seemed to be working. She had him floating on his stomach in front of her, being as still as he could be, with his face in the water. She kept him from floating away with one arm and kept checking his breathing with the other hand. Once he got used to the sensation of being face down in the water for long periods of time without struggling for breath, she let him start kicking slowly.

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When Booth went looking for him after finishing his bath, he was surprised that they were still in the pool. The air was chilly outside and it was very dark, although the cold might have been hitting him more because he had been in a very hot tub for forty-five minutes.

There was a lot of splashing going on in the pool, but he could clearly see, from the doorway that led to the pool, that they were swimming back and forth along the length of the pool, Brennan swimming backwards, on her back, pulling Parker along by the hands while he kicked and used his snorkel. Now that he saw them doing it that way, the technique seemed so obvious he wondered why he hadn't thought of that days ago.

He watched them do a few lengths of the pool, then stop. She picked him up for a few moments to let him rest, then said, "Ready to try it by yourself?"

He pushed his mask up onto his forehead and looked nervous.

"You can do it, Parker, you're ready. Just remember to count while you breathe, and go slowly. I know there's not a lot to look at in the pool, but when you're in the ocean, there will be so many things for you to see that you won't want to go fast."

"Okay," he said, still sounding a little nervous.

She must've spotted Booth lurking in the doorway, because she said something quietly to Parker, and he turned towards him quickly and waved. "Hi, Daddy! I'm snorkeling way better!"

"I see, buddy, good job!"

"Watch, I can do it by myself now without hyper… hyper…"

"Hyperventilating," Brennan supplied gently.

"Yeah. Hyper-vent-lating," Parker repeated. "Anyway, watch, Dad!" He pulled his mask back down determinedly, nodding at the instructions being quietly reminded to him as Brennan helped him pull off his floaties.

She let go of him and they both watched him swim the length of the pool by himself. He floundered a bit at first but then must have remembered what to do, because he was soon swimming along, smoothly. He turned around at the wall and came back to her, throwing his arms around her excitedly and pulling his mask off as she lifted him up by the armpits.

"Good job, Parker, you're not even out of breath!"

"I counted the whole time, Tempe, I did it!" Grinning and just about bursting with pride, he turned to his dad. "I did it, Daddy! Did you see?"

"Yes, I did, Parker, great job! That's awesome! I think it's way past bedtime now though, buddy."

"Aww… I wanted to learn how to dive and come back up and keep breathing."

"That's much trickier, Parker, we might need to do that tomorrow," Brennan told him.

"Okay," he agreed reluctantly.

"Aren't you guys cold?" Booth asked, bringing over their towels as she boosted Parker up out of the pool.

"Yup!" Parker said with a grin as Booth wrapped a towel around his shoulders. Brennan got out of the pool too, taking the towel he handed her with a teeth-chattering thank you.

"It's not too cold until you get out of the water," she said as Booth rubbed Parker's arms through the towel.

They all hurried inside, Brennan heading straight for a hot shower, while Booth helped Parker get ready for bed, deciding he could just take a bath tomorrow. It was a vacation, after all, and late, and Parker was tired, but excited over his snorkeling success. Booth listened to his son recounting the lesson in detail while he helped him into his pajamas and helped him brush his teeth.

As Booth tucked Parker into bed – on the bottom bunk, tonight – he asked casually, "What were you talking to Angela about, buddy?"

He shrugged. "She just asked me a bunch of questions, like were we having fun, what were we doing and everything. Oh, and she wanted to know if you guys were kissing and hugging each other and sleeping together."

Booth's eyes widened. "What did you tell her?"

"I told her the truth, Daddy," Parker said, clearly puzzled. "I saw you guys hugging a few times, and we all slept in Tempe's room last night because of her bad dream… why? Why does Miss Angela care where we sleep?"

"Uh, she's just funny like that, Parks. Do you need some water before bed?"

"Nope. Where's Dude?" Parker asked suddenly, looking around.

"You left him on the couch. I'll go get him, buddy, you stay here."

Parker nodded. Booth hurried out to collect the stuffed penguin and took it back to Parker, who hugged it to his side happily and said, "This is the most funnest vacation ever, Daddy. And we haven't even gone parasailing yet!"

"Tomorrow, bub. I'm glad you're having a good time."

"I'm glad you're having a good time too, Daddy. It's a good thing Tempe came, huh?"

"Yes, it is. But why do you say that?"

He shrugged. "You have more fun when she's around."

"Aw, Park. I would have had a wonderful time if it was just the two of us. We had fun on the boat today, didn't we?"

Parker nodded. "Yes. But it's okay, Daddy. I want you to have a lot of fun too. I love you."

"I love you too, buddy. You're the best little boy in the world, you know that, right?"

Parker nodded and held his arms out for a hug. Booth leaned over and hugged him, kissing his head and sitting up carefully so as not to bang his head on the underside of the top bunk.

He pulled the covers up a little higher around his son and said, "Sweet dreams, Parker. I'll see you in the morning, okay?"

He nodded and, when Booth got up to leave, asked, "Is Tempe going to come in and say goodnight too?"

It occurred to him for the first time, then, that his son had quickly become at least as attached to his partner as he was. He couldn't blame the boy for that, but for the first time it scared him a little, because he was fairly certain that his son was not currently capable of understanding the complexity of the relationship he and his partner shared. How could he? Booth himself didn't understand it half the time, because sometimes, like now, on this trip together, everything seemed alarmingly simple and easy. Yet when they got back to their everyday lives, the complexities would emerge again, the next time she said she couldn't have dinner with him because she was dating a fireman or a paleontologist or an old professor, or whoever it was at the moment, the next time Sweets touched a nerve with one of them in "couples therapy," the next time her brother or her father showed up, the next time one of them got hurt in the line of duty…

"Daddy?" Parker prompted, interrupting his musings.

"Sorry, buddy. I'll go see if she's done with her shower."

"Thanks." Parker smiled.

Booth returned the smile and left the door partially open. He headed towards his partner's room and stopped outside the door, listening for sounds of the shower being on. He didn't hear any, so he knocked on the cracked door. She opened the door almost immediately, hairbrush in hand, wet hair halfway combed out, in her pajamas and an untied robe.

"Parker wants to say goodnight," he said quickly.

"Okay." She squeezed past him in the doorway and headed off to say goodnight to Parker.

Booth went into the living room, thought about turning on the television, but didn't, sinking down into a corner of the couch instead.

She came back out soon, sat down at the other end of the couch, and finished combing out her hair. He watched her, simultaneously fascinated by it but also miles away, thoughts wandering aimlessly.

"Booth?" she prompted. She was giving him an amused look. "Did the bath work? Does your back feel okay now? Do you want more aloe vera?"

He had a sudden image of her straddling him and rubbing his back and pushed it firmly out of his mind, a voice in his head that sounded annoyingly like his partner pointing out, as he willed the thought aside, that he could not have possibly seen her from that angle anyway, if he'd been lying on the floor on his stomach…

"No! I'm fine, thanks. It's much better now. Your magic bathtub worked great."

She rolled her eyes and couldn't resist pointing out, "There's no such thing as magic."

"Says the woman who was reading Harry Potter to my son earlier."

"Fantasy in fiction is good for children, Booth. It's allegorical; it can explore concepts in a safe environment that…"

"Yeah, yeah," he said, waving his hand in the air. "So you're not going to burst his bubble about Hogwarts yet?"

"Of course not!"

"Thanks."

"You're welcome." She smiled at him for what seemed like a long time, then looked away suddenly and said, "Um, don't you want to watch television?"

"We could do something else, if you'd rather," he suggested.

"Like… talk?" she asked, looking uncertain at the prospect.

"If you want. Is there something else you wanted to talk about?"

"No," she said quickly. "I mean… no. I feel much better about everything we talked about earlier, and… to be honest, I think I'm kind of talked out for one day."

He nodded, understanding what she meant. "Want to play cards?" he suggested.

"I don't know that many games…"

"What games do you know?" he asked, going over to the cabinet under the television, where there were a few games and a bunch of DVDs.

"Um, I learned black jack when we were in Vegas. Rus and I used to play concentration; I always won."

"Yeah, and you'd win hands down now too. What else?"

"Gin. Slap jack…"

"Excellent! We'll play slap jack."

She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling and sitting up. "Booth, that's not really fair. I'm sure as a former Ranger you have much more finely honed reflexes than I do…"

"How many black belts do you have?" he asked dismissively, sitting down on the edge of the sofa and shuffling the cards. "Come on, you'll more than hold your own." He didn't mention the fact that he was quite certain she would slap his hand as hard as she could, holding nothing back, whereas he knew he wouldn't be able to stop himself from pulling back a bit.

"All right, fine. Just deal."

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"That one's mine!"

"No way, Booth! Half my fingers are under yours!"

"And half of mine are under yours!" he countered.

They were squared off, leaning in towards each other slightly, having a silent standoff as they'd had any number of times during cases… over a messy pile of cards with the jack of hearts on top.

After it became clear neither was going to concede, Booth offered, "Leave it? Next winner takes all?"

She nodded and they released the cards at the same time, both hands retreating to their own stacks slowly. They flipped over six more cards together, then both turned up a jack at the same time. It was clear who got there first this time, but the victory was somewhat stunted. "Ouch! Bones! Did you have to hit the back of my hand so hard?"

"Sorry," she said automatically, not sounding sorry in the least.

"Uh-huh," he said doubtfully. "You want a rematch, or are you willing to admit defeat?"

"No."

He laughed. "No to both?"

"Yes. I do not admit defeat, but I do not want a rematch at the moment."

"Okay. What would you like to do, then?"

She shrugged and got up to look through the DVD selection. Booth was always teasing her about her lack of pop culture knowledge. She picked up a movie that looked interesting and started reading the back cover.

"Oh come on, that doesn't even count, that movie's almost 60 years old!"

"You've seen it?"

"A long time ago."

"Want to watch it again?"

"Sure," he shrugged.

She put it into the DVD player and sat down next to him on the couch. "The Philadelphia Story… did you have to watch this in school when you were a child in Pennsylvania?" she asked as the title screen came on.

He laughed. "No, it's not really that kind of a movie. But I think you'll like it. There's a very opinionated woman at the center of it," he said, nudging her shoulder.

She rolled her eyes, but she was laughing, and she scooted a little closer to him and rested her cheek on his shoulder as the movie started.

They were both enjoying the movie, but as it neared the end, Booth realized he was the only one still laughing quietly out loud. He looked down at the top of her head and couldn't tell whether or not she was awake. "Bones?" he tried quietly.

She moved a little and mumbled, "What?"

"Nothing." He rubbed her arm. "Go back to sleep."

"Night, Booth."

He smiled, suddenly now more awake because she was asleep. It was the first time she'd fallen asleep before him.

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