.

The final notes of the movie's dramatic score faded with a plaintive wail as the credits began to roll. Sitting in haphazard poses on the floor in front of the huge TV screen, one teenage girl wiped away tears as, with a quiet sniff, another passed a half-empty box of tissues to a sobbing third.

"That was so beautiful." Her voice thick with tears, Emma accepted the tissues and blew her nose softly. "So beautiful."

Seated on the sofa behind the girls, Brennan snorted and leaned further into the wide shoulder of the man beside her. "I found the ending to be ridiculous."

Christine's hair flew out as her head whipped around toward her mother. "Mom! Didn't you see how much pain they were in? How much it hurt him to know that he was hurting her?" She clutched at her chest dramatically. "It wounded his soul!"

Booth blew out a breath of air so roughly, his lips quivered. "Well, that was his own fault. He should have told her." He picked up the bottle of beer at his elbow and drank deeply.

"Exactly," Brennan responded. She responded with a smile when Booth pressed a brief kiss on her lips and settled his arm behind her shoulders. "His pain is self-inflicted."

The teenagers shared a look of amazement. "But Dr. B," Petra ventured timidly, "he couldn't tell her. Don't you remember? The evil villain swore he would kill everyone in the village if she found out!"

"So the hero believed the villain more than he trusted his wife." Brennan's expression was skeptical.

The three girls spoke over each other in their haste to explain the hero's motivation.

"No, he loved her!"
"He was afraid!"
"He didn't have a choice -"

"There's always a choice." Booth's tone was implacable. "He took the easy way out when he should have trusted her. He should have told her, and asked her to help him fight the bad guy."

"He couldn't take that chance, Dad," Christine argued. "What would you have done, if it were Mom?"

"I would have told her," Booth answered immediately. "Your mother is the smartest person I know," he explained with a wink at Brennan, "and we'd have a better chance of finding an answer together than we would on our own."

"The filmmakers sacrificed authenticity in order to manipulate the audience's emotions," Brennan stated plainly. "They obviously wanted to generate interest in the sequel but frankly," she sniffed, "it was very crudely done."

"They lived in a city of underground tunnels," Booth laughed. "I'm not sure authenticity was . . ."

"Is there any pizza left?" Zach bounded over the banister railing instead of taking the last four stairs and slid into the room on sock-covered feet. "I'm hungry."

Christine dove for the last flat brown box as her brother reached for it. "You already ate an entire pizza! We're saving this for later."

"One slice!"
"No."
"Mom?"
"Mom!"
"Dad!"

"Let's run away from home. The kids can have the house."

Petra sighed happily as Booth's theatrical whisper ended with his lips on Brennan's. "Christine, your mom and dad are so cute," she giggled, as Brennan responded with a smile and words too soft to hear, and another kiss.

"Mom! Dad!"
"Eww, I'm leaving."
"You can't have that pizza! Mom!"
"She can't hear you, she's kissing Dad."
"Mom! Dad!"
.

.

.

In my world, B&B live a life full of love and laughter and family. That's the one I'm going to write about.

Thanks for reading!