Aliens in the City
Disclaimer: No, they're not mine - at least not in real life.
A/N: Well, here's the last chapter; there's still an epilogue to come but that really only sets up the sequel. I'm sorry I didn't post Friday but I got sick and really didn't feel like doing much of anything. This is a shorter chapter than my usual because well, we're at the end of the line, I already did everything I set out to do with this fic so this is just some added fluff I added for you guys. I think, my beta and friend Kerry agree, that I've tied up all the loose ends by now; if any of you don't agree, please let me know what I've left hanging and I'll do my best to address it in the epilogue - or if I can't make it work there, I'll re-write this chapter. I really hope it doesn't get to that, though. Ok, as always thanks to Pup and Kerry for all their help. And thanks to everyone that reviewed last chapter. I'm sorry I didn't reply but RL has gotten kinda crazy lately. Please let me know what you think!!
Chapter 25
"How about this one?" Brennan asked as she leaned forward with the laptop so Booth could see the screen. They had decided that if they were going to officially move in together, they should look for a new, bigger place – one that was theirs and not his or hers. A house had made sense to both of them as it would give them the room to grow as a family. Right then, they were looking at house listings on the internet; it was a preliminary search only, one to find out what was available, what each liked, what they didn't like and what they would accept.
It was one of the many things Brennan had been forced to come up with to keep Booth entertained. It had been almost a month since Booth's surgery and he was at that stage where he wasn't quite well enough to move about as easily or freely as he wanted but he was well enough to resent being tied to his bed for as long as he'd been and to be bored out of his mind. In short, he was at that stage of recovery where normal patients were irritable and irritating and patients like Booth downright pains in the behind. Fortunately, the staff at the SGC's infirmary was used to dealing with that type of patient; they had after all dealt with SG1 and the rest of the SG teams for more than ten years.
Brennan had taken her vacation and sick days, of which she had more than a few, to be able to take care of Booth; even if the nurses and doctors at the SGC were capable of dealing with a petulant Booth, she still felt she should be there to keep him company and to distract him. Booth had argued that she should go back to work but she had only left a handful of times to pick up paperwork that she could do while sitting next to him. Since the team wouldn't be accepting any FBI cases while Booth was out of commission and the bodies from limbo could wait, as they weren't going anywhere, Brennan didn't feel there was any need for her to be back at work.
The fact of the matter was that even though Booth was now out of danger, the fear she'd felt when she didn't know if he'd lived or died hadn't completely left her. She knew she was probably overreacting and that acting this needy was out of character for her but she wasn't quite ready to have him out of her sight for more than a couple of hours at a time. She knew that attitude wasn't healthy for her or for him and that she would have to get over it soon enough because while he had been understanding so far, such understanding wasn't endless and he would grow impatient with her sooner or later. Already he'd told her that he expected her to go back to work once he'd been discharged. She hadn't argued but she had decided that while she would go back, it would only be part time. Whatever he said, he would need help and she was determined she would be the one to give it.
"What do you think of it?" she asked him as she shifted closer to him. Instead of answering her, however, he started to nuzzle her neck. "What are you doing?" she asked him as she turned her head to look at him but she was careful not to dislodge him.
"If you have to ask, I'm not doing it right," he smirked into her neck before he started to kiss her neck.
"Booth, you have to stop," she chided him but the only thing she did was turn her head so he'd have better access.
"Why?"
"Because we're in the infirmary," it was said on a sigh.
"So?" it was a verbal shrug.
"So we really shouldn't," not the most eloquent of answers but all she could come up with at the moment. "You're injured, Booth."
"Injured, Bones, not dead," he corrected her. "Besides, I'm doing much better now. And you're my fiancé, Temperance; this is what fiancés do." With that, Booth raised a hand and cupping her chin, turned her head towards his before leaning in to kiss her. He was also at that stage of recovery where he was doing well enough to start to feel . . . frisky.
It had been awhile since they had exchanged more than a simple kiss in greeting, so with a sigh, Brennan closed her eyes and allowed her self to get lost in the kiss. Some time later, the regular noises of a busy sickbay reminded her of where they were and that only a flimsy curtain gave them any privacy. With more of an effort than it should have perhaps taken, though it had been quite a while, Brennan pulled back.
"Seeley," she said. "We need to stop," she repeated.
"Why?" he asked again.
"Booth," it was said in a warning tone as she finally pulled back.
"Okay, okay," he said, giving up with a small grimace.
"Now, what do you think of this house?" she asked yet again as she adjusted her grip on the laptop and brought it back to his attention.
"It's a nice one," he shrugged.
"It's a nice one?" she repeated. "That's all you have to say about it?"
"What else do you want me to say?" he wanted to know.
"It's not what I want you to say," she told him; she sounded just a little frustrated. "What I want is for you to tell me what you really think. If you don't, how am I supposed to know what kind of house you like and/or want?"
"Fine, fine," he gave. With an almost inaudible sigh, he finally studied the image on the screen. "It's a really nice one . . . but don't you think it's a little too big for us."
"Too big?" she frowned. "I don't think so."
"Bones, it has four bedrooms," he pointed out.
"Right," she nodded, "one for us, one for Parker, one as a guest bedroom and another as an office."
"An office? But there's a den on the first floor," he argued.
"I thought we could each have an office," she told him.
"I don't need an office," he started to protest but she shook her head.
"If you think you're going to be leaving your paperwork scattered all over our bedroom and the rest of the house," she informed him, "you're mistaken." Booth wasn't a particularly messy person, a former Ranger wouldn't be, but he did have a tendency to leave his paperwork all over the place. So far it hadn't really been a problem since he had always been careful to not do that whenever they were at her place and when they were at his she hadn't felt it was her place to say anything. But if they were going to be living together, if they were going to get a place that was theirs, then some things should be sorted before they became a problem.
"If you have an office," she continued, "you can be as messy as you want in it and I won't say anything about it."
"That sounds good," he smiled at her for a moment. "You know," he added in a tentative tone a few moments later, "one of those two extra bedrooms would also make a nice nursery." They hadn't really discussed babies before and he thought this was as a good a time as any to bring it up. As happy as he was with the way their relationship was going, having a child with her would make his happiness complete.
"A nursery?" she repeated in a whisper.
"I know we haven't really talked about this before," he said quickly before she could say anything else. "At least not since we got together and not when it pertains to our future. I know you've had your reservations about it and I hope you know I would never presume to push you do something you're against but . . . Well, I thought maybe you would have changed your mind or might be open about the possibility of . . ."
"Booth," she tried to stop him but he didn't seem to have heard her. "Seeley!" she called out and had him closing his mouth and turning to look at her. "It's true that I've never really wanted kids; that I've never thought they'd be part of my future. But that was before you, before I fell in love with you. I'm not saying I'm ready to have a kid right now," she warned him when he grinned. "Or that I'll ever be ready. What I am saying is that for the first time in my life that option is not out of the question. I can't promise you anything but . . ."
"You don't need to promise me anything," he interrupted her with a gentle smile and a squeeze of her hand. "The only promise from you that I need, that you'll be with me no matter what, you've already given me. Everything else . . . well, everything else we'll deal with as things come up. Just knowing that you're open to the possibility of kids is enough for now. Whether we have them or not . . ." he trailed off and shook his head. "No one can know the future; even if you were sure you wanted kids, there's no guarantee we'd have them."
"That's true," she allowed.
"So," he said, "you okay with the possibility of turning one of those rooms into a nursery at some point?"
"Yes," she nodded. "I take it this means you're okay with a four bedroom house?"
"I guess," he shrugged. "But do we need one with a finished basement, a huge backyard and a pool? Don't you think that's just a tad too much? Not to mention way too expensive."
"No, I don't think it's too much," she denied. "A finished basement makes sense since buying a house with an unfinished basement would just mean that we'd have to finish it. I don't really want to deal with the hassle."
"We could look for a house without a basement," he pointed out.
"But a house with one is better," she argued. "It not only gives you storage and a separate space for a laundry but it would also provide a space for Parker to play in when the weather is bad and he can't go outside. And a big backyard would provide him a place to run and play around outside when the weather permits it; so we do need that too. As for the pool, I like swimming; it's a great sport and a proven way to reduce stress. We don't need one but I would certainly like to have one."
"All of those are good points, Bones," he conceded. "But the kind of house you're talking about is bound to be very expensive."
"So what?" she shrugged. "I can afford it."
"Yes, I know you can," he agreed. "But I can't."
"I wasn't suggesting you could," she said slowly before she tilted her head and examined him through narrowed eyes. "Are you saying that you have a problem with me being able to afford it?"
"No," he shook his head. "I don't have a problem with you having more money than me or spending it however you want."
"But?" she prompted him; she knew him well enough to know there was a 'but' coming.
"But," he repeated with an uncomfortable shrug. "I'm not entirely comfortable with you using your money to buy the house we'll be living in."
"This is about your pride, isn't it?" she asked him. "This all goes back to your alpha male tendencies and how you think you have to be provider?"
"Bones, I . . ." he started to speak but he wasn't sure what he was going to say. She was right; it was his male pride that protested the fact that if they were to buy a four bedroom house with a finished basement, a den, a big backyard and a pool, she would be contributing more than 50% of the price.
"Booth," she said seriously and firmly, not giving him a chance to say anything. "I know you're not going to make a big deal out of this. I know you wouldn't allow your pride to deprive your family of what could be the ideal house. Would you?" She paused and studied him intently before adding, "I know you know that it's not important who gives what or who has more; you know that money is not important and that one partner having more than the other doesn't mean anything . . . unless the couple themselves make it an issue. I mean, Hodgins has more money than Angela but it doesn't mean he has all the power in their relationship, does it? And there wasn't anything wrong or weird with Angela moving into his house, was there?" She paused to wait for his nod, which he grudgingly gave. "And if there's nothing wrong with Angela accepting Hodgins' money, then there can't be anything wrong with us buying the house we want – even if it means that I provide more than half the price, right?"
"No," he agreed, because what else was he going to say? She had made a perfectly logical argument and he would come out as a petty Neanderthal if he were to refute it. If he didn't see anything wrong with Angela living in Hodgins' mansion (because by no means could where they live be called only a house) or with Angela calmly accepting the fact that Hodgins had way more money than her, then he shouldn't see a problem with Brennan having more money than him or with her spending that money for their mutual benefit.
She was also right that money would only become an issue if he made it an issue because he knew she wouldn't. She didn't do what she did because of the money or the acclaim or the fame; those were just by-products of her doing what she loved and he knew she didn't find them to be particularly positive by-products. Acclaim and fame were something to be tolerated and money . . . money was another tool, something she had that she could use to make things easier or better. To her, it wasn't about power and it wasn't about control because she didn't think in those terms. If he made a big deal out of this, he would be the one making it about those things.
Was he really that insecure, that petty that he would begrudge her the right to spend her hard earned money in whatever way she chose? All because of some antiquated idea that the man should be the one to provide for the family? If it was the other way around, if he was the one with the money, he knew he would not only expect but would also insist that he be the one to pay for the house and he would be dismayed and hurt if she didn't agree. To expect anything else of himself would not only be hypocritical but it would also be an insult to her and to their relationship; it would be as good as saying that she didn't have the same right to take care of him as he did to take care of her.
From the moment he'd met her, he'd encouraged her to push past her comfort zone, to experience new things and to not be afraid of her feelings. And he had always been proud of who she was, what she'd accomplished and how much she'd managed to overcome. The last thing he had ever wanted was to limit her in any way or for her to be less than who she was. But, he realized, that was exactly what he would be doing if he objected to her buying the house because the only reason he had for doing so was his pride. It wasn't as if he would quit working and become a kept man; that would never happen.
He would always contribute to their lives together; financially, it might not be the same as what she contributed, but there was more to life than money. And to get hung up on the money, to make a big deal out of the fact that she had more than him would make him a lesser man than he wanted to be, a lesser man than she expected him to be, a lesser man than she deserved. It would also be a betrayal of the love, respect and trust that was at the core of their relationship. The bottom line was that if he couldn't swallow his pride and accept the fact that she had the same right as him to provide for their family to the best of her abilities, then he wasn't worthy of her.
"You're right, Bones," he finally told her with a small smile. "It doesn't really matter who pays how much. What matters is that we find our ideal house."
"Exactly," she nodded. She studied him for a few moments to be sure he was being truthful and not just saying what she wanted to hear. When she was satisfied, she went back to the original subject. "So, do you like this house?"
"I'm not sure," he said, slowly, looking closer at it. "The basement is finished but only has one room, aside from the laundry/storage space, right?"
"Yes," she answered.
"I think we need more than one finished room in the basement."
"Why?"
"Because," he explained, "If we do have a kid later on, what happens to my office? Or, if I keep my office, what happens to the guest bedroom? I think we need another room just to be on the safe side. And we need to make sure that the pool has a fence around it and that the house has an alarm."
"We can install those ourselves, Booth," she protested. "They don't have to be present when we buy it."
"Yeah," he agreed. "Still, I'm not sure about this one. There's something I don't quite like."
"Really?" she asked. "What?"
"I'm not sure," he said slowly. "I think it's the driveway. Too long; it'll be a bitch to clean in the winter. You know, if we're going for our dream house, we really should look for one with a two car garage and a fireplace. Oh, and it should definitely have a family room. Though, I suppose we could make one in the basement – it could be the same as Parker's play room."
"All of a sudden, you have a lot of ideas and requirements, don't you?" she tilted her head and studied him with an amused smile.
"Well," he shrugged. "If we're going to spend a nice chunk of our lives there, I might as well like the place."