"Bones, come on. Just the fact that there are thousands of restaurants in DC doesn't mean we have to try them all in one week!"
Brennan scoffed at the statement. "The stomachs of blue whales are the largest in the world and can contain nearly 200 gallons of nourishment." She laughed, clearly entertaining herself with the ridiculous thought, "Even if we were blue whales and we ate nonstop for a week we could not eat at every restaurant in all of DC."
She continued laughing, throwing her head back in her chair as Booth looked on. He stood propped against the doorway of her office. He loved when this happened. Very rarely, she would take what he said and applied science that in her head seemed absolutely absurd. She looked so beautiful and confident.
Booth's grumbling stomach interrupted his daydream.
"Bones, you know what I mean, let's just do the diner or something. Besides, Parker is coming with us and I'm not sure he'd like Ethiopian food. Especially that kimo thing you were talking about. Sounds too much like chemo to me."
"Kitmo, Booth. And the diner is fine. They just added new salads to their menu and I am eager to try them." She stood and gathered her purse and pulled her long coat on.
"Then why have we been going to all of these exotic places all week? I mean, that Indian food really gave me a run for my money." He caught her confused glance at the use of the idiom and clarified, "I spent a lot of time in the bathroom that night."
She laughed again as she passed him in the doorway, her shoulder grazing his chest. The touch sent shivers down Booth's spine. It had been weeks since they'd made up – with nearly every spare second and meal spent together. Booth tried to tell himself to just calm down, We're partners, he'd chant in his head. It didn't help.
He'd felt it since he met her; there was a spark between them that could not be denied. He got used to the feeling of her impressing him – there were so many things she knew and could do that left him in awe, yet every time they touched, he felt almost privileged. The gaining sexual tension in the air could be cut with a knife. Or a chainsaw, he thought.
They fell back into a routine, only now they were both hyper-aware of it. The laughing. His hand on the small of her back. Opening her door. Every meal. Calling to check in. It happened like this every day. Brennan found herself enamored with the idea of a routine. Their business allowed very little regularity, seeing as their jobs hinged on the unpredictability of deranged serial killers, scorned lovers, and confused sociopaths.
But this was comfortable. This was predictable. He was reliable, and everything about him backed it up.
"Dad! Tell Bones what I ate last week!"
Booth shook his head. "Why don't you finish chewing what's in your mouth and tell her yourself?"
Parker finished and exclaimed, "A WORM!"
Brennan nodded her head, not surprised by Parker's declaration. She'd heard many stories about Parker eating foreign objects, from glue to gum wrappers to stray food under restaurant tables. Probably the one where we're sitting as well, she thought.
"Tell him about how gross it is to be eating worms, Bones. How sick he'll get if he eats them." Booth his widened his eyes, pleading for her to play along. The last thing he wanted was Parker to get some sort of strange illness on top of his immunity-killing leukemia. Naturally, Bones did not catch this subtlety.
"Earthworms can be very nutritionally beneficial. They are high in protein and are generally safe to eat if prepared correctly." She took another bite, plainly not phased.
Booth tipped his head and held his palm out in front of him. "Really, Bones? You couldn't just let me win that one?"
Brennan slowly raised her eyes to meet his. "You know I don't lie to children, Booth. Besides, I believe that eating annelids is one of the prescribed solutions for hunger in desperate situations by the Army field manual. Surely you should know that, having been deployed several times." She kept her eyes on him as she took another bite; she wanted to see his reaction to her direct defiance.
Booth witnessed one corner of Brennan's mouth turn up mischievously. "I did know that. But I also know that he didn't take the proper precautions to ensure that the worm would not harm him." He paused, fork in hand.
"You soak them in water long enough…"
"…long enough to rid the body of dirt if possible. I know," Booth finished for her. He directed his attention back to the food on his plate. Brennan beamed at him, holding her gaze until the silence was broken by Parker.
"Dad," he giggled, "I think Bones wants to say something to you. She's staring." Brennan snapped her eyes away from Booth and took a sudden interest to the salad before her. Her cheeks burned and she was sure they were tinged similarly to the tomatoes on her plate.
"Oh, is that so, Bones? Have something to say because I finally know something you know?" He flashed a trademark smile, lopsided and cocky.
"No," she stated matter-of-factly, "I was simply impressed by your knowledge. So arrest me."
An image flashed through Booth's head. Certainly not an image he'd like his young son to partake in. Now, both blushing, Booth asked, "Arrest you? Wh- why would I do that, Bones?"
"Well the way you make it sound, it is a crime to show interest in what you know. Isn't that how the joke goes?"
"Not the way I've heard it." He grinned, looking at her again, waiting for her icy blues to return the favor. She glanced up, catching his eyes. Booth suddenly felt the urge to grab her hand – little did he know she would have welcomed the touch.
"You know, guys, if you wanted to be alone, you probably shouldn't have brought Parker with you." Sweets sat down in the empty seat next to Brennan at the table. His grin stretched wide, he appeared more like a circus sideshow than a FBI psychologist.
Booth pulled his elbows off the table quickly and kept them folded to his chest as he leaned back in his seat. "Well if I wanted time alone with Bones…" he paused just long enough to leave doubt in everyone's minds, "… I wouldn't have invited you either, Sweets."
"No need to get defensive, Agent Booth. I was stopping by to pick up lunch and saw Parker was here – I need gift ideas for his birthday." Sweets held a hand out to Parker, which was met with an animated high five.
Booth was less than enthused at this. Self-admittedly, Booth was terrible when it came to purchasing gifts – when it came to procrastinating at least. Most of Parker's Christmas presents went over royally and were Parker's favorites, much to Rebecca's dismay. However, they were typically purchased the day before or day of. The thought of asking Parker what he would like for his birthday seemed odd – firstly because Booth always got something Parker liked, no doubt about it. Secondly, because Booth could not remember a time when his own father asked him what he'd like. Thirdly, Sweets had never given Parker a birthday gift.
"Oh, I definitely want a stethoscope. I'm gonna listen to heartbeats and open safes like in the movies." Booth's death glare on Sweets shifted to confusion as he looked to his son. The safe-cracking was no surprise. Booth found out only a week prior that Parker guessed the passcode to the parental controls for TV. 22705. Not my most creative, he thought.
"Does that mean you're coming to my party, Doctor Sweets?"
Sweets opened his mouth slightly to answer, only to be interrupted. "Party? What party, Parker?" As if Booth's 'Dad-Esteem' wasn't low enough, the prospect of his son's birthday party he hadn't even been invited to didn't help much.
"The one Uncle Ed said we were going to have. Come on, Dad!" For reasons unbeknownst to Booth, Parker had taken to calling Edwin Booth 'Uncle.' Brennan suggested that the confusion of having a great-grandfather he'd referred to as his grandfather and then mysteriously having the real one show up caused the moniker. Seems logical enough.
"Why am I just hearing about this?" Booth was beginning to get defensive.
"Booth, we were invited by e-mail. It may just be in your spam folder. Your father and I are taking care of everything. We'll set it up in my apartment since there is more sufficient space than your place. Rebecca is even coming with Brent when she brings Parker."
While privately, Booth would divulge that he loved the idea of Brennan essentially playing Mommy to his son, it was still a little unsettling to him that he was the last to know about the party. This, however, was not the time and place to be discussing it. After all, there are two children present.
Booth took Parker, after receiving a phone call from a somewhat-irritated Rebecca about time and responsibility, leaving Brennan and Sweets at the Diner finishing their meals. The chat had been innocuous thus far, revolving mostly around their differences in opinion related to psychological theories.
Sweets held a question in his back pocket, though. He knew that he was more likely to get a straight answer from Brennan when Booth was not there, but did not want to push, knowing that any undue pressure on Brennan would only cause her to retreat further into introversion.
His restlessness won out.
"Dr. Brennan, what do you think about Agent Booth's father?"
Brennan hadn't really stopped to consider what her feelings were about Booth's father. In stories, he was portrayed to be a heartless monster, but from all accounts in person, he was a kind and gentle man. His remorseful demeanor was reminiscent of someone else she knew. Booth.
"I think he has taken great strides in becoming someone that Booth can trust again. Like my father and I." She had very little reservations at this point talking to Sweets about Booth's father because she knew Sweets had discussed it with Booth himself.
"I find Booth's father to be a rather difficult enigma. I find that I only run into this sort of problem when profiling suspects when I am being lied to. Or when I was writing my book on your relationship with Booth." Sweets immediately sensed that he'd worded this thought incorrectly. His presumption was soon affirmed.
"You think Booth and I are lying to you? There is no logical sense in feeding you fallacies, Dr. Sweets. I assure you, if I didn't want to answer a question truthfully, I would simply ignore you."
Sweets backpedaled. "It is not so much lying, Dr. Brennan. Like in the case of my book, I think that key details are being left out, for whatever reason – be it negative or positive. It is like your first case, for instance." He smiled as he mentioned it, only to be met by an enthused eye roll and scowl from Brennan.
"The details of your first case with Booth that you insisted were miniscule and forgettable were in fact the most glaring and apparent details to me. Often it is a difference in perception that determines why two people cannot agree." He sat back, feeling satisfied with himself.
"While I concur our perceptions are very different, I disagree that there is something being left out. Booth has done all he can to make this transition easy on himself and his family, and trusts that you will do the same in counseling him."
Sweets' eyes narrowed. "I find it interesting that you use the word transition. Why do you phrase it that way?"
Brennan, annoyed but determined to make her point known, answered, "Because this is a time of flux for Booth. For the majority of his life, his father was Hank. Parker's grandfather was Hank. Now he is trying to fit the person that has been absent – yet always lingering in his mind – back into daily life. Anthropologically speaking, it is a sort of prodigal son story, only with a father."
Sweets let her words sink in. "I think you're right, Dr. Brennan. "
Brennan looked shocked. There were very few conversations between the two of them that concluded with the other admitting the other to be correct.
"I think Booth is making the most of his father being around again, and it shows great strides on his part to assimilate him into his life without any major complications. It's awesome really. Besides, seeing the two of you together lately makes me think that there is so much more going on in your minds. Like today, the two of you looking at each other at the table. I mean, in the years I've known you I've seen some pretty heavy eye contact, but Agent Booth has never been so brazen about it in public before. Even after..." he cut himself off, worried he'd ventured too far in his exhilaration.
Brennan hardly noticed. She felt her metaphorical heart swell. Despite the fact that she gave little weight to Sweets' non-scientific opinion of things, it was nonetheless encouraging to know that he was supportive and believed Booth was going to be happy. She couldn't help but feel like something great was happening between them, and for once, she could not foresee an impending storm.
AN: I will just say this - I am sorry about the long long hiatus in between chapters. I have no excuse (as per uzhe) and am embarrassed it took me this long. Another thing, because of the unique turn that this story took from the way I originally planned it (also giving the story at least 17 more chapters than I originally intended at this point) you can expect that there will only be 3 or 4 more chapters. I am working on another idea right now that involves HEAVY READER INPUT (!) and am trying to get ahead on the chapters so that I do not suck as much as I did with PitP.
Thank you all again for your readership despite my obvious flaws. You are all wonderful, I'd love to hear from you here or on tumblr! (Check my profile for the info!)
love. -zee