I attempted to post this last night and it didn't work so I'm reposting it. Here are my orginal notes:

So I watched the season four finale again and came up with something new based on the spoilers that i've seen so far. It's set approximately 6 episodes into season five and is from Brennan's point of veiw.

I swear i have nothing against suspenders i just like the belt better.

Guess what?........ I still don't own the show (although my birthday is coming up) and therefore only borrow the characters for my own entertainment and then I share with you.


Belt Buckle

We've been back on the job for six weeks now, it's been twelve weeks since he woke up in the hospital and asked me who I was. The initial shock of not being remembered was stunning to me; I didn't know what to do other than just release the breath that I'd been holding since he told me he was seeing Stewie in shock. I'd come to a realization while he was in that coma and he didn't remember me, I couldn't believe I'd missed my shot that I'd missed something so basic for so long. But I had and I panicked thinking that my opportunity was gone forever.

Moments later, he called me Bones and I realized he knew who I was and a bubble of hope grew in my chest, maybe just maybe I hadn't completely missed my opportunity. It took a few days to figure out exactly the source of confusion that led him to ask that heart-wrenching question when he finally opened his eyes. He'd had a rather bizarre dream where we were the married owners of a nightclub and when he woke, he couldn't figure out if I was his wife or his partner initially.

I'd stayed with him until they'd released him to go home, and he told me I should go do something that I enjoy. That he couldn't bear watching me sit around watching him recover, he wanted me to go out and do something that I enjoy and didn't necessarily get the chance to do very often because of our work. We argued about it for a few days before I realized that he wasn't going to give up and he would be happy if I went to out on a dig, so I flew to Guatemala for 4 weeks to help identify victims of mass graves.

It was a strenuous four weeks, returning to my original love as a forensic anthropologist. I still enjoyed it but it wasn't the same as working with Booth, I didn't get the same satisfaction out of it anymore, and I kept wishing that he was there with me. I would call him at least twice a week and send him an email nearly every day. I still missed talking to him face to face but it felt so good to hear him on the other end of a phone line. To listen to him smile, even though you can't hear a smile, as he told me a story about Parker always brought a smile to my face.

Once I came back we went to work, starting with the mass grave under a fountain found by Angela's psychic. Hodgins had been so ecstatic about us a working together again on that first case, I think he was glad to know that if we survived a brain tumor and coma as a group then we would survive anything.

The thing that there was something niggling my brain that Booth wasn't the same Booth that we'd worked with the last four years. For the most part he was the same sure, but there was something that I just couldn't put my finger on that was different. There were outward manifestations of it, and that was what clued me into the differences. He was wearing black socks, black, a black tie, plain black, these goofy looking sunglasses that I'd never seen before. The most disturbing part was he wasn't wearing the belt buckle; the one I'd teased him about for years but was so innately him, it bothered me that he was without it. Instead, he was wearing suspenders, black ones.

The first time he came into work and I saw the suspenders I'd had the hardest time suppressing the urge to laugh at him. While they were flashy in their own way, they were just not a Booth thing; they reminded me of old men sitting on their porch not Booth. It was those suspenders that clued me into the fact that the realization I made while he was out was going to have to wait until he was completely back, or if this was the new Booth, I figured out my own emotions concerning him now as opposed to what he was before.

I knew that I could adapt or wait until things were back to where I was comfortable with them again; I'd already taken four years to figure it out the first time it surely wouldn't take nearly as long the second time. But throughout that first case, the little changes in his appearance really bothered me. When I saw the socks for the first time I asked where his crazy ones were, he gave me this confused look and then told me that both them and the crazy ties were inappropriate for his line of work. Something I never thought I'd hear from him. I didn't even know where to begin with the sunglasses they were just horrendous.

So through that first case I wondered if he was ever going to be the same as he was before or if I would have to permanently adjust to this new slightly more serious and, silly at the same time Booth, or if I could just wait for my Booth to come back.

Then he said those three words to me and I looked at him with panic on my face. This wasn't the Booth that I love this was a bizarre ghost of him and I couldn't possibly accept those words from this version while I was waiting for the other version to come back. He must of read my face because he quickly put a qualifier on it, "…in an atta girl kinda of way" not that I have any idea what that is supposed to mean.

We didn't hang out that weekend, mostly because I was freaking out and avoiding him, and because I had to work on my book, I'd neglected it for way too long. But on Monday morning when he picked me up at the lab for our next case he'd gone back to his traditional sunglasses, they looked so much better on him. He was still wearing black suspenders, socks and a tie. I asked him about the switch back and he told me he didn't know what he'd been thinking that the ones that he'd been wearing were awful and that those were so much better for him. I smiled, he was going to come back in one piece it was just taking a little longer than I'd hoped he asked why I was smiling and I told him that it was a beautiful day despite the fact that it was raining.

Over the next few weeks, the socks went between black and crazy before settling into their typical pre-coma pattern of creativity lurking beneath his pant legs. Once the socks were back to normal, the ties started to go back to normal. Eventually he was wearing the colorful ones I loved, including the ones I'd gotten him for Christmas last year. But those stupid suspenders were still there, in boring black, day after day. And what was worse was that I was getting used to them.

We've come to the first real hurdle we've had to face since he woke up today; it's the Gravedigger's trial. He had Parker this weekend so I drove myself to the courthouse, trying to settle my nerves the entire time. I've never been more than an expert witness in court, and now I'm going to testify about my own experience as the captive and as the rescuer. I'm going to have to re-live all of those moments, I know he is going to too, but I can't selfishly hope that my Booth would be back that this suspender-wearing version would go away and my cocky belt buckle wearing partner would come striding through the doors to the courtroom.

The team is all standing next to the bar discussing the case proceedings with Caroline, but I couldn't bring myself to join in. So I'm standing just a little separate from the group watching the doors to the courtroom swing open and closed as people come and go, but he hasn't come through the doors yet and I'm getting a little nervous. There's less than a minute left before court is due to convene and he's not here yet. I give up figuring that he'll be here by the time we reconvene after lunch that he must have been tied up with Parker somehow. But I still wish he was here, and at this point, any Booth would be fine, even one that didn't remember me, but I really want my Booth. I turn and tell Caroline that Booth isn't here yet but he would be later, she just nods not asking how I know.

I started to take my seat when I feel a hand on the small of my back and a whisper in my ear, "Sorry, I'm late Bones. I didn't mean to make you worry." I turned and there he is standing right next to me in a flashy tie, with a small smile on his face. He must have realized how much I needed a hug in that moment because he pulled me to him and I let my arms wrap around his back under his suit jacket.

I relished for a moment in the solid warmth is body radiated, and the all encompassing sent that was Booth before I realized something: there were no suspenders. I pulled back as the bailiff entered the room and looked at his waist and there it was, the red and white buckle with a rooster and the word cocky splashed across it. He gave me a questioning look but the bailiff called the court to order and the judge entered, so he never asked me a question.

After the the judge told us to take our seats, I kissed his cheek and told him that I was glad he was back. It only really earned me another puzzled looked as we sat and the opening statements began, he laced his fingers with mine giving a reassuring squeeze, as Caroline depicted my experience and then his for the court. I looked down at our joint hands and realized that one day soon, I could tell him what I learned while he was in a coma but for now we would just have to survive this trial.


Once again I promise I have nothing against suspenders, in fact i think they're amazing, i just don't think they're Booth.

Please please pretty please tell me what you thought. I haven't gotten many reviews lately and I was wondering if I should try and change things up but in order to do that I need to know it's necessary.

On a different note: Less than a week until the premere! I can't believe it.

Alright, please review and have a good weekend.

Babyrose