Thanks for hanging in there with me, people. Please review. It makes Musie happy.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Four days before the wedding, Angela had a meltdown. Everyone had been halfway expecting it, with poor Hodgins running himself ragged over the last week to put out fires and avert disaster in the nick of time. He didn't make it on this one. In fact, he was the cause of this one. They had been lying in bed after making love with her head on his chest and him running his fingers through her hair when he had laughingly remarked that he would be glad when this whole mess was over with. He had looked down at her in concern when he felt her stiffen in his arms. His concern had turned to open admiration as she rose from the bed, a goddess in his eyes. The admiration morphed into confusion then shock as his sweet, little bride to be transformed into Bridezilla before his very eyes. He wouldn't have been more astonished if Godzilla had suddenly appeared in his bedroom and shook his hand. By the time she swept out of the room screaming that the wedding was off, Hodgins was speechless. He knew better than to run after her, she had threatened him with bodily harm if he did. Besides, he knew where she was going. Should he warn them they had incoming? Nah, let them sleep until hurricane Angela hit port.
What the hell had just happened? He had deduced rather quickly from all the screeching that Angela had taken offense at his, admittedly, thoughtless remark. His attempts to placate her had been less than successful with the screeching getting louder every time he tried to explain. Then she had added throwing things to her repertoire. And she was a damn good shot, he thought rubbing his shoulder and looking sadly at the broken statue littering the floor. What the hell was he going to do? They were getting married in four days.
He wouldn't admit it under torture, but he had wanted for them to have a very private ceremony not the circus it had turned into because that's what Angela wanted. He had to squirm a little bit when he thought about his motives for wanting a small ceremony, but he admitted to himself that he didn't want a repeat of embarrassment if the second wedding didn't take place. He'd actually started having nightmares about just that in the last couple of weeks. Not that he had any doubts about them being together for the rest of their lives. He didn't. He just thought that a lot of people put too much emphasis on the wedding and not nearly enough on the marriage. The wedding was only a step you took to get where you wanted to be, in a marriage. Not that sharing these sentiments with the raging tyrant that had just stomped out of here would get him anywhere. What the hell was he going to do? Right now he was going to flop back on the bed and give Bridezilla time to get to Brennan's before he called and woke them up, he decided.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Booth wasn't sure what woke him until he heard the snick of the latch catching as the front door closed. Brennan was in his arms, so they had an intruder in the apartment. He put his hand over her mouth and quickly shook her awake. Her eyes went wide when she noticed his hand over her mouth but they both heard the intruder bump into something in the living room and she quickly caught on. He started to roll out of bed on his side and had to reach out to grab her and pull her back down as she did the same thing. He shook his head and indicated that she was to stay put with hand gestures and eye movements. Her eyes narrowed at him, but she finally nodded. He rolled out of bed, grabbed his gun from the nightstand and crept silently toward the door. The bedroom door was already open. He peered around the edge of the doorframe and saw a shadowy shape slowly feeling its way down the hall. Extending the gun at shoulder level with one arm, he smoothly stepped into the hall and reached for the light switch with the other hand.
"Freeze! FBI." The squeal let him know it was Angela before he flipped the light switch. He lowered his gun. "Angela, what the hell are you doing breaking into our apartment at 2:00 in the morning?" He verified the time by looking at his watch. Angela went quickly from looking frightened of having a gun pointed at her to leaning against the wall with her arms across her chest grinning at him.
"It's not breaking and entering if you have a key, Booth." She held up aforementioned key. "And what do you mean our apartment? You live here now?" Before Booth could open that can of worms, Brennan's head popped out the bedroom door, peering sleepily toward Angela.
"Ange, what's wrong? What are you doing here?" Angela's face fell at the sight of her friend's concerned face.
"Jack and I had a fight." Brennan nodded but didn't look that concerned. After all, even she thought that Angela had been a little difficult lately. "I called off the wedding." There was the proper level of concern that Angela was looking for. Brennan walked toward her best friend and took her arm, leading her to the living room and seating them both.
"Ange, what happened?" Booth had left his phone on the kitchen counter and it began to buzz. Brennan ignored it and concentrated her attention on Angela. She put her hand on Angela's forearm and gave it a supportive pat. Angela was chewing on her lower lip and avoiding Brennan's eyes, so Brennan sat back and waited. Booth's phone started buzzing but he loped into the room and grabbed it before Brennan could yell for him. Looking at the caller ID, he mouthed "Hodgins" toward Brennan and headed down the hall.
"What the hell did you do, Jack?" Booth didn't bother with a greeting, he just got straight to the point.
"Yes, I know what a Bridezilla is." He winced as he heard two female voices raised behind him.
"We can hear you, Booth," Brennan called.
"Yeah, and you can tell Hodgins that I AM NOT A FREAKING BRIDEZILLA!" Angela practically screamed. Covering the mouthpiece, Booth turned back to the women.
"Yeah, um, sorry, Ange," he apologized with a rueful grin and a shrug, turning back toward the bedroom. He noticed that Brennan neither confirmed nor denied Angela's statement and knew that Angela's behavior was way out of control for Brennan not to immediately jump to her defense. The squawking coming from his phone reminded him that Jack was waiting.
"Yeah, sorry, I'm back."
"Hey, man, don't yell at me. I'm not the one that called her Bridezilla." The bedroom door closing shut off the rest of his words. Brennan tied to hide a smile but Angela caught it and went into freak out mode.
"You think this is funny?" she asked incredulously. Brennan immediately wiped the smile from her face and shook her head. Angela eyed her suspiciously. "Do you think that I'm Bridezilla, Bren?" Brennan took her hand and patted it.
"Ange, I really don't have an adequate basis of comparison, so I..," Recognizing that super freak out mode was fast approaching, she quickly changed her answer. "No, Angela, of course, I don't think you're Godzilla." Angela rolled her eyes and laughed, although Brennan had no idea why, but super freak out was successfully averted so she was happy. "Ange, do you want to talk about what happened with Jack?" Angela thought about it a minute, then shook her head.
"Not yet. I think maybe I freaked out and I really need to think about things. We'll talk in the morning, Ok? Can I take the spare room?"
"Of course, Ange. Let me know if you need anything or want to talk before morning." Angela hugged Brennan tightly and turned toward the spare room, then spun back.
"Oh, and Bren, we will be chatting about Booth living here now, too," she warned. Brennan nodded and went into her room feeling like a scolded child. Booth was still on the phone with Hodgins, propped up against the headboard on top of the covers. Brennan's interest was immediately drawn to his bare chest as she crawled back into bed. Booth grinned at her obvious interest, but his best friend had just, apparently, been dumped and needed to vent. He gave Brennan a helpless look and a charm smile as she scooted over and snuggled against him. She then took an interest in his conversation with Hodgins.
She poked Booth in the side and demanded, "What did he do to Angela?" Booth was very surprised that the girls hadn't discussed things but told her since he already knew. Brennan gasped in shock. "Is he stupid?" Even she knew better than to say something like that with Bridezilla, er, Angela in the room. Booth replied at the same time that she heard a shouted response from Hodgins.
"Apparently."
"NO!" Having some information to consider, Brennan now lost interest in Booth's conversation and lay back down. Within minutes, she was yawning and her eyelids began to droop. Booth leaned over to give her a goodnight kiss that got a little carried away until they both heard Hodgins shouting from the phone that Booth had dropped the moment Brennan's arms wrapped around his neck.
"Booth, please tell me that you two are not making out while I'm telling you about my fiancé dumping me. Dude, that is just wrong. Talk about adding insult to injury." With a sigh of regret, Booth dropped a quick kiss on her lips and pulled away, grabbing the phone and heading for the living room so he didn't disturb her while he listened to whatever Hodgins needed to say. Sometimes being a best friend sucked. Especially when their fiancé was Bridezilla.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"Bren." Brennan came awake to someone shaking her shoulder lightly and whispering her name. She blinked one eye open sleepily and saw Angela bending over her, obviously trying not to wake Booth who was pressed against Brennan's back with his arms wrapped tightly around her.
"Ange, what's wrong?" Angela frowned as she noticed that she had woken Booth and he was glaring up at her. What was his problem? She's the one whose life was in ruins.
"Go back to sleep, Booth. It's only 5:30," Both occupants of the bed groaned at this information. "I need to talk to you, Bren." Brennan stifled a yawn and nodded. Angela turned to leave the room.
"Can't it wait, Ange? It's too early to get up and I can't sleep without Bones." That was very much the wrong thing to say, as Angela's mood obviously hadn't improved over the last few hours. She whirled around and marched back over to the bed, glaring down at him.
"No, Booth, it can't wait, and you're just going to have to learn to share your toys like a good little boy. I need Bren right now, so get over it." She marched out of the room. Booth was really sorry about Hodgins and Angela but, damn, a man shouldn't be harassed in his own bedroom. Unless he was being harassed by the woman sharing the bed, of course. Bones could order him around in the bedroom any time but it was just creepy for Angela to boss him around in there. Brennan rolled over to face him.
"Good morning," she whispered, kissing him lightly on the lips. When he tried to deepen the kiss, she pulled back. "Booth, I have to get up. Ange needs me." Sighing, he got one more quick peck and released his hold on her. She scrambled out of bed and headed for the door. She was back in less than 5 minutes, dressing quickly, telling him that she and Angela had to go somewhere and she would be busy all morning but the two of them could probably meet him for lunch. He shuddered at the thought. He loved Angela like a little sister, but he was pretty sure that he would be avoiding his real sister (if he had one) like the plague if she had Angela's current attitude.
"No, Baby, that's ok. You just do what you need to with little Miss Sunshine today and I'll see you tonight." She stopped in her tracks and looked at him with a frown.
"What did you call her?" Wow. Angela must be contagious because he hadn't seen snarky Bones in quite some time now.
"Nothing, Baby. I was just kidding." She looked at him suspiciously, then nodded and left the room. Perfect. Not even out of bed yet and he'd already managed to piss off two women. He just hoped his day got better and not worse.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Although it wasn't quite six am when Angela and Brennan arrived at their destinations, the door opened immediately and they were warmly ushered inside. Angela immediately threw herself into wide open arms and began to sob. The Maestro patted her back and let her cry. He led her to the sofa, seated them both and sat quietly with her sobbing on his shoulder until her tears began to dry up.
Angela and Brennan called him the Maestro, but his real name was Christopher Murphy. He was from a small mid western town and had grown up during a time when men who danced or taught ballet had automatically been labeled as homosexual. Not that the label really bothered him. He wasn't, he just loved everything about ballet.
He had run away from and abusive home at the age of 15 and found himself in New York City. He had been awed and terrified by the sounds and sights of the city and living on the streets had been difficult and dangerous. Late one night, ousted from his usual sleeping place by a group of thugs, he had been wandering the streets, looking for a safe, warm place to bed down for the night, when he had heard classical music drifting through a propped open door. Oh, he'd had no idea then that it was classical music and he'd never seen ballet. But he saw it that night, wandering into the practice room at Juliard and he was enchanted with the grace and beauty of the dance, fascinated with the ease the dancers seemed to hold the impossible looking poses. He stood at the back of the auditorium, mesmerized until an older man had approached him. To Chris' surprise, the guy had made casual conversation and not tried to throw him out. Chris had stayed until they closed down the practice stage and left the building. But he couldn't stay away. He dreamed about ballet, not about dancing it, but about being involved in the creation of those beautiful stories in some way. He went back to the practice stage every night.
After the first week, the door was never propped open again, but the man who had approached him the first night causally asked Chris if he was coming by the next night and at what time. When Chris arrived, he was waiting to let him in, and so it continued. After that first week, Lucas (the man he met that first night) always made sure there was nutritious food waiting when Chris arrived and when it started getting cold, he urged him to go to one of the shelters available in the city, but Chris was afraid that if he did that he would be sent home and he was never going back there.
So, he stayed on the street in the deadly cold of a New York winter and he got sick. He continued his nightly visits to Juliard where warm, new clothing seemed to magically appear. Lucas always said that a visitor to the school had left the items and wouldn't be returning for them, but Chris knew better and he was grateful. Lucas was concerned when Chris developed a persistent cough and offered to get the staff physician to take a look at him, but Chris refused because he had an irrational fear of doctors.
One night, he was so tired that he could barely put one foot in front of the other and his chest hurt with each breath. Lucas took one look at him and immediately called the staff physician who diagnosed him with pneumonia. Chris had insisted that he was fine and tried to leave but had collapsed before he could get to the door. He had awoken two days later in bed in one of the currently empty staff rooms provided by the school. Lucas was sitting at his bedside and when Chris weakly insisted that he should leave the school, Lucas bluntly told him that if he went back out on the streets right now, he would be dead within the week. He said that he had made arrangements for Chris to stay at the school at least until he was well. Chris was understandably wary of the offer, but he was too tired and sick to leave on his own, so he stayed.
Actually, he never left. He was young and strong and recovered quickly. Lucas dropped by several times a day to see him and brought him books on a myriad of subjects to occupy his time. Chris found himself reading about everything from art to Greek mythology and his brain soaked up all this information like a sponge. He and Lucas began to have discussions every evening about whatever Chris had read that day and soon other instructors began coming to visit a swiftly recovering Chris, finding him bright and charming. He became a class project for the instructors who banded together and came up with a plan to save this boy from a life on the streets.
They went to the administrator of the school and demanded that he offer Chris a job with room and board. The administrator scoffed at the idea of inviting a street kid into the hallowed halls of their institution until he glanced around and knew he would have a mutiny on his hands if he didn't do as requested. So, Chris officially became an employee of Juliard. It was a job in name only. His days were strictly scheduled and he spent time with many different people learning what they had to teach him. And the knowledge and life experiences that these people held as a whole was indescribable. They told Chris that he could do whatever he chose with his life so many times that he finally began to believe them and then he made his choice. Ballet.
He began to study under Lucas and just learned then that he was one of the best ballet teachers in the world. Chris spent countless hours with Lucas, watching and memorizing his every move. He spent many hours just observing the dancers and soon was able to tell after watching someone dance only once whether they would ever make it professionally. Lucas called him a natural and taught him everything he knew. Lucas had been killed in a mugging four years later and there was never any question of who would take his place. Even after all these years, Chris thought of Lucas often and missed him every time he did. Chris' father might have given him life but Lucas had made him the man he was today. A man with the closest thing he would ever have to daughters sitting in his living room waiting for him to help them, he reminded himself with a sigh. Turning to Angela, he saw that she had dried her tears and was staring morosely at her loosely clasped hands in her lap.
"So, Angela, what did this man do to make you angry enough to call off the wedding?"
"He said that he would be glad when this whole mess was over." She answered in a monotone and the Maestro winced. Was the guy stupid? Maybe not the best question to ask. Then again, maybe it was the perfect question to get to what was really bothering her.
"Is he stupid?" Angela shrugged but Brennan gave a verbal response.
"Apparently." The Maestro smothered a laugh and patted Angela's shoulder.
"Ah, well then, my dear, you obviously did the right thing." Her head jerked up, eyes wide and startled.
"What?"
"Angela, you can't possibly marry a stupid man," he gave an exaggerated shudder. Brennan was giving him a narrow eyed stare that said she was very disappointed in the way he was handling this. He turned his head and winked at her before turning back to Angela. "And what if you had stupid children?" shudder, "Angela, you would be bored out of your mind. Better that you just stay alone than marry someone like that." Angela looked at him speculatively for several moments, then dropped her eyes back to her hands.
"Jack's not stupid," she whispered. The Maestro raised a brow.
"Really? Then why did he say something like that?" She was twisting her fingers together now.
"He didn't mean it like that. I overreacted." She still didn't look up and Brennan leaned forward to get her attention.
"Why, Ange.?" She asked earnestly. Angela lifted her eyes.
"I'm scared, Bren." Brennan could see the fear in her best friends eyes and struggled to understand.
"Of what, Ange?" Brennan came over to the sofa, seated herself beside Angela and took her hand.
"What if it doesn't work out, Bren? We already blew it once, maybe we won't be any better at things this time around." She looked into Angela's eyes and the anguish she saw there was way out of proportion for the concerns she had just expressed.
"Ange, what is this really about?" Brennan's voice was pleading and she held Angela's gaze.
"What if I'm just too damaged to ever make anyone happy, Bren? What if we both are?" Angela's whispered question had Brennan's eyes widening in shock. It was a legitimate concern, her rational brain told her but her heart cried out, No, that can't be true. She brushed the hair back from Angela's face and gave her a sad smile.
"I don't know, Ange. Maybe we are damaged beyond repair, but we'll never know whether we can be happy unless we try. Hodgins loves you, Ange. Do you love him?" Angela nodded without hesitation. The Maestro decided he'd been silent long enough.
"Then that's all that really matters, Angela," he took her free hand in his. "As for you two being damaged beyond repair, that is ridiculous," both women started at his firm tone. He held out his free hand and Brennan took it. "Even when you two were just girls, you had strength, courage and tenacity. Yes, terrible things happened to you both, things that you will never forget, but those things didn't break you, they just made you stronger. Look at yourselves and tell me what you see." Brennan and Angela gave each other puzzled glances and Angela answered first.
"I see Bren." The Maestro smiled.
"I see a beautiful, young, successful, world renowned Forensic Anthropologist and Bestselling author who is happier than I have ever seen her. Temperence, you give a voice to the dead. You use your expertise to give families back their loved ones, to gain justice for the wronged. What could possibly be more noble than that? As much as you loved dancing and as spectacular as you were at it, ask yourself if you would have ever found it as fulfilling as you do the life you have now." Brennan stared at him, blinking rapidly, her mind processing what he had just said. He raised a brow and jerked his head toward Angela reminding Brennan that she had been assigned a task.
"I see Ange." The Maestro gave her hand an approving squeeze.
"I see a beautiful, young, successful woman with boundless enthuasiasm for life. Angela, you create beauty from nothing. You take paints and shapeless lumps of clay and make something beautiful, something that brightens this world and everyone who is lucky enough to see your work. You also use your skills in Brennan's quest for justice. What could be more worthy than that? When I look at the two of you together I see two young girls that clung to each other for support and love as every adult in your life either abandoned or betrayed you, but with every blow, you both got up, brushed yourselves off and moved on. You may be dented but you're certainly not broken. You have both become amazing women that I am honored to call friends and you can be happy, Angela, if you'll just let yourself. It's up to you." For just a moment after the Maestro stopped speaking, there was such a look of hope and joy on Angela's face that Brennan took heart. Then her face fell and she buried it in her hands, groaning. Brennan panicked.
"Ange, what is it?" she asked urgently. Angela's voice was muffled.
"Oh, Bren, Hodgins will never forgive me." Brennan snorted and Angela's head jerked up.
"Of course, he'll forgive you, Ange. He loves you." Angela shook her head again.
"I said some awful things to him last night, Bren." Her eyes widened and she gasped, "Oh, God, I threw things at him last night, Bren." Brennan's eyes widened, but the Maestro just laughed and patted Angela's shoulder.
"Then it sounds like you have some apologies to make, my dear." Angela turned hopeful eyes to him.
"Could it really be that easy?"
"Love is never easy, Angela. But, it is always worth it." Angela thought about his words, then hugged him tightly. She grabbed Brennan's arm and dragged her up, pulling her toward the door.
"Come on, Bren. I have to find Jack. I am getting married in four days, you know." Brennan threw the Maestro a smile and a wave over her shoulder and followed Angela out the door.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Booth had a crappy day at work. He was in one meeting after another so bored that he actually wished he was having lunch with Brennan and Angela. He was very much looking forward to getting home and curling up with Brennan for a lazy night at home, but he kissed that hope goodbye when she called and told him that she had something to take care of and wouldn't be home until late. She told him that their therapist was able to convince Angela to talk to Hodgins and Booth was glad for their friends' sakes but he was really beginning to hate this miracle worker especially when Brennan had that special note of admiration in her voice when speaking of him. He was lying on the couch absently watching a baseball game on TV when she bustled in just before ten.
"Hi." She discarded her purse and headed for the kitchen. He rolled off the couch and followed her.
"Hey. How did it go with Angela."
"I don't know. I haven't seen her since this morning. I assume it went fine or she would have called me." Her head was in the fridge, muffling her words. What? He had just assumed that when she said a friend asked her for a favor that she was with Angela. He leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest.
"So where were you tonight?" It wasn't that he didn't trust her, he trusted her implicitly. He was just curious.
"The Maestro asked me to help him out with something tonight, so I did." Her head was buried in the fridge and he missed the name of the friend.
"Who?" She pulled her head and a bottle of juice out of the fridge and smiled at him as she reached for a glass.
"Our therapist, Booth." Booth stiffened. Oh, hell, no. First this guy took over his job of getting Bones in touch with her feelings and now, she was calling him a friend and spending her evenings with her therapist instead of him. NO.
"What?" Booth thought his tone was quite reasonable under the circumstances. Brennan's look told him she did not agree.
"Booth, what in the world is wrong with you? I told you that I was helping out a friend." Her tone was a little strained.
"Yeah, but I thought it was Angela, not him." There was a wealth of disgust in Booth's voice as he practically spat out the word him.
"What? Booth, what could you possibly have against him? You've never even met the man." She was incredulous. This behavior was very unlike Booth. Booth tried to clamp down on his emotions, but all the jealousy and insecurity that he had been feeling for months, ever since she started changing because of someone else and not him, bubbled to the surface.
"Oh. I don't know, Bones, maybe because Mr. Perfect seems to be taking over my place in your life." Her head jerked back as if he had struck her.
"What?" she gasped. "Booth, are you jealous?"
"Yeah, Bones, eaten up with it." He had stalked over to where she was standing and got into her personal space, leaning down until they were nose to nose.
"But, why?" She was very confused, he could see it in her eyes and he suddenly deflated at the sight. She didn't deserve anger or accusations, but she did deserve honesty. With a sigh, he slipped his arms around her waist and leaned his forehead against hers.
"Because he got you to open up in a few weeks in a way that I couldn't do in years, Bones. What if he "helps" you so much that you don't need me anymore? I would die of a broken heart if that ever happened. So, yeah, I'm jealous of the guy." This was her fault, Brennan decided. She hadn't deliberately hidden things from Booth, she just hadn't revealed all her secrets, but it was time to do that now. She hated that Booth would, even for one second, think that he hadn't helped her or that she would ever not need him. That just wasn't possible, she knew. Now, she needed to convince him of that. She tenderly cupped his face in her hands and gave him a luminous smile.
"Seeley Booth, I love you. I will always need you in my life. I'm sorry that I didn't notice that something was bothering you, but, Booth, I'm still relearning and you need to talk to me when something is on your mind." She was right, Booth knew. He should have said something a long time ago instead of letting things build to the point where he blew over something minor. She pulled his head down and kissed him tenderly then pulled back, taking his hand to lead him out of the kitchen. He was surprised when, instead of heading toward the bedroom, she turned toward the front door and grabbed her keys, releasing his hand.
"Put your shoes on, Booth. I need to show you something."
"But, Bones, it's late. Can't it wait until tomorrow?" She shook her head decisively and gave him a pleading look.
"Please, Booth. It's important." He put on his shoes and followed her out the door. She refused to tell him where they were going and he had to wait until they pulled up outside a commercial building in one of the better sections of town 20 minutes later. The building was a large two story that appeared to have been some sort of store at some point. Booth's eyes widened as he took in the lettering on large plate glass window in front. He turned to Brennan with his eyes full of questions.
"Come inside." She got out of the car and headed for the lighted front door just as a little girl about 5 barreled through the door and ran into Brennan. Brennan put her hands on the little girl's shoulders to steady her and then leaned down for a hug when she lifted her arms. It was obvious that they knew each other well. Brennan stood and ruffled the little girl's hair with an affectionate smile and spoke quietly to the woman with her. With a wave, the two turned and made their way down the sidewalk with the little girl holding her mother's hand and skipping happily along. Booth paused halfway out of the car, transfixed at the sight of Brennan's interaction with the little girl. He'd never seen her so relaxed around a child before. She was great with Parker and Parker loved her but she still got a little nervous around him sometimes. Booth already knew that she would be a great mother and he wanted to have kids with her someday, but seeing her with that little girl gave him hope that she would be willing. His heart swelled with love for the woman smiling at him from the sidewalk. She extended her hand. He took it and they walked inside.
"What is this place, Bones?" She gave him a look that he couldn't quite interpret.
"It's a dance studio, Booth." Well, yeah, he kind of knew that from the sign on the window and all the bar thingys on the wall, but trust his Bones to take the question literally. He had to smile.
"Good one, Bones. But I meant why are we here?" She looked at him thoughtfully before spreading out her arms to encompass the room.
"Because this, Booth, is what you gave back to me." Her eyes held gratitude and love, but he didn't get it.
"I don't understand." She sighed and pulled him over to sit in a couple of chairs in an area that he assumed was for parents to watch their children practice.
"This is my studio, Booth. I own it." His shock showed plainly on his face.
"What? Since when?" She did that little head tilt that he thought was adorable and he knew that she was calculating in her head to give him an accurate time line.
"Almost two years now." She gazed at him with a soft smile playing on her lips waiting for the next question. He reached for her hand, twining their fingers together.
"I'm sorry, Baby, but I just don't get what this has to do with me." She sighed again. This was harder than she had thought it would be.
"Booth, two years ago, the Maestro contacted me to let me know that he was retiring from Juliard and thinking of moving to Europe and opening a studio." His eyebrows rose and she answered his unspoken question. "Yes, we've kept in touch since I reconnected with Angela in college. When I thought about it I realized that I didn't want him that far away, so I offered to open this place for him." Brennan could see that Booth heard and processed her words but still didn't quite grasp her meaning. "Booth, before I met you, before you made me start seeing and caring about other people again, I would have wished the Maestro well and waved him off. But you gave me the courage and the clarity to reach out to one of the dearest people in my life. You gave me that, Booth. You, no one else, only you." Booth was flooded with so many emotions that he couldn't have said with any certainty exactly what he felt right then. Then he was hit by a thought that brought an easily identified emotion. Embarrassment.
"Wait a minute. Are you telling me that the Maestro is your therapist?" Please say no. Come on, Bones, tell me that I didn't just make a jealous jerk of myself over someone you consider a father figure. The saucy grin she gave him confirmed his suspicions. He groaned and covered his face with his hands. A deep, masculine chuckle coming from behind them brought his head up and around. He saw a man who appeared to be in his early fifties, with dark brown hair liberally sprinkled with gray and twinkling green eyes. He was about 5' 11" tall and held himself with an almost military bearing. When his eyes went to Brennan, they softened with so much affection that Booth instantly knew his identity. He stood at attention and held out his hand.
"Hello, sir. You must be the Maestro. I'm..," he was cut off by an infectious chuckle. The Maestro took Booth's hand and gave it a firm shake.
"Oh, I know who you are, Agent Booth. I hear about you frequently." Brennan rolled her eyes at Booth's pleased look and the Maestro's chuckles became outright laughter. "And please call me Chris. The girls are the only ones who still call me Maestro and I've been trying to get them to stop for years." His tone held parental fondness and just a hint of exasperation seeming to say, Children will be children, but, hey, what can you do? Booth was able to gauge Brennan's affection for this man right then and there. If anyone else had called her a girl or used that tone of voice when referring to her, she would have verbally flayed them. She merely smiled up at the Maestro. "So, Agent Booth, would you like a tour of our humble abode?'
"Sir, please, call me Booth. And yes, I would love a tour."
"Son, you can drop the sir." Booth nodded and grinned, holding out his hand and pulling Brennan to her feet. Holding hands, they ambled through the building. Chris gave him details on the history of the building and explained the work needed to convert it into a dance studio. He then explained that for every class that they provided for paying customers, they provided one free of charge to the underprivileged and he and Brennan had worked with social services to make the free classes accessible to as many foster children as possible. Booth knew that Brennan did her fair share of good deeds, but this was amazing. Why hadn't she told him? Because she doesn't see her altruistic deeds as something to brag about, she simply sees something that needs to be done and does it, end of story, he answered his own question. He shot her a look of admiration and was struck by how relaxed she was in this place.
"Bones, do you spend a lot of time here." She shrugged and looked around, not really avoiding his eyes, but not making contact either.
"I teach a class sometimes." Chris snorted and Brennan shot him a quelling look.
"Temperence is being modest, as usual, Booth. She teaches at least two classes a week." How did he not know about this? Where did she find the time?
"When?" She met his eyes.
"I reduced my martial arts classes down to once a week about nine months ago." He hadn't known that either. What the hell did he know about her? She saw the thought cross his face as clearly as if he had spoken the words aloud. She tried to turn away so he wouldn't see her hurt, but he wouldn't release her hand. Instead, he tugged, pulling her into his arms. When she wouldn't look at him, he used one hand to tilt her chin up. Neither noticed Chris walking away to give them some privacy.
"Hey, I was just surprised. Why didn't you tell me about any of this?" She shrugged. He could appreciate that it really wasn't any of his business when it was happening, but he was a little hurt that she hadn't told him about any of it after they got together.
"I don't know, Booth. I wasn't really trying to keep it from you, it just never really came up." Ok, he could buy that. Besides, she was telling him about it now and that showed her willingness to open her life to him. He was satisfied with that. He gave her a smile sexy enough to send a shiver racing down her spine and bent to tease her lips apart. Raising his head a couple of inches, he caught and held her gaze and told her what was always in his heart.
"I love you, Bones."
"I love you, too, Booth." His mouth covered hers and he pulled her closer. Chris watched the couple fondly, smiling softly. It's about time my little girl found some happiness. He thought that Booth seemed like a good man, at least, Angela and Brennan sang his praises. He suddenly frowned intently. Hey, buddy, watch those hands. Did you hear me? He turned away. Damn, who would have thought this dad thing would make you think about punching an FBI agent?
