Hello wonderful readers who grace my stories with their presences!
Today's my boyfriend and I's two year anniversary. So, that inspired this extremely fluffy piece you are about to read. Enjoy!
Vehe
"Sweetie, what are you doing?"
When it came to Temperance Brennan, Angela Montenegro could have sworn she had seen it all. She'd seen her best friend pleased, evidenced in the countless times her blue eyes had lit up when she found something helpful in her bones. She'd seen her happy, like when someone in her team – no, her family – had done something that made her smile. She'd seen her crushed, she'd seen her torn, she'd seen her anguished, she'd seen her quit, and then she'd seen the resulting anger when her best friend found out that the source of all her emotion as of late was completely pointless. So through the longs and the shorts of their friendship, Angela learned how to decipher the concrete walls of Temperance Brennan and read the underlying feeling that she so desperately tried to mask. And after everything they'd gone through – from the kidnappings to the serial killers to Christmases to weddings, or therefore lack of – she thought she knew every size, shape, color, and dimension of her "Bren."
But she was at an utter loss with this one.
"Sweetie, what are you doing?" she asked again, this time a bit louder so her voice wasn't concealed by the charming…waltz? Brennan was listening to.
"I'm dancing," her friend replied nonchalantly. Brennan was standing in the middle of her office, her long arms outstretched elegantly, holding her imaginary partner. She twirled through the open space, head free and occasionally dipping to the music, her feet moving in the one, two three, one, two three pulse of the waltz. Is that smile…natural? Angela thought, at a loss for words. She seems sober… Brennan seemingly forgot her friend and went back to her dancing. Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to move with the music once more.
"You're…dancing?" Angela asked, awkwardly trying to make the words work together in the same sentence.
"Yes," Brennan replied without stopping or opening her eyes. "Isn't that apparent?"
"Well, yeah, but…" Angela stopped speaking, figuring she didn't need Brennan's approval or commentary on this odd occasion, and strode into Brennan's office. She walked over to Brennan's CD player while her best friend continued to dance and hum.
Brennan hummed?!
Pressing the "eject" button on the stereo and ignoring the blatant cry of "hey!" from her best friend, Angela looked at the CD; it was the soundtrack for Disney's Cinderella.
Oh, this was too weird.
"So, let me get this straight," Ange said, turning around and fingering the CD. "You're in your office in an extremely good mood, dancing with an imaginary person to the 'Cinderella Waltz?'"
"Yes," Brennan nodded.
"Why?"Angela asked, slightly gesturing with her hands for effect.
"Because today makes me happy, that's all."
Angela smiled – eliciting emotional responses from Brennan was far too similar to pulling a complete story from a five year-old. It was best to go with the Kindergarten approach on this one.
"Why does today make you happy?"
"Because," she beamed, "Today's the fifth year anniversary for when Booth and I started working together!"
"Really?" Angela was shocked. Foremost, she couldn't imagine why Bren had remembered the date that she started working with her partner – after all, Dr. Brennan had hated Booth in the beginning, and the feeling was mutual. Second, she couldn't understand why Brennan, a person who condemned "antiquated rituals" such as Christmas or marriage, would be honoring an anniversary – muchless celebrating it.
"Yep! Five years ago today," she informed while dancing.
"Wow. I mean, props to you girl, I don't think even the G-man remembers that."
Brennan stopped dancing. "I don't know what that means."
"Props like congratu – you know, just forget it," Angela decided, waving her hands in dismissal of the subject. "Are you gonna do anything for it?"
"What? Our anniversary?"
A grin spread slowly across the artist's beautiful face - Angela liked how that sounded far, far too much.
"Well, yeah. You know how important it is to celebrate anniversaries, Bren."
"No…I, I don't," the doctor admitted, flustered.
"Oh my god, honey," Angela gushed, pulling Brennan over to her office coffee table. "We're about to have one of the biggest girl talks of our life."
"I don't know what that means…"
"Yeah, I figured."
Her call had been vague, yet urgent.
"Booth," he had answered in the same manner he always did.
"I need you to come over." Her tone was frantic yet emotionless; it immediately set the FBI agent on edge.
"What? Why? Are you ok?" He gripped the steering wheel tighter with his free hand. His blood started pulsing a little faster, like a marathon runner who is getting his second wind and beginning to sprint again.
"I'm fine, Booth. But I need you to come over. Now." Damn her for always being so calm. Even if she was being held at gunpoint by one of the psycho killers that always seemed to find her, she would be using this same tone. Only Temperance Brennan was capable of saying "Booth, it's a nice day out" and "Booth, someone's trying to kill me" in an identical fashion.
"Bones, is someone hurting you?"
"No, Booth, I'm fine. This is just really important."
"Whoever you are, if you're hurting Dr. Brennan, I swear I'll –"
"Who are you talking to?"
"Anyone who's trying to hurt you."
"Booth, no one's here."
"Well, they wouldn't want you to say, 'Hey Booth, I'm being held at knifepoint against my will, can you please come get me?' now would they?"
"Who is 'they?'"
"Your – never mind, Bones. I'll be right there," Booth sighed, clapping his phone shut – he wasn't sure whether to be worried or irritated with his partner. He made an extremely illegal U-turn and beelined the truck for her apartment.
"Daddy, is Dr. Bones ok?"
"Yeah, Parker, she's fine," the father replied to his eight year-old son.
"Ok," Parker replied, seemingly content with the reply. About thirty seconds later, the boy in the backseat asked, "Daddy, why are you sweating?"
"It's hot in here, bub," Booth replied, both hands now holding the steering wheel in a death grip.
"No it's not, Daddy," the little Booth said, cocking his head to the side. "Are you nervous? Mommy says you sweat when you're nervous."
"I'm not nervous."
"Then why are you sweating if it's not hot?"
"It – it doesn't matter, Parker. When we get to Bones' place, I want you to stay in the car, ok?"
"Why?"
"Because it might be dangerous, and I don't want you to get hurt buddy," Booth replied, trying to make the situation seem as insignificant as possible.
"I thought you said Bones was fine."
"She is."
"Then why can't I go see her? I want to see Dr. Bones too!" Parker questioned, turning his big brown eyes on his father.
"You can, Parks. I just have to see her first."
"We always go together to see her," Parker replied stubbornly, crossing his arms.
Seeley Booth exhaled impatiently as he pulled into his partner's apartment complex going twice the legal speed limit. "Parker, just…stay in the car, ok? I'll come get you!" He didn't have time to compromise with his son.
"But Daddy!"
"Do what I say, Parker!" Booth yelled as he rushed from his car, not pausing to see if the electronic lock had registered when he pressed the button on his keys. He quickly but stealthily moved into the apartment building, opting to take the stairs over the elevator. Sprinting up five flights, he pulled his gun from his hip and carefully held it in front of him. After checking the hallway, he strode to Brennan's door. He could faintly hear a Disney tune playing from within. Great, he thought. This is one of those childhood fantasy sickos. How do you find these guys, Bones?
"Bones? Bones!" He called, knocking twice. After no answer, he backed up, preparing to shoulder the door in. Holding his gun away from his intended motion, he –
"Booth!" Bones cried happily as she opened the door. Her partner was already in motion, and they collided in the doorway, him pushing her back against the inside wall of her apartment with the force he'd intended to use breaking down the door. She groaned as he knocked her back, and quickly, he was backing away, examining her.
"Bones! Are you ok?"
"Yeah…I'm glad I opened the door."
"Sorry, I thought…"
"Why do you have your gun out?" she questioned.
"Right," he answered, using his left arm to pull her behind his body, shielding her. He stepped further into her apartment, gun ready, surveying her home for any potential danger.
"Booth, what are you doing?"
"Trying to find the bastard that held you captive."
"There's nobody else here."
He tore his eyes away from his scan long enough to peek into her eyes. The blue depths were calm. "Are you sure?"
"Yes! I'm quite certain that –" she trailed off as she saw his eyes scan her dining room. She'd transformed it to match an Italian café. A white tablecloth blanketed the stained-dark oak table. Atop it sat two porcelain plates, each with their own silverware and wine glass, which were both filled with a crimson liquid. Two candles flickered warmly in the middle of the setting, giving a warm glow. From the kitchen, aromas of chicken parmesan and spaghetti wafted through the house, accompanied softly by Cinderella's Waltz. Finally, above the dining room window hung a canvas banner with "Happy Anniversary!" painted in Angela's calligraphy.
"Bones…what is all this?" the FBI agent murmured, dropping his gun-hand to his side.
"It's our anniversary, Booth."
"Our…anniversary?" he quipped, half befuddled and half bemused.
"Yes. Five years ago today we started working together officially," she said bashfully. Booth thought he saw a slight tinge of pink grace her cheeks.
"Huh…we've never celebrated that before, Bones."
"Well, no…but I didn't realize the significance of the date until earlier today when Angela explained it to me."
"Angela, huh? What'd she say?" he asked as he continued to gawk at his surroundings.
"Well, apparently you're supposed to do something nice for the other person to celebrate the mark of time well spent. The other night I was reflecting on these past five years, and everything we've done, and everything you've taught me…" she looked down, blushing again. Booth smiled happily, and she continued, "and I realized how truly grateful I am for you in my life, Booth."
"Bones, I don't know what to say."
"I remembered you telling me that your grandfather used to take you out for Italian food when something really important happened. I – I," she stammered, "I wanted to sort of re-create the feeling for you, as our partnership has been extremely important to me."
He continued to smile, then furrowed his brow. "Bones, you don't believe in celebrating 'antiquated rituals.'"
"I know. But we're not an antiquated ritual. Never before in history has there been a partnership like ours, and never before have I had a friend like you. This isn't some mythical event that society's twisted into a profit opportunity for Hallmark; it's an important event."
"Sort of like celebrating your birthday?"
"'Your' being an ambiguous pronoun referring to individuals of the human species?" she spoke, coking her head to the side, "Yes. 'Your' referring to my birthday? No."
Booth decided to let that one slide – but only for now. He made a mental note to throw her the best surprise birthday party ever when hers rolled around in a few months.
"Did…did you cook all of that?" he gestured to the food in the kitchen, trying to conceal his drool.
"Yes," she said proudly. "I looked up some family recipes – some are ours, some are borrowed, but I'm sure you'll find them all satisfactory."
"You bet I –"
"BONES!" There was a bang as the partially opened door flew open and smacked against the wall, and then a loud thump as a little curly-haired blond boy hit the floor when the rug he was running upon slipped underneath him. Looking up from his hands and knees, he smiled up at his dad and his dad's best friend. "Hi!" he said brightly.
"Parker! I didn't know you were here!" the scientist smiled, rushing over to help him up. Once the boy was back on his feet, he wrapped his arms around her waist, hugging her. She hugged him back, smiling.
"Daddy told me to wait in the car. He said there was danger! But after a while, I figured there wasn't, and he just forgot about me, so I came up to say hi!"
"I didn't forget about you!"
"Yes you did!"
"No I – " Booth grinned sheepishly at his partner, at a loss for words. "Bones, I'm sorry, I can take him home –"
"No! I don't wanna go home! I wanna be with you and Bones!" Parker objected, burying his face in Brennan's leg.
"Booth, it's fine. I'd love for Parker to stay. Besides, I made more than enough food, even with your appetite."
For the first time, Parker looked away from his dad and Bones and into Bones' apartment. "Wow!" he exclaimed. "It looks like we're in The Lady and the Tramp!"
"Are you sure, Bones? I know you went through a lot of work – it all looks great," Booth smiled warmly. "But it's really fine if I drop Parker off –"
"No!" Parker objected once more.
"No, Booth. I want him to stay."
"If you're sure. The food smells amazing Bones. Can we eat?"
Brennan laughed, and Booth lit up when he saw his favorite smile dance upon her face. "Sure. Seeley Booth, are you salivating?"
"Absolutely."
Brennan set another place for Parker, and the three sat around Brennan's table, eating the meal she'd laboriously prepared. Angela had assured her that silence when men were eating was a good thing – it meant they were enjoying their food. She smiled inwardly – she'd have to thank Ange for giving her this great idea. She'd never seen Booth so happy, and they were only on dinner.
"Want more wine, Booth?"
"Please," he responded, mouth half-full. "Bones, this is awesome."
"Thank you," she smiled warmly. "I'm so glad you like it."
"This is better than anything Mommy ever cooks!"Parker quipped while munching on his meatball.
"Parker!" Booth sternly corrected.
Brennan merely laughed. "Well, then I guess you Booth boys will have to come over for dinner more often." Booth's face lit up, and Brennan beamed back.
After at least thirty seconds of watching his dad and Bones smile at each other, Parker spoke up: "Are you two gonna kiss like Lady and the Tramp did?" Both adults blushed and looked away; Parker giggled.
"More wine, please," Booth requested shooting a sideways glance at his son. Brennan obliged, finally filling his glass. She giggled as he took a long swig.
Booth looked at his son, rolled his eyes once more, and spoke, "So, Bones, what movie is this music from? It's Disney, right?"
Brennan looked at her plate awkwardly and blushed. "Um, it's from Cinderella." Booth raised an eyebrow in inquiry, so she continued, "It was my favorite Disney movie as a little girl. I always loved the music, and it was chucked in my head –"
"Stuck in your head, Bones."
"Right. Stuck in my head this morning, so I've been listening to it all day."
Booth smiled his biggest charm smile. "Well, in that case…care to dance with me?"
"What?"
He rose from his seat on the opposite side of the table and walked to her side. Kneeling on one knee, he took her hand in his and asked, "Lady Temperance, will you dance with me?"
For once, she caught on to his goofy behavior and responded in the way a lady would respond to her knight. "I would be honored." Parker giggled from across the table. She rose, and he led her to the open space of her living room, and the two began to waltz around the room.
Brennan hummed to herself as Booth whirled her around the furniture, and she was surprised when he hummed along with her. Happy peals of laughter rang out from Parker, and the couple beamed at each other.
"Lady Temperance, you are quite a good dancer," Booth mused, laying the knight-character on thick.
"My, Sir Booth, I could say the same about you," she smiled back.
Looking into his partner's eyes, Booth's demeanor changed from joking to serious. "Bones – thank you for everything. Really. This," he gestured with his head to the room behind them, "is amazing."
"I had to do something to thank you. It's nothing, really."
Booth laughed. "When we first started working together, could you picture us lasting this long?"
"Quite frankly, I would have been surprised if you lasted a week back then."
"I couldn't agree more. But I'm glad we did, Bones."
She smiled up at him, and brown eyes locked with blue. "Me too, Booth." He pulled her closer, and the two could feel the smiles that blazed across each other's faces.
They continued to twirl and waltz until the CD ended. Both looked up, and then looked to Parker, who was smiling. "Do we get dessert?" he asked.
"Oh! I completely forgot!" Brennan said, running to the kitchen. From the depths of the oven, she pulled a simmering apple pie.
Booth's jaw hit the floor and continued to the basement. "You made pie?"
"Of course I did. It's your favorite."
Booth beamed at her, wonder in his eyes. This woman never ceased to amaze him. "What did I do to deserve you?"
"Anthropologically speaking, Booth, since you are the alpha male and you are – "
"Daddy, can I have a piece?" Parker asked, his eyes as big as the moon.
"Sure buddy!" he said quickly, eager for an excuse from Brennan's "anthropologically speaking" rant. He threw a quick charm smile at Brennan. "You're the absolute best," he said.
She grinned back. "So are you."
Pie had been eaten – all of it – and the dishes had been cleared, washed, and dried. The three settled on the couch to watch a movie. Parker, having found Brennan's stack of Disney movies from Hayley's hospital period, insisted on watching one.
"Bones, can we watch Cinderella?" the little boy asked.
"If you want, Parker. There are others, too…"
"But this is your favorite. You've been really, really nice to us tonight, so we should watch your favorite movie! And you make the best pie."
"I couldn't agree more," Booth said, grinning.
"Alright," Brennan replied. "If that's what you want. Thank you, Parks."
"You're welcome!" he smiled his biggest smile.
"So," Booth said as Parker put the movie in, "what made you like Cinderella so much?"
"I don't know. The story is completely illogical, as there are no such things as fairy godmothers or magic pumpkins and such…but it was always my favorite movie as a little girl. And then when I went into the system," she said as a dark look crossed her face, "I really, really started liking the movie more. It's stupid, I know – but I held on to the hope that someday, someone would come for me and love me again."
"Someday my prince will come?" Booth asked, quoting the famous song.
"Exactly," Brennan grinned back. "I know it's illogical, but –"
"It's ok, Bones," Booth whispered, slipping his arm around her shoulder. "It made you feel better. There's nothing wrong with that."
"It's ok to hope a prince would come for me?"
"Yeah, Bones – the prince is just sorry that his GPS system on his noble steed screwed up and it took him so long." Booth froze – did he really just say that out loud? Damn it, Seeley, he internally cursed, Now you're just gonna confuse her, and she'll get mad, and then she'll be even more confused, and then –
"I knew I should have gotten him a new one for Christmas." Booth's mouth fell open as his partner smiled up at him, and then a smile spread across his face. He pressed his forehead to hers.
"Maybe that'll be a good present for our next anniversary."
Hope you guys liked it! Please review!