BONES
Then, I'd smiled, too.
Now that I've told Booth, now that I can see how happy he is, all my fears – well, most of them, anyway – are allayed.
"Bones! You need some help in there?"
I smile, something I've been doing a lot in the last hour-and-a-half. I've learned, this last month, that Booth is as skittish about bodily functions as he is talking about sex. The idea of him, in his bathroom with me, as I urinate on a stick is so absurd that the notion draws a laugh past my lips.
Tugging a t-shirt on, I shove my arms through the holes then open the bathroom door. As calmly as if I've done this a dozen times before, I walk over to his bedside table, set two minutes on the egg timer, then, laying the stick on the table, sit down on the bed. Booth, on the other hand, continues to pace the small confines of his bedroom.
Booth had begged me to humor him by taking another test. He hadn't seen the first and despite the doctor confirming the pregnancy yesterday, he wanted to see it for himself, to 'make it real'. So, we'd stopped at a 24-hour drug store where I'd picked up the test and here we were: Me, calmly awaiting the answer I knew the test would reveal, while he anxiously waited on the answer he was still trying to absorb.
"A baby, Bones. A baby! How… how-how-how-how… How did this happen?"
"Do you really need me to explain the biology of how a pregnancy occurs?" I joke. The look he shoots me says he thinks I'm being what he calls 'a smart ass'… and I am.
"I mean… wow… A baby." He sits down on the end of the bed, then flops backwards, staring at the ceiling. "I think I'd pretty much given up on being a father again. I mean, I'm almost forty-two. I'm two years older than Pops was when I was born."
"I was five-years-old by the time my mother was the age I am now, and Russ was nine."
"I'll be sixty - Sixty, Bones! - when he graduates high school." I turn slightly so I can see his face and do my best to look stern.
"Or she," I remind. He grins at me.
"Then I'll be seventy-two, at least, when I walk her down the aisle." I shake my head, fighting a smile.
"She'd be thirty."
"At least," he repeats. I laugh aloud.
"She may never want to get married," I point out. He rolls to his stomach then sits up next to me.
"Isn't that thing done… doing whatever that thing does yet?" I glance at the timer.
"Just under a minute to go." I turn my head back to look at him. "It's not like we don't already know what it's going to say."
"I know. I just want to see myself." He takes my hand and waits for my eyes to meet his. "I want to be there for all of it, Bones: The morning sickness, the cravings, the swollen ankles and back aches; the…the midnight feedings, the diaper changes and walking the floors all night when he—" I give him a look he quickly understands "Or she doesn't feel good; I want to be there for the first word, the first step, the first tooth and… and… and the first day of school. I want all of it, every second, no matter how big or small." I give his hand a squeeze.
"I know," I assure. "Even if things didn't work out with us, you know I'd never keep our child from you, Booth. You're a great father." He moves so swiftly to kiss me, that I nearly lose my balance, grabbing his forearm to right myself as his lips caress mine. Then, as quickly as he bestowed the kiss on me, when the timer dings, he ends it and releases me. He rubs his hands against his thighs, nervously.
"You look first," he insists. It all seems rather silly to me, given we know the result, but I glance at the small results window.
"As expected," I tell him, handing him the wand. His eyes shift from me to the window…
"Two lines." He turns to me. "Two lines is good, right?"
"Well, I suppose that would depend on who you are," I reply as I position a couple of pillows against the headboard, pull back the sheets then sit down with my back resting against them, "In our specific case, it appears the answer is yes." Booth joins me, mimicking my position, staring at the pregnancy test again.
"I'm going to frame this," he declares. I laugh aloud.
"That's not very practical, Booth. The results fade after a couple of hours and need I remind you I urinated on that stick?" He shrivels his nose.
"Good point." He reaches for his cell phone on the bedside table then scoots closer to me. "Hold this," he directs, handing me the pregnancy test. Wrapping an arm around my shoulders, he holds the camera up for what I now recognize as a 'selfie.' I position the test so the results can be easily seen and rest my head against his shoulder. After he takes the picture, he slips an arm around my waist and kisses me. I recognize the sound of the phone taking another picture and smiling against his lips, I push away. "Ahhh," he breathes his approval of the kiss. "I never asked: Are you happy, Bones?" I give the question some thought before answering.
"Happy is one of the things I'm feeling, yes. And afraid." I spill out my worries. "Booth, what if I can't bond with our child? What if I can't nurture our child the way a child needs?" He eases closer to me again until our hips connect then slips an arm around my shoulders.
"I think that you're worrying about bonding with our child speaks volumes about the mother you'll be. I mean, you don't worry about bonding with your squinterns, do you?" I lean my head back to look at him.
"Well, no."
"As far as the rest, we'll balance each other out, like we do in everything else. He'll have your brain—"
"My intelligence, not my brain, Booth." He rolls his eyes, but his smile doesn't leave. I've amused him, somehow.
"So you'll teach him—"
"Or her…"
"All the smart stuff and I'll teach him how to have fun," he continues, undeterred.
"I can read her bedtime stories every night."
"And I can act them out." He leaps out of bed and moves around the room in imitation of a monkey. "Look, I'm Curious George!" I laugh at his silliness.
"I can teach her jokes."
"Not if you want them to be funny," he retorts, flopping down on the bed next to me. My nose scrunches up. I disagree with that assessment.
"I'm quite good at telling jokes," I object as I sidle downwards to lay next to him.
"No," he counters, emphatically, then touches his mouth to mine before continuing, "You aren't. You have many skills, Bones, but telling a joke isn't one of them."
"I disagree."
"You would." He smiles at me unrepentantly. I get a sudden, juvenile urge to stick my tongue out at him. The thought makes me smile.
"I could do experiments with her. Some of my best memories of Max are of him and me in his shop, me helping him with some experiment he'd come up with."
"And I can teach him all about sports. Who knows, maybe we'll watch him in the Olympics one day," he ponders.
"And I could teach her chess," I insert, rather enthused with the idea. He flops to his back.
"Bonessssssss," he draws out in complaint. "Chess is not a sport, no matter what you and Sweets think."
"I disagree," I return, drawing out some words of my own.
"Yet, you're still wrong." He draws his hand down my stomach until it rests low on my abdomen and smiles in that way he smiles when he feels confident in his thoughts. "You're going to be a great Mom, Bones. A great Mom." He sits up and leans over until his lips hover just over my midsection, while his hand strokes it again. "Hello, little baby in the belly. This is your Dada… Daddy… Dad. Did you hear that? You're going to have a great Mom." I close my eyes when he presses his lips against my stomach and lets them briefly linger there. The gesture makes me quite emotional for a reason I don't understand. "Goodnight, little baby in the belly." My eyes blink open when he shifts again, stretching out on his side and propping his head in his hand. I drop the pregnancy test on the bedside table and do the same, this time before bed having become one of my favorite parts of the day.
"Booth, what if something happens to you?" I voice my largest fear. "What if you're not here to help me or to balance me out for our child?"
"I'll just have to be more careful." I'm not convinced and it must show. "Look, Bones, I've managed to stay alive the last decade because Parker needs his father. Now I have you, the baby and our family, too. I'll wear my protective gear when there's a risk of gunfire and I'll do my best to avoid insane serial killers and rogue snipers. I can't eliminate all the risks, but I can do my best to minimize them. You need to do the same." I don't like where I think this is heading.
"I hope you don't mean you're going to try to byline me."
"By—" He frowns, then rolls his eyes. "Sideline, not byline, Bones. That's not what I'm saying at all. As much as I'd like to, you're the only one who can protect this little baby," he explains, placing a hand on my abdomen again. "There are reasonable precautions you can take and still be my partner." My eyes narrow.
"What kind of precautions?" I ask, suspiciously.
"No chasing suspects or fighting with them and when bullets start flying you get the hell out of Dodge instead of barreling into trouble…You know, like you always do." I ponder what he says and find no fault.
"Alright."
"Wait. No arguments?"
"Your points are reasonable, so I see no reason to wage an argument." He smiles and presses a pair of kisses to my lips. "Booth… Do you think Parker will be happy? He's been an only child for a very long time."
"Are you kidding?! He'll be thrilled! Parker's always wanted to be a big brother."
"We're going to have to tell them. Our families. They should be the first to know." For a reason I can't explain, his smile makes me nervous. "Why are you looking at me like that? If you're not ready—"
"Max knows."
"No, he doesn't, Booth," I insist with a laugh. "We were very convincing." His smile widens.
"He knows."
"How?" I draw the word out in dismay. Not so much because my Dad knows, but more so because we had failed to prevent him from knowing. Booth just shrugs a shoulder, still smiling.
"Max has relied on his instincts and ability to read people and situations his entire life so he could stay in front of the law and enemies and to keep his family safe, Bones." He lifts his brows at me. "Not to mention, a man knows when a guy is having carnal thoughts about his daughter. It's a dad thing." The last makes me smile.
"You were having carnal thoughts about me?"
"Let's just say my eyes might have lingered on the view a little too long when you walked away after our 'display of affection.'"
"If you want to make it look real, maybe you should be a little more affectionate with each other."
I laugh low in my throat, pleased by the admission.
"Enjoyed it, did you?" He slides a hand over my hip, to stroke my bottom.
"It's a very nice view." My smile fades.
"Booth, do you think Max knows I'm pregnant?"
"No, I don't," he answers, his hand moving upwards caress my hip. "Would it bother you if he did?"
"I know it's not rational, but yes, it would," I admit. "You're the father. You should be the first to know." He draws in a harsh breath and leans in to kiss me. As I lift my hand to cup his neck and draw him near, he ends the kiss and slips away.
"Do you have any idea how much a baby needs, Bones?" I think about what Angela has told me.
"According to Angela, the two main necessities are a crib and a changing table." He chuckles.
"That's about what I thought with Parker and, boy, did I learn." My brows draw together.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, for tiny people, they need a lot of things. There's the car seat, carrier and stroller when you go out. Then when you're in, there's the swing, the highchair, the bouncy seat, the walker, the exersaucer the playmat and the play yard. You could barely walk through my apartment the first two years of Parker's life, even if I didn't have him very often. That's not even counting all the little things: Diapers, wipes, wash cloths, burp cloths, blankets, bottles, nipples, bottle brushes, thermometer, Tylenol, Motrin, medication for gas and diaper cremes for when they get a rash." My eyes widen, and he's not done. "And just when you think you have everything you need, you go to give them Tylenol when they have a fever and you realize they can't take it off the spoon, they need a syringe. So you pack up the baby and run to the store to get it." I sit up and begin to get out of bed, when Booth grabs my hand, stopping me. "Where are you going, Bones?" I look back over my shoulder at him.
"To get my notebook and a pen. We should make a list—"
"Get back here," he insists, tugging me back into the bed next to him. "We have – what? – eight months to get everything we need? No lists. Tonight, let's just enjoy finding out we're going to be a family." I feel my eyes moisten as I get unexpectedly emotional. I blink my eyes several times trying to clear them. "You okay, Bones?"
"We're going to be a family, Booth," I repeat what he said, still not quite believing it. Leaning down over me, he rests his forehead against mine, smiling.
"A family."
As he leans down to kiss me, I can't help but think about a spring night a little more than a year ago that for the majority of the last year I have viewed as the beginning of the end to what mattered most to me. Now, when I look back, what comes to mind is the quote carved into the wall below where we'd stood on that evening…
Nothing happens if not first a dream.
This in turn, reminds me, as I divest Booth of his t-shirt and draw my hands down his firmly muscled back, that there is still something I need to do in the upcoming days, when the time is right…