(In the future)

This story was suggested by mendenbar. I hope this is what you were looking for.

I don't own Bones.

Ooooooooooooooo

As he pulled his pants on, Aubrey felt a moment of panic. They were too tight and that just couldn't be. As he struggled to zip them up, he came to the conclusion that the dry cleaners had either given him someone else's pants or they had screwed up somehow. Inhaling, he managed to get the zipper to the top and let his breath go. "Damn, I wish I was still on vacation."

The last two weeks had been bliss. He and Jessica had gone on a gastronomic vacation to New York City. They had studied restaurants menus online, and were careful to choose restaurants that would give them a culinary education during each meal. They had tried as many different ethnic restaurants that they could work into their vacation. Jamaican, Thai, Korean, Russian, Polish, Senegalese, and Indian and they had loved them all. Their trip had been everything they had wanted it to be, but now that he was home and he could no longer wear shorts, jeans and hawaiian shirts, he was finding it hard to get into his suit. "Damn dry cleaners."

His shirt was a little tight across his stomach and so was his jacket, but he didn't have time to change into something else. He had a meeting with Booth at 8 a.m. and if he didn't make it on time, he would hear about it all day. The man hated it when anyone wasted his time.

Disgusted that his suit was making him uncomfortable, Aubrey shook his head and decided to change dry cleaners. It was outrageous what the man charged high prices and his work was definitely slipping. He had an image to uphold and he couldn't do if he didn't look his normal dapper self.

Oooooooooooooooooo

The snigger was unmistakable and the look on Booth's face told him that this was going to be a long day. "This isn't my fault. The dry cleaner must have given me someone else's suit." Aubrey really hated Booth's sense of humor sometimes. He sat down across the table from the Assistant Deputy Director and folded his hands on the table. "You want to start the meeting?"

Amused, Booth reached for a box of donuts sitting near his elbow, opened it and slid it over to his SAC. "Have a donut." He waited to see if Aubrey would take his usual three and much to his disappointment and surprise, Aubrey shook his head. "No . . . really?" Maybe he should check his calendar and see if the end of the world was scheduled for that day. "Okay." He grabbed one, bit into the crispy dough and slowly chewed the sugary pastry. "Mmmm."

Annoyed that Booth was playing games at his expense, Aubrey flipped open one of the folders near his elbow and started to read it. "We need to get this meeting started. I have things I need to do. I probably have a thousand damn emails waiting for me."

Finished with his donut, Booth moved the box so it was no longer in reach of his friend. "About a hundred from me, so good luck."

"Wonderful."

Oooooooooooooooooo

He met Jessica at the Diner and when he sat down he noticed the look of amusement on his wife's face. "This is not my suit." Huffing, he flipped the menu open and though he was ravenous, settled for a chef salad, a cup of coffee and a slice of cherry pie.

A little shocked, Jessica stood up, leaned over and placed her hand against his forehead. "Are you sick?"

His irritation growing, Aubrey jerked his head away from her. "I'm not sick. I just think I should cut back today since my suit is a little tight. I don't want to split my pants. That would just make Booth's day, the sorry bastard."

She wanted to laugh, but Jessica knew it would make the situation worse. "Well, we ate so much on our trip, I think we could both use just a salad for lunch. I think I gained three or four pounds while we were on vacation. I just need to increase my exercise regimen for the next few days and it will be okay . . . Maybe you should join me at the gym."

"Hey, I told you the dry cleaner screwed up. This is not my suit." The idea that he needed to exercise was ludicrous. "I run and that's all I need. I'll start back to jogging tonight after work. I'll run at the park then come home."

She shrugged her shoulders. "As we get older, our metabolism starts to slow down. You may not be able to eat whatever you want like you used to."

"Hey, I'm a young man . . . I am. Forty-two is not old." He glared at his wife. "I take after my mother. She could eat anything and she always looked like a bean pole."

"Your mother was forty-four when she died, wasn't she?"

Not sure where this conversation was going on, Aubrey crossed his arms against his chest. "What the hell are you trying to say?"

He was angry, but she didn't care at the moment. "Your mother was skinny because she was very sick. You have no idea if she would have stayed skinny if she had been healthy. She loved to eat like you do . . . I think you need to go on a diet."

Shocked, Aubrey stared at his wife as if she had lost her mind. "Are you kidding me? This is not my suit. How many times do I have to say that?"

Their food now at the table, Jessica leaned back and watched her salad being placed on the table before her. "Do what you want, Aubrey . . . I have to go back to work after lunch, so we need to eat now . . . I'm going to make baked zucchini tonight and a side salad I think."

The handwriting was on the wall. His wife thought he was fat and she was making him go on a diet. Would the humiliation ever end?

Ooooooooooooooooooo

Apparently not. That evening, Aubrey checked the suit he was wearing carefully and found it really did belong to him. Grabbing a couple of other suit pants from the closet he found both were tight and there was no getting around it. Somehow his body had betrayed him.

Reluctantly, he stepped into the bathroom, stepped on the scales that belonged to Jessica and cringed when he found out he was nine pounds heavier than his optimum weight. "No! This isn't right." He stepped off then back on. To his disgust the number didn't change. "Nine pounds . . . Oh my God, what if I didn't take after Mom after all, but my Dad. Mom said he was thin when he was young . . . No, I want my old body back. This is just wrong."

Jessica leaned against the doorframe of the bathroom and shook her head. Her husband had always had a great body and he still did. Nine pounds was not the end of the world. "You're worrying too much. If you add a little exercise to your daily regimen and instead of eating three hamburgers for lunch, eat two and skip the milkshake, you'll lose that nine pounds in no time."

He knew her plan was sensible, but he was angry that his V8 engine was turning into a V6. "I'm not fat."

"Who said you were?" Jessica had never seen someone so upset over a few extra pounds. She had gained a few pounds over the years, but her doctor had told her that her weight was the right weight for her. She had been too thin when she was younger and now she had something to fight with if she ever really got sick. "You look great to me. You're the one going on and on about his weight. You don't see Booth having a cow about his weight. I've seen him painfully thin and I've seen him heavier and robust. That time he was so thin he looked like a kid could knock him over was just scary. Everyone has weird weight changes especially as they get older. Cut back about twenty percent of your food consumption, jog when you can and maybe hit the gym with me on the weekends. Either you'll lose the nine pounds or you won't. This may be the new you and you need to accept that. I did when my body changed . . . Buy a new suit and see what happens."

She was practical and perhaps that was what he needed at the moment. Someone practical. "Yeah, I guess you're right . . . I just thought I'd always be like this."

"Life is change, Aubrey." Jessica stepped into the room and once she was closer to her husband, she placed her arms around him. "You are not fat, Superman. You're maturing and like a fine wine, your body shows it." She kissed him and once they parted, she slapped his butt. "Dinner is ready . . . baked zucchini . . . salad and some baked chicken . . . I added some extra spice to the chicken just the way you like it. Maybe you can sweat off the pounds."

He pulled her against his body. "I know of a better way to burn off calories."

"I'll bet you do."

Oooooooooooooooooooooo

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