(The Teacher in the Books)

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I don't own Bones.

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"If 'Bone of Contention' was in the clearance section of that bookstore, then what about the books that were published before that one?" Brennan was feeling betrayed. She had written books that had sold millions of copies and yet she had found her book 'Bone of Contention' in the clearance aisle of an abandoned bookstore. "'Bred in the Bone', 'Cross Bones', 'Red Tape, White Bones' they were all on best seller lists. Each of them were on the New York Times Best Sellers list. Are they on the clearance aisle of some bookstore too?"

His wife was clearly agitated, but Booth wasn't sure what he could do about it. As far as he knew all authors had books that eventually ended up on the clearance rack. "Well, it's been five years since that book came out." Her eyes were boring into him and now Booth had wished he had kept his mouth closed. "Come on Bones. You know that with new books coming out all the time, the book sellers have to be careful about inventory. If the book has been out for that long and sales are down, they have to get rid of the excess inventory to make room. That's just what happens."

Though Booth was making sense and she knew that books ended up on the clearance aisle for a reason, she had never considered her books being relegated to such a fate. "'Bone of Contention' was an international best seller. I sold millions of copies in Japan alone . . . It just seems to me that there are still people out there who haven't read it yet."

"That's probably true, but it's all about space on the bookshelves." Tired of the conversation, Booth left the living room and entered the kitchen. Hungry, he found his package of Double Stuff Oreo Cookies and placed six on the counter. After the package was back in its secret hiding place, he grabbed a beer from the fridge.

"I know where you keep your cookies." Brennan found it amusing that Booth felt he had to hide his cookies. "If I want one, I know where to look."

The refrigerator door firmly closed, Booth grabbed his cookies and walked past Brennan who was standing in the doorway, back into the living room. "I'm not hiding them from you. I'm hiding them from Christine. She ate half of them before I figured out my hiding spot had been found. That's why I have a new hiding place."

Curious, Brennan followed Booth back into the living room and sat on the couch next to him. "How do you know I didn't eat them? I like cookies."

"You like peanut butter cookies. You hate cookies that have cream filled centers." Booth popped one of the cookies in his mouth. "More for me."

"They are not cream filled cookies, Booth." Annoyed with Booth's eating habits, Brennan pointed out some facts about his beloved Oreos. "I don't know the exact recipe but I can tell you that it is not cream. It's mainly powdered sugar, vanilla extract, granulated sugar and vegetable shortening. No cream. It is not cream filled."

He knew that his partner was trying to turn him off on the cookies, but he wasn't taking her seriously. Another cookie in his hand, Booth waved it in front of Brennan's face. "You can't ruin it for me. I don't care if it's cream or not. It's the best part of the cookie."

After he ate the second one, he leaned back and his expression became somber. "Look, I know you're upset about your book being discounted, but you're not alone. The other day I picked up a Steven King novel in the discount aisle in Barnes and Nobel and I also got a copy of a Morse mystery by Colin Dexter. It was half price. Colin Dexter, Bones. No one is impervious."

"Colin Dexter is dead. He doesn't have any new books being published." Brennan was still writing books and her sales told her that she was still popular.

"Well, Stephen King isn't dead, so there's nothing wrong with my analogy." Sipping some of his beer, Booth wanted to watch some television, but he knew it would be useless to turn it on if Brennan was still upset. "It all hinges on consumer demand. You're a best seller of murder mysteries. You sell millions of copies every time a new book comes out, but eventually all of your fans have bought a copy and sales start to lag. Bookstores can't stock a lot of copies of every book out there. They have to make money and that means they have to push your new books at your fans and try to interest new readers in trying your older books to make new fans. Once the novelty of a new book has worn off, they can only keep a couple of copies on the shelves and move on to the next best seller. It's the way things work . . . It's not personal, Bones. You're not being singled out."

Though she wanted to argue that Booth was wrong, Brennan knew that what he was saying was true. It was humiliating that her books eventually fell out of favor, but there were only so many books that her fans could buy and once that market was saturated, there was nothing that could keep her book on top. "I know I'm not . . . Why did you buy a Stephen King book? I thought you hate horror books."

"I do, but not because I'm afraid to read them, Bones." Annoyed, Booth popped another cookie in his mouth and chewed it slowly to give him time to come up with an explanation. "I like science fiction, but I don't like creepy stories. They don't make me afraid. I just don't like them. Everyone is entitled to their likes and dislikes."

"What book did you buy?" Brennan had seen the bag from Barnes and Nobel but she hadn't opened it. She liked to give Booth as much privacy as she could.

"The Stand. Someone told me it's science fiction, so I thought I'd give it a shot." Washing his cookie down with beer, Booth placed the bottle back on the coffee table. "Aren't you getting ready to publish a new book soon?"

Taking one of Booth's cookies, Brennan opened it and licked the cream out before answering. "Yes, it's going to be published in July . . . My publisher is excited and expects to outsell my last book. He sent a case of Cabernet Sauvignon from the Caymus Vineyards. I put the box in the food pantry on the top shelf."

Chewing another cookie, Booth hurried and swallowed it. "A case?" Booth ignored his last cookie lying on the coffee table. "Why didn't you tell me? We could have had that instead of Oreos and beer?"

Since Booth didn't want the last cookie, Brennan picked up the cookie and replied before popping it in her mouth. "I'm pregnant Booth. I can't drink wine . . . I don't know why I'm eating these Oreos. I don't like Oreos."

Placing his hand on Brennan's baby bump, Booth smiled. "Maybe the little guy likes Oreos Bones and yeah, we'll wait until the baby is here and then open the wine. Want some more Oreos?"

"No, thank you." Brennan felt her cheeks turn pink, but she knew that she needed to be honest with her partner. "Booth, I was the one that ate your Oreos, not Christine."

"You did?" Thinking it over for a moment, Booth shrugged his shoulders. "That's okay. I know where you're hiding your peanut butter cookies. I ate a few last night before I went to bed."

Slightly outraged, Brennan shook her finger at him. "I will change my hiding place. Leave my cookies alone."

"You know, we could just buy more than one package of Oreos and peanut butter cookies and share them." Booth leaned over and kissed her finger, smiled and leaned closer kissing her on the lips. "We're not poor. You're a famous author and you sell millions of books every year, discounted or not. I think we can afford extra cookies."

"Yes, I believe you're right." Returning his kiss, Brennan knew that she shouldn't have let the idea of her books being discounted upset her. She was still famous and her books were still sought after. "Even at a discount, I do make money on my books."

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