Chapter 38 Smile
A/N: Okay, folks, I must apologize. I got out of sync on the prompt list. My 'Taste' story is out of place, but trying to rearrange chapters could easily lead to my inadvertently deleting something, so I'm opting to let sleeping chapters lie. In case you're intrigued by the origin of such phrases as I am, 'let sleeping dogs lie' was a favorite saying of Sir Robert Walpole, British Prime Minister 1721-42. Also used by Geoffrey Chaucer, and in Proverbs. So it's much older than the American Deep South, which I had assumed was its starting point. This handy fact came from .com, a fascinating web place to waste a few minutes reading minutiae. For all your reviews, thank you so very much.
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Smiles. Temperance Brennan could give you all sorts of anthropological facts about the significance of smiles, the muscles employed by a human's face to produce a smile, the physiological benefits of smiling, and other scientific information. At one time in her life, science was about all the significance she attached to smiles. Yes, she'd had friends, and good grades and satisfaction from a high scoring term paper, lab report, or summer dig. So she had smiled sometimes during high school and college. But not often.
And not one of the body-encompassing, all-absorbing, soles of your feet to top of your head smiles like she had grown to love later on. Her favorite smiles in all the world came from Seeley Booth. His warm brown eyes would crinkle slightly, his lips and mouth would curve into a pleasing crescent shape. (Don't get her side-tracked by thoughts of how wonderful that mouth, those lips felt in a kiss…). His broad shoulder would shake in silent laughter, his warm hand might squeeze hers or Parker's or Christine's, his rock-solid abdomen might contract as he reached toward her for an embrace. When Booth smiled, he did so with his whole body. She didn't believe in souls, but she felt she could see the spirit and whole of the man through his observant and caring eyes.
Yes, she thought, Booth's smiles were probably her favorite. Followed closely by those from Parker, whose exuberant greetings and tight hugs had delighted her ever since she'd first met him that lab-quarantine Christmas. Parker's smiles had also comforted her while his father was involved with Hannah. He'd grinned at her when they came to use her apartment's swimming pool. His happy declarations of 'bestest friendship' in spite of other people's cluelessness had meant so much to his dad's lonely hurting partner. Even now, the young boy already shared his father's ability to read people, and sense their needs. (Except when Booth's romantic heart was distracting his famous gut.)
Brennan decided she'd have to enumerate her favorite smiles chronologically because she couldn't possibly rank their importance in her life. They were all vital, crucial, and significant to her. From the standpoint of time, Booth's had come first, then Parker's, then Pops', and then Christine's.
The old man could see right through people straight into what their mouths weren't saying but their hearts and minds were hiding. Her solo visits for dominoes and conversations with him kept her going when Booth was otherwise involved. Pops had smiled at her knowingly, empathetically, wisely. She missed him so much.
Christine's smiles were oh so most special. Baby grins and chortles, drowsy almost-off-to-sleep smiles, soft sated tummy-full-of Mommy's-milk smiles, bath-time glee, storybook joy…..so many variations of happiness shared in her little girl's life. More recently, Brennan cherished her smiles of proud accom-plishment as she gained on the milestones of growing up: art work carefully drawn, shoes painstakingly tied, chores proudly completed, pre-school work properly finished. All wobbly but as perfect as a child can reach.
Of course, she'd experienced and valued other important people's smiles too. From her nearly-sister Angela's, from Hodgins, her fellow scientist and quiet supportive friend, from Cam who'd been boss but became friend, from her various interns in pride and relief at finally gaining her approval, from Max and Russ who'd finally returned to her life, filling in some blanks from empty painful years, from Sweets who was irritating yet a part of her oddly-shaped family.
Temperance Brennan also smiled, to herself, realizing how full and rewarding her life had become. She'd had the fame and accolades of professional achievement and recognition and thought she was content. But now she knew what real contentment and happiness was; her life completed and her potential fulfilled by the addition of friends, love, family, and deep human connections.