From Bad to Worse

AN: I will not continue to be this much of a pushover! But here it is early. I rewatched Woman in Limbo after I had written in the family and realized that for some strange reason, I imagined Booth as growing up in some stereotypical southern small town, with pageants and football. So .. sorry. Buyt I decided to continue the way I'd been going, since I have no idea what Pittsburghians (?) are like, and I just basically wrote characters for Brennan to interact with. Even if Booth's mom doesn't seem like the kind of woman who would write jingles.

They were in the car, sharing a comfortable silence in which Seeley contemplated the suckiness (That definitely wasn't a word. Oh God.) that was his life of late and Brennan ate and thought about her book. She was having trouble with her Kathy's growing relationship with her partner Andy. Romance wasn't really her thing. Then the phone rang. They both patted their pockets.

"Mine." Booth said, opening it without checking the caller id. He regretted it instantly, but later would come to be grateful for the slip. "Booth." He sighed mentally. "Hi Mom."

"Dumpling, you haven't returned any of my calls. Is your answering machine broken?"

"Uh, no, Mom, I've just been really busy. With work. Lots of cases, you know."

"Well, I need to know how many people are coming so I can cook." He bit back a word he definitely didn't want to say to his mother as another car cut him off. "What? I can't hear you, sweetheart. Is this connection bad?"

"No, Mom. Sorry. I'm driving." He said quickly, before she could go off on phone companies.

"Oh, the roads today are filled with so many maniacs. I'm just glad-,"

"Me, too, Mom. Look, I'm sorry, but can I call you back? We're on our way to work."

"We?"

"Yes." He was fighting to remain pleasant.

"Well, is Parker coming this weekend?"

"Yes, Mom, he is."

"Wonderful! So there are three of you, then."

"No, Mom."

"Well, what is Rebecca doing?"

"Eating with her boyfriend, Mom. I told you. We haven't been together for a long time." Sort of true. He hadn't noticed Bones listening with interest to his side of the conversation. She grabbed the wheel when he tried to cross his fingers and almost lost control of the car.

"Booth!"

"Who is that?" he mentally cursed his mother's selective hearing.

"That's my partner."

"Well, bring her, Seeley."

"Uh – what?" the car skidded again. Behind them, horns blared.

"I'd like to live." Bones said snarkily and snatched the cell phone.

"I'm sorry, but Booth will have to call you back."

"Who is this?"

"Uh – it's Dr. Brennan." Booth rubbed his eyes, elbows on the wheel.

"That is it. I am driving home." Bones said, covering the phone.

"Well, dear, how about it?"

"Excuse me?"

"This weekend?"

"I don't understand." She looked blankly at Booth.

He snatched the phone back. "She doesn't want to go, Mom."

"Don't want to go where?" Mrs. Booth had lost her patience. Bones watched the grimace on Booth's face for six full minutes as he occasionally opened his mouth and then stopped.

"Okay, Mom. Here you go."

"Hello, Dr. Brennan." She cooed when Brennan, confused, took the phone from Booth. They got out of the car, having reached the crime scene (barely) alive. "Would you join us for dinner this weekend? My son is so hopeless sometimes." She laughed.

"Um – sure. Yes. Fine." She crouched by the remains and juggled the phone between her chin and shoulder as she put rubber gloves on. Booth barely saved it from landing in the maggot-laden body.

"We have to go, Mom. Sure. See you then. Yes, of course I'm looking forward to it. Love you too." He snapped it shut.

"Why did you do that?" he turned on Bones.

"What? I said I'd have dinner this weekend. I have dinner with you all the time. I don't understand the problem."

"How do I say this in a way you'll understand?" he put his hands on his hips and adopted a mocking sing-song voice. "Anthropologically speaking, in modern society, meeting the parents has certain connotations."

"That was good, Booth." She turned in surprise. "In that case, I'll just cancel."

"Oh na na na no. You don't cancel Thanksgiving Dinner at my mother's house. You can't."

"Oh, come on, Booth." She rolled her eyes. She was bent over the body again, but he could tell.

"Hey, you want to try, go ahead. She's a force of nature."

"Fine, then I'll eat dinner. That's what, two hours max? I think we can handle it."

"You said 'max.'."

"It's an abbreviation for maximum. Did I use it improperly?"

"No – I mean yes, just – whatever. Look, Thanksgiving Dinner does not take two hours. Thanksgiving Dinner takes four days."

"Booth."

"This is one of those culture things you're oblivious too. Thanksgiving is bigger than Christmas in my family. That's why I get Parker. Well, that, and Rebecca and what's-his-face seem pretty busy."

"I don't know what you mean." She said absently.

"Of course you don't. Look, Bones, you're stuck with us for the weekend and that means being nice to people and no work."

"What? I have to catch up at the Jeffersonian." She stood and faced him.

"Do I need to explain the concept of holiday?" he asked sarcastically.

"Do you two want some privacy?" one of the other agents asked with a chuckle. They turned and glared simultaneously.

"Shut up." Booth added.

"Yeah. Meeting the parents is a big step." Added someone else with a wicked grin.

"We'll finish this later." Booth got out through gritted teeth, turning her back to her work as she tried to explain that she and Booth were not a couple.