Title: Baring It All
Author: Tom's gg
Chapter: 20/?
Chapter Title: Parents Just Don't Understand
Characters: Brennan/ Booth
Rating: M - Strong Sexual Content
Spoilers: None

I do not own the characters- that distinction belongs to FOX… but God I wish I did!

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Do you know how tough it is to write Booth's parents, since we know absolutely nothing about them. You'd think it would make it easier, huh. It's very counter intuitive. I hope you enjoy.

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They made it to Philadelphia at about 2 o'clock. Booth had called his mother to make sure his parents would be around, and she'd held lunch for them. This obviously annoyed his father who was apparently a man who appreciated the adherence to schedules, more than being a good host. He grumbled and complained as they came in the door, and practically herded them straight to the table.

Booth's mother calmed and admonished him much the same way you would a petulant three year-old, but you could see that they had a genuine affection for each other. It was also apparent that Booth had a deep respect for his father, and a much closer interpersonal relationship with his mother.

Booth had introduced her as 'his partner', but he'd done so with his arm wrapped around her waist as he held her tightly to him. His words said business, but his body language clearly demonstrated that he'd made a claim on her that went beyond that of the professional.

They had a light lunch of salad, fruit, and roast turkey sliced lean and served cold. Booth's father concentrated on the food like he hadn't been fed in days. He was a tall lean man, and you could see where Booth got those broad shoulders and well developed biceps from. He gave Booth monosyllabic answers or grunts to his attempts at conversation through most of the meal, until the pile on his plate began to diminish, and he became the interrogator.

He asked questions about their work and Booth's F.B.I. friends, some of whom they'd apparently met and gotten to know fairly well over the years. For just a second Brennan wondered why she'd never met them before in the three years she'd been his partner, but the thought was soon chased away by a question from his mother.

From his mother Booth inherited his extraordinary charm and those soulful eyes. Brennan imagined that if she could block all of the nicely structured feminine features that surrounded them, she could almost convince herself she was looking into Booth's eyes. Somehow this made her trust Booth's mother instinctively.

They talked about Philadelphia and the weather. She asked about their work, but in a way that said she didn't want too many details, because she didn't like to think about what her son did for a living.

Eventually the conversation turned to Brennan's books, and she admitted in a hushed tone that she'd read the first two. It was as if she didn't want anyone from the Junior League or The Club to know she read books like that; books with sex in them.

Brennan could barely contain her laughter, when she had the sudden realization as to why Booth had always been so reluctant to discuss sex, or anything of the physical nature. He certainly didn't have any inhibitions in the bedroom. She wondered for a moment what his mother would say if she knew that Booth was indeed the inspiration for the, oh so sexually exciting, Andrew Lister.

After lunch, Booth and his father disappeared out into the garage. Booth came over to plant a kiss on her forehead before leaving, and she reassured him she'd be fine. It was obvious that the Booth household had clearly defined roles for behavior amongst the sexes. As long as Booth didn't bring that sort of thinking back into their relationship, she could humor his parents for an afternoon.

After all… she'd been required to walk ten paces behind a man, and wear head coverings on recovery sites in the Middle East. She could certainly help with some dishes and speak one on one with Booth's mother while he did some sort of male bonding ritual in the garage with his father.

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Booth stood next to his father as he showed him his latest acquisition, a Smith and Wesson M1917 revolver. Booth's father had quite an extensive collection of antique firearms. It was one of his passions; restoring cars, antique weapons, and model planes, specifically fighter jets. These were the most important things in his life, his hobbies… and his family.

As he stood at his father's workbench, Booth looked up at the wall of photos and mementos. The wall held pictures of Booth and his brother Jared, their mother as a young female on the beach, the entire family camping in the Catskill Mountains.

Booth's father had never been an emotionally available man, but whenever Booth doubted his father's love, he'd just come out here, to his father's private place, and see the love reflected in each photo and memento.

Small plaster hand impressions nailed to the wall. Lopsided ashtrays, given as father's day gifts to a man who never smoked, that held positions of prominence on perfectly ordered shelves. Sports trophies from grade school, long ago abandoned for their bigger, shinier companions by his sons, which still meant the world to the father who had taught those sons to throw, and catch.

"This was Smith's conversion to the .45 ACP, since that's what was used by the military at that time." Booth's fathered handed him the handgun.

Booth examines the weapon in his hand. "It's in excellent shape for its age, which is impressive given so few of these survived the war."

"Yeah. I've contacted Smith & Wesson to try to track its history through its serial number."

Booth handed the weapon back to his father. "If you need any help prodding them for info, let me know. We spend a lot of time running down weapons, and I can twist a few arms that may be out of your reach."

Booth's father mumbled his appreciation as he placed the object back in its velvet lined box.

"She's a tall one," he remarked casually.

"Yep," Booth busied himself observing the carburetor his father had torn apart on his work bench at the moment; no doubt, a favor for a friend.

"Smart too."

"You have no idea," Booth chuckled.

"Seems nice enough."

"She's a remarkable woman," Booth replied. They may as well have been discussing the gun or the carburetor. Booth could only imagine how irritated Bones would be about being discussed like an object. Yeah, he could just hear that conversation with all its societal implications and misogynistic roots.

"Work and play… that's a tricky business."

Booth nodded. "We think we can handle it. No choice really," he sighed. "I'm in way too deep."

Booth's father just grunted his understanding. Though he was not a man prone to showing his emotions, he certainly knew what it was like to be under a woman's spell. Over forty years with the same woman and she continued to excite him. He was a lucky man… blessed.

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Brennan stood at the sink next to Booth's mother. Originally she'd refused Brennan's help with the dishes, but had finally relented. Brennan washed as Booth's mother dried and put away. It was no surprise that this kitchen wasn't equipped with an electric dishwasher. Booth's mom would probably take offense at the very idea of it. As if she couldn't keep her own home clean without such a high-priced, fancy gizmo.

"You make a cute couple," Booth's mom declared in a sudden change of topic.

"We do?" Brennan scowled, never really having given the thought of the aesthetics of their pairing a thought.

"Definitely," his mom assured. "My son is a wonderful man. Thoughtful, considerate, protective, charming- you have to watch out for that charm of his."

"That much I've learned," Brennan couldn't help the smile that creased her lips.

"He's always gotten away with murder, that boy, because of that damn charm of his.

There was a pause before his mother continued, and a hint of mischief trickled through her subtext.

"I've a feeling that you'll be someone who can rein him in a bit."

"Rein him in?" Brennan needed clarification, having no idea what context his mother was referring to.

"Keep him in check. Make him work for it. You know. It's never good when someone gets something without too much effort. It's good to have to work for the things you want in life. Seeley's father would say it's what keeps us honest."

Brennan was completely lost in this conversation. Booth was a completely honest individual, and he worked very hard. She knew his mother must have some meaning behind the message she was trying to convey, but Brennan just didn't feel comfortable enough to question her further.

"Well… he's a very good partner," Brennan finally replied. Her phone went off in the next room at that moment, and she had to excuse herself.

"Hey Ange'." She greeted her friend. The thought flicked through her mind that she wished Angela where here to play interpreter for her with Booth's mother. She was fairly certain Angela could speak the same language as people like her when need arise. Especially since conversations with Angela were sometimes just as cryptic.

"Hey Sweetie, where are you guys. Did you make it to the city yet?"

"Umm, No." Here it goes. Brennan hadn't really intended to tell Angela about this side trip immediately, but she also didn't like the idea of lying about their location. "We're in Philadelphia. At Booth's parent's house. Why? Did you find something?"

Brennan rushed the last two questions in an attempt to sideline the inhuman squeal she knew would be issuing forth through the phone at any moment. No such luck.

"Squeeeee… OH. MY. GOD. You met the parents. This thing has gone way beyond anything I'd hoped. Sweetie. I'm so proud of you. That's so… normal."

Brennan rolled her eyes, and her lips pulled in to a scowl of irritation. Angela could be so illogical at times. Why did she feel the need to apply such deep psychological meaning to the fact that they'd come by Booth's parents house when they were in the neighborhood.

The last thought came out as a protest. "We were in the neighborhood."

"Sure you were, Sweetie. Sure you were."

Brennan did not appreciate the self-satisfied giggle that came through the line any more then the unearthly squeal.

"Did you call for a reason Angela?" The wish for her friend to be there now long forgotten.

"I just wondered if you and Booth had a chance to look at that list of names I sent you?" Angela replied. All business; with just a hint of smug know-it-all best friend on the side.

"No," Brennan admitted. "We've been sort of busy. Did you find something?"

"Well, I sent the names over to Charlie like Booth asked-"

"You've talked to Booth today?"

"Well… no. He text me. Anyway. Charlie found sort of an interesting connection."

"What connection?" Brennan turned toward the sound of Booth, his father and mother coming in from the kitchen. The men had obviously come in from the garage as his mother had been finishing the dishes on her own. She could hear Booth asking about her whereabouts. She waved to him and indicated the phone, mouthing the word Angela.

"Does the name Manuel Cárdenas mean anything to you?"

"No…" Brennan replied. "Should it?"

"How about Lázaro Cárdenas?"

"Wasn't he the President of Mexico? Like in the thirties?" Brennan tried to recall her political history. "Seems to me he was quite a reformist."

"Yes. Well Manuel is his son. He also happens to be Andrew Romero's mother's father."

"Andy's grandfather is the son of a former Mexican President?"

Booth had come to stand by her. Normally she would have hit the speaker phone button, but with Booth's parents in the room she didn't think it was appropriate. You never knew what might come out of Angela's mouth, even when they were discussing business. Particularly when it came to Booth… and sex. She tilted the phone out so that he could listen at her shoulder.

"Yep." Angela confirmed. "Anyway, since you asked about what Andrew knew this morning, I thought you might be interested in this. This guys name was all over Charlotte's notes. We're about half way through the transcripts by the way. You guys should have them all by early tomorrow."

"Oh…" Angela remembered something else. "You should probably know that Andrew is the only male descendant left. Of Lázaro Cárdenas that is."

"Thanks Ange'" Brennan offered before she hung up. She quickly reiterated the pertinent facts he'd missed to Booth as his parents talked on the other side of the room. His eyebrow went up, and she knew his gut didn't like what it had just heard. She also knew there was no point discussing it in front of his parents.

Booth and Brennan rejoined his parents, and the foursome sat in the living room talking. Eventually Booth's mom pulled out the photo albums. Booth feigned embarrassment, but only showed any real discomfort when the string of girlfriends he'd had was commented on.

Booth glanced in Bones direction. He wanted to tell his parents that they were meeting his last girlfriend. That Bones was the woman that he intended to spend the rest of his life with, but he knew that would only make her uncomfortable. Not to mention open the Pandora's Box of their relationship.

What kind of future did their relationship have when she was determined not to get married, and he couldn't imagine wanting anything more than to spend the rest of his life with her. No… there were just too many unanswered questions to open that can of worms in front of his folks.

They ended up taking Booth's parents out to dinner at a local diner. Booth and his father shared the same love of pie. Brennan had to use every bit of self-control not to laugh out loud at the twin expressions that graced their faces while consuming the fruity desert.

When they returned to the house, Booth's mother begged them to stay the night, but Booth insisted they had to get to the city for an early meeting in the morning. Brennan knew they had no early meeting, and almost blurted that fact out, before it dawn on her that Booth didn't want to spend the night at his parent's home.

His parent's were gracious in their goodbyes to her, and extended an open invitation to come back at any time. She assured them she would, as she swung herself into the car to allow Booth time to make his final farewells.

They didn't speak until they hit the highway.

"Why didn't you want to stay?" Brennan challenged him. She'd have thought spending more time with his family would be appealing to him.

"Because my parents would never let us sleep together unless we were married, and I have no desire to sneak around my parent's house like a horny schoolboy with a crush in order to be with you."

Brennan considered his statement for a moment. "You mean no matter how long we were together as a couple… let say five years, they wouldn't let us sleep in the same bed under their roof?"

Booth shook his head aggressively. "No… you don't understand. Their roof, my roof, a hotel… they'd expect me to sleep in a separate room. They'd be devastated if I didn't."

"But you've lived with women before Booth. You have a son out of wedlock."

"Parker is a whole other ball of wax. Don't think that wasn't a miserable five months after I told them Rebecca was expecting and we'd decided not to marry. They'd never even met Rebecca up until then.

A long pause.

"They love Parker though. They've never let any of their disappointment in me spill over onto him.

Booth smiled.

"You should see my dad when he's around Parker. He's a completely different man. I've never seen him hug anyone but my mom as much as he does that boy."

You could hear the regret that stung his throat. A little boy's longing for physical reassurance from his unapproachable father. They both slipped into thought. Brennan was about to ask another question when he spoke again.

"And… for the record Bones… I never lived with anyone. Rebecca, Tessa, any of the others… they always had their own place. My parent's never met any of them but Rebecca… and that was because of Parker. I've never lived with a woman. Not yet any way."

Brennan scowled at him through her lashes at that last comment. Yet? Surely he didn't think she had any intention of complicating their lives like that.

"How many others?" She found herself saying.

Booth laughed. His hand reached across the console and caressed her thigh.

"None that counted," he assured. "None that mattered anyway. Not until today."

There was that damn charm his mother had warned her about. Her arms crossed over her chest and she refused to look at him. Determined not to let him off the hook so easily.

"That many huh?" she pouted.

"Not that many," Booth groaned. "Can we change the subject. How about we talk about Peter, or David, or Michael, or Sully."

The last name came out with particular venom. It never occurred to her that Booth may have been jealous of Sully… of any of those men. None of them had been anything more than sex and companionship. None of them had come close to meaning what he did to her.

Suddenly she realized how ridiculous her own jealousy was. What did it matter if there were 100 other woman. None of them had managed to keep him. He was sitting next to her. He intended to be with her tonight. He obviously even thought about sharing a future with her.

Brennan curled herself over the console so that she was practically sitting on his lap as he navigated the car down the interstate. Her lips pressed to his ear, it flicked out to trace the graceful shell.

"I've a better idea. How about we discuss what you're going to do to me when we get to the hotel.

Her fingers traced his lips as a soft moan of surrender issued from it.

"Start from the very beginning."

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This chapter is dedicated completely to my wonderous hubby. And is accompanied by a bit of advice. NEVER talk guns with a gun guy… it took over an hour to get those 4 bit of dialogue because I made the mistake of asking for his help once again. He did give me a hardy thumbs up on the garage memorabilia though. Two guesses where that comes from. Art imitates real life yet again. (Not that my wonderous hubby is a cold fish or undemonstrative... but there is no doubt when you look in his garage or office that he is a loving husband and father!)

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Will Smith - Parents Just Don't Understand

Another 80's flashback from me. The Fresh Prince. There is a hilarious video on YouTube by yllianos. LOL A Canadian TV show called Videos on Trial… I'd love to see this show!!