A/N: I give up on predicting when this story will end. It should be soon, but having to type one-handed a lot of the time, plus being busy with end-of-year school business, is keeping me from being as productive in terms of writing as I'd like to be. Thanks for sticking with me in spite of the delays, and for continuing to leave such kind, supportive reviews.
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Brennan woke up slowly, eyes blinking in the shallow light as she tried to place her surroundings.
"Morning."
She turned toward the unexpected voice and found Booth fully reclined in the driver's seat, arms tucked comfortably behind his head.
"How long was I asleep?"
"Relax, Bones." He yawned and stretched comfortably before sitting up. "You went down about 30 minutes outside of DC."
She looked around at the violet-hued landscape. They were in a parking lot surrounded by undulating sand dunes covered in tufts of scraggly grass. "We missed the sunrise. Why didn't you wake me?"
Booth shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck. "You probably haven't slept much the last couple weeks. We'll catch the sunrise another day."
The windows were partially rolled down, allowing a crisp breeze to drift in. Booth had draped his coat over Brennan as she slept, and she pulled it tighter around her shoulders.
"Where are we?"
He unlocked the doors and pushed his open, letting in a rush of cool salt air. "Connemara Beach. Maryland."
Brennan's groggy senses finally picked up on the roar of surf nearby.
"Wanna give me a hand here?" Booth called from the back of the SUV, his voice muffled.
She unbuckled her seatbelt and stepped outside, rolling her shoulders to work out the kinks. Booth stuck his head out of the trunk sideways and scowled.
"Shoulda known better than to buy cheap ass gear from a gas station."
She maneuvered so she could see under the seat, where he was once again glaring, but all she could make out was a tangle of what looked like twine. Booth yanked on an invisible end somewhere on his side, making the entire mess slide sideways but having no other discernible impact.
"Stop," Brennan ordered, elbowing him aside. "What are these strings attached to?"
"It's supposed to be a surprise," he whined.
She began to examine the snarls. "Can we just cut them?"
"No! That'd ruin everything."
"It would help if I at least knew what I'm working towards." She located the terminus of one string and began to feel her way forward from it again, pausing to carefully unravel various snags that had caught on the nuts and bolts which held Booth's backseat into place.
"They're kites." Booth rocked the entire SUV as he sank down a few inches away from Brennan's workspace.
Brennan waited for the movement to subside and then continued, operating more by feel than by sight. "Kites?"
"Yeah." He sounded deflated. "I didn't figure the spools would come unwound so easily."
"Why kites?" Once accustomed to the task at hand, her fingers worked quickly and accurately, moving from one knot to the next as systematically as she catalogued bones.
"Parker had this thing when he was a kid. He was obsessed with kites—thought that if he ran fast enough, they'd pick him up and carry him as high as an airplane so he could wave at the people inside."
The scientist grinned at the image, however absurd. "He is a very imaginative child."
"Yeah … There was this one day when Rebecca and I really ripped each other to shreds and we didn't realize Parker was awake and listening. I guess he was about 3 then. It was my weekend and when I went to check on him, he grabbed onto me and wouldn't even say anything. He just kept crying and crying." Booth butted his head against the back seat. "I couldn't get him to calm down, so I finally just got in the car and drove with him on my lap. We kinda wound up here by default. I got the kites out of the back and he just took off running." His tone became soft, as it often did when he was talking about Parker and he laughed ruefully. "He told me he was going to catch the sun this time for sure, and ride it all the way onto a plane. I don't know. It was a good day. I thought maybe … y'know … you might need one of those." Booth shrugged his shoulders a little, obviously embarrassed. "Pretty stupid, huh."
"It's not stupid." Feeling the last knot slip free, Brennan slid backwards, towing the untangled string with her slowly so it wouldn't catch again. "It's a very unique idea, Booth, even if I fail to see how flying a kite will erase my fear of a positive diagnosis." Two turquoise paper diamonds emerged from the recesses of the SUV, a little dusty, but none the worse for the wear.
"It won't erase anything," Booth acknowledged, picking up one of the kites and standing up. "But maybe it'll help you forget for just a little bit?"
"It's unlikely, but I do appreciate the sentiment." She got to feet, examining her own kite critically. "I haven't done this since I was seven. Are you certain these are built aerodynamically? It would seem the weight of the paper is too—"
"They'll fly." Booth slammed the trunk shut and locked the rest of the doors with a loud beep. "Don't turn this into a science experiment, Bones. Just have fun with it."
"Science is fun for me," she protested, following him toward the gap in the dunes.
Brennan paused to enjoy the view as they crested the small rise. The sun was still low in the sky, barely visible above a cluster of pinkish gray clouds on the horizon. Small white waves drifted into shore in a pleasingly symmetrical foam-green configuration. Sand pipers scuttled across the sand each time a wave retreated, searching for small sea creatures that might have been uncovered in its wake. It was comical to watch them scuttle backwards frantically every time another wave started ashore, just barely outracing the waters before turning around and starting the same dangerous activity all over again. Irritable seagulls dipped and soared close by, clamoring loudly for their first snack of the day and obviously hoping that she and Booth were planning on providing hors d'oeuvres, at the very least.
"Any day now, Bones …"
She turned her attention back to her impatient partner. Wind ruffled his hair and she had to smile at the enthusiastic glint in his eyes.
"This is far from routine for me, Booth. I'm not very spontaneous."
"That's why you have me." He reached over and nudged her shoulder lightly. "Just don't expect beach love making, Bones. Sand gets in all the wrong places."
Brennan grinned at his atypically suggestive comment. "It sounds like you're speaking from experience."
"Spring Break memories. Tiny beach towel …girl thrashing underneath me, kicking sand every which way … and that was far from the dumbest thing I did."
"What if the girl is on top instead?" she inquired mischievously, enjoying this new side of him.
"Never tried," Booth replied pointedly. "Once was plenty, so don't get any ideas, Bones." He lofted his kite lightly into the air, then caught it again. "The breeze is great! These babies should intercept any passing airplane. Just kind of toss it high enough that the wind catches it, then start running."
"A more practical approach would be to allow the wind to lift the kite and unspool the thread to a certain length, before beginning any kind of forward motion."
"It's not about being practical." Booth tossed his kite into the air a second time. "Tell you what, Dr. Efficiency. First person to reach the mile marker wins." The wind quickly caught the diamond and began to pull it upwards, even as Booth started running.
"Wait!" Brennan called after him. "Wins what?"
"Everything!" he yelled back, already several yards away.
She didn't enjoy losing any kind of competition, even if the prize was unconfirmed.
Brennan belatedly turned her back to the wind and threw the kite upwards. For a moment, the turquoise diamond lifted upwards, then came crashing down onto the beach again as the breeze unceremoniously changed directions and dropped it. She tried again, with similar results. In the distance, Booth's mocking laughter drifted back towards her.
"Come on, Genius! Where's your magic mojo now?"
"There's no such thing as magic!" she yelled back. "And even if there was, I fail to see how that would have anything to do with the basic aerodynamics required to master kite flight!"
"Looks like I've got a better grasp of those 'basics' than you do," he teased, deliberately making his kite dip low and then guiding it back upwards just before it hit the gound.
After a third failure, Brennan adjusted her position so that she was standing as Booth had been. It was aerodynamical impractical, but the wind seemed to take her partner's side as it caught the kite and actually held it upright for a minute. She took a few steps and began to build up speed when the tension on her string suddenly lessened. Turning, she saw the kite dive back toward the beach.
"Booth!" she yelled in frustration as she caught the kite just before it hit the ground. "Something is wrong with my kite."
Arrogant grin plastered across his handsome face, he nevertheless turned around and jogged back towards her, towing his successfully launched kite behind him.
Stepping behind her, he readjusted her grip on the spool, positioning her fingers so they were on either side, rather than directly on top of it. "Don't hold onto the line so tightly. It's not a surgical clamp. A little pressure's all you need to control the direction and speed of the string. See?"
Irritated at her lack of success at such a simple endeavor, Brennan still found herself grinning as Booth helped her get the device aloft, and ran alongside her for several feet while she got the hang of guiding the string. He let go and she laughed, feeling a childish, happy exuberance as her kite finally began to vie with his for altitude.
"All right! Let's go catch some planes."
"There aren't any planes," she pointed out unnecessarily. "And even if there were, our kites would not attain the necessary height to intercept an airliner."
Booth took off at a fast jog ignoring her scientifically pertinent comments and Brennan stood watching him, enjoying the play of his large muscles under his shirt and the wind ruffling his thick hair. They'd frequently raced in the parks near the Jeffersonian, so she knew she was more than a match for his speed. The kite was simply an additional variable to factor in.
Mentally debating the statistical probability of changing Booth's mind about beach sex, she quickly pulled even with him.
"Slow down," he warned, giving her a sideways glance. "Your kite will get tangled with mine."
She ignored him and ran faster, laughing for no reason other than that the activity was childish and unproductive and so altogether innocent that it made her remember happy childhood days before science replaced her parents as a constant in the world. That, plus, Booth was racing alongside her laughing too, and his wide grin was always infectious.
"Nice try, but no cigar, Bones." Booth put on a burst of speed.
She dodged a horseshoe crab in her way. "Anybody who smokes would have difficulty kite flying due to the damage to lung tissue."
Unexpectedly, Booth veered sideways and went running straight for the ocean, the tail of his kite streaming behind him.
"What are you doing?" Brennan stared as he plowed straight into the small waves, all the way up to his ankles.
"C'mon, Bones!" He waved with his free hand. "Water's fine."
"I'm wearing jeans …"
"So am I." Booth jogged out a little farther, until the green froth lapped at his knees. "Tell you what, Bones. You catch me, and I might reconsider … you know …"
She needed no further convincing. The water was surprisingly strong as she waded out into it, looking back every now and then to check and see that her kite was still aloft.
Booth moved further back, so his thighs were now soaking wet, the wet denim clinging to them appealingly. "That's no way to win a bet, Bones. Take it from an expert—you're gonna have to go deep …"
An unfamiliar imp rose inside Brennan. She took a deep breath and dove forward, still clutching her kite with one hand as with the other she parted the waves in a clumsy dive. Taken off guard, Booth squawked and went backwards as she went for his knees. Brennan used both her forward momentum and the rush of an outgoing wave to propel her further still, until she was literally on top of Booth, who now thrashed spluttering beneath her, somehow still managing to cling to his kite.
She giggled and wrapped her legs around him. Her chest stung with the salt water. It was possible that her stitches had ripped again, but the situation was so out of the norm for her that she couldn't help it. Just for a moment, she felt beyond the specter that had haunted her for two weeks.
"You did this on purpose," Booth accused, somehow managing to leverage himself upright while clinging both to her and his kite. "You knew I was going to win."
Brennan plastered herself against his damp t-shirt. A chuckle escaped her, and she didn't try to contain the ones that followed in its wake. "If you are averse to beach sex, perhaps an ocean tryst would be more to your liking?"
Booth snorted and dropped backwards into the water, simultaneously releasing his kite. Brennan barely had time to take a deep breath before he hit the glassy surface with the full force of his back, sending up a giant wave. She rolled over onto her back still laughing, and looked up at the pale gray sky.
"Look at it go," Booth said beside her, his large body rising and falling languidly with the motion of the waves.
His kite had risen with remarkable speed and was now alarming a curious flock of seagulls who had come to investigate this aerial intruder.
Brennan released her own kite and watched it rise alongside Booth's, further unsettling the birds.
"Booth?"
He kicked his legs just enough to stay in place. "Huh."
"If I die, are you going to bring flowers to my grave?"
She knew from his long silence that she had ruined the moment, and made an attempt to ameliorate the situation.
"I'm not saying I'm going to die. I mean, we're all going to die, of course, but there's no evidence to suggest yet that my death will be premature or the result of breast cancer. I just wouldn't want you to waste your time or money on a societally prescribed ritual that would ultimately be meaningless, given my nonexistence—"
"First of all, you would never be non-existent." Booth dropped his legs so that he was now treading water directly in her line of sight. "You existed, Bones. Your presence is known to the whole world because of your books, your studies, the faces you've helped restore to people—you'll live on, even in death. You will always be existent to me, because I knew you. I know you." His brows knit together and he waved his hands agitatedly, churning up water around them. "I'd take you flowers. I'd have whole conversations with you, and they wouldn't be meaningless. Now can we agree not to talk about you dying until we at least know whether or not you're even sick?"
Brennan dropped her own legs so she was vertical and reached out to smooth a wet lock of hair from his face. The salt water glittering in her eyes wasn't entirely a product of the ocean. "I prefer kites. If you insist on carrying out such a concrete, ritualistic memorial, I would prefer it to at least symbolic of a moment we spent together happily."
Booth's face twisted and he blinked hard. "Okay. Kites. And if I go first, it's pie."
"Pie?"
"Diner's best, on a paper plate. Don't forget the fork and napkin."
The whole conversation was absurd, but she smiled. "Deal."
He reached beneath the waves and grabbed her waist, lifting her onto his hips once again. Brennan leaned in and returned his kiss almost before he started it. It was salty and sweet, and some of the kite's innocence still lingered in between them when they finally made their way out of the ocean. They walked back to the SUV in a comfortable silence, fingers tightly interlaced, shoes squelching in a carefree, soggy rhythm.
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Next chapter: Hotel hijinks of sorts.
PS: I don't have the energy to do my usual meticulous research, so the destination in this chapter was fictional, though it is loosely based on Assateague.