Thanks for the great reviews for the last chapter :) . As promised, this one is extra long. And packed with sadness and melancholy, for your reading pleasure. Enjoy!

CHAPTER SIX

"I suppose I shouldn't get attached to you."

It had been a week since Brennan had told Angela, and for the first time in a very long time she had taken a personal day off work. She didn't know why exactly, but waking up that morning and lying in bed, it had felt right. Brennan had been absently running her hands over her stomach, and had been startled to feel a bump so tiny that she was sure now that she had imagined it. I had just woken up! I should not be showing at ten weeks. But at the time, she had sat up, shocked, and ran to the mirror to check. And for a few moments, standing barefoot in her bathroom with her tank top up under her breasts, Temperance had been so sure she could see something. And as she felt the familiar tingling of tears behind her eyes as she stared at herself, she knew that she wouldn't be able to focus on work today.

"Not yet, anyway. I'm sure I'll become very much attached to you if I make the decision to let you stay in there for the full nine and a half months, I can promise you that. I know your inner ear hasn't even started forming so it's irrational of me to think you can hear me. Still," She shrugged. "It can't hurt, right? I've done extensive research on pregnancy, I'll have you know. And a lot of websites tell me that speaking to the baby, even if it can't hear me, is very therapeutic."

"If you could hear me at all, and if you had basic vocabulary skills, you might be wondering why I'm reluctant to keep you."

"It's nothing personal, really, it's not. I just…" Brennan sighed and rolled her eyes at the ceiling, wondering why she was even doing this. This pregnancy was really throwing her off her game… "I just never really wanted children."

"I could be a relatively good mother to you, I think. I'm financially stable. I've been told I have a protective streak, which would be conducive to taking care of a child. I'm also extremely smart, and I'm sure I'd be able to pass that on to you. You'd be very successful in life," She smiled brightly then, rubbing her stomach, but the smile fell off her face quickly, replaced by a confused frown. "But…It's the more affectionate aspects of parenting that I'm not comfortable with. Don't get me wrong," She started, and then paused again. Oh God, it can't even hear me… But Brennan continued, unable to stop herself from voicing the thoughts aloud. "I'd love you. I'm not incapable of that, no matter how frigid or unfeeling people think I am," Her voice cracked a little, and as she felt the uncomfortable wetness of tears rolling down her neck, she wondered how long ago she had started crying. "I would love you very much."

"My parents, your grandparents…They left me when I was a teenager. And my older brother, Russ, he left too. I don't put much stock in psychology," She sniffled. "But I can understand that my…Shortcomings in social and personal situations may stem from being…From being…Abandoned at a young age. I can understand how that would be possible, even…Even if psychology is…" She drew in a deep breath of air and exhaled, but it ended up coming out more like a sob. "Psychology is unpredictable and, and…And uncertain. You should know that," Brennan patted her stomach, her voice soft and teacher-like.

"And you should also know that despite how much I would love you, how much I do love you," She admitted. "All children deserve more than a cold, emotionally distant parent. I would never be able to show you affection in normal ways, in ways that other parents do, and I don't want to put you through that. I would never be able to…To take you out for ice cream just for the sake of it. Booth does that with Parker, sometimes. I know because he told me. He's such a good father," She choked at the image of her partner and sat up, trying to calm herself. Her breath was coming in short gasps now, and tears were rolling down her face more quickly than she could wipe them away. "I would never be able to cook you your favorite dinner for no reason other than the fact that I love you, because I just don't do those types of things."

"My mom used to do that," Brennan whispered after being silent for a few minutes.

She lied back against the couch again, forcing herself to take in deep, slow breaths and finally putting a stop to the tears.

"That's why."

-----

A few hours later she woke up in the same position to a loud, unrelenting knocking on her door. Groaning, she sat up and put a hand to her forehead, trying to rub away the stuffiness she felt in her head. Another insistent knock and Brennan stood up, walking towards the door.

She was just a few steps away from it when she felt the sudden lurch of her stomach and the bile rapidly rising up her throat. Temperance gulped and brought a hand to her mouth, running to the bathroom and throwing up her breakfast into the toilet bowl. Early that morning, when she had still been feeling something other than gloomy and miserable, she had taken a bit of time to make herself pancakes. Seeing them now, inside the porcelain bowl, she wondered why she had even made the effort.

The knocking at the door was now joined by a frantic voice. "Bones, if you don't open the door right this second I will break it down, I swear to God!"

"I'll be right there!" She shouted, her voice croaky from all the crying earlier.

"Where the fuck are you, Bones?! I'm going to kill you when I see you, I swear! Open the door now!" Booth continued, obviously not hearing her hoarse yelling.

Brennan sighed and stood up shakily, grabbing her a washcloth and wiping her mouth while flushing the toilet. She walked quickly into the living room, ignoring the fact that she was dressed only in plaid pajama bottoms and a thin white top, knowing that if she didn't open the door soon Booth would kick it down.

"What do you want?" She asked briskly, throwing open the door.

"What do I want?!" He walked past her into the apartment and looked at her incredulously. "Where the hell is your cell phone, Bones? And why did you take so long to open the door?! I was worried sick!"

"And I was actually being sick, emptying my stomach into the toilet bowl. I don't understand what I've done to give you the impression that you're allowed to come over at any time and pummel my door while screaming out in the hallway. I have neighbors, you know," She threw down the washcloth and walked back into the bathroom to brush her teeth. The bathroom door was left open, and Booth stood at the doorway looking at her.

"I'm sorry. I was just worried," He said, watching her spit out the toothpaste into the sink and then rinse her mouth with water. "You never take days off work."

She nodded, her anger fading at his soft concern. Mood swings, her still-annoyed mind thought.

"I just…" She shrugged, walking out and heading into her bedroom. "I just didn't feel like going in today. Did you need me for a case?"

He sat on her unmade bed while she disappeared into the walk-in closet.

"No. I just wanted to see if you were okay. So, morning sickness finally kicking in, is it?"

"Yes."

"Was this the first time?"

"Yes."

"Are you still feeling sick?"

"A bit."

Booth sighed, annoyed at her vague answers. He lied back on the bed, his legs still dangling over the edge.

"Do you want me to go out to the drugstore and pick you up something?"

Brennan walked out and frowned as she stared at him, sprawled out on her bed.

"No, that's alright," She shrugged and lied down next to him, shifting up so that she was lying fully in the bed and his head was level with her stomach. "I'm better."

"Good. So, what did you do today? Besides being sick?"

"Nothing really. I had breakfast. Then I just…" Brennan paused, blushing.

"What?" Booth asked curiously.

"I…I talked a bit. To the baby."

"Really?" He rolled over and put his chin in his hands, facing her. "It can hear you?"

"No, I just…I read that it can be…Beneficial. Soothing. For me. I thought I'd try."

"What did you say?"

"I…"

He sensed her reluctance to tell him and quickly said something else. "Did you talk to it about me?"

"I mentioned you and Parker," Brennan confessed. "I said you were a good father."

Booth smiled softly at her and nodded. "Thanks, Bones."

"So what else did you say about me?" He grinned after a few seconds of silence.

"Nothing," She chuckled. "Why would I talk about you so much?"

"Well, I'll be a big part of the baby's life, you know."

"I suppose."

They both ignored the fact that they weren't even sure it would get that far.

"And Parker, too. They're gonna be almost like siblings, our kids. It's gonna be great."

She smiled and nodded. "Parker will be a good older brother. He's a great boy."

"We could take them places together. I could take them to football and hockey games," He suggested excitedly. "And you could take them to the boring museum places. Parker loves that," Booth rolled his eyes. "I think he's spent too much time at the Jeffersonian."

"Hey, museums are not boring!"

Booth chuckled and nodded. "I guess not all of them. You know what you should get? One of those baby carrying things," He gestured to his chest. "Those things that strap on, you know? I think those are great. Then it would be easier to carry stuff. You'll have to carry a lot of stuff, with a baby. Like a diaper bag, and your own bag too."

"I don't want to carry a diaper bag," She wrinkled her nose.

"I could carry the diaper bag for you, when I'm with you," He nodded. "The guest room would make a great nursery, you know. It's very well-lit, and it's close to your bedroom…You wouldn't have to get a new place. This is a great place."

"I do like this place," Brennan agreed. "There's that crevice in the wall of the guest room, the one opposite to the window? It would be a good place for a crib, I think."

"Yeah, it would," He smiled. "You should paint it, though. White is boring. Maybe green – Green is pretty gender-neutral, right? Or maybe orange. Light orange."

"I like both of those," She thought for a moment. "Maybe it could be both. Green and orange stripes. What do you think?"

"It's great. We could ask Angela to help. She's good with the painting stuff, right? Maybe we could ask her to do a design over the crib. The baby's name, or some sort of drawing…"

"Yeah…"

And if they were a little bit startled by the fact that they were acting as if the baby was theirs instead of half-Mark Gaffney – then they didn't let it show. They just drifted off, staring at the ceiling, and almost at the same time they both realized that it might never come to that. Because in just a little over a month the baby might not be here anymore, and life would be back to normal. And there would be no taking the kids to games or museums, and no buying cribs, and no painting the guest room and asking Angela for help. Nothing.

Okay, maybe the bit in the beginning with her talking to the baby was a little out of character? It felt very right to me, though…And everyone is out of character in pregnancy; all those hormones dancing around. Anyway, she'll make her decision soon, don't worry. I just want to explore this uncertainty a bit more – it's fun (in a depressing way). Reviews, please? Thanks for reading!