Booth watched the sand slip slowly through the hourglass to Sweets' right. Was it possible for the sand to move slower? He swore with each passing second it did. His leg bounced and every sound made him whip his head around toward the door in anticipation of her arrival.
"She'll be here." It wasn't clear whether he was reassuring Sweets or himself. "She said she would. She was just waiting for the body to be delivered to the lab." Sweets just stared at him as if he were trying to read his mind, or maybe his soul, trying to find some hidden meaning in everything he said or did. Booth hated that. He hated that and the fact that he was more than a little worried she'd have to take a look at that body and then something would catch her attention and then she'd lose track of time and he'd be stuck with Sweets for the whole session by himself. Pulling an old worn set of dice out of his pocket, he started rolling them in his hand, rotating them in a fluid pattern.
"I know, I don't think she'd miss a session. Do you think she won't come? Are you worried about that, Agent Booth?"
"No! No, look Bones said she'll be here, she'll be here. I trust her."
"Then why are you so anxious, Agent Booth? Are you worried about her?"
"No, alright, I'm not, I'm not anxious about anyt-"
"Sorry, I'm late." She burst through the door. A visible sense of relief washed over Booth. His eyes fell shut in a slow blink as he let out a long held breath. "The body was late and all my interns were off at a required doctorate program meeting at the university. I had to wait and sign for it myself." Sweets couldn't help watch Agent Booth rather than Dr. Brennan. The dice had stopped rotating at a frantic pace in his hand and his shoulders must have dropped several inches, a complete change in his mood.
At times these evening sessions proved tricky. Take tonight, for example, no interns, Hodgins home with his wife and newborn, Cam called to a Jeffersonian department heads meeting, leaving no one but Dr. Brennan to receive the body and sign for it, at least no one that she would trust to do it properly.
Dr. Brennan sat down next to Agent Booth, their interactions almost awkward as they settled next to each other. Sweets kept scribbling on his notepad, pretending not to watch them when, in fact, he was.
"So, did you two work on using those phrases this week like I asked you to?" They both stared blankly at him. "The 'I feel…' statements?" Wide eyes looked back at him. Bones tried desperately to hide the smirk of a smile beneath her fingers of one hand she'd brought up to cover her mouth, while a look of pure mischief flooded Booth's as he looked back and forth between her and Sweets.
"Yes." Booth answered quickly. "Yes, we did. So, what do you have for us today?" He slapped his hands together and rubbed them as if he were anxious to move forward, a little too anxious.
"First," Sweets looked at the pair sitting directly in front of him. "I want to hear how that went. Dr. Brennan, you used at least one I feel statement?" Responding to her silence, he prompted her. "When you do...I feel…?'"
"Hmmmm...yes." Dr. Brennan looked lost in thought.
"Can you tell me about one of those experiences?" His question hung in the air longer than it should have.
"Yes." She drew the word out, her intonation going up at the end in a questioning fashion. Her long pauses before each answer were getting awkward. Clearly, she was stalling and it was starting to annoy him.
"Just one experience, Dr. Brennan, any experience." Sweets doubted whether they'd actually done the exercises like he'd asked them to. Her avoidance could easily be her reluctance, near inability, to lie.
"I'm thinking." Booth's eyebrow raised and he fought the urge to smile. They'd been using Sweets' when you do...I feel... experience all week, but not how it was intended. He knew she was trying hard to come up with one that wasn't sexual in nature.
Passion. Need. Love. The tenderness, the softest touch, despite his strength and power. The feel of Booth's hands sprawled out across her hips greedily holding her body close to his. His strong, open kisses along her neck from behind. The thoughts sent a shudder through her body. Booth had a moment of panic knowing full well all her experiences were ones he would never want shared with anyone.
"Hey, I know, Bones. When you told me that you don't like it when I use, what did you call them? Colonialisms." Proud, definitive, knowing full well he had the wrong word, he said it to both provoke and distract. "Yeah, you don't like it when I use them because they make you feel dumb."
"Colloquialism, Booth, and I never feel dumb. I know my intelligence quotient. I am well aware of my superior intellect. However, when you use idioms and colloquialisms that I am not familiar with I feel…" She took in a clearly tense breath and let it out measured and controlled. "I feel less than adequate." Like the ding of the bell in a boxing match that set off a hefty back and forth banter between the two.
Now they were getting somewhere, Sweets thought. She didn't want to share the experience because she'd have to admit a fault. She never admitted faults or weaknesses, never.
"That's great." Dr. Brennan looked confused as Sweets interrupted the two. "No, really, Dr. Brennan that's great and exactly what I wanted to come from the experience. See how it opened a door, made it so you and Agent Booth could talk. It was a conversation starter not a conversation stopper." With that, he reached down and picked up a box setting it ceremonially on the coffee table between them.
"Legos? We're going to play with legos?"
"Cool, huh? Bet you never thought you'd have so much fun in partner's therapy, right?" His excitement was disturbing and both partners shot him a look of disbelief. Dr. Brennan immediately started complaining about the body waiting at the lab for her as Agent Booth went off about how his son played with legos. It took a few minutes but he got their attention. "Agent Booth, could you move that loveseat out of the way? You and Dr. Brennan need to sit on the floor for this one." Booth rolled his eyes but they both got up.
"I've got it, Bones." He shot her a look as she reached for the arm of the small couch opposite him to help him move it.
"I can help."
"I know you can but you don't need to, I've got it, Bones." His tone curt, his look knowing. "I'm just being a gentleman." He added under his breath.
"Look." Sweets pulled an already built structure out of the box, several of them remained inside. "You're going to sit back to back here on the floor. One of you will have the already built structure and the other one will have the loose box of Legos. The one that has the already built structure will have to give directions to the other." They were already settling on the floor anxious to get on with the activity. "This teaches communication skills, both how to be better at expressing information and listening to your partner."
Sweets had to admit they whizzed through the exercise faster and better than he thought they would. They settled into the activity, concentrated and working together seamlessly. Sweets had watched this for years, their moods switched remarkably fast. One minute, they could be fighting and the next completely pleasant like nothing had happened.
"I told you, Sweets, we don't need this. We communicate just fine."
"I know, I know but it's about expounding on those skills, growing as a couple." The look of panic in their eyes almost knocked Sweets over as they launched immediately into full-on denial.
"We're not a couple." Her fretful but insistent tone aroused Booth's need to protect her.
"Stop. Just stop. You're out of line, Sweets." Booth practically lunged at him stopped only by Bones' hand as it came to rest on his arm.
On top of it all, Sweets was frantically correcting himself, trying to be louder than the combination of Dr. Brennan and Agent Booth. "Partners, I meant partners!"
From boxing match to cage fighting. Sweets had completely lost control of the session. When the dust had settled everyone was tense and unhappy, especially Sweets.
"Your assignment this week is to teach your partner something new, preferably more than one thing. Something you can do together, away from work, something personal and important to you that the other person doesn't already know about. One of those activities I want to be present fo-"
"You want us to go on a date?" There was outrage in Booth's voice. "And you're tagging along?" Booth was up and pacing.
"An outing, Agent Booth, not a date. You're going to teach her about something that's important to you and she's going to teach you." He stood his ground literally standing up to give directions. "Just call me with the date, the place, and the time." Sweets' jaw was set. His eyes dared Booth to take a stand against him. They were locked, staring like that for what seemed like an eternity. It reminded her of their fight over talking about Hannah in the stuck elevator earlier in the year. Her eyes went back and forth between the two men until Booth spoke through gritted teeth.
"Fine."
Sweets looked away as they moved to leave completely missing Booth's hand laying low on her back as he ushered her out of his office.
She waited until they got to the SUV before she started lecturing him on hovering. It was going to be a long nine months, if he insisted on coddling her the entire pregnancy. She wouldn't have it. She was animated, her brow set, lips stiff and beautiful, absolutely beautiful. Still, the best she got out of him was a promise to try.
Her request to go back to the lab was strategic coming right on the heels of his promise. What could he do? Swallowing the desire to just eat and take her home, he agreed to take her back to the Jeffersonian. A negotiation, compromise. They would go get some dinner and then he'd take her back to the lab for a couple hours.
She was already feeling the effects of morning sickness. Her raging hormones influencing her sense of smell and turning her favorite foods into a wave of nausea and repulsion. She ate mostly fries, turning away just about everything else. Booth didn't eat at all once it was clear the smell of his hamburger was about to ruin her dinner. He sent it away, claiming he'd snacked late in the day at work. She promised she would have it under control soon. She had been researching it, after all, had an entire diet and plan worked out. Booth just smiled and nodded. Life would teach her soon enough that some things were just uncontrollable.
The truck was warm, the lights of the city a blur, and his hand holding hers comforting. She got lost in the rhythmic feel of his thumb rubbing over hers. She fell asleep as he drove her back to the Jeffersonian. He took her anyways, knowing she needed to control what she could. When he parked and came around the truck to wake her, she blinked slowly. It wasn't fair, the tenderness in his touch as he swept her bangs out of her eyes. She turned her cheek into the palm of his hand before kissing his wrist.
"I'm tired." Her sleepy mumble entranced him. She started to pull herself together then flopped listless back in the seat. "Can we just go home?"
"Of course, Bones."
It was only a few more days before the morning sickness showed Dr. Temperance Brennan just who was in charge. She drank ginger root tea, carried sliced lemon in a sandwich bag everywhere she went, ate all the foods that she'd insisted Angela eat. Including garbanzo beans, which ended badly. She almost stopped brushing her teeth in order to keep from gagging. Booth watched her a little too closely at their most recent crime scene sure that it would finally be the one that made her barf. She accused him of being disappointed when she didn't.
She didn't complain. He stood patiently by her, sent her don't forget to eat text messages throughout the day, carried ginger ale and saltines in his truck, stationed them strategically throughout her apartment and office.
They were together a little over a month and she was hunched over a toilet vomiting and dry heaving while he held her hair back. It was all suddenly absurd to her. Her random outburst of laughter startled him.
"This is not attractive." She confessed while leaning over the toilet, fairly sure she'd never felt this self conscious in her life.
"I disagree." She looked up at him like he was completely ridiculous. "I can't imagine anything more attractive than a woman willing to go through all of this to have my baby."
"You're just trying to make me feel better."
"No, I'm telling you that I love you, even when you're barfing or maybe especially when you're barfing." Leaning in he kissed her forehead. A mighty mood swing brought on a flood of tears. This was going to be a bumpy ride.
Carried away by early pregnancy and a new case, it wasn't until they received matching texts from Sweets that they remembered their assignment. Amid groans and complaints the perfect situation presented itself. Originally, they discussed having Sweets over to her house where she would teach Booth an ancient board game she'd acquired in her travels in the Middle East. But, they were both concerned that their new found familiarity would be evident no matter how hard they tried to hide it. Saved by an unlikely source, Rebecca interrupted their discussion with a call regarding a change in Parker's baseball schedule. They would invite Sweets to come along with them to one of Parker's little league games. Bones knew nothing of baseball. Booth could teach her. It was public and open, lots of cheering, nothing too intimate or revealing. Best of all, Sweets was satisfied.
The field was brimming with excited uniformed children followed around by families carrying blankets, camp chairs, and every Starbucks drink known to man. Microcosms formed as groups of women, presumably mothers, gathered. Men also seemed to have traditions and rituals from greetings to interactions with the young players. It peaked her curiosity in a way she had not anticipated. It also sent a tinge of panic and need to master this world before she had a child of her own coursing through her veins. She would be expected to understand these ritualistic events and participate in them soon enough. Her questions started long before they met up with Sweets and included everything from the game itself to the intricate culture surrounding it.
Sweets saw them before they saw him. From across the field, he watched as Booth, animated and excited if not clearly frustrated at times, explained the game to her. He motioned and pointed. Sweets smiled, whether they liked it or not this one was working. They were out, away from work, interacting and sharing personal experiences. So much for we don't go there anymore he thought to himself. Soon enough, he'd come to sit by them but for now he found watching them from afar much more amusing.
The happenings of the game would be translated by Booth, which included explanations of what the umpire was saying and doing as well as the crowds reactions. For someone who had so pointedly expressed her disdain for motive, she suddenly seemed to have to know the motivations for every group. Why, why, why seemed to be her answer to everything.
By the time Sweets made his way to the partners they were in a fascinating discussion about the classification of Saturday morning little league parents. Booth's classifications of the different types of moms captured her attention. Teeth, a group who were clearly concerned about appearances more than anything else. Silicon mommies, self explanatory he told Bones then answered her confused looks by whispering, "plastic surgery," quietly so no one but her would hear. Granola, he described them as tree huggers and granola eaters, thus the name. Helicopter moms hovered and were prone to gasp loudly every time a kid tripped on the field, heaven forbid, they skinned a knee. That triggered an inning long rant about how children needed to get dirty and hurt, it was a natural part of growing up.
Bones had her moments too. She was quick to point out what could only be described as pre-mating rituals engaged in by certain women and men.
"Shhhhhh, Bones." He repeatedly tried to get her to talk quieter. "God knows, most of the people here have no idea what you're saying, but keep it down in case they do, okay?"
She didn't understand. "Their actions are obvious, Booth, how could me talking about them be a problem when everyone can see them?"
"We don't always say things out loud even when everyone can see it, it's not polite." Social rules, despite years of mini-lessons from Booth, she still didn't understand them well. Booth did, though, and most of the time she just accepted his appraisal and catalogued his advice for future reference. Still, there were times she liked to poke at him, deliberately crossing social boundaries for the sole purpose of his reaction.
"See that lady in the blue? The blonde."
"Bones, don't point."
"She's been engaging in sexually enticing activities pointed at you all morning. Maybe she's hopeful that being blonde will attract you because of your previous relationship with Rebecca and Hannah." The lady was walking towards them.
Booth leaned closer, his voice terse, and whispered out of the corner of his mouth. "I never took Hannah to any of Parker's games." The woman had definitely noticed Booth's companion for the day and was half way up the bleachers and almost on top of them.
"Seeley, hi." It was almost irresistible to not point out the subtle indicators to Booth, her stance, the flip of her hair, her smile. "Parker's having a great game today."
"Yeah, he is, thanks." Booth briefly introduced Bones then turned his body and attention back to explaining the game to his lovely companion for the day. He was more interested in the single fathers that saw fresh meat on the market as soon as he arrived with Bones. They'd been eyeing her all afternoon, several had made their way up the bleachers to be introduced and make small talk. Bastards, shamelessly flirting. This one had the balls to sit down beside them and try to edge his way into the conversation by taking over a lengthy conversation on base stealing.
Sweets watched from the row behind them. After shooting the man a dirty look, Booth turned again to Bones leaning towards her so far that he brushed up against her arm.
"You're cold."
"I'm fine, Booth." But before she could finish he shrugged out of his jacket and had it wrapped around her. Sweets looked shocked. Booth's black FBI jacket, one with his name in bold white lettering hung around her shoulders, effectively marking her as his. Sweets wondered if Dr. Brennan had a clue what had just happened socially. She certainly didn't seem to.
They had always been an odd pairing, Dr. Brennan and Agent Booth, for so long they acted like a couple. Not just a couple, but a couple in a long term committed relationship. Sweets had watched that relationship grow from their early years then saw it fade when had rejected Agent Booth's advances. It flat out died after they had returned from Afghanistan and Maluku. Sweets was hopeful Booth's rather firm stance that they would never be more than just partners again was softening. Dr. Brennan on the other hand seemed more guarded than ever. Watching her point out women that were interested in Booth to Booth, that was just wretched and not what one normally does when they're interested themselves. There was still lots of work to do, but it would have to wait for their next session. As promised, he left them alone after the game.
Booth, Parker, and Bones stayed on after the park had cleared. Booth had promised during the game that he'd teach her how to hit.
"It can't be that hard, Booth, it's a matter of science really."
"Great then, Bones, let's see you take a couple swings." Booth pitched, she missed, every time. Calling Parker over to pitch, he made his way to Bones. "You know, if it were all about science then there'd be pocket protectors in all the major league uniforms." The thought made him laugh out loud.
"I don't know what that means."
She sucked in heavily when she felt him wrap his body around hers carefully moving each part of her into the right stance. She blamed him, clearly smug and happy with what his proximity was doing to her. Barely able to think or speak and he expected her to keep her eye on the ball. Adjusting her grip on the bat, his words coming in heavy breaths against the back of her neck and ear, it was unfair. He talked of her hips swinging smoothly in solid motion, then moved his hands to show her the motion, how to follow through. Back and forth repeatedly until she understood the motion. Baseball was not what she was thinking about though baseball metaphors Angela had used in discussing dates came powerfully to mind.
Thankfully, Parker pulled her attention back through her hazy sense of an overdose of Booth. The boys worked with her until she finally hit the ball a couple of times before they called it quits for the day. Parker had to get back to Rebecca's on schedule.
She survived her first baseball game, they survived Sweets as a third wheel on their therapy required date, they had a wonderful time with Parker, got him home on time, and to celebrate they stopped at the diner for dinner and dessert.
A table full of dishes, a meal of laughter and friendly banter, they were down to tea and coffee and Booth's apple pie, which all of a sudden looked incredibly appealing. Grabbing her fork, she reached over and stole a bite. She popped it in her mouth and chewed gleefully. Booth backed up, his eyes wide with shock.
"Bones? You feelin' okay?" She was past a second bite and suddenly eating with vigor.
"This is very good, Booth." Covering her mouth as she spoke. Still chewing, she reached for another bite. "Maybe the best thing I've eaten since, you know." She'd been feeling so sick, eating even less than usual. It concerned him. He watched with such fascination that he missed seeing Sweets walk in, missed him standing at the counter, missed him walking over, missed the whole thing until Sweets was standing there towering over them.
"Hey, guys." The two looked up at him. "Dr. Brennan, you're eating apple pie." Booth watched all the color drain from Bones' face and was more than just a little concerned that she was going to faint or barf right there at the table. He jumped to explain.
"She lost a bet." Dr. Brennan nodded and chewed slowly in hopes that Booth would continue with the rouse.
"A bet?"
"Yeah, on this last case. I said the guy was having an affair with his secretary and Bones said I was wrong."
She'd finally swallowed. "I said he had no evidence, just a theory." Sweets looked confused. "He said he could tell they were having an affair because the placement of his hand on her back when they left the conference room of their office building." Even Sweets raised his eyebrow at that theory. Booth jumped to his own defense.
"He had his hand low in the small of her back, like really low. Middle of the back, friends or co-workers but not intimate. Lower back, intimate." While the bet was a ruse, it was based in reality. She argued, using placement of Booth's hand on the small of her back for so many years of their partnership. Years of feeling for her, their closeness despite the lack of a physical relationship, he made a strong case stealing her proof and claiming it as his own. Inevitably, the investigation would prove him right if not by the body language but by evidence and confession.
Bones set her fork down. "I think I fulfilled the requirement of our wager." Still looking a little green, she carefully wiped her mouth with her napkin, set it on the plate of pie, and excused herself heading straight for the bathroom. Booth scowled at Sweets, leave it to him to ruin apple pie.
"Is she okay, like she keeps running off to the bathroom which is just not really normal, you know."
"You know Bones. She doesn't really do sick." It was true enough. Every time Sweets had seen her sick she denied it and just kept working.
By the time she came out Sweets was gone and Booth had another piece of pie packaged and ready for them to take home. She looked at the bag and held up her hand ready to push it away.
"I don't think I'll be eating pie for a very long time, Booth."
More than anything he wanted to bend down and drop a comforting kiss on her forehead. He was already tired of hiding their relationship. At times like these, he wanted to tell the world but he knew that day would come soon enough. Her pregnancy was going to force their hand. Pretty soon, the change in their relationship would be obvious.
"Let's go." It was time to be home.
This was the part he loved the most. Home, their evenings together. It was everything he imagined and more. Sometimes, it still felt like a fantasy. Like this night, he walked out of the bathroom to find her settled in his bed reading, a formidable stack of pregnancy and parenting books towered next to her on the beside table. This, their evenings together were more often than not simple but perfectly satisfying. He stood and watched her until she looked up at him.
"Have I told you how beautiful you are today?" She blushed just a little. Always the romantic and yet she couldn't deny how his sweet compliments made her feel loved.
"Yes." She flipped back the covers on his side of the bed while making some half hearted statement about how he need not remind her all the time of his love for her or her beauty. Though occasionally was acceptable.
Laying in Booth's attentive arms her mind started to wander back through their day. He felt her anxiousness build until she finally broke the quiet of the night.
"Booth." She started hesitantly. "What group do I fit in?"
"What?" He was confused by her question at first.
"The groups of women." There were small pauses between each statement. "Today at the game." Her worries starting to consume her thoughts. "Granola, teeth, helicop-"
"Oh, right." He understood now. "None of them, Bones, I wouldn't put you in any of those groups." It was a compliment really, but she didn't see it that way.
"None of them." She repeated with a hint of disappointment. "But won't it be socially important to our child that I have a place and can function in the appropriate parental social circles?"
"Those aren't social circles and you are perfect the way you are. You're going to be a great mom."
"You don't know that." She shot back quickly. "You have no frame of reference from which to draw that conclusion." He tried to get her attention but she just kept talking, her insecurities pouring out. "You have never met my mother though obviously her influence as a mother wouldn't pass to me. I barely remember her, just notions, that's all I have. Kind, I think she was kin-"
"Bones, stop." He finally got her attention. "Those groups I gave you today. That's nothing, just a silly way I look at all these moms. Most of them just running around trying to be something they're not. I don't like that." He held her just a little bit tighter. "But you, I love you. And one of the things I love most about you is that you are your own person. You aren't running around trying to fit in a group or be something you aren't just to please other people. You are more than any of those women could ever be." She was about to argue. "I'm not finished, okay? As for being a great mom, I don't need to know your mom to know you'll be a great one. I'm nothing like my dad, at least I work everyday to not be like him. I try to be a better dad."
Before he could get another word out, she'd jumped in to correct herself. "I didn't mean you're like your father, Booth. You're nothing like your father. I just meant that I know you're going to be great father to our child because I've seen you with Parker. You're good with him. A good man and a good father. You have nothing to base my potential ability as a parent on."
"Sure I do." That confused her and she was about to restate her argument thinking he misunderstood when she felt his thumb gently run over her lips. "Listen. I know you. I know you better than anyone in this world. I know you sometimes better than you know yourself, right?" His voice was soft and sure. "I know how big your heart is. I know how deeply you love. I know how compassionate and wise you really are. I know you will be a great mom because I know who you are in here." Letting his hand slip down to rest over her heart he heard the slight bit of air she always took in before she started to cry.
"Who I am does not reside in my heart, Booth." It was a weak argument, offered without her usual firm and insistent flare, a mild protest reminding him that she was still worried. He rolled them over so he could see her eyes. Carefully he moved her bangs and the little strands of hair from around her face. A reassuring kiss to her forehead and he offered one last stand.
"Tell you what, if you get worried or stuck about social circles and other moms or anything else I'm here for you, okay? I will always be here for you, always. Let's make a deal, okay? I'll help you and you can help me. We'll do this parenting thing together, you and me."
Nodding her agreement she pulled him down needing the security the weight of him surrounding her brought.
ooooo0ooooo
A/N: Hello again! It just dawned on me that the two stories I am working right now both circle around pivotal deaths on the show. That was completely unplanned and, truth be told, makes it a little hard to juggle. Booth and Brennan are in such very different places in these two stories. Anyways….
Thank you for your continued support in reading and leaving reviews! They mean to the world to me. They feed my muse and keep her bugging me with ideas that just HAVE to be written immediately.
Special thanks to Snowybones and Craftyjhawk for support, love, and catching the misspellings and grammar mishaps.