Booth and Brennan goodness, as promised. And to break up the casey-case tension.
Chapter Seventeen: The Ice-Cream in the Park
Brennan sipped her crappy cup of coffee from a Styrofoam cup, grimacing slightly as she gulped it down. Generally she wasn't as picky as Booth with her taste in coffee, but even she found this particular cup a little disgusting.
Sighing, she placed it down, looking into the distance. She was more than frustrated about her inability to find some sort of damning evidence for this case that would point Martin and Booth in one direction or the other. It seemed like this case was just dead end after dead end, and she hated the stumped feeling it gave her. Booth had called her after he and Martin had left the Wentworth's, saying what they'd found out, and it had done little to lighten her mood.
The lack of priority the case had was really getting on her nerves, also. At the Jeffersonian it certainly wouldn't take twenty four hours to process the evidence they'd found at the dorm room, but here she had to wait another eighteen hours before she could see if it was even pertinent to the case.
She saw Booth walking up the hallway with Martin, and found her mood improve drastically. Generally, his presence had always made her happy, but now there was something else there that made her feel... complete.
That makes no sense.
She knew that it was a ridiculous notion, considering that there was nothing missing from her, physically or mentally. Yet, she couldn't think of any other way to describe it.
He grinned down the hall at her, his eyes twinkling. He raised his hand in greeting and she waved back, smiling. Thoughts of the case drifted out of her head, and memories of last night drifted back in. She'd been thinking about their night together a fair amount, and she couldn't help but wonder if it was clouding her judgement, scientifically. She'd often considered the thought that maybe her personal relationships did affect her ability to be an anthropologist, to be a scientist. She found the thought terrifying – what was she, if she wasn't a scientist?
But she couldn't help but think about the way she'd felt that night, the way she felt with him. Yes, she was a scientist. But for a few moments, she felt as though she could see herself through his eyes. And she saw who she was too him, and also that she could be so much more.
He kissed her on the cheek gently, bringing her out of her reverie.
'What're you thinking about, Bones?' He asked, stepping back and sitting down across from her. Martin was talking with someone down the hall, and looked fairly preoccupied.
'Last night,' she said, and Booth grinned at her. 'Oh?' He asked, leaning closer to her, taking one of her hands.
'I was thinking about what it meant to me,' she said, leaning back, but still holding onto his hand.
He looked surprised. She could tell that he had thought she was thinking about the physical side of things – which, by all means, were worth thinking about.
'I think you should know what it meant to me, Booth.' She said, and again, Booth was somewhat surprised by her seriousness. 'It meant... everything,' she said, almost shyly.
He supposed that it wasn't often she would speak so... emotionally, hence the timidness.
He smiled at her warmly, taking her hand. 'Thanks, Bones.' He said, kissing her hand quickly.
She smiled at him, still looking thoughtful.
'You know that you're absolutely precious to me, don't you?' Booth asked, looking at her intently. He wanted to make sure that she too knew how he felt... but not in such a way that she'd be scared away.
She nodded, looking pleased at his words.
He let go of her hand, picking up her coffee and stealing a sip, and instantly regretted it.
'That's bloody disgusting,' Booth spat, after painstakingly swallowing down the mouthful.
Brennan laughed. 'Bloody?' She repeated, grinning at him. 'Picking up the local slang, I see.'
He shook his head, still grimacing slightly. 'Yeah, it didn't really sound right, did it,' he said, smiling crookedly.
Martin appeared next to them, and Booth could see by the amused look on his face that he'd heard Booth's attempt at Aussie speak.
'Well, at least it wasn't "crikey"', Martin said, placing his phone down on the table.
Booth looked up, grinning.
People actually say that here?
Martin had already gotten down to business, and Brennan was nodding along with him, looking serious again.
'...you guys may as well go home. We're not going to get any further information until late tomorrow. I'll give you access to some documents that have been gathered on Paul Wentworth, but other than that, I think we'll have to start from scratch tomorrow morning.'
Booth nodded, not looking forward to an evening poring over countless documents that would most likely lead no-where.
'Sounds good,' he said, regardless. At least he'd be with Brennan.
They stood up, following Martin to his office to get the documents they needed, before heading outside into the sun.
.-.-.-.-.-.
Booth glanced threw the documents into the back seat of the car, before turning to face Brennan.
'Let's do something fun, Bones. Even if it's just for the afternoon.'
She looked unsure, frowning slightly. 'I think it would be wiser for us to try and solve this case, Booth. It's what we're here for, after all.'
He gave her his puppy dog eyes, before reaching out for her hand.
'Oh, come on Bones. All work and no play make Johnny a dull boy,' he said, grinning.
She stared at him for a moment, somewhat incredulously. 'That means nothing to me.'
He rolled his eyes. 'Okay, let's just go...' he looked around, seeing a sign for a park. He gestured to it, grinning like an excited kid. 'Come on, let's just go to the park for a little while. We can just... you know, enjoy spending some time together. You said yourself we should do more of that,' he said, hopefully.
She looked at him, considering how eager he seemed, and gave in.
'Alright. But not for too long,' she added, letting herself be pulled across the road by him.
.-.-.-.-.
The park was just a short distance away, and it was huge. Plenty of people were around, children flying kites, families having picnics, couples strolling around the huge grounds. The day was bright, and Booth felt it easy to leave behind the frustrating case – especially when he was hand in hand with the woman he loved.
She was less easily distracted, her mind still buzzing over possibilities and things she might have missed. But soon enough she too had pushed thoughts of the case to the back of her mind, and she enjoyed the afternoon sun with Booth.
'So, do you have some amazing knowledge about Parramatta Park that you think I'd find interesting?' He asked as they walked down the pathway, taking in the scenery.
She shook her head, hiding her smile. 'I don't know everything about everything, Booth,' she said, looking up at him. He grinned back at her, shrugging.
'You seem too,' he said, squeezing her hand before letting it go.
She looked into the distance, and saw an information plaque in front of a memorial statue, and she pointed too it.
'Well, there is always opportunity to learn,' she said, heading towards it.
He groaned slightly – he hadn't meant to get pulled into an activity that enjoyed more reading than was strictly necessary.
Down the pathway he spied an ice-cream vendor, and tried to attract Brennan's attention away from the plaque.
'Come on, Bones, let's get some ice-cream. That'll be better than reading about some Lady Fitz-her-face,'
She laughed, rolling her eyes. 'Fitzgerald. Why do you always do that, Booth? You're perfectly capable of pronouncing half these words that you insist on mispronouncing.'
He shrugged, grinning at her cheekily. 'Well, I know you like to correct me. Plus, it makes you smile,' he said.
She grinned, shaking her head at him. 'You know, there are plenty of things that I already correct you on, without the added mispronunciations of words,'
Now he rolled his eyes.
'You're unbelievable, Bones.'
She smiled smugly. 'I know,' she said, taking his hand.
He considered continuing the light-hearted argument, but thought better of it. So often their half hearted arguments had turned into full heated ones and he didn't really feel like being annoyed by her, or getting on her nerves. Plus, they'd just come face to face with the ice-cream vendor.
'Hello,' the young man said in a friendly voice. 'What can I get you and your lady?' He asked.
Brennan crossed her arms, considering the choices, before turning to Booth.
'You know, I prefer beer,' she said, grinning slightly.
'You don't like ice-cream?' Booth asked, surprised.
Everyone likes ice-cream!
'No, I do like ice-cream. I just like beer better,' she added, as though that were an important factor in choosing ice-cream.
'Don't we all,' said the young man, smiling at Brennan. 'But I swear, this ice-cream is delicious. Family recipe. Doesn't get better than that, right?'
She shrugged, again looking at the choices.
'Okay, I'll have a scoop of chocolate then.' She watched him scoop it, and even she had to admit that it looked delicious.
The man handed the ice-cream to Brennan, before turning to Booth.
'And what will you have, sir?'
'Vanilla and strawberry, please,' he said, waiting for his cone before handing the kid some money.
Brennan and Booth started walking further down the path, and Booth couldn't help but notice Brennan stopping to give him furtive looks in between licking her ice-cream cone.
'Do I have ice-cream on my nose or something?' He asked, carefully wiping at the tip of his nose.
She laughed. 'No... it's just that...' she paused, looking somewhat amused. 'Well, it doesn't seem very Boothy to be eating strawberry ice-cream, is all. I mean... the colour.'
He licked his ice-cream, noting that the rich pink colour was probably less the emasculating, but he didn't care – strawberry was his favourite flavour, after all.
'Oh, so miss "it's good to bend societal constructs and be a maverick" thinks it's a little much that I like strawberry ice-cream?' He asked, taking a somewhat defiant lick of his cone.
She had to laugh. Now he did have ice-cream on the end of his nose.
'No...' she said, reaching out to wipe the ice-cream off his nose. 'It's just very cute, I suppose,'
'Cute?' he asked, surprised. 'I'm so not cute, Bones.'
She grinned. 'Well, I think you are. In fact, you're like a little boy sometimes. Perfectly adorable,' she said, somewhat mischievously.
He took another lick of his ice-cream, being more careful of his nose this time.
'You think I'm cute,' he said, wanting to verify this new piece of information.
'Certainly. Very endearing,' she added, as if to clarify a point.
'I think a better word would be... charming, or handsome, or... manly,' he said, looking at her.
'Oh, you're all those things, Booth. But you're cute, too,'
He looked at her a moment, feeling one of those swells of emotion for her that for years he'd had to hide away. What she was saying was so... unBrennan like, yet, the way she said them was just so true to form. He pulled her into a kiss, softly at first, before it became filled with a certain amount of intensity, passion.
She was engulfed in all that was Booth – his scent, his firm embrace, his taste. The flavour of strawberry ice-cream teased her lips, and grinning, she concluded that strawberry was, after all, a very Boothy thing.
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