Hey all! Sorry for the delay in getting this up; school really creeped up on me, and that included a thesis chapter due date. The next bit also needed to be absolutely wrangled out of me, so let me know what you think. It covers a lot of grounds and lets a few more storylines unfold, but it does stray from the central drama. I'd LOVE to hit 100 reviews with this one, so PLEASE let me know what you think.
Like most Mondays, it was not a good morning for Seeley Booth. Parker had been a brat to get off to school, Shawna had been late and Bones had spent most of the morning on the phone with her agent and publicist trying to hash out the details of the publicity tour for her book (release date now March 3). They'd all barely made it to work or school on time.
And Rebecca's combination chemo/radiation had started up the week before, more intense than the last round. She was staying in the hospital for the next three weeks, and Parker was with them until it was all done. And Bec was being completely nonchalant about it all, which was just irritating. Last weekend, after thanking him for being so low-key over the past few weeks, she had told him, quite casually, that things hadn't improved, that they'd gotten worse. She said that they were going to try more aggressive protocols; that yes, they had already been pretty aggressive protocols. They had a deadline: If she hadn't begun to show improvement after another round, they'd go in, right after Thanksgiving, and do another surgery. Take out more lungs, more liver. It's not like they were vital organs or anything, Booth thought derisively. He was beginning to get concerned; plenty of people got cancer, beat cancer, but this was beginning to seem so … menacing.
His phone rang. "Deputy Director Booth, sorry to interrupt you," an apologetic voice began. "It's Rick, down in security, entrance 1A?"
"Yeah, what can I do for you, Rick?" he asked, tensing slightly.
"I've got a woman down her, uh, she says she's your wife's best friend. Angela Montenegro? She's got, quote, urgent business, unquote, but she doesn't have a current pass and isn't on the list. She says if I call you you'll send her up. She's quite persistent, too."
"Yeah, yeah, she's cool. Send her up," he said, wondering why Angela was choosing to visit today. She could hear her triumphant told you in the background.
He quickly signed off on a few reports while waiting for her, and flipped through a memo from an assistant detailing what new articles regarding the FBI had been published that morning. "Angela, to what do I owe this pleasure?" he said, as soon as she entered. "You have five minutes. I mean it." He snapped the article on the kiddie-porn ring out of Boston shut.
"Hello to you too, Studly," she said. He hadn't seen her in over two weeks — busy — and was slightly stunned at how pregnant she looked. Bones hadn't been huge; while she had considered herself blobby, her stomach hadn't been really beach-bally. Angela's limbs seemed normal but her stomach was just … so big.
"When do these two make their arrival again?" he gestured toward the belly.
"December 17th, but Dr. Wasserman doubts I'll hold past the 5th. But speaking of birthdays," she sat down, tossing her bag into the next chair. "someone's got a big one coming up."
He grinned. "Five days. I can't believe it. She's turning two." That just seemed insane, that Sophia was turning two. He knew she was still young but it was crazy how quickly she was growing, learning, doing everything.
"Better believe it, mister," Angela grinned. "Bren said you two have a bit of a party planned?"
"Just really small, but yeah — us, Park, Hank, Michelle, Cam, Malcolm, your brood, Daisy, Sweets, Bones' family, my bro —"
"I think you should have Zack," Angela blurted out.
"Zack? Zack Addy? Bones' former assistant, Zack?"
"Yes. I just thought of it. Brennan's been a total stress-basket for weeks. Seeing Zack will help her."
"You are kidding me, Angela. You have to be. You came all the way down here, while I'm working, to plot a jailbreak? He is incarcerated at a maximum-security institution."
"So?"
"So? It's not like he's a teenager with a curfew. He's locked in."
"I talked to them. He's been there long enough that he can leave for up to eight hours as long as a law enforcement official supervises him the entire time. That's you! We don't even have to apply for one to be assigned. Come on, Booth. It's a family thing, you just said. Zack counts."
"Ange —"
"He's not dangerous, Booth, you know that."
"Actually, Ange, in the eyes of the law he is! He confessed to killing someone, to eating his face off!"
"He's not an active threat! It's been five years; even if he was dangerous, which we all know he wasn't, he's reformed," she said. At his still-incredulous look, she said, "Come on. Think about how happy it'll make Bren."
"Do not go there," he snapped. He and Bones had made up; things had been good, been normal for the last few weeks, but he was not about to take Angela whining that he needed to pull a knight-in-shining-armor stunt to relieve Bones' stress level. And he wasn't actually sure Bones would like this surprise. "He could only get out under special circumstances, and I'm guessing my job would be the necessary special circumstances, right?" Angela didn't say anything. "Look, Ange, Zack's never even met Sophia. And if we start saying that he's reformed, asking for more time out, you know what's going to happen? They'll re-evaluate him. Possibly move him to real prison. And that can't happen to the kid."
"Look, I know he always creeped you out a little, but Zack is the weird little brother that Brennan never had, and I was thinking, after she told me about this party, how much she would like it if he were there."
"Don't. You know that I would do anything for Bones. And I already have begged for leniency on Zack for her. And yea, she loves Zack, but he makes her sad, too. This is Sophia's birthday and I don't want Bones to be sad," he stopped. "What? Why are you smiling?"
"Nothing," Angela said. "It's just — you're a good husband. Either that, or emotionally manipulative. I can't tell right now."
"Gee, thanks," he said, rolling his eyes.
"Anyways, it was just an idea."
"Is that it? I have a meeting."
"Fine, fine. Yeah. Just consider it." They both knew the topic was closed, though.
"Ok, fine. And Ange? Seriously, next time just drop by after dinner." He shook his head. It was days that this that he missed Cam. He didn't know when he'd traded in his frat and sports buddies for so many female friendships, but they were damn exhausting. At least Cam was sane.
The meeting was pretty big: His office; the deputy director for National Security; Intelligence; White Collar; Counterterrorism; and the NSA had been collaborating for a while on new comprehensive threat screening and information synthesis, and had made some inroads, were better able to assess domestic terror threats. It was actually neat stuff, would really make a difference, and they'd had a good time putting it all together, thinking it through. And best of all, it was airtight with General Counsel. They were presenting it to the Director and NSA director, who would then take it to the President. He had a presentation to make and everything.
"Hey, Booth," Conrad, the DDNS, said as he entered — just a smidge late but ahead of the director, which was what counted. "How was the weekend?"
"Pretty good. Parker had his first hockey game of the season. Yours?"
He rolled his eyes. "Ashley came down for a weekend, brought the boyfriend. You're lucky your girl's still little, watch her before she grows up and starts dating slacker potheads with 'fantastic personalities,'" he threw up exaggerated air-quotes and rolled his eyes.
"Soph's turning two this weekend and I can barely believe it," he said, shaking his head before taking a seat.
"Good afternoon, Conrad, Booth, Breikovski," Director Hammersley said, nodding toward the two deputy directors and the intelligence directorate. "Let's get this show on the road, boys."
Sitting in the meeting, watching Conrad's portion of the presentation — about the better-integrated approach to stopping terror attacks — he was reminded, deep down, why he had taken this promotion; why, despite his ambivalence and discontent, it had been the right thing to do. Yeah, the uptightness made him itchy, yeah, he missed running the bad guys down, but he was doing things. And, they were, objectively, important things. If he hadn't taken the promotions, he might've had a few more years in the field, but then he would have turned into one of those sad old guys who kept getting shafted for investigations and did mediocre, middle-level desk work.
This was better. The stuff he was doing now was saving people, fixing things, stopping bad stuff from happening, keeping the country safe, just in a different way. A bigger way. He was good at it. He knew it; everyone knew it. As an agent, he'd gotten complacent, routine; he could've, should've had promotions earlier but hadn't wanted to leave Bones. Now, he was better at his job than he had been previously.
And now the job didn't have to be all-consuming. He didn't need that any more. He had Bones, Sophia, Parker to be the things that defined his life, the very feeling that he'd wanted for years. He had no reason to atone anymore, should have grown past his old man and sniper years and all those times he couldn't protect Bones in the field. He slept easier at night, took work home more but carried it with him less. All things that would make Sweets happy. This was the rational, mature next step. But old habits died hard. And he missed the gun. And still didn't like so much paperwork. Or the politics. Or the damned Blackberry. He checked it again to see an update from Philadelphia on the privacy case and Miami on the gun smugglers.
"Booth, stay back for a sec," Hammersley called as the meeting was ending.
"How's it going, sir?" he asked as the crowd petered out.
Hammersley did a little smirk-smile, then said, "Good work on this stuff, Booth. Someone had to have prodded White Collar into producing legitimate ideas, and it sure as hell wasn't Manson."
"He's solid. Good at getting things done."
"Yeah, yeah. Listen, I wanted to talk to you about something. I just got a call from Senator Stone; the Judiciary Committee just passed a resolution for a blue-ribbon panel on criminal-justice reform. We're talking big — financial, ethical, legal. They think something's screwed in the system, they want it fixed."
"Do you think something's screwed up in the system?" Personally, Booth thought criminals should be behind bars. Heretical, he knew.
"I think that's what you're going to tell me. Listen, the president's new, he's a Democrat, I could see him picking this issue up so he'd look tougher. Check with your Army buddy and see if the House is going to pass it; if there is — and Stone and I see it — there's a good chance the president will commission a look. And if he does, you're the vice-chairman."
"I am?" Jesus Christ, another task force? He had to be frigging kidding.
"Yeah, I told Stone to pencil your name in. It'll probably start in the new year; have maybe 18 months to look into the issue. Blue-ribbon commissions are huge; they're not your ordinary task force. You can handle this, right? We need you there, your expertise."
What you need is my title, Booth thought.
"New year? Shouldn't be too much of a problem," is what he said.
"Great. Knew you were my man, Booth." With that, the director left for his extremely important meetings.
As soon as he was out of the meeting with Major Crimes, he gave Michael a call, dialing his cell to avoid talking to Catharine, his militant scheduler. After a few minutes shooting the shit and talking about their wives, he cleared his throat and said, "Listen, I'm actually calling about a bit of business. Hammersley just got a call from Stone about the Senate Judiciary calling for a blue ribbon to look into the criminal justice system. I was just wondering what you'd heard about it."
"Yeah, it's going to happen. We had a meeting yesterday; it came up. Stone's asked Maloney to sponsor in the House. The White House has already reached out to him. It's going to happen. Why? You on it?"
"Yeah," he said, "or so I've heard."
"It's going to be doing really interesting, potentially groundbreaking stuff. Reforming the way we look at criminal justice. Gonna be a lot of fun, Seel."
"Sounds like it, Mikey," he said. Great. "Good talking to you. Give me a call when Nicky and Cassandra are in town; we'll get everyone together."
He actually beat Bones home that night, which meant he got to pick dinner. Parker, after the carpool dropped him off from hockey, campaigned hard for spaghetti and meatballs, reasoning that it was easy and delicious. He was chopping vegetables to add to his special sauce recipe, passed down by Hank, when Bones walked in.
"Oooh, what's for dinner?" she asked, wrapping her cold hands around him and peeking over his shoulder. She hadn't even taken off her coat.
"Really, truly, how can your hands be so cold all the time?" he teased, clasping them and turning around to kiss her. "Spaghetti and vegetable sauce, meatballs on the side for me and Parker. How was your day? Did you get the book tour worked out?"
"Yes, I should only have to be traveling for 10 days. About the book, actually," she said, reaching for a bottle of red wine and pouring herself a glass. "Do you want any?" she asked, finally removing her trench.
"Wine? No, I'm good."
"Okay. Anyways, the book. My publisher started talking about adding another two Kathy Reichs books to my contract."
"Re-negotiating the advances?" he asked, tossing some peppers in.
"Actually, I'm strongly considering suspending the series indefinitely after book 10."
He stopped stirring the pasta. "Really?" he asked. "Are you sure?" Bones rarely announced a decision before making it, which meant she wasn't writing any more.
"No," she said, taking another sip of the wine. "Not at all, actually. I like writing too much. But my original motivation no longer exists. I'm going to make a salad."
"Why did you start writing in the first place?" he asked, realizing that he didn't know. They'd worked one case, the book had come out, they'd become partners. She'd been writing them on the side as long as he knew her.
"A way to utilize my time not spent in the lab," she said. "But now I'm barely in the lab. And there's you. And Sophia. And Parker. And the museum. You see?"
"Yeah, but I know you love writing the books."
"It's turned into too much work, now." She shook her head. "It's not fun; I'd rather be spending the time with you, Sophia, and Parker, or completing my work for the museum, or in the lab doing research. I miss research. I wasn't in the lab at all last week." That wasn't good. Bones got a little stir-crazy when she didn't have her bones. "I love the books, but I love other things more. We have royalties and residuals, which, considering that I still have three books to release, should be fairly substantial for the next few years."
"Bones, the books aren't about the money. You know I could care less about that."
"I know, but they do afford us a particular lifestyle. It factors into the decision. We'll be less financially secure."
"Bones, those payments have been going to charities and investments for years. And I already think this house is ridiculous. If you want to keep writing, do it. Don't feel pressured, though."
"I don't. The books require 15-20 hours a week. I could be identifying remains or playing with Sophia or having sex with you," he choked a little on his water and grinned. "It's time."
"Alright." He'd been right, the decision was pre-made. "Are you planning on sending Kathy and Andy out with a bang?" he smiled.
"I haven't really thought about the last book's plot, though I suppose it would be fitting for them to get engaged or married. That's the kind of thing Bianca keeps telling me fans like. It's the conventional twist on an ending."
He smirked. "Yeah, I think people would like that," he said. "Everyone likes a happy ending."
Saturday morning, the day of Sophia's actual birthday, he awoke to Bones pressing kisses into his shoulder and jaw. "Good morning," she said, dragging her tongue along his collarbone. "I see you're … up." She ghosted her fingers along his pelvic bone, inching toward his morning wood.
"Helluva wake-up call, Bones," he muttered, flipping her under him and pressing his body against hers.
"I'm trying to be more spontaneous," she said breathily as he pushed her dusty-pink nightgown up around her breasts to nuzzle her stomach. That was a damn lie. Bones loved morning sex.
"Yeah, right," he said, shucking her panties. As he delved in, he could feel her writhing to completely remove the nightgown. After a few minutes — where she came pretty damn close to the edge, thankyouverymuch — she pulled him up, deftly pushing down his boxers and pajama pants before turning him over and lowering herself onto him. Nice.
"You like?" she murmured with a teasing smile. She knew the answer already. She placed her lips on that one spot on his neck that she'd discovered probably their second night together, and he held back a moan.
"Hell yeah, Bones. Hell yeah I like."
Somehow — and, this, more than anything else, Booth took as a sign there was a God — they were early risers with late sleepers for children. They had over an hour together before they heard Sophia talking to her stuffed animals, and Parker wouldn't be up until 10 if he could help it.
"Let's go get the birthday girl," Booth said, tossing Bones her off-white bathrobe as she pulled her nightgown back on.
"You still want to do your pancake ritual, right?" Bones asked as they pushed open Soph's door and peeked around the corner.
"Tradition, not ritual, Bones, you know the difference," he said as Sophia, standing up in her crib, yelled, "Mama! Daddy!"
"Good morning, baby girl!" Bones gasped as she picked her up and nuzzled the little girl's neck. "Do you remember what today is?"
"Weekend?" Sophia asked. Booth grinned. She was so smart. Even at just-now-two, she knew what it meant when Mommy and Daddy wore pajamas instead of suits to wake her up.
"That too," Booth said, "But today is your birthday. Two years ago, after 16 very long hours of labor, you were born."
"Born?" Oh shit.
As he was trying to figure out an age-appropriate, non-graphic answer, Bones jumped in. "A birthday's just a day when everyone remembers how special you are. You only get one a year, though."
"And that means you're getting presents," Booth said. That had been a very good explanation from Bones.
"And Aunt Angela, Uncle Jack, Uncle Russ, Grandpa Hank, and Grandpa Max are all coming over," Bones added.
"And Parker?"
"Of course Parker, he's your brother," Bones said. "Do you need to urinate, Sophia?"
"Yes, please," Sophia said, leading the way to the bathroom with Blue, her stuffed dolphin, in tow.
"Do you want to start pancakes? I'll handle this," Bones said.
"Sure thing," he said. On his way downstairs, he popped his head into Parker's room. "Park, don't forget, pancakes and bacon for Sophia's birthday today. Get up soon, bud."
Parker rolled over and cracked one eye open to look at the digital clock. "Dad? It's barely 8:30."
"Sister. Birthday. Up in a half hour, bub. I'm gonna need your help." He ducked as Parker launched a pillow at him, and shut the door on his way downstairs.
He started mixing up the pancake batter, mashing in the banana and adding walnuts to half (for Bones and Parker) and chocolate chips to half (for Sophia and him). Bones, still barefoot in her nightgown, brought Sophia down as the first batch was coming off the griddle. The outfit showed signs of cooperation between mother and daughter: Sophia wore a pumpkin-colored T-shirt, brown corduroy skirt and white cardigan (Bones' choices), but tights with a fall-leaf print, orange clogs, and a bright-orange baseball cap that he'd seen at Gap and thought was funny (all Sophia).
"I see we had a successful clothing negotiation this morning," he grinned, leaning over to kiss Bones as she grabbed the carafes of orange juice and 2-percent milk from the fridge.
"I've learned the benefits of compromise," she acknowledged. "Parker still asleep?"
"Yeah, can you grab him?"
A few minutes later, a sleepy Parker and a self-satisfied Bones reappeared. "You know, it'll be her birthday for another 15 hours. We could have done this in like an hour, you know." Still, he kissed the top of Soph's head and wished her a happy birthday.
"You wanna handle the bacon, bub?" he asked, waggling the spatula, which Park took with a grin. Bones popped her iPod into the iHome, twisted it to one of her indie chick artists (Lenka, maybe) that he didn't actually mind too much, and sat down to color with Sophia. Perfect morning.
The big gift for Sophia was a toddler bed and after breakfast, Bones took Sophia to meet Angela and Talia at the park while he and Parker got started on the surprise. The sleigh-style bed was beautiful and easier than expected to assemble, and he even managed to figure out how to get the blue-and-purple linens on the bed. Then it was the zoo (for the third time in a month. Not that he minded) with the Hodgins family for a special behind-the-scenes tour Bones had arranged (the Zoo was part of the Jeff, after all) before all coming back for an early dinner.
They were only home for a few minutes before the house began to fill: First Jared and Dylan (who now was definitively moving to D.C. with him) arrived with Pops, who set Sophia on his knee and proceeded to have a Very Serious and Important Conversation with her; then Michelle dropped in; the nanny stopped by for 20 minutes to drop off a gift; then Malcolm and Cam pulled up; then Sweets and Daisy arrived with a truckload of presents; finally, Russ, Amy, their kids, and Max showed up. Max quickly joined Hank in keeping Sophia occupied, and her peals of laughter reverberated throughout the first floor.
Bones and the rest of the women headed into the kitchen, while he and the guys turned on a game and watched the toddlers play with Asta as Emma, Hayley, and Parker headed outside. Getting up to grab a beer, he paused in the doorway to drink in the scene. Angela was brightly discussing real estate with Dylan, who wanted a condo in Dupont or on Capitol Hill South. Daisy and Michelle had apparently commandeered the cooking process and Bones sat with her nephew on her lap, talking animatedly to Amy and sometimes interjecting into Dylan and Angela's conversation.
"Seeley," Cam said, sidling up beside him and surprising him. "Decision time. In or out of the room."
"Don't scare me like that, Camille," he replied. "I just came in here for a beer." He moved toward the fridge, squeezing Bones' shoulder as he passed. "How've you been? Malcolm treating you alright?"
"No, he's completely awful and keeps me locked up in a tower and only feeds me bread and water. Seriously, Seeley?" she laughed. "We're wonderful. What about you, though? How's Rebecca? Sweets said she's on a new regimen and in the hospital for combination therapy."
"Yeah, the cancer actually grew over the last treatment. They're not sure how. Bones talked to the doctor about the new stuff, and she says it's pretty aggressive." He looked around, at everyone all happy, and turned to her, "Do you think Zack should be here? Angela came down to my office this week to harass me about it."
Cam just kind of looked at him with that patented Yes-it's-official-all-my-friends-are-morons look. "Oh, no. No, no, no."
"What?" he asked.
"I am not getting in the middle of this. If Brennan tells Angela then she'll come to you, and my name will somehow come up, and suddenly I'm the mean one."
"Oh, so it was the wrong decision?"
"I didn't say that," Cam said patiently. "It was a decision; I don't see a right or wrong answer. This day is about Sophia, and you and Brennan, and she didn't bring up inviting him, either. You don't need Sweets' degrees to know that she sees not catching Zack as one of her biggest regrets."
"Okay, good."
"Not quite. How have you and Brennan been? Angela said she went to Atlanta?"
He sighed. "It was a month ago. We got into it on our anniversary getaway and we needed a timeout so she went to Atlanta a bit early. It wasn't anything permanent, we were just exhausted."
Cam looked at him sympathetically. "You really aren't dealing well with Rebecca, are you, big man?"
He set his jaw carefully. "We don't know what we're dealing with with Bec. I guess I was overreacting a bit too, according to both of 'em. We needed some time apart. But Bones and I are in it for the long haul. Sometimes we're going to piss each other off."
"And you fixed things?"
"Yeah, we talked."
"And things have changed?"
"Of course they have."
He fully expected her to retort with That's not an answer Seeley, but she just finally said, "Okay."
"Okay?"
"Yeah."
"That's it?"
"Sorry, I'll just poke my nose around in here where it doesn't belong."
"It's just not the reaction I was expecting."
"Seeley. You and Brennan are both full-fledged adults now. You are married. You have a house and a daughter and she's pretty involved with Parker. Nothing I say could be a bigger incentive to play nice and be honest and be careful than those things. You chose these stakes, with someone with whom the stakes were already unbelievably high."
"Thanks, Cam," he said, unsure whether or not he was being sarcastic.
"You're welcome," she said enigmatically, before wandering off to find Malcolm.
They sat down for dinner shortly after that, Sophia in the seat of honor and him and Bones on either side of her. They'd made all her favorite foods — sliced apples and pears; mac'n'cheese; mashed potatoes; chicken fingers; tofu; chickpea-and-feta salad. Sophia and Bones had an extremely serious conversation about whether or not tofu would taste good in the mashed potatoes. Grinning, he turned to Pops and Parker, who were sitting to his left debating Caps vs. Flyers. They tried to drag him and then Bones in; he resisted while Bones somehow ended up a Caps fan. He tried to pay attention and see if Pops' dementia had gotten worse since September; it seemed okay but he couldn't really tell.
And then it was time for cake. Bones got Sophia to blow out the '2' candle on her own, and the toddler seemed mystified that the cake was hers. "My cake? Mine? For birthday?"" she kept repeating. And then she'd go through the featured animals: "Panda! Gee-raffe! Lion! Tiger! Snake!"
"She's so verbal, Temperance, what's your secret?" Dylan, who had never met Sophia, said. Dylan was tan, with long, perfectly blown-out brown hair. She was a bit shallow, but she was kind.
Bones shrugged. "Given her probable IQ, the amount of reading that we do together, and the fact that we don't infantilize her, it's really not that unexpected. A bit unusual, but not unexpected." Bones smiled. "What's that one, Sophia?"
"Rhino?"
"Hippo," Bones said as Booth sliced the hippos head off and passed it to Sweets. "Rhinoceroses have horns, whereas hippopotami swim. They also have a different number of toes, which unfortunately we can't observe right now."
"El-phant!" Sophia pointed.
"Good!"
"Her verbal skills are actually highly unusual," he heard Sweets explain to Dylan. "Joe turned 3 in September, and Sophia's perfectly able to have a conversation with him at his verbal level. And Joe's highly intelligent. Talia, who isn't two until May, has a vocabulary of a 26-month-old. All three have advanced motor- and problem-solving skills, too."
"Sweets, you're not running tests on my kid when you say you're just playing, are you?" Booth asked. He could see Angela looking a little appalled behind Sweets, as well.
Sweets' eyes widened and he visibly swallowed. "No. No, of course I'm not."
"Bunch of baby Einsteins and real Einsteins, babe," Jared said.
"I'm already doing two-variable algebra," Parker added proudly. "That means it's got x's and y's."
Dylan laughed. "I don't think I did that until my second year of high school."
"Oh," Parker said, unsure of what to say next. "It's really not that hard. Bones taught it to me in an afternoon. It probably wasn't your fault. Did you go to public school? I'm switching to private school cause of that."
"Parker has an aptitude for numbers and loves science," Bones cut in.
"What do you want to be when you grow up, Parker?" Dylan asked politely.
He shrugged. "I don't know. Something cool, like a CIA Agent. Maybe an astronaut. Dad and Bones say they're basically badass scientists. Or…"
"Language, Parker." Booth interjected. Parker's fondness for ass and shit was becoming a very long and tiring phase.
"Sorry," he rolled his eyes. "Or a doctor."
Bones furrowed her brow. "That one's new."
"Yeah," Parker tapped his fork against his plate. "Can Sophie open her presents now?"
"I think that's a great idea," Booth said. "Let's get this table cleared."
Sophia made out like a bandit. First, Dylan and Jared got her purple Ugg boots, which made Bones wrinkle her nose in confusion, and a Juicy Couture tracksuit. Angela and Hodgins gave fingerpaints, watercolors and an easel — "Don't worry, Bren, just spread some butcher paper under the table and have her play in the basement" — as well as several puzzles.
"I wanted to get her a guinea pig but Angie said next year," Hodgins said, grinning.
"Can I have a guinea pig?" Parker asked.
"No, you have a dog," Booth said quickly. "And those things reek."
Cam, Malcolm, and Michelle gave her a half-dozen dresses from Bonpoint and two coats from Crewcuts — a purple peacoat with silver lining and a camel-colored toggle coat with attached mittens. Cam had a thing about spoiling the younger kids. Both stores were way to chi-chi for him, but Bones loved them, and gushed appropriately.
Next up was a very small player piano from Russ and Amy's family, and then a gorgeous, crocheted, blue-and-white blanket from Max. Bones stared at it in shock.
"Where did you find this, Dad?"
"Relax, Tempe. Your Mom and I did take some things. We were afraid that you might get split up, you know. Your mother always intended to give it to your first daughter."
"Family heirloom?" Booth asked tentatively, wondering if they were going to see another Max-Temperance showdown.
"My mother knitted it for me when she was pregnant. What else do you have, Dad?"
"Relax, honey. Some keepsakes, from your mother."
"Like what?"
"Some jewelry of hers. Photos of her family. Stuff like that. We'll discuss this later, promise."
Bones eyed him uneasily before saying, "We haven't had Hank yet, right, or Sweets and Daisy?"
"Mine can be next," Pops said quickly. "Homemade. My woodworking class helped."
"You're taking woodworking, Pops?" That sounded dangerous.
"Yep, shrimp, I do." He pointed to an extremely large box. "It's that one."
He and Bones pulled the wrapping down, opened the box. "Wow," he said, looking in. "Is this —"
"It's a dollhouse," Hank said. "They have these kits."
"How do we get it out?" Bones asked, staring at the roof.
"Got it," Booth said, "Park, your pocketknife?"
They cut down the box so the flaps fell away, revealing a gorgeous, three-story Victorian dollhouse, painted robin's-egg blue. There was a wraparound porch in front, intricate gingerbread-ish trim, roof stuff like turrets, and individual shingles on the roof. The back of the house cut open to show off the rooms inside.
"This is gorgeous, Hank," Angela raved.
"They make these kits," he repeated happily. "You just glue 'em together and paint. We're going around making them for all the guys' granddaughters."
"Thank you," Bones said, going round to hug Hank by wrapping her arms around his chest from behind. "It's lovely."
"Mine?" Sophia said uncertainly.
"Yeah, kitten, all yours." Booth smiled.
Sweets and Daisy got her a lot of stuffed animals — designed with the correct fur color — as well as a small library of books that she wouldn't be able to read for a while.
"All mine too?" Sophia checked.
"Yep, baby girl," Bones said. "Now it's time for Mommy and Daddy and Parker's gift, which is up in your bedroom. Would you like to show your guests there?"
They followed Sophia as she gave a rambling, impromptu tour of the house: "This is TV. This is stairs. This is wall. This is floor. This is Asta!" She chased the dog, and Bones chased her before they were back on track. "This Mommy's and Daddy's room. This Parker's. This mine!"
"Let's open the door, Sophia," Bones said, taking her hand and turning the knob. "Do you see anything new?"
"Whoa," Sophia breathed. She turned to Mom and Dad. "No crib."
"No. We got a big-girl bed," Booth said. "Remember when you said you were a big girl?"
"Yesterday?" she questioned. Everything was 'yesterday' for Sophia.
"Yeah. So we got you a big-girl bed."
"Mine?" she pointed. "My room."
"Yep. All yours."
"Whoa," she said again, poking the bed.
"Can you say thank you to everyone who gave you things, Sophia? It's customary." Bones said. That was another thing about Bones: She'd be damned to raise a rude child.
"Wait! I got something." Parker said. "Dad helped me, too." He ran over to her dresser and pulled a rectangular package out of it. Booth smiled. Parker had come up with this gift, all on his own. Booth thought it was great.
Bones looked at the package curiously, mouthed "shoes?" and then put the box in Sophia's lap to help her open it.
"This is only part of it," Parker said. "I'll explain the rest though."
The two tore the paper off and pulled the lid off the box, revealing a pair of pristine white leather figure skates. "Ice?" Sophia asked, reaching toward the blade.
"Shh, careful baby girl, they're sharp," Bones said, quickly pulling her finger away. "Parker, they're lovely, but she's a little young."
"They're a little big so she has to grow a little first anyways. But I wanna teach her how to skate. That's the gift."
"You want to teach her?"
"Yeah. Well, really I wanna teach her hockey, but dad says girls like figure skating better. But I'll get her to switch later." The adults in the room laughed.
"Thank you, Parker, this was exceptionally thoughtful," Bones said, running her finger down the shiny blade lightly.
Pretty soon the guests started to trickle out — first Russ had to get the girls home for school, meaning that Bones couldn't get into it with her Dad (which left her a little mad); and then Joe and Talia zonked out and Angela started to feel exhausted so they peaced; then Jared and Dylan started worrying about getting Gramps back so they left. Michelle had things at school and Cam and Malcolm took her back; Sweets and Daisy had some wedding stuff to take care of. Parker wanted to go visit Becca, so the two of them popped over to GWU before coming home. And then suddenly it was 9 p.m. and it was just the two of them, cuddled on the couch.
"Hey, Bones?" he asked, sifting his fingers through her hair.
"Mmm-hmm?" she replied, lazily flipping a page in her journal.
"Angela — she came to me earlier this week. She wanted to invite Zack along. She thought it would make it less stressful for you. I said no. I just … I wanted to know what you think. And if I need to apologize."
She was quiet for a minute. "Why did you say no?" she asked.
He paused for a while. "I thought it would make you upset, I guess. You haven't visited him in months," he said finally. "And it was Sophia's day."
"He's never met Sophia face to face, so it made little rational sense. And I don't visit him frequently because I, unlike Angela and Hodgins, have a time-intensive job. I do pay for his subscriptions to several expensive journals," she said mildly. "How would he have gotten out?"
"There are … ways, Bones. At least, hypothetically, there are ways," he swallowed. Bones loved doing things like pretending to slip $20s to hostesses and was basically ginning the system so their kids would get a better education."
"Angela wanted you to intimidate some lower-level cop and make them let you take Zack based on the prestige of your job title?"
"Basically."
She considered that before speaking. "I would not have been sad, exactly, at seeing Zack. I do miss him. There are some days that thinking about how I didn't help him makes me very … disappointed in myself, but I'm able to remember that he was still a good person. But if I knew that you had to grease the truck — "
"Wheels, Bones.".
"Wheels, then. If I knew you had to grease the wheels, which I know you don't like to do but you would do it for me, the fact that you would do it for me nonetheless would make me very sad." She looked at him with her wide eyes.
Well alright then. It didn't feel exactly comfortable or right, so he just leaned forward and kissed her gently.