I am aware Fruit Loops and Craft Dinner are spelled wrong.
Also, shout out to HappyDaysAreHereAgain. Seriously, without her, an extremely interesting bus ride, and that time we didn't actually get to play any music, this chapter would've never existed.
Finally, thanks to everyone who has reviewed, followed, and favourited. You rock!
It was that time in the morning where nothing moved: every living thing was in the deepest stages of slumber. The only light came from the hall; it lit up the man and woman splayed out on the bed.
Brennan's eyes were open. She counted to three and then swung her legs around, standing up. Booth was on the verge of waking up – he noticed the slight shift of weight and heard her footsteps as she rounded the edge of the bed and neared her escape.
With a surge of effort, Booth launched himself in her direction, moving only from the waist up. Brennan was aware of two arms wrapping themselves around her waist – first her breathing hitched in fear, and then she giggled as Booth dragged her back towards himself.
"Booth-" She resisted the touch, struggling, yet she allowed him to push her back down on the bed. He loomed over her with innocent brown eyes; she gave him her best unimpressed expression.
"Booth-" She tried again, a bit more seriously, but he interrupted her with a long dirty kiss. She felt every inch of her body immediately wake up. She fought it and pushed him up, giving him a stern look. He ignored this particular glare and started to place kisses on her neck.
"Mmm?"
"Get off of me; I need to get to work!" She said. He ignored this as well, hands teasing at the edge of her panties.
"Booth!" She failed at sounding displeased but slapped his hands away. He recoiled, reconsidered, and then mussed her hair with reconciled passion.
"I'm going to be late as it is," she warned him.
"So what? Screw work," he offered, nuzzling her shoulder.
She sighed. "Honestly," she muttered, but then cupped his face and gave him a fierce kiss. He grinned.
"Now that's what I'm talking about," and he allowed Brennan to roll him onto his back, lips never parting. Just then, her stomach growled. Both parties stopped what they were doing and stared at each other.
"Someone's hungry," his voice held so much affection that Brennan shivered. Not trusting her voice, she just smiled in reply. Booth's hands slid under her shirt and rested on her belly. Brennan's head dipped and rested in the nook between his shoulder and neck contentedly. They stayed like that for a bit, aware of nothing but each other. After a bit Booth wrapped his arms around her and settled her gently down on her back.
"Let me get you something to eat," he murmured, taking the time to kiss her belly softly. Brennan watched as he got up and walked away, pausing at the door.
"Any suggestions?" He asked, turning back to her, silhouetted by the light. She smiled a little childishly.
"What?" He asked.
"It's just…" She trailed off. "I've been craving a strange combination of food lately."
He cocked an eyebrow.
"Fruit Loops… and carrots?" She asked hopefully.
"Fruit Loops… and carrots?" He repeated. She nodded.
"I believe my hormones due to the growth in my womb are causing me to crave Fruit Loops and carrots. Baby carrots, to be precise."
Booth nodded warily. "Fruit Loops and carrots…" he said thoughtfully to himself as he made his way to the kitchen.
Brennan got to the lab a little later and was hastily putting on her lab coat when Cam walked in. The pathologist noticed how flustered and distracted her friend was. She cocked her head, observing Brennan's struggle.
"Please forgive my lateness," Brennan felt the need to hurriedly explain herself.
"You are excused," Cam said slowly, narrowing her eyes, "Since you're on time every other day of the year. Is something the matter?"
Brennan froze. "Everything's fine. Why?"
"No reason, you just seem…" Cam trailed off and Brennan stared at her expectantly.
"Never mind," she waved a hand in dismissal of the discussion. "The body just arrived."
"Perfect," Brennan put on gloves and offered some to Cam as they walked out of the anthropologist's office. Brennan made her brisk way to the access of the platform, taking in the scene without breaking stride. Cam was right behind her.
The FBI forensics team was busy placing a very rusty old ice cream truck in the center of the opening. Brennan walked over, addressing a tech.
"This is the body found yesterday morning, is it not?" She asked. The technician nodded.
"You haven't compromised the remains, I presume?"
"No, ma'am." There was a hint of sarcasm audible.
It passed over her. "Very well." Brennan dismissed him and watched as two others opened the back doors. The smell of putrefied flesh hit her like a tsunami, but she climbed in, unfazed. Cam joined a few seconds later, wrinkling her nose.
"I don't think I'll ever eat from an ice cream truck again," Cam commented. Brennan ignored her, already examining the cadaver which was sprawled in the back of the vehicle.
"Judging by the pelvis, our victim is female. Accordingly, the skull indicates the same."
"There isn't much flesh," Cam observed. "I'll spare what I can."
"I believe she was a teenager, but x-rays will confirm."
"Cause of death?" Cam asked. Brennan peered a little more closely. "Not that I can see. I'll be able to know more after the bones are cleaned."
Hodgins ran up and started to collect samples, overhearing their conversation. "How long has she been dead?"
Both Brennan and Cam took a step back and out.
"Judging by decomposition, I'd say about two weeks," Brennan answered. Hodgins continued to collect samples. Cam turned to Brennan.
"Clark is this case's intern," she said. Brennan took off her gloves.
"Very well. Please have him clean the bones, I'll join him afterwards." She headed towards Angela's office.
"Angela?" She asked at the door.
"Over here, sweetie," Angela called from near the Angelatron. Brennan made her way over.
"Something up?" The artist asked. Brennan shook her head.
"I had a question." The anthropologist said, sitting down next to her friend. Angela nodded encouragingly.
"Have you ever…" Brennan started hesitantly. "Have you ever just had a really strange obsessive craving?"
Angela grinned. "Yeah. When I was pregnant with Michael Vincent I had an enormous craving for Craft Dinner and shrimp. It drove Hodgins crazy. Why do you ask? It's not like you're pregnant or anything."
Brennan chuckled softly. "No, of course not. I think I'm just ovulating and having strange cravings due to hormone imbalances. Well, thank you." Brennan said and got up to leave.
"Bren?" Angela stopped her at the door. Brennan turned to her.
"Yes?"
"What are you craving?"
Brennan grinned. "Fruit Loops."
Angela grinned back.
An hour later found Booth and Brennan off to question the owner of the ice cream truck. Albert MacDermid lived in a bungalow in Virginia; upon answering his door they discovered he was one of those guys: wispy greying hair, sunken eyes, yellowed teeth and a potbelly. The unkempt house smelled of beer and tobacco.
Booth and Brennan shared a look as they followed him inside.
"I wouldn't let my kid buy ice cream from this guy," Booth muttered under his breath. Brennan shot him an agreeing look.
"Sit down, won't ya?" The man plopped down in a rocker. Both the agent and the anthropologist smiled politely but remained standing.
"We understand you're the owner of this truck?" Booth offered a picture. MacDermid had taken an interest in Brennan and barely glanced at the picture.
"Why don't you let the purty Miss do the talking, Angel Face?" MacDermid wheezed; both Booth and Brennan were uncertain who he was referring to by Angel Face. Brennan felt Booth tense beside her.
Sensing the negative vibes, Brennan stepped in. "Answer the question, please."
"Yeah, sure," he shrugged. "'Fore the 'conomy fell I used to give ice cream to all the kids."
Booth's voice was cold. "And you were charged with pedophilia on many accounts. They were all eventually dropped. Care to explain?"
MacDermid's gaze flicked over to Booth. It was stony.
"The kids would try to come in back and steel some ice cream. People saw them come out of the back o'the truck and me getting all angry."
"Mmm, well, that explains a lot, doesn't it, Bones?"
MacDermid's eyes were slitted. "Why? What happened?"
"The remains of a fifteen year-old girl were found in your truck yesterday." Brennan said.
MacDermid sat back and closed his eyes completely. "I haven't been near that truck in years. Its current state is testimony enough."
"Do you know who had access to it?"
He shrugged. "Many people knew where it was."
Booth nodded and gestured that they should go. MacDermid rose with them.
"'Bye now, don't hesitate to come give Albie here a visit once in awhile, darling, you make everything brighter." He drawled towards Brennan. Booth put a hand on her shoulder blade and ushered her out, physically putting himself in between MacDermid and Brennan. She grinned in amusement.
"What?" He asked in defense when he noticed her grin. Brennan shook her head.
"Nothing," she said. He raised an eyebrow.
"You're fiercely protective," she relented.
"And?"
"And nothing. It was just an observation. I find it endearing and charming."
He pulled away from the curb. "Compliment?"
"Yes."
"Lunch?"
"Sure."
Brennan frowned at the menu.
"Still craving Fruit Loops, aren't you?" He observed. She gave him a sheepish grin.
"Yeah. I guess I'll just have my usual." They ordered and allowed the waitress to take their menus. After she'd left, Booth looked intently at Brennan.
"Bones?" He asked.
"Yes?" She was reorganizing her cutlery. When he didn't answer after a second, Brennan got the hint that the tone was more serious. She looked up.
As usual, she was startled by the intensity and passion of his eyes.
"Yes?" She repeated.
"What are we?"
The bluntness of his question took her by surprise. She blinked at him.
"What are we?" He went on to explain. "What terms describe our relationship?"
She opened her mouth. "Well-" But she topped there. What exactly were they?
"Exactly," Booth sounding displeased. She cocked her head at him.
"Well, I like you very much, and I hope you feel the same. We've been partners, and consequently very close, for many years." She started, and realizing this wasn't having any effect, stopped. She put a hand over his.
"Why do we need a definition? We have each other, nothing else matters."
He smiled faintly. "I guess you're right."
She returned the smile and their food arrived. They were preparing to take the first bite when her cell rang.
"Brennan."
"Angela's facial reconstruction got a hit off of missing persons," Cam said. "Valentine Fitzgerald. She's been missing since last Tuesday."
"That corresponds with time of death."
"Exactly. Clark's started his examination if you'd like to join."
"Yeah, I'll be right there." Brennan flipped shut her phone and turned to Booth.
"Valentine Fitzgerald."
"The vic's name?"
Brennan nodded. "I need to get back to the lab."
"After we eat." He watched her push her food around with her fork listlessly. "Or, after I eat."
Back at the lab, Brennan joined Clark.
"Good day, Mister Edison," she greeted.
"Doctor Brennan," Clark replied.
"Let us begin."
Clark nodded and they began to observe the skeleton, bone by bone, recording everything they found. He noticed that she was rather distracted.
"Something up, Doctor Brennan?" He asked as she observed the lumbar vertebrae. Brennan shifted and set down the bones.
"No, no, back to work," she insisted. But once again, Clark noticed something was off. He caught her staring hungrily at the sternum.
"Doctor Brennan…?" He implored. Brennan shook her head.
"What? Yes, sorry."
Clark put down the magnifier, raising both eyebrows skywards and refusing to continue. Brennan stared at him, considered ordering him back to work, and then sighed.
"I can't stop thinking about Froot Loops. And carrots."
He blinked. "Pardon?"
"It's not too hard to comprehend, Mister Edison, especially being as smart as you. I have an unbearable craving for Fruit Loops. And carrots. Due to extreme hormone unbalances."
Clark swallowed. "I could've lived without knowing that."
For some reason, this amused Brennan. "Do you find talking about hormones with women awkward, Mister Edison?"
Clark stared at her. "Uh…"
"Is it because it implies menstruation?" Brenan huffed. "The naiveté of men these days."
Not believing his ears, he watched as Brennan returned to work.
"Well?" She asked him, and he shook his head.
"Right. Work."
And work they did. Brennan left the lab early, informing Clark that they'd examine the skull the following day as there was no pressing need to since they had no lead. Booth was already at home when she arrived.
He was watching TV but heard her come in and got up to greet her at the door.
"I'm exhausted, have an insane unsatisfied craving, and all I would like is a shower, a warm dinner, and sleep." She warned him as she took off her shoes. He smiled and helped her take off her coat.
"I'm serious."
"I know." He grinned.
"Nothing you can do will change my-" He interrupted her again, meeting her lips with a furious passion. He slammed her up against the door and she responded willingly, kissing him back.
"Dammit," she said uncharacteristically as they parted for breath.
"What?" He whispered into her mouth.
"You are irresistible. It angers me sometimes."
He kissed her again. She slapped his shoulder playfully.
"You know you have that effect!" She accused. "That's just-"
She never finished her sentence.
Later, when they were lying in bed silently – but satisfied – Brennan curled up to Booth and started tracing circles on his chest.
"You can be quite manipulative. Did you know that?"
"I vaguely remember being called that once, yes."
She harrumphed and flopped onto her back. "Your control over me does not seem healthy."
He smiled that smile and leaned over to kiss her. She giggled and smacked him with a pillow, slipping out of bed.
"Where are you going?"
"To prepare my clothes for tomorrow." She replied as she tied her bathrobe. She didn't hear him follow her. She felt him wrap his arms around her and press against her. As usual, she stopped what she was doing and batted down the butterflies that were raging in her stomach. When she had calmed down enough, she continued to organize her overnight bag with Booth wrapped around her, the latter peering over her shoulder.
"You're cute," he said, kissing her hair.
"How so?" She said, grinding her teeth and determined not to let him distract her.
"You pack an overnight bag," he murmured. She gave him a confused sideways glance.
"Cute people can't pack overnight bags?"
"No, not that kind of cute. The little-kid kind of cute. Most people don't pack overnight bags when staying at their lover's."
She frowned. "I don't see how anything else could work."
He chuckled. "You could just permanently leave some clothes here."
She didn't respond for a long time. "I'll take that into consideration. Now, I need to go shower."
He grinned, pulling the bathrobe down to expose her shoulder. "I can help with that."
The next morning Brennan found it extremely difficult to get out of bed, which was odd, because she had always looked forward to work. It had been her life, and it meant seeing Booth and the team. But now she had Booth lying next to her, and all she wanted to do was curl up against him.
This was not reality, however, and with a heavy heart she went through with her morning routine.
She got to the lab at her usual early bird time. Yawning, she started to go over the skeleton again. She picked up the hyoid, which had obvious fractures on it. "Asphyxiation," she murmured to herself. She picked up the skull. "Signs of hemorrhaging." She frowned in concentration. Brennan was excitedly examining other indicators when Cam poked her head into the bone room. She opened her mouth to say something.
"Smothering!" Brennan whipped around and exclaimed to the pathologist. The latter blinked.
"Yes! I was just about to say that." Cam walked up.
"Hemorrhaging on the inside of the skull," Brennan explained. "And a strained hyoid. She was smothered from behind."
"I found fibers in the throat. Hodgins is examining them now."
Brennan set down the bone. "The poor girl," she said. Cam nodded.
"I have more."
Brennan turned to her. "Remember Andy Helms? Our main suspect for the case that involved the two girls, 16 and 17, found smothered in their beds?"
"There was no bone, I wasn't too helpful. But I do remember. You don't think…"
Cam shrugged. "We think what the evidence tells us."
"Did you tell Booth?"
Cam eyed Brennan. "He wasn't too thrilled."
Clark was on his way to the bone room which required him to pass by Brennan's office when he heard the latter. He recognized his mentor and Agent Booth's voices. Not that this wasn't normal, but Clark slowed down anyway. Their subject of choice was interesting.
"We didn't get him last time; we'll get him this time." Brennan reassured.
Booth exhaled. "Yeah. I guess."
There was a pause. "Did you get them?"
"I have a job as well," Booth replied.
"Booth!" she whined.
Clark stopped at the doorway. What was that in her voice? Affection? Towards Booth? Clark's mind stalled. Was that affection affection?
Oh Dear God it was about time.
He peered into the office. Both of them were grinning, faces inches away from each other. Clark's jaw gaped.
Booth pecked Brennan on the lips. "Alright. How about we go question this sonavabitch and then stop by to get groceries?"
Realizing they were headed this way, Clark stumbled backwards, trying his best to be nonchalant as he turned away.
Booth and Brennan passed him.
"Doctor Brennan?"
Brennan turned around. "Yes?"
"Doctor Hodgins got his results. Wool."
She nodded. "Thanks." With that, she joined Booth and the two walked out, leaving Clark to stare wide-eyed after them.
Brennan noted Booth's taught face and tense hands as he drove.
"Booth?"
"Yes?"
"Is there something wrong?"
He tensed further and she persisted.
"This guy is the lead suspect in the huge Davison case. The guy probably took these girls by surprise, raped them, and slaughtered them. He stole daughters away from people, took lives prematurely…" He trailed off.
Her eyes softened and her tone was sympathetic. "And you find immediate connection with our daughter or son-to-be. It's perfectly natural."
He grumbled in reply, looking out the window. Brennan smiled to herself and put a hand on his arm.
"If he's the murdered in our case, you'll catch him! You must believe that."
He looked at her and nodded. They got out of the car and made their way to the interrogation room. Without another word between them, Booth headed into the room where Andy Helms waited, and Brennan into the adjoining.
Booth wasted no time.
"That made of wool?" He snarled, referring to his coat.
Andy Helms narrowed his eyes. "Polyester fleece, actually."
Booth shot flames with his eyes. "Where were you, Andy, the night of Monday before last?"
Helms yawned. "Surely not where you think I was. Otherwise we wouldn't be having this conversation, would we?"
"Just answer the question."
"I was at a bar."
"Which?"
"Peggy's."
"With?"
"Myself."
"Can anyone account for this?"
Helms shrugged. "Maybe."
Booth seethed. "I really don't like your attitude."
The suspect ignored this. "Now, do you have anything actually valid against me or can I go?"
Brennan inhaled. They didn't have anything concrete to link Helms yet.
Booth stared him down before exiting and rejoining Brennan.
"We need more." Booth said.
"I know," she agreed. "I'll start looking right away."
They started towards the door, and Brennan hesitated.
"You know what would really help my concentration skills? …"
Clark was patiently awaiting Doctor Brennan, having been notified of the urgency that they find something. He observed the bones without picking them up, and was growing bored when the expected walked in.
Clark glanced upwards and faltered. Nonchalantly, Brennan plopped down two grocery bags in the corner of the bone room. Clark blinked at the bags as Brennan joined his side, snapping on gloves.
"Mister Edison?" She asked. Clark tore his eyes away from the incredibly out-of-place groceries.
"We must be incredibly focused to be able to solve this case. No distractions," she said firmly.
He nodded. "Of course," and with that, both scientists began to study the skeleton, retreating into their own worlds.
Though, more often than not, Clark would find Brennan staring longingly towards the bags, obviously dreaming about what was inside. This distracted Clark, and he would watch her uncomprehendingly for a few seconds before clearing his mind.
It became quite apparent that Brennan was unable to concentrate. She clearly needed whatever was in the bag, and Clark relented.
Sighing, "Doctor Brennan?"
"Yes?" She barely looked at him. He paused.
"I know it's against protocol, but would you like to have whatever is in those bags?"
Brennan blinked for a moment, surprised and hesitant.
"But… Jeffersonian rules…"
"If it makes you more able to do this effectively, screw them," Clark said. She stared at him, still undecided, but weakened.
"Okay. If you say so," she said, rather cheerfully, and waltzed over to the bags.
He tried very hard not to gape in amazement as she pulled out Fruit Loops and baby carrots. She began hungrily munching away.
Who was this, and what had they done to Brennan? Incredibly, her face lit up and she nearly sprinted back to the bones.
"This angle and these fractures on the hyoid suggest something made of wool was pressed against her throat and pulled backwards, causing both the smothering and the strained hyoid, right?" She didn't wait for a response. "However, the angle at which it is fractured is unusual, suggesting it was someone left-handed, by the odds."
"And?" he barely managed, watching his mentor stuff his face while making incredible observations.
"Andy Helms is right-handed." She said triumphantly, and in that moment, chewing on a baby carrot trimmed with Fruit Loops, she seemed to glow.
Realization slapped him hard across the face, and before he was able to surface from this blinded transfixed state, Brennan had already left.
It made so much sense! Her and Agent Booth, the abnormal craving that went above and beyond menstruation… Brennan was pregnant!
Once again, it was like an explosion in his head. The enormity of it was… great, actually. This was wonderful news!
That night, Booth and Brennan got home late but satisfied. Thanks to Brennan's memory – she remembered one of the teens they'd questioned at the victim's school had been left-handed – the case was closed. The student had been extremely frustrated that the victim had gotten the lead role and had smothered her from behind with a costume.
Exhausted yet content, they set down their things and shrugged off their coats, slumping onto Booth's living room couch. Booth got himself a beer and her some water and sat next to her.
They stayed there in silence, neither of them feeling the need for words.
"It's funny," Booth commented, "how this went."
Brennan sipped at the cold drink. "What do you mean?"
"Well, we immediately jumped to huge possibilities," he started.
"We went where the evidence told us to go."
"We thought the perp was a pedophile and then a serial killer," Booth said bluntly.
"It ended up just being a kid who was jealous because Valentine got the lead role in Othello," she finished.
"Exactly," Booth said and the room fell silent as they pondered this.
"What is this, Bones?" He took a swig of beer. "What are we doing?"
Brennan sighed. "This again."
He nodded, leaning forward, eyes exploring hers.
"Why must you define this, whatever this is?" She met his gaze.
He shrugged. "I'm not sure. It's what I do. I've learned life becomes easier when I get your definition of things though."
"I'm with your child, for a start."
He put a hand up to stop her, leaning closer. "I know, I know. But, what do you feel? What is this, me, to you?"She swallowed his face tantalizingly close. Wait… She narrowed her eyes, grinned, and pulled away.
"You're doing it again!"
"I have no idea what you're talking about," he said innocently, approaching again. She pushed him back.
"The irresistible thing!" She exclaimed and he continued his little act. She rolled her eyes and let him come closer, turning a little more serious as she studied his lips. She seemed to shrink, sliding under him, and soon enough her lips and his collided softly. Her body flooded with desire and she responded, grinding her hips against his. He groaned.
"This can't keep happening," she panted.
"Sex?" He asked, incredulous.
"No, not that." She blushed. "I have to be able to resist you to a certain point."
"Why?" Distracted.
She sighed, closing her eyes and giving him a brief kiss. "I don't think it's a good thing for you to have this advantage."
"I'm not that cruel, mean, or evil. Trust me; I'll put it to good use." He blew into her ear. She moaned, composed herself, and shook her head, putting two firm hands on his ruffled shirt and pushing up, forcing him to look her in the eyes.
Booth was about to complain and noticed they had become serious. He searched them, waiting patiently.
"If it's okay with you, I'd like to take you up on your offer and bring some clothes over this weekend. Permanently."
His eyes lit up and he grinned, diving for her mouth. Brennan wrapped her arms around his neck and they rolled over, crashing to the floor, never giving it a second thought.
Brennan showed Booth what he meant to her – all night long.