Present Day
They were sitting at her kitchen table, eating Chinese out of cardboard containers. Other than the sounds of an easy Sun Ra album playing in the background, it was quiet. She was reading the latest issue of Anthropology Today, and he was letting his mind wander idly.
His eyes came to rest on her. Whatever she was reading, apparently it was riveting, because her brow was furrowed in concentration and she had stopped taking bites of her rice and was focusing completely on whatever article had caught her attention. Her eyes scanned the words quickly and easily. He had flipped through one of those magazines in her office a time or two- very, very dull. It had captivated her attention, though, which didn't surprise him.
He waited until she had finished reading the article and then said, "Bones, I really want to thank you for letting me stay here. It's much better than a hotel."
"Angela coerced me into it." she said without looking up from the periodical.
"Wow, Bones, if I had known it was so-"
"I was kidding, Booth! I'm allowed to do that, right?" she finally made eye contact, giving him a smile.
"Of course!" he let out a breath. "I'm just… not used to it."
She chuckled. "Well, I'm learning. Really, it's no trouble, I've already told you that. And Angela had nothing to do with my decision."
Booth's apartment building was being worked on- something about extensive termite damage in the lower floors- and he'd been asked to vacate his home for at least two weeks. He had mentioned this to Bones, complaining about being forced to live in a hotel, and she had swiftly and graciously offered him her guest bedroom.
Honestly, living in her apartment didn't seem all that different. They were working on cases together more often than not, ate dinner with each other most nights a week, and almost always completed paperwork together.
And it certainly wasn't like spending time with her was a burden, after all.
----
She rose from her seat to help Booth with the dishes, but he insisted on cleaning up alone.
"Please. It's the least I can do." he had said. So she settled for watching him and enjoying light, pleasant conversation.
She had offered him her guest bedroom without even thinking about it, because she knew that's exactly what he would've done if the roles were reversed. To her mild surprise, she really enjoyed him staying there. They had dinner together almost every evening, anyway, so things didn't change all that much. And despite her occasional whining, she didn't mind him using the extra time together to immerse her in popular culture. He insisted that wasn't his intention, but they'd watched so many movies and television shows since he'd arrived that she couldn't keep them all straight. But she appreciated his effort, and she had to admit, she'd been enjoying herself.
Booth interrupted her musings. "Bones, Bones, you know what we should do?" he asked eagerly. She smiled at how boyish he looked.
"What should we do, Booth?" she asked indulgently.
"We should make cookies!" he exclaimed.
She furrowed her brow in confusion. "Why… why would we do that?"
But Booth didn't answer, he was already rifling through her cupboards.
"Booth? What are you doing?" she asked, standing up.
"Cookbook , cookbook…" he was muttering to himself. "Aha!" he shouted.
He had opened her spice cupboard and located the green and yellow box marked "Recipes." He reached for it.
"Stop!" she said suddenly. He swiftly pulled his hand away as though something had bit it. "There... aren't any recipes in there."
She crossed the room quickly and shut the cupboard door.
He stared at her with his mouth open. She felt bad at her sudden, unwarranted outburst.
"Sorry." she said quickly. "I just... cookbooks are over here." she told him as she led him to the correct cupboard. "I don't use them very much. Or really... ever." She gave an unconvincing chuckle and tried to avoid his confused glances.
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