Bet y'all thought this story was never coming back, huh? It hasn't died in my head yet, so I'm going to keep chipping away for a while longer. Thanks for your patience.
Disclaimer: I don't own Bones.
A slow rumble echoed throughout the house and Angela watched as Christine tightened her grip on a stuffed rabbit, borrowed from Michael Vincent. Angela placed a hand on the stuffed animal and stroked a soft, worn spot on one of its ears. "Is this guy helping the storm not be so scary?"
"Kinda," Christine whispered, still staring at the window to watch for more lightening. "I wish it was Al, though."
Apparently in her haste to get out of the house before Booth and the attackers destroyed nearly everything, Brennan had failed to pack Christine's stuffed rabbit Al, which was nearly identical to the one her parents had given Michael Vincent at his birth. Angela was silently hoping the poor rabbit could still be recovered from the ruins of the home.
"I know."
"Can't we go get Al?"
Angela shook her head. "I'm sorry, Christine. Hopefully we'll find him soon." Upon realizing Christine's favorite stuffed animal was missing, Angela had texted both Wendell and Finn, who had managed to sneak into the Booth/Brennan home for a few minutes earlier that day. She urged them to return to look for Christine's prized possession — as well as anything else that might be salvaged.
She gazed back at Christine. "You sure you're not sleepy?"
Christine shook her head.
"OK." Angela planted a kiss on her goddaughter's hair, still damp from a bath earlier in the evening. "I think I'm going to fix popcorn. Would you like some?"
A simple shake of the head answered Angela's question.
"Well, how about another cookie?" She watched as Christine's brow furrowed — a surefire tell just like her mother's. "I think that might be a yes, huh?" She grinned and lightly tapped a finger over the tiny lines between the little girl's eyebrows.
A clap of thunder made both of them jump, and Christine promptly dove into Angela's lap. Angela began to laugh, only to be promptly stopped by a sob from the little girl.
"Hey, what's wrong? Are you scared?" Angela watched as a nod answered her. "It's OK, I'm right here. We're safe inside. Come on, let's get those cookies and my popcorn." She swung Christine onto one hip, feeling the child's arms tighten around her and realized, "She is really scared. Why on earth can't I remember what we did when Michael Vincent went through this phase?"
Christine was eerily quiet as she watched Angela's moves around the kitchen. She clung to Angela, staring in silence as they both waited for the popcorn to finish.
"You sure you don't want any? I'll make you up a bowl that doesn't have any spices in it."
Again, Christine shook her head.
"OK." Angela opened the microwave to retrieve her snack, internally wanting to groan at the time displayed on the digital counter: "1:07 a.m. I'm never going to get this child to sleep." She struggled with opening the popcorn bag for a moment before setting Christine down on the countertop. Almost immediately, the exhausted little girl's lip began to quiver.
"Sweetie, hey." Angela gave a reassuring smile. "I just need both hands for a minute to fix these snacks." She tried to distract Christine by asking her to help pull several small bottles from the spice rack, but after a minute, it was clear Christine was about ready to cry again.
"OK, OK." Angela tossed a few shakes from the paprika jar onto the popcorn, and then reached for Christine again. "Can I hand you my popcorn bowl? I need a free hand to get your cookies." She reached for a higher cabinet and pulled out a small container. "You like chocolate chip, right?"
"Uh huh."
"Good. We have those and a few thin mints." Angela headed back into the den, her arms full with Christine, popcorn, and the cookies. "And I'll even share the thin mints with you if you want." She lowered her voice to whisper with a grin, "Don't tell Uncle Jack."
Christine gave a quizzical look.
"I have to hide them from Uncle Jack. He eats all of them if he sees them."
"Oh." Christine gave an understanding nod. "Mommy does the same thing with Daddy sometimes."
"Yep. It's a mommy secret."
A little over an hour later, Hodgins stepped into the den, his acute case of bedhead communicating to Angela that he had indeed been asleep without her for a while.
"Angie, when are you coming to bed?" His voice, though husky from sleep, still had a concerned tone.
She held out a thin mint as a peace offering and scooted over on the couch as an invitation for him to join her.
"Still not asleep, huh?" Hodgins glanced over at Christine, who was on the other end of the couch, staring at the TV, not acknowledging that Hodgins had joined them.
"Yeah. Not a fan of storms."
"Why don't you just put her in bed with us?" Hodgins sighed. "I know, I know … you're not a fan of doing that, but …"
"We quit doing it with Michael when he was two – we can't do now with her. Plus, that will keep both of us awake. At least one of us should be somewhat alert tomorrow at work."
"I guess." Hodgins ran one hand through his hair and put the other arm around Angela's shoulders. "I'll take the shift tomorrow night."
"Deal." Angela had just settled in comfortably, leaning on Hodgins' shoulder, when a clap of thunder sent Christine scurrying into Angela's lap again. After the sky lit up briefly, Christine buried her face in Angela's chest and began to cry again.
"Shhhh." Angela gently pressed one hand over Christine's ear to block out the following rumble. "Sweetheart, it's just a storm. We're OK."
Christine was not to be consoled that quickly, and the storm kicking back up didn't help things. After ten minutes, frustrated Angela found herself trying not to join Christine in crying.
"Be right back." Hodgins sprang up from the couch, headed straight for Michael Vincent's room. He returned seconds later with bulky neon green headphones, a recent gift from Angela's father. Plugging them into his phone, he scrolled for a moment or two before leaning over toward Christine. "Hey. We're going to block out the scary storm, OK? Can you put these on for me?"
Bewildered, Christine blinked away some of her tears. "W-what?"
"Let's try these on." Hodgins slipped the headphones over Christine's blonde hair and tapped his phone screen. He waited, watching Christine's reaction. When she didn't appear upset, he picked her up from Angela's lap and slowly paced around the room with her.
Almost five minutes of silence had gone by before Angela dared to open her mouth. "You are a genius."
"She's not asleep yet."
"No, but she's calm for the first time all night."
Hodgins grinned. "I'm just wondering why we didn't think to do this when Michael Vincent went through his 'storms are scary' phase."
"I never thought I'd say this, but remind me to thank my dad for those headphones."
Next chapter is already partially written, so hopefully it won't take months (like this one did). Thanks for reading.