A/N: Welcome back everybody, and welcome to yet another Bones hiatus. Fanfiction will just have to tide us over, and the return of other shows from their winter breaks. We're getting closer to the end of this story! But have no fear... there is still plenty of angst to go around.
Chapter 17
September 5th, 2011
"I know it's probably still too early for this, but I want to suggest an idea for Thanksgiving," Angela said, placing her fork down and looking around expectantly at the three of them, gauging reactions. "I think it would be nice if we were to trade off. You know, one year Jack and I will host, and then the next it could be the two of you, and then Cam, maybe even Sweets… I mean, if everyone wants to do a big dinner."
"That actually sounds really nice," Booth agreed, nodding. He glanced at Brennan beside him, stunning in a red dress that proudly showed off her baby bump. She smiled back at him, turning to face Angela as she answered.
"It sounds like a lot of work, but I do enjoy the idea. I haven't really had a chance to have a large family Thanksgiving dinner in a… very long time. And Christmas that time a few years ago was nice."
Angela's eyes sparkled. "Oh, I have big plans for Christmas."
Hodgins chuckled. "Watch her. If she has her way, no one else will even get a chance to host at their place."
Angela cast him a reprising look. "Hey, can you blame me for wanting to start a tradition? 'The Hodgins-Montenegro Annual Christmas Eve Party…' It has quite a ring to it, right?"
Booth couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah, it does, Ange."
"I'm doomed," Hodgins announced, and Angela punched him playfully on the shoulder.
The waiter dropped by, to ask them what they thought of their meals so far, and they all murmured their agreement over the quality of their dishes in unison, forks clinking as the champagne in the men's glasses was refilled, and the women's water was replenished.
It was a nice restaurant, far fancier than Booth would have guessed upon hearing the original suggestion for the evening out with their friends. This was the sort of place he would take Bones were he planning to propose, not the sort of place he normally would choose for a night out. The atmosphere spoke of special occasions, and while he had no ring and no plans, he had to admit it was befitting.
They had not formally celebrated her pregnancy, he realized. This night marked the joy that they all felt within them since the news had broken only days ago. Brennan was eating a healthy amount again, working regular hours and sleeping heavily. They were back to fretting about the small details rather than the large ones, back to their easy bantering and their long nights of laughter in the kitchen as they first worked together to cook and then fought soap-suds wars in the clean-up aftermath.
Things were the way they were supposed to be.
That was worth celebrating.
The night of the doctor's appointment, the night that it had been confirmed for them that her pregnancy was in the clear, they hadn't really talked about the days that had come before. A part of him had wanted to, worried about her and wondering if she wanted to share and get it all off of her chest now that their fears had been cleared away. But instead they had gone through baby books, looking at ideas for the nursery and once more delving into lists of baby names.
Amelia. Sophie. Teresa. Kaitlyn.
They were starting to narrow down, and Booth noted a pattern in the choices that she proposed. The simple, familiar names that she pointed out to him all spoke to her desire for their child to live a normal life. She, like he himself, was far from fond of her own first name. He had to agree that there were better options out there for their child than old-fashioned names or overly modern ones. There was a point when trying to make a child stand out worked just a little too well. She never said it, but he knew that she was taking into account how the name would be perceived by their daughter's peers when she grew up.
It was rational, and it was Bones. For once, he was one hundred percent behind the decision.
She tentatively explained to him, as they were flipping through the 'A' section of one of the dog-eared baby books she had gotten from her best friend, that she would like their daughter's middle name to be Angela.
The way she said it, though, was almost like she was afraid he would be opposed to the idea. He had kissed her warmly, and then murmured, "Perfect."
And truly, it was. That was another thing, that Angela and Jack would be the godparents. Both of them had been thinking it, so there was no trouble when he raised the topic. Who else would there be? Booth had very little family remaining, and while he loved his brother, he didn't see him enough. Sometimes he felt like he barely knew him. Then there was Max, who Booth had only been somewhat worried about. Bones agreed at once that Angela and Jack were the obvious choices, saying she had been thinking the same thing. Neither she nor him brought up the idea of her father, and they didn't discuss where he would belong in their daughter's life, either.
Max was an interesting person. While Booth knew without a doubt that he loved Brennan, and that he would be willing to do absolutely anything, inside and outside of the law, for her… he wasn't sure he would trust the man around their child. It wasn't that he wouldn't be capable of taking care of a baby, it was that he had failed Bones so horribly the first time around. Second chances were great, but Booth prescribed to them only in certain situations, with certain people. Max, unfortunately, was not one of those people.
For someone who claimed to be so protective of his family, Booth would love to know where he had been for those two days she had spent locked in the trunk of her foster parent's car. Perhaps seeing a movie? Working on the next con?
Yes, Max Keenan would be an issue down the road, when he no doubt appeared with the interest of seeing his granddaughter. Booth hadn't seen or heard from him since the bowling case. He wondered if Bones had even told him she was expecting. For now, though, he pushed aside those concerns.
They were out to dinner with friends. There was plenty of time to deal with family matters later; right now he wanted to sit here with his beautiful girlfriend, finish off a wonderful meal, and spend the evening free of all things related to murder and undercover drug ring takedown operations.
"When should we plan your baby shower for?" Angela was asking Brennan when Booth tuned back into the conversation at hand.
"I really have no idea. And… there's really no need for a party. Besides, it would be a rather small gathering if I was to have one. I don't have a long list of friends from college like you do."
Angela waved off her concerns. "Doesn't matter. Cam is looking forward to this. I am looking forward to this. I'm sure Shaw would love to attend. It will be quiet and enjoyable, and you will love it. Agreed?"
Brennan opened her mouth, closed it again, and then finally gave up and laughed. "Oh, fine."
Angela clapped her hands together. "How does next Saturday sound?"
She cast a look in his direction, and he shrugged. Sighing, she turned back to her friend. "I guess that will be fine. We don't have any plans, after all."
"No, but we should make some," Booth said suddenly, tipping his head to the side and reaching his arm out so it wrapped around her shoulders. "The weekend after that, maybe. We should get away, have some time to ourselves for a while, don't you think?"
"That's actually a great idea," Angela said encouragingly. "Once that little bundle of joy shows up in your lives… all of your free time just disappears. And your sleep, too. Gone."
"I don't remember the last time I slept through the whole night," Hodgins agreed with a nod. "Enjoy the peace while you can. But don't get me wrong," he turned to share a grin with Angela, "It's all worth it."
"I know," Booth agreed, grinning. It was going to be worth it, no matter how hard it might get down the road. And he promised himself he would never regret even a single second of it. Not so long as he had Bones right by his side to go through it with him.
He squeezed her shoulder, and she smiled hesitantly at him before turning her attention back to her dish to take another bite of her meal. He knew that she was still nervous about this. Change was something she was admittedly not very good at handling. She had told him so herself. But so far, she had adapted pretty well to it. And she was ready. He was confident in that belief. She could do this, and she was going to be great at it, too.
"So what do you think of Shaw and Sweets?" Angela asked, dabbing at her lips with her napkin and glancing between the both of them with raised, curious eyebrows.
"They seem very compatible," Bones commented.
"Surprisingly," Booth added.
"I think they're adorable," Angela said pointedly. "For a while I thought he might end up with Daisy for life, and while they were good together in their own… quirky sort of way, I always felt like they were trying too hard."
"Not to mention she was impossible," Hodgins muttered. "Ow!" he added, shooting a look at his wife.
"Sorry. She was nice. And she tried so hard, it was kind of endearing."
Hodgins reached down to rub his wounded leg, shaking his head.
"Shaw and him seem to be getting along really well," Angela continued. "Who knows. Maybe we'll see another engagement in the lab sometime soon."
Brennan frowned. "They haven't even known each other for a year, Ange. And while Sweets is prone to jumping into situations, I think he learned a great deal from his dealings with Daisy."
Angela nodded her acknowledgment. "Good point. Still, though. I think he might have finally found somebody. Time will tell."
"He has come a long way since we first met him," Brennan said thoughtfully.
"The baby duckling is all grown up," Booth murmured, reaching for his glass of champagne.
"Yes he is," Angela agreed warmly, grinning. "And I think our misfit group of parents did a pretty good job of raising him."
"And probably messing him up pretty good, when you think about it," Hodgins pointed out. "You have to admit, a group of scientists teaching the kid how to investigate murders isn't the most conventional way to enter adulthood."
"Ah, but who ever said conventional was the best way to do anything?" Booth asked with the raise of an eyebrow, his lips quirked up in a grin.
"I can toast to that," Angela said, holding up her glass. The rest of them joined in, glasses clinking together.
~BxBxBxBxBxB~
"You know, sometimes I feel like we never grew up," Booth commented as he and Brennan let themselves into their home.
"That's illogical, Booth. You and I have built complex lives and had many adult experiences that would indicate otherwise."
He chuckled, knowing he should have expected that reaction. "I meant with the way the lab operates… it's like high school all over again. Out to dinner with friends, and there we are gossiping about the ones that aren't there with us."
She nodded slowly, a crease between her eyebrows. "I suppose that does fit the stereotypical high school situation. I personally never dealt with that experience in high school, though."
"Getting it first-hand, now, right Bones? And hey, we get to sit at the cool kids table together." He nudged her shoulder, grinning widely, before he helped relieve her of her coat.
"I would hardly refer to us as the cool kids," she said, but her eyes betrayed her amusement. She let him take the coat, resting her hands on her hips as she watched him hang it up in the closet for her. "You were a jock in high school, but the rest of us were what you would call 'nerds.' Diversity such as that would not fit into the culture that is cultivated in most teenage environments, which are rich with sub-cultures and undeclared rules that each member of the population, by definition, knows they must not break."
"And what if the high school itself was unconventional?" He challenged. "At the Jeffersonian… the best and the brightest are the popular ones. Tell me I'm wrong."
"In that context… the scientists in the top of their field would be sitting at the popular table. That would be myself, Hodgins, and Cam. Angela as well, if we were disregarding the significance of titles."
"You wound me, Bones."
She was getting interested in their hypothetical debate, now, though, and she regarded him thoughtfully.
"I'm not saying you aren't the best. I'm saying that, were the Jeffersonian a high school—which it is not—popularity would be determined by demand. I am in high demand for not only my own team but others as well. Other institutes want my consultations, television shows ask for my expertise… I believe that would be equivalent to colleges fighting over the best student athletes."
He nodded approvingly, impressed. They had these discussions every now and again. Scientific debates that he could actually follow. She had gotten good at accepting the constraints of the hypothetical situations, where once she would have turned her nose up at them and told him he was being silly because that would never happen. Now, she seemed to find them enjoyable. A challenge. And she had told him, not long ago, that she was excited that they could discuss her field and her interests together, rather than the usual situation where he listened—and comprehended very little—while she explained.
He was proud of how far she had come, and he loved her all the more with every small detail he noticed about how she had evolved along with him over the years. Her jokes could still be cringe-worthy, but they were also adorable. And they filled him with a sense of joy when he watched her happiness and the laughter that would glimmer in her eyes.
"In all likelihood, you would not be attending this Jeffersonian high school," she continued. "You would be at another school nearby." She smiled, her eyes lighting up, and she raised her eyebrows and said. "Hoover Academy?"
He couldn't help but laugh. "Sounds about right, there, Bones. Although a bit preppy. Academy?"
"Does institute sound better?"
He winced. "Yeah, let's leave it the way it was."
"If we continue with the analogy, though, you would be the top of the social pyramid at the Hoover school. The one sitting at the popular table with the other top agents."
"I'm trying to see how this is going to end with both of us sitting at the same table. Because I'm going to be disappointed if that doesn't work out."
"Oh?" she asked, stepping forward and placing her palms flat on his chest. He grinned wolfishly.
"Let me finish," she chided, though, and lithely stepped away. He followed her to the couch. "Let us hypothesize that for some reason, you were to get a transfer to the Jeffersonian."
"Somehow this sounds like a downgrade," he commentated.
She ignored the comment, casting him a warning look despite her smile. "At this new school, you are no longer on top. But, you possess many… desirable qualities. And your new peers, while finding you to be an outcast and possibly resenting you—" he pouted, and she shoved his shoulder lightly "—also have to recognize that you are the best in your own field. And the… naturally curious head of the social pyramid at the Jeffersonian would be interested in seeing what that meant."
"Would she now?"
"Yes, she would. In this way… you would find yourself inducted into the new social network at the top of the pyramid. Courtesy solely of your new girlfriend, of course."
"Oh, so that's why, is it?"
She leaned in closer, her face only inches from his, and smiled temptingly. "Yes, it is. Problem?"
"Nope… no problem at all," he said, and captured her lips with his own.
~BxBxBxBxBxB~
September 10th
As Brennan had predicted, the baby shower was a relatively small gathering in comparison to the elaborate and crowded party that Angela had held for herself. The only guests were Cam, Angela, and Shaw, but they all insisted it was better that way, as they had all attended over-the-top parties in the past, and found them tedious and headache-giving.
Brennan had declined when Angela had asked if she wanted to involve games, and so the women sat around and discussed babies, local schools, and stories from their own childhoods. Booth was out for the evening with Hodgins, who had gotten them box seats at a college football game.
The conversation turned to men as they were finishing their tea and cake.
"So what is this I hear about Sweets training as an agent?" Cam asked curiously.
Shaw smiled, "It's actually something he's been thinking about for a long time, now, but he's never gotten around to it. I think he's always been worried he might not be able to pull it off. And I'm not sure how I would feel about him running around, chasing criminals with a gun."
Angela chuckled. "And how does he feel about you doing that?"
"Supportive, of course," Shaw acknowledged. "But he worries, even though he doesn't say it. I'm going to support him if this is what he wants."
"I think he could make a very adept agent," Brennan put in. "He possesses the necessary logic skills, and he is highly skilled at reading and understanding motives and intentions. Of course, he will need to improve his hand-eye coordination in order to master the arms test. Otherwise, they'll never let him into the field."
"He's been practicing," Shaw informed them, her eyes sparkling as she leaned forward. "He goes to the range a few times a week. I haven't been with him yet, but his scores… are pretty high up there. He knows what he's doing."
"I'm surprised Booth hasn't mentioned Sweets' interest in becoming an agent to me." Brennan said, setting down her empty cake dish on top of Angela's.
"Actually… he hasn't told Booth yet. Could you not tell him, either? I just… I know he's been waiting to bring it up, and Booth's support will be really important to him. So it would be better if he didn't know ahead of time."
Brennan nodded, but internally she wondered if Booth would support Sweets' decision.
"I think it's about time that Bren opened her presents," Angela said, reaching forward to select a box from the top of the small pile.
"Oh, that one's from me," Cam said, straightening up in her seat and watching expectantly, her fingers tapping nervously on her lap as Brennan opened the card.
I'm so happy for the both of you. Congratulations! She had written on the inside.
Brennan smiled, setting it aside and peeling the wrapping paper away. It appeared to be a box set featuring plush toy animals. Two lions, a warthog, and what appeared to be a meerkat.
"They're from The Lion King," Cam explained. "It's a Disney Movie. It's in there, too, actually."
Brennan spotted the DVD behind the stuffed toys, and nodded. "It looks like a… cute movie. I was never really into animated films as a child, so I can't say I've seen it."
"Well, it's more for you and Booth at this point anyways. She won't be watching movies for a few years. I just thought I'd help you get started with a Disney collection. Michelle had one, when I was living with her back when she was a little girl."
"It's lovely. Thank you, Cam."
Cam smiled warmly back, and Angela was already handing over the next gift.
"Mine," Shaw said with a quick nod, when Brennan glanced towards her as she opened the envelope. There was no package attached, so she read the message of congratulations on the inside of the card and then turned her attention to the slip of paper that had been inside.
It was a gift certificate for a home surveillance company.
"So you can keep an eye on the baby if you have a babysitter, and so you can check in when they're older and getting home from school. And be alerted to burglars, of course."
"Thank you," Brennan said gratefully, lifting her gaze to meet the younger woman's. "This will be… really useful. I appreciate it."
"And now mine," Angela said, having of course saved her own for last. Brennan laughed, accepting the box and raising an eyebrow as she realized how light it was. No card besides a tag that read Brennan, so she went straight to opening it.
Inside she found a paint tray and a thin piece of cardboard with Angela's flourishing script written across it. I am painting your nursery. You do not have a say in this. Also, I just want to say that I always knew you and Booth would figure it out. Love you, sweetie. Congrats.
She looked up and met Angela's eyes. "I… wow. Thank you, Ange. I know she's going to love it." Cam was leaning forward to try to read what the gift was, so she explained what Angela was giving her to the group.
"Booth knew, didn't he?" she asked her friend.
Angela grinned bashfully. "Yeah, he did. I had to make sure you two didn't go ahead and start painting without me. And I'm really glad that it lined up this way, with my pregnancy being over in time for me to decorate for yours. I didn't get to paint Michael's room because of the fumes, so I just had Hodgins do a solid color and I'm going to go over it in a few years when he's grown up enough to tell me if he wants race cars or teddy bears."
"That works," Brennan agreed. "And I'm sure he will be appreciative."
"So what is Booth getting you for your birthday?" Angela asked, abruptly changing the topic.
Brennan cast her a glare, glancing quickly at the other two, who suddenly looked far too interested. "When is your birthday?" Cam asked, as if she had only just now realized she didn't know. And for good reason; Brennan didn't advertise, and always struggled to keep Angela's excitement about the 'holiday' under wraps.
"We're going away, actually," she said, raising an eyebrow challengingly. No party, Angela, she thought firmly.
"A vacation," Shaw said. "That sounds nice. It's been forever since I've gotten away for anything other than visiting my relatives during the Christmas season."
"We aren't going far," Brennan explained. "We're just going to rent a cabin for a long weekend away. I didn't want to do anything big, and since he was being very… adamant about celebrating, I told him we should push back and extend our original plan to go away for a weekend. I told him no gifts."
"But he's not going to listen," Angela said, grinning mischievously. "I know it, you know it… might as well face the facts, Bren."
Brennan scowled. "I don't understand why he has to make such a big deal about it."
"Maybe because he's never gotten to celebrate it before and up until now you wouldn't even tell him when it was?"
"And when exactly is that?" Cam queried again.
"October eleventh," Angela answered, smiling triumphantly at her friend.
Brennan narrowed her eyes, seriously hoping they weren't planning on throwing her a party. There was something about her birthday that she had never enjoyed. The only one she could remember looking forward to had been her eighteenth, and that had not been a good experience. Freedom from the system meant many things. But it did not mean she had anywhere to go. All it meant was that now there were no other homes, and no more calls to her social worker. All it had meant was that she was living under someone elses roof, technically as an adult, trying to finish her final year of high school. It meant she had nowhere else to go. And her foster parents had known that.
For the first time, she found herself wondering if she should explain that to Booth.
~BxBxBxBxBxB~
"Did you have a good time today?" Booth asked, settling himself down on the couch beside her and looping an arm around her shoulders.
"Yes, for the most part."
"For the most part?" he questioned. "Did Angela go overboard?"
"No, no… it was really nice. Quiet. I liked it. And the gifts were really thoughtful."
"Yeah, I saw," he said, nodding towards the table where the gifts were sitting. "I like the idea of having a security system in here. That was a good idea."
"Yes, I thought it was very thoughtful of Shaw. And Cam's gift was cute, although I'm sure it makes more sense to you than it did to me."
"Lion King?" Booth asked, his face lighting up. "Don't tell me… we're adding another movie to the list of what I must make you watch with me?"
She laughed. "Yes, Booth. We are."
He must have seen that her eyes didn't light up the way they normally would when he teased her, because his smile faded away and he regarded her curiously. "Is there something else on your mind, Bones?"
She hesitated, twisting her lips and wondering if she really wanted to bring it up. Finally, she decided to just explain. She wasn't about to tell him the whole story; it was long, and painful, and she didn't think she could even handle speaking the words. But he deserved to know, at least in part, why she had such a strong aversion to her birthday. And why she wished he wouldn't make a big deal out of the day.
"I don't want anything for my birthday, Booth," she said at last. "Please just… don't get me anything, okay?"
It could have ended there, had he simply accepted that. But he was Booth.
"What if I really want to, though, and I don't see any harm in it? You got me something for mine, remember?"
She remembered the small token; a coin from a pirate exhibit which she had purchased at a charity auction several years ago. He had seen it in her apartment and said he liked it.
"Sometimes, I just want to do something special for you. To celebrate. And I know you don't like your birthday, and a lot of people don't like their birthdays… but it's not all about turning another year older, or anything like that. It's just… an opportunity for me to show you how much you mean to me."
She blinked, almost forgetting her original thought process. How was it possible to love someone this much?
"My birthday… it has nothing to do with getting older." She said, shaking her head and getting back on track. "I mean, it does. But… my reason for not enjoying it has nothing to do with that."
He frowned, and she sucked in a sharp breath, her mind spinning and her gut churning. How to explain something like this to him, without leading him into further questions—the kind of questions she simply couldn't answer for him?
"When I first entered the system, I thought that by turning eighteen I would be able to get out." Realization dawned in his eyes, as he recognized that this was about foster care; about the teenage years she had always so very carefully avoided bringing up. "But when I reached that age, I realized that… things didn't work that way.
"I wanted to go to college; at the time it was because I wanted to become a science teacher. I had not yet narrowed down my exact career, but I always knew I wanted to go into the field. And that was something that couldn't happen without a degree. I had been living in the same house for two months, at the time, and so I figured I would just stay there until I graduated, and then move to a university. I was already working on applying to several, and I had a guidance counselor who was… very helpful at finding me scholarships."
She swallowed sharply, feeling his gaze boring into her even though she was focusing mostly on her hands.
"My foster father… was not a kind man." That was a light way to put it, and her fingers clenched together subconsciously. "They made me work harder, the moment I was officially aged out of the system. They weren't getting paid by the government to house me anymore, and so… they seemed to think that they could handle me however they wanted."
She chanced a glance at him, and found him staring right back at her, his gaze soft despite his stiff posture. His hands, too, were clenched in his lap.
"They locked you in the trunk of their car," he said. It was not a question.
She nodded. "Yes. At some point, they decided that I was… ungrateful for what they had done for me." She spat the word, recalling the long days she had been made to clean every inch of their horrible home, and the nights… A shiver ran, unwelcome, down her spine. "They're punishments were unorthodox, like the trunk."
"There were others?" he demanded, his voice rough and furious.
She cut her eyes away from him, and nodded, beginning again hesitantly. "They would… lock me in the basement sometimes. If he was particularly angry… or drunk… he would put me in the old, broken refrigerator down there." She was silent for a moment, and then she said carefully, "I think they enjoyed it. Making me claustrophobic. Preying on that with each new punishment…"
"Bones," he said, his voice hoarse. He cleared his throat. "How did… how did you..?"
"I ran away," she admitted. "I…" she lifted her head and turned it up towards the ceiling, her eyes closed. She chewed her lip for a moment, working over the words in her head. "I lived on the street for a while," she murmured softly.
Booth cursed under his breath, and she winced.
"What were their names?" Booth demanded, a hint of desperation to his tone.
She shot him an alarmed look, and shook her head. "I don't… you aren't going after them, Booth."
"What they did to you…"
"They are serving their time," she said firmly. "I came forward, after I started school at Northwestern. All they had was my testimony, but by then they had taken in another foster kid, and they had all the evidence they needed in that case."
There was a long pause, while Booth seemed to be processing. "You probably saved that other kid's life," he said at last.
"Maybe," she said softly. But I didn't save her from the worst of it. "I didn't tell you this so you could… go seek revenge for me. Or so that you would… pity me, Booth. I told you because… I don't want you to make a big deal about my birthday. And I wanted you to know, because I don't want to have secrets from you."
She had more. Many more. But this was a start, and she was glad for it.
He nodded slowly. "What about our trip?"
"The trip isn't a gift from you to me. It is a gift to both of us, from both of us. And we need some time away. Plus… I find that it's nice to separate myself from the rest of the world, so I can forget. Doing that with you is just… a much better alternative."
He regarded her for a moment, and then pulled her against him and wrapped his arms around her. "I'm sorry, Bones," he whispered into her hair. "For… everything that you went through. If I could change it… I would do anything."
She clutched him back just as tightly, but she shook her head. "It's over. It's… been over for a long time." Pulling back, she smiled tentatively at him, determined to lighten the mood. She felt like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders, and she desperately wanted to make sure it had not landed squarely on Booth's instead. "I have you, now. And her," she added, carefully extricating his hand from their embrace and guiding it to rest on the swell of her stomach. "That's all that really matters."
He nodded in agreement, giving her one quick, gentle kiss.
"And if I decide to give you gifts throughout the year to make up for no birthday presents..?"
She laughed. "Then I can hardly stop you. Although I'd prefer if you didn't spend too much on me. And don't get me a car. I never understood those commercials that tried to portray that as a good financial decision."
He chuckled, "I don't think that will be a problem, Bones. Now, what do you say we watch Lion King and try to relax?"
"I say that sounds like a nice idea. So long as you don't sing. Angela gave the impression there was singing involved."
"Oh, baby, I am going to sing."
She groaned, laughing at the same time, as he pulled her to her feet with him and danced her around in front of the television screen, singing something about the 'circle of life' and replacing around half the word with indistinct humming noises.
I don't own Lion King. Or Bones, for that matter. Big shocker, right? Anyways, I hope you enjoyed, and that you realize that I am back in college with a busy schedule and your feedback is only going to speed up my writing process to guarantee there won't be a sad lack of an update next week. *hint hint*
