Frankie707 had a prompt: pancakes
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Waking, Brennan stretched her arms and was surprised to find that she was alone in bed. Sitting up, she placed her hand on the sheets next to her and found them cool to the touch. Moving off the bed, she grabbed her robe and shrugged it on while noting the time on the clock on the nightstand. The time still early, she walked out into the hallway and found a light on in the kitchen.
Her feet barely making a noise on the hardwood floors, Brennan silently moved down the hallway and into the well lit kitchen. Spying her husband leaning against the counter drinking a beer, Brennan sat down at the kitchen island and asked, "What are you doing up, Booth? It's only 2:24."
Tipping his beer bottle back, Booth drained the bottle before answering. Placing the now empty bottle on the counter, he sighed, "I'm not tired."
Worried, Brennan shook her head, "Booth you barely sleep anymore. You've been this way for months. Your health is going to start to deteriorate if you don't start sleeping more than five hours a night. The mind needs the rest. It needs to dream to prevent psychosis."
Annoyed, Booth crossed his arms, "Are you saying I'm psycho?"
Cocking her head to the side, Brennan frowned, "You know that isn't what I'm saying Booth . . . I'm concerned for you. Is there something I can do to help you sleep?"
Tired but unwilling to admit it, Booth walked across the room and stopped next to the island. Leaning against it, Booth reached across the surface and captured one of her hands and clasped it, "I'm sorry, Bones. I know you're worried about me but I don't have an answer for you. I go to bed and I pray I'll sleep for at least six or seven hours but I just can't do it. I don't know what's wrong with me. It's like . . . I wake up and I start thinking about things and I can't stop."
Thinking about possibilities, Brennan asked, "Would you like to play that word association game Sweets had us play in his office a few years ago? When we played it it seemed to help me. Perhaps it would help you?"
Surprised, Booth stared intently at his wife, "You're kidding me. That game where it made you decide you wanted a baby, that game?"
Irritated, Brennan shook her head, "That game didn't make me do anything, Booth. It just helped me clarify my thoughts. Perhaps it would help you."
Wary from their previous experience, Booth released Brennan's hand and stood back, "I don't know, Bones. You don't believe in psychology and now you want to play a psychological game? That seems weird to me."
Frustrated, Brennan stood up and threw her hands up, "Fine, Booth. We won't play the game. Why do something that might help you? It helped me but perhaps you're right and it's just weird that I want to help you. I'm going back to bed."
Watching her stalk down the hallway, Booth rolled his shoulders and tried to relax. Following her to their bedroom, he entered the room and found Brennan lying on the bed on her side, staring at the dining room table through the glass wall.
Quietly, Booth slid onto the bed and moved over so that he was lying on his side next to her. Placing his arm around her waist, Booth fretted, "Look, Bones, I'm sorry. I really am. If you want to play that game we can. . . . okay? I didn't mean to make you mad or upset you."
Turning so that she was now lying on her back, Brennan solemnly responded, "Night."
Reluctantly, Booth replied, "Cover."
Safe
Danger
Walls
House
Family
Protect
Partners
Married
Happy
You
Me?
Yes
No
Laughing, Booth leaned over and kissed her, "Whoa, Bones."
"Horse"
Leaning over and placing his forehead against hers, Booth sighed, "I mean stop the game. You make me happy, you know that don't you? You're the reason I made it out of that prison alive. It wasn't just that you blackmailed the prosecutor to get me out of there. It was the thought of you and how I needed to survive for you, that's what got me through the days and the nights. You and Christine and Parker. You guys are what I live for, you know that right?"
Placing her hand on the side of his face, Brennan leaned up and kissed him, "I love you, Booth. I want you to be happy. Right now, even though you're home again . . . . sometimes you get a look on your face and even though I don't excel in non-verbal communication, somehow I know you're not happy."
His lips lingering near her lips, Booth stared into her concerned face, "Bones, I'm happy, but sometimes I think, what if they come back and take all of this away from me? They did it once, it could happen again. What if the next time, I never get to see you again? It scares me to think that could happen, not seeing you or Christine or Parker ever again. I think that's what keeps me up sometimes. The what ifs."
Moving her hand behind his neck, Brennan stared intently at Booth, "We are never going to be separated again, Booth. The ones responsible for our separation are in jail waiting to be tried. There isn't anything to be afraid of. Allow yourself to be happy."
His lips gently kissing her, Booth pulled back and stared into her crystal blue eyes, "You know what would make me happy right now?"
Her reply soft, Brennan asked, "What?"
A hint of mischief in his voice, Booth replied, "Pancakes."
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Ha, I bet you wondering where the pancakes were coming in to the story.
Guest: it is fair game to write a review saying you hate a story or to point out spelling or grammatical errors. It is uncalled for to write a review telling a fanfic writer that you cannot stand the way the writer writes and that the writer is fortunate that his or her writing style won't keep you from reading their stories. The fact is everyone has a writing style. It's unique to that individual. It's the vehicle the writer uses to present their story.
In my case, my "Style" is more script-like than normal. Over the years, I've tried to correct some of the more annoying things I do as a writer and I think I have improved; but my writing style is my way of writing and that I cannot change.
I am not a professional writer and I do not get paid to write these stories. I am just a fan who loves the television show Bones and I wish to share my love for it the only way I know how, by writing stories. If you are reading fanfic expecting F. Scot Fitzgerald or Ray Bradbury then you will be sorely disappointed and I recommend you look elsewhere for your reading pleasure.
I allow Guests to leave reviews because I know some readers use their phones to read with and signing in and out of fanfic is very awkward. Attacking a writer under Guest is a cowardly thing to do. It doesn't leave a way for the author to respond. I do not plan to change how I write. After all it is "my" writing style. If you think I'm that terrible, please stop reading my stories and look for an author with a style you approve of. Better yet, write a fanfic, post it and let me know so that I may read it. I will share the link with other fanfic readers so that we may all benefit from "your" writing style.