Bitesize_Bones Ficlets, Post #1
Some fantastic work is being posted over at bitesize_bones. These are my (mediocre) contributions. I really apologize for not being up to my usual standard these days.
Title: Change is Hard
Rating: All Ages
Change is Hard
She's studied physics before, and knows that the natural inclination of the universe is towards chaos, rather than order; that evolution is a slowly turning wheel that never stops, the only thing in true perpetual motion; that everything that lives must die, but must first be born. She understands that there are possibly multiple universes, all layered on each other, where one choice leads one way and the other down a separate path. She gets, and finds comforting, the fact that there might be a Temperance out there who is still a Joy, and there may still be others where she does not exist.
But this is her reality. Right here, right now.
In front of the mirror, she stands sideways.
Part of her still rails at this. It's irrational, she knows, to be upset that her face is puffy, that her breasts are swelling, that her feet are uncomfortable and she's hot all the time. It feels alien, something taking over her body.
Yet, it feels right. When she thinks of her child, nestled inside of her, fighting for life, for nutrients, slowly developing bones, vital organs, and eventually neural pathways... a tiny human being, deep inside of her...
This change feels right.
Booth wakes. He twitches on the bed and then slowly sits up. "Hey, baby," he says softly. Somewhere along the way, she's stopped resenting that -- it's a waste of effort.
"Good morning, Booth."
"What are you doing?"
"I can't find pants."
Booth grins. "Not a problem at all, Bones. Just stay here all day and we'll, uh..."
"Booth." She rolls her eyes, but finds herself smiling. "I'm getting extremely large. And uncomfortable."
"You're getting extremely beautiful." He slides up behind her, and kisses her cheek. He moves in for her mouth, but she bats him away.
"Morning breath."
"Blasphemy!"
Then he opens the doorway to her bathro... no, their bathroom. He leaves the door open while he relieves himself, washes his hands, scrubs his face and brushes his teeth.
At the end of one life, they comforted each other, and inadvertently began another. Then slowly, they began to meld together.
Change is hard.
Brennan reaches for her pants, only to be tackled to the bed.
"Gotcha, Bones!" (He's now doing miraculous things with his fingers, and, ohGod, that wasn't that sensitive last week...)
Change is hard... but, maybe... just maybe, it might be worth it in the end.
**
Title: The Couch
Rating: Adult
The Couch
Angela and Hodgins have not produced what Booth would consider an "easy" child. Michael's pretty cool, like Parker was at that age, of course, but he's also as obstinate as his mother can be, and prefers things done his way. Booth can't really blame him... he's the same way, so it takes Brennan a few minutes to figure out which way to hold Michael to burp him, how to rock him to sleep -- and Booth figures out how to turn on the mobile just right so it captures Michael's young eyes.
A flash of nostalgia rips through him. When Parker was this age, putting him down meant it was the end of the night. If he and Becca happened to be on speaking terms, they might talk softly at the door, but... by and large, when Parker went down, that was Booth's cue to leave.
He hasn't hung around a sleeping house with a woman and a baby since...
"Takes you back, eh Bones?"
Michael's asleep and they are on the sofa. She's curled up, reading a magazine, and Hodgins has like, eight hundred channels and he's flipping between Sports Center and a show about building a deck (someday he's going to need to remember how to do this, when he convinces Bones they need a real house out in the 'burbs).
"To last week, when I babysat alone?" Brennan asks, confused.
"No, Bones. Babysitting. Hanging out with your boy-of-the-day on the sofa. Inching closer and closer until you get near enough to touch. Then, you know, maybe you let the guy get to second base..."
Bones wrinkles her nose. "I never babysat for money in high school. It was frequently expected of me as an older foster sibling, but I was not allowed to have boys over while I tended to the young ones."
"Ah, Bones, you missed out." He holds his hand out. "Com'ere, baby."
"Booth --"
"Just... roll with it. Break the rules with me." He pulls her close enough to touch, finds that spot on the nape of her neck that turns her to goo, and nips it lightly with his teeth. "Whaddya say? Gonna let me get to second base?"
Catching up on the game, she flushes red, but ultimately laughs. "Gee, Seeley, I don't know."
"Whipping out the Seeley, huh?"
"I doubt I would refer to my high school, uh... lover, by their last name, Booth."
"Fine with me, toots."
Brennan throws back her head and gives him one of those fabulous belly laughs that warm his heart and bring other areas of his body to complete attention.
"C'mon, babydoll, let me touch your tits."
Brennan's feet are bare and rubbing against his leg, and she lays back against the arm of the sofa. "Aren't you going to kiss me some more?"
"I could kiss you all day," he says lowly, and he probably means it because his tongue is deep inside her mouth. She had vanilla frozen yogurt after dinner and he can taste the sweet bean on her breath and on her tongue. Involuntarily, his hips rock into hers. She pushes back and his breath catches.
Suddenly, she's sitting up and removing her bra without taking off her shirt. He's so hard, he's seeing stars and struggling for breath. "Christ, that's sexy."
"Angela insists all women should learn how to do that."
Booth pushes her shirt up, revealing her slowly-expanding belly, giving it a hello kiss before he moves up to her breasts.
Sweet Christ, what pregnancy has done to her body. This is the one part of her he can't quite reconcile with his initial high-school fantasy. She's all woman. The way she smells, the way she tastes... the catch in her breath when he wraps his tongue around a nipple... ah, there it is.
He's sliding his hand underneath the waistband of her pants when the front door flings open.
Frantically, Bones pulls her shirt down, he sits up and grabs a pillow.
Hodgins and Angela stare, for a minute. Then break into gales of laughter. "Sweetie," Angela says, "You left your bra on my lampshade."
"No, Booth, don't get up," Hodgins says, laughing. "I remember those pregnancy hormones. Something else, eh? I remember this one time..."
"Hodgins."
"Yes dear?"
"Go check on Michael, so I don't have to murder you." He runs up the stairs. "Stay as long as you like, you two. That couch is magical, I swear to God."
They're alone again, finally. Brennan clears her throat. "Your couch is also exceedingly pleasant."
"And uh, no Hodgins, no Angela. No baby. At least for the time being."
"Let's continue our interlude there."
He grins. "Race you to the car, Bones."
**
Title: My Baby
Rating: All Ages
My Baby
Ten perfect little fingers. Ten perfect little toes. Jack's eyes, her nose. A crinkly little forehead, and arms that flail so wildly as if to say "here I am, Mom! Here I am!".
How much love there is in her heart for her child. How much joy.
How much sorrow.
Three weeks after Michael's birth, she tucks him in the sling and takes him for a walk, down to the playground in the neighborhood. She sits in a swing and rocks back and forth and back and forth.
"My baby," she says softly, touching his cheeks, because she still can't believe he's here. He sniffles and cries and she feels a little bad, but he's soon soothed back to sleep.
She lifts her head to the sun and catches a flash of a memory. A pretty Chinese woman in a long flowing dress, barefoot as they run through a park. Little Angela can't quite keep up, her feet move so fast but not fast enough. Her mother is always like that -- just out of her reach.
Michael's hand reaches up. She takes it, stroking his arm gently. "I will never leave you behind," she murmurs. "My baby."
Title: Change is Hard
Rating: All Ages
Change is Hard
She's studied physics before, and knows that the natural inclination of the universe is towards chaos, rather than order; that evolution is a slowly turning wheel that never stops, the only thing in true perpetual motion; that everything that lives must die, but must first be born. She understands that there are possibly multiple universes, all layered on each other, where one choice leads one way and the other down a separate path. She gets, and finds comforting, the fact that there might be a Temperance out there who is still a Joy, and there may still be others where she does not exist.
But this is her reality. Right here, right now.
In front of the mirror, she stands sideways.
Part of her still rails at this. It's irrational, she knows, to be upset that her face is puffy, that her breasts are swelling, that her feet are uncomfortable and she's hot all the time. It feels alien, something taking over her body.
Yet, it feels right. When she thinks of her child, nestled inside of her, fighting for life, for nutrients, slowly developing bones, vital organs, and eventually neural pathways... a tiny human being, deep inside of her...
This change feels right.
Booth wakes. He twitches on the bed and then slowly sits up. "Hey, baby," he says softly. Somewhere along the way, she's stopped resenting that -- it's a waste of effort.
"Good morning, Booth."
"What are you doing?"
"I can't find pants."
Booth grins. "Not a problem at all, Bones. Just stay here all day and we'll, uh..."
"Booth." She rolls her eyes, but finds herself smiling. "I'm getting extremely large. And uncomfortable."
"You're getting extremely beautiful." He slides up behind her, and kisses her cheek. He moves in for her mouth, but she bats him away.
"Morning breath."
"Blasphemy!"
Then he opens the doorway to her bathro... no, their bathroom. He leaves the door open while he relieves himself, washes his hands, scrubs his face and brushes his teeth.
At the end of one life, they comforted each other, and inadvertently began another. Then slowly, they began to meld together.
Change is hard.
Brennan reaches for her pants, only to be tackled to the bed.
"Gotcha, Bones!" (He's now doing miraculous things with his fingers, and, ohGod, that wasn't that sensitive last week...)
Change is hard... but, maybe... just maybe, it might be worth it in the end.
**
Title: The Couch
Rating: Adult
The Couch
Angela and Hodgins have not produced what Booth would consider an "easy" child. Michael's pretty cool, like Parker was at that age, of course, but he's also as obstinate as his mother can be, and prefers things done his way. Booth can't really blame him... he's the same way, so it takes Brennan a few minutes to figure out which way to hold Michael to burp him, how to rock him to sleep -- and Booth figures out how to turn on the mobile just right so it captures Michael's young eyes.
A flash of nostalgia rips through him. When Parker was this age, putting him down meant it was the end of the night. If he and Becca happened to be on speaking terms, they might talk softly at the door, but... by and large, when Parker went down, that was Booth's cue to leave.
He hasn't hung around a sleeping house with a woman and a baby since...
"Takes you back, eh Bones?"
Michael's asleep and they are on the sofa. She's curled up, reading a magazine, and Hodgins has like, eight hundred channels and he's flipping between Sports Center and a show about building a deck (someday he's going to need to remember how to do this, when he convinces Bones they need a real house out in the 'burbs).
"To last week, when I babysat alone?" Brennan asks, confused.
"No, Bones. Babysitting. Hanging out with your boy-of-the-day on the sofa. Inching closer and closer until you get near enough to touch. Then, you know, maybe you let the guy get to second base..."
Bones wrinkles her nose. "I never babysat for money in high school. It was frequently expected of me as an older foster sibling, but I was not allowed to have boys over while I tended to the young ones."
"Ah, Bones, you missed out." He holds his hand out. "Com'ere, baby."
"Booth --"
"Just... roll with it. Break the rules with me." He pulls her close enough to touch, finds that spot on the nape of her neck that turns her to goo, and nips it lightly with his teeth. "Whaddya say? Gonna let me get to second base?"
Catching up on the game, she flushes red, but ultimately laughs. "Gee, Seeley, I don't know."
"Whipping out the Seeley, huh?"
"I doubt I would refer to my high school, uh... lover, by their last name, Booth."
"Fine with me, toots."
Brennan throws back her head and gives him one of those fabulous belly laughs that warm his heart and bring other areas of his body to complete attention.
"C'mon, babydoll, let me touch your tits."
Brennan's feet are bare and rubbing against his leg, and she lays back against the arm of the sofa. "Aren't you going to kiss me some more?"
"I could kiss you all day," he says lowly, and he probably means it because his tongue is deep inside her mouth. She had vanilla frozen yogurt after dinner and he can taste the sweet bean on her breath and on her tongue. Involuntarily, his hips rock into hers. She pushes back and his breath catches.
Suddenly, she's sitting up and removing her bra without taking off her shirt. He's so hard, he's seeing stars and struggling for breath. "Christ, that's sexy."
"Angela insists all women should learn how to do that."
Booth pushes her shirt up, revealing her slowly-expanding belly, giving it a hello kiss before he moves up to her breasts.
Sweet Christ, what pregnancy has done to her body. This is the one part of her he can't quite reconcile with his initial high-school fantasy. She's all woman. The way she smells, the way she tastes... the catch in her breath when he wraps his tongue around a nipple... ah, there it is.
He's sliding his hand underneath the waistband of her pants when the front door flings open.
Frantically, Bones pulls her shirt down, he sits up and grabs a pillow.
Hodgins and Angela stare, for a minute. Then break into gales of laughter. "Sweetie," Angela says, "You left your bra on my lampshade."
"No, Booth, don't get up," Hodgins says, laughing. "I remember those pregnancy hormones. Something else, eh? I remember this one time..."
"Hodgins."
"Yes dear?"
"Go check on Michael, so I don't have to murder you." He runs up the stairs. "Stay as long as you like, you two. That couch is magical, I swear to God."
They're alone again, finally. Brennan clears her throat. "Your couch is also exceedingly pleasant."
"And uh, no Hodgins, no Angela. No baby. At least for the time being."
"Let's continue our interlude there."
He grins. "Race you to the car, Bones."
**
Title: My Baby
Rating: All Ages
My Baby
Ten perfect little fingers. Ten perfect little toes. Jack's eyes, her nose. A crinkly little forehead, and arms that flail so wildly as if to say "here I am, Mom! Here I am!".
How much love there is in her heart for her child. How much joy.
How much sorrow.
Three weeks after Michael's birth, she tucks him in the sling and takes him for a walk, down to the playground in the neighborhood. She sits in a swing and rocks back and forth and back and forth.
"My baby," she says softly, touching his cheeks, because she still can't believe he's here. He sniffles and cries and she feels a little bad, but he's soon soothed back to sleep.
She lifts her head to the sun and catches a flash of a memory. A pretty Chinese woman in a long flowing dress, barefoot as they run through a park. Little Angela can't quite keep up, her feet move so fast but not fast enough. Her mother is always like that -- just out of her reach.
Michael's hand reaches up. She takes it, stroking his arm gently. "I will never leave you behind," she murmurs. "My baby."