A Sliver of Topaz by ForensicMama (Multi-Chapter)

This was a great chapter for several reasons, first and foremost the continued well being of baby Lucy. The thought of Baby B&B not making it is almost unconscionable, and the way it's drawn them together is amazing but nothing near as amazing in how you describe the first time Brennan holds her. You can tell it's as if a switch has been flipped inside her now, she knows love, she understands it now in her heart even if her logical mind can't grasp it and you just know this means she and Booth will make it as a couple. Little Lucy truly is a miracle, and this is a wondrous story Mama. Keep it up.

RM

Mama, I love Booth calling her Lucy just because ... and visiting her in the NICU ... and the fear of holding her. The last part with the photo album and the gown are pulling Brennan into her family in an incredible way.

I'm loving this!

Cam stood back. This wasn’t her moment. It was his. She averted her eyes, but looked up as Booth, with his hands inside the isolette, tenderly lifted Lucy’s little arm and give her a little fist-bump. Leaving the NICU had become increasingly harder to do in the weeks following Brennan’s release from the hospital. There was distance. There was insecurity and fear.

Lucy continued to gain weight and strength, but there was always that thought in the back of everyone’s minds… the thoughts of what-if…

Then came her first fever.

The opening that the omphalocele created was a virtual doorway for disease. He held Brennan’s hand through the night and into the next day. A gloomy shadow fell over the NICU and the Jeffersonian. People worked with their hands, but their hearts weren’t there. At 3:00, Cam told everyone to leave. Nothing was getting done there. They all left and stood vigil through the night.

The fever receded, but it had left its mark. Lucy began to lose weight and color. She stopped kicking and crying quite so much. Tests came back negative. One young doctor once said something along the lines of Lucy not having the [metaphorical] heart to continue, to which Brennan replied scathingly that he could leave his opinions and non-scientific conjecture at home or not come around again.

That night, Lucy was resting and Booth knew he had to put aside his most paranoid feelings for Brennan whose eyes were shadowed with exhaustion.

“Just… keep an eye on her for me,” Booth said at the door.

Cam nodded, “Of course.”

She watched him leave, then sat in the rocking chair that was beside the isolette.

The room was silent and aside from a few of the nursing staff, she was alone. She smiled at the little infant. So small! So sick. And yet, so perfect. She had never regretted choosing not to be a mother until Michelle had come into her life. And since she had, she couldn’t quite shake the feeling that she had missed out on all of those special moments that came with being a firsttime mother to a newborn.

No, she wasn’t jealous. That wasn’t why she had to brush away a tear in the dim NICU light. She was more than lucky and more than blessed. She may have rejected happiness at one point in her life, but happiness had found her. She would just have to gather her senses.

A white tissue.

Cam followed the hand that was holding it out to her—a strong, dark, broad hand. A strong muscular arm. A warm and inviting smile and a deep voice.

Cam laughed a little ashamedly and took the tissue.

“Filling in for the night?” the doctor asked quickly. It was a smart move. Cam didn’t have a chance to feel embarrassed. And before she knew it, she was chatting in the little NICU in low, hushed tones with a man who was sexy, smart, and probably six years too young for her. But it was just a conversation. Conversation didn’t have to lead anywhere. And it wasn’t necessarily fate that led him to her side with a tissue when she was feeling her lowest and loneliest. Was it?

***
Macaroni and Cheese. Dry pasta. Apples. Did she ever eat here? “Bones, I think I’m just gonna order in. Any pref…” He stopped in the livingroom. She had been there a moment ago. “Bones?” He walked toward the bedroom and spotted her tall figure wrapped in white, standing in the doorway of the little nursery that was still undone. The windows were curtainless, the walls were sea-green as they had been before, and the only thing that was set up was the crib that Booth had put together when Lucy was clinging to life. It didn’t make sense to others why he had gone back to Brennan’s apartment for an hour. Something in him said that if she had a bed to sleep in, then she would be well again. He returned with steadfast and steely eyes and held her hand. It was almost frightening how distant he seemed to the world. He held Brennan’s hand but said nothing. Brennan even muttered once, “She’ll be fine,” despite the fact that she didn’t believe she actually would.

She didn’t make any sounds, but he thought that she was crying. She let out a held-onto breath.

“Hey, Bones,” he whispered.

She turned, the only sound being the sounds of her robe against her bare legs. Seeing her face traced with lines of worry and impending doom was too much for him. He took her into his arms.

“Hey, Bones, it’s OK. It’s OK.” He didn’t expect it, but she let him comfort her. It was one of those few, sweet moments that he clung to. He closed his eyes. She smelled sweet… like sweetpea and honey. Why did she have to smell so amazing? Worry retreated. Thoughts of a daily life-and-death fight disappeared along with professionalism and distance. His fingers traced her spine. He expected the moment to end with a sharp slap to the cheek, but instead, she pressed against him. Softly. And she felt amazing in his arms. Her every curve felt so natural against his hands—the curve of her hip, the curve of her buttocks—especially so beneath her robe.

He caught her lips with his. She responded without hesitation and with heated passion in the doorway of the little unfinished nursery. Sweets would’ve made a psychological comment about the release of frustration, fear, and sexual tension. But psychology was an inaccurate science to Brennan and to Booth—Booth would’ve agreed wholeheartedly at that moment. And there was no stopping them. Not fear. Not grief. Or maybe that’s what was propelling themselves into eachother’s arms in a passionate tangle between hot sheets and hungry open-mouthed kisses.

He moved to pull her top over her head. Her first thought was embarrassment over her new body—a few new stretch marks and swollen breasts—but to him, she had never been more beautiful, so womanly, so sexy—so his! He kissed her again, this time with more tenderness… and maybe a touch of sadness, that they would regain their senses and this would be a mistake and placed under a rock in the past… but it was now. And she was his. Even if it was for a moment.

Their furvor was interrupted by the buzz of Booth’s cell phone. At first he ignored it and let it go to voicemail, but then the phone buzzed again and slipped from the side table to the carpet.

They both stopped, fear glazing over their eyes. Who called twice in a row at 11 PM? Booth scrambled from the bed (how did they even get to the bed?) and flipped open the phone.

“Hey, Cam? What’s wrong?”

“I think you need to get here fast. Lucy’s temp is spiking I—It’s time to use that siren of yours, Seeley.”

***

Lucy was waiting outside of the O.R. when Booth and Brennan came running down the hallway. Cam, Hodgins, and Sweets were waiting for them.

“What’s going on?” Booth demanded from the doctor that stood by Cam’s side.

“Dave Murray, Chief of Pediatrics,” he firmly shook his hand. “Do we have permission to close the omphalocele? Time is… the surgery has to be performed in order to save her life. Do we have permission, Dr. Brennan?” He looked at Brennan, then back at Booth. “I have reason to believe that if the hernia is covered, then she’ll have a better shot at life.”

“What about the fever?” Brennan asked.

“It’s under control at the moment. Do I have your permission?”

Booth nodded, not noticing Brennan’s reaction, and signed the paperwork that a nurse handed to him. His hands and head felt like lead. He felt like he was signing away Lucy’s life… it didn’t sound rational at all, but it’s how he felt.

As he signed, Brennan disappeared from the crowd. Hodgins called after her, “Dr. Brennan,” but she didn’t turn.

Booth stood and watched until Lucy was out of sight. The risks were too high for anyone but surgeons to be inside. He turned slowly, coming to his senses that Brennan would need comforted. “Where’s Bones?”

“She just left,” Cam said, shrugging sadly.

Booth took off down the hall, stopping nurses as he ran. He finally found Brennan on the rooftop. Snowflakes crowned her head like a halo. She looked so lovely. He put his hands into his pockets, feeling the barriers that had been built up. A moment of passion could’ve saved them minutes… could have saved Lucy minutes.

Brennan heard his feet crunching in the snow behind her. Her teeth chattered, but she didn’t turn. The icy chips of snow landed on her face like some silent yet welcome punishment. The one time she gave into her sexual desires for Booth was the one time that it mattered.

He crossed his arms over his chest, “It’s cold out here, Bones. Why don’t you come in?”

He walked until he was standing next to her. He didn’t touch her or offer her his jacket. He knew her too well for that. He knew it would be rejected at that moment. They stood in silence for a few minutes more.

“Why don’t we go in, Bones. You’re shivering.”

They stood a little longer before he walked a few steps toward the doorway in hopes that she would follow him. She stood her ground so he turned and looked back at her.

She turned and looked at him. The snowflakes were falling faster now. She remembered him standing in the snow three Christmases before, a cell phone to his ear, a look of what some might call ‘love’ in his eyes and on his lips.

He seemed to be waiting for an answer of some sort and it overwhelmed her with frustration. She made a helpless gesture, slapping her thigh as emotion over came her and her voice trembled. “I feel like this is my fault. I know that’s… it’s not… but…”

With a few swift steps, she was being held tightly in his arms. “Listen to me, Bones. It’s not your fault. It’s nobody’s fault. Don’t you dare think that for a second.”

“Does being afraid make me weak--minded?” she asked, almost afraid of the answer itself.

“We’re all scared sometime, Bones. It’s what makes us human. I know I’m scared.”

They stood, two twisted trees in a storm of snow and ice, holding up against uncertainty. But together, they were stronger. In those minutes together, something changed in their relationship. Something that hadn’t been changed by hours of coffee and longing glances. Something that hadn’t been changed by a wild almost-love-making session. It was the last stone to be removed. And the walls crumbled beneath their feet.

Sorry about it being so long since my last chapter.

That's okay, Mama. I imagine that the new season got you all kinds of busy with your own sites!!

The picture in my mind of Booth giving Lucy a fist bump. Then Brennan staring at the baby bed. The phone call. And finally on the rooftop. Finally.

I can't wait for the next one!

This is such a beautiful story, Mama, so moving. Love it.

What happened to ya, Mama? You haven't posted in a weekish... I hope youre okay Great fanfic. I will follow. more please!!!! please? Hopefully you het here soon because i love it and want moreeeeee
~ ~ Sunnie~

I'm sorry for the long break between these chapters. I've been having a crazy busy time with school and midterms.
***

Angela closed her eyes tightly and reopened them. It was four-thirty in the morning. The gang was all there, waiting patiently. Cam was napping on the waiting room couch opposite of them with her head in Michelle’s lap. Michelle had fallen asleep with a pen in her hand and a half-finished Cosmo quiz next to her left thigh.

Angela sat up carefully so as to not disturb Brayden who was curled up against her. He cried a little bit, then fell back to sleep much to Angela’s relief.

The tiles on the floors were freshly mopped and smelled of bleach and a vague hospitaly scent. Angela mused for a moment that she would have said that it was the smell of death in those years before Brennan got her a job at the Jeffersonian. She definitely knew the smell of death now. Maybe what she was smelling was life? Or of the fighting-for of life?

On her way out of the hospital, she spotted Booth at the O.R. doors. He stood there, his arms crossed, a deep crease in his furrowed brow, his eyes closed. She knew he was praying. She said nothing to him, but secretly said a prayer for him. Nothing crazy. Just that his prayers would be answered. She didn’t know much about God or prayer, but if there was anybody she knew who did, it had to be Booth. Nobody she knew had faced down life and death so often… had given up so much… and continued to be the truest of gentlemen and such a genuine sweetheart. He knew what he was doing.

The hospital double-doors slid open with automatic gusto. Snowflakes on rippling and tormented winds swirled around her. Sitting on the curb was an unrecognizable figure. At the same time, she knew who it was. She took a seat beside Brennan. There they sat quietly for several minutes.

“You know,” Angela began cautiously, “you’re not as tough as you seem.” Brennan looked at her, leaning her hand on her fist. “Have you ever had M&Ms? You have a hard shell, sweetie, but you’re sweet and soft on the inside.” She laughed lightly. “Oh. I guess I’m starting to become a mom. I’m using metaphors I’d use for Brayden.” She looked seriously at Brennan again. “You love Lucy. You may not admit it, sweetie, but you loved her from the moment you knew you were pregnant. Probably before that when you were thinking about a little BROOTH baby.”

“Angela, I’m not sure I can understand you right now. I’m tired…”

“…and worried and scared. I get it, sweetie. I’m just saying it’s OK to love her and let your heart love her. I mean, look at that nursery. You haven’t—Brennan, look at me. Just look at me, sweetie. Why haven’t you fixed up the nursery?”

“I’ve been busy, Angela.” Brennan tried to make an escape. Angela grabbed her hand and sat her down promptly.

“I know you better than that, Bren. You get so afraid when you fall in love and you think the universe is going to steal away that wonderful, amazing feeling that you freeze up. Lucy needs you—Booth needs you. I… I need you. You need to have faith that Lucy is going to be OK—and don’t give me one of those speeches of yours about faith is seeing what people can do… and maybe that’s what’s scaring you so much. You think you haven’t seen Lucy fight something like this before so you’re afraid. You think you have no foundation for your faith, but think again. Look around you, Brennan. The fact that she was born alive tells me that she’s a fighter. The fact that she’s fought infections tells me she’s a fighter. And the fact that she obviously inherited your awesomeness and Booth’s kick-assedness tells me that Lucy Brennan Booth is going to be OK.”

Brennan hugged her impulsively. “You’re right, Angela,” she said as she held her near. “You’re right. I know that Lucy is a fighter. Booth talked to me earlier. That doesn’t keep me from thinking about it…”

“You’re scared.”

Brennan nodded. “More than I’ve ever been in my life. Even more so than that when I was in El Salvador. It’s much more frightening. It’s not my life I’m afraid for, Ange. It’s Lucy’s. And I feel like I have no control over the outcome.”

“Have you tried praying?”

Brennan tilted her head with a look on her face that said it all.

Angela quickly recanted, “Well, it doesn’t matter anyway. I think Booth’s doing enough for the both of us.” She laughed lightly, then after a moment, “Well, I should go inside. It’s cold out here. Wanna come with?”

“No.” Brennan turned after Angela had walked a few feet. “Did you love your baby before you knew you were pregnant?”

Angela froze. “How did you--?”

“I’m a Forensic Anthropologist. I can see that your ilia have shifted and your gait has changed..”

“OK, sweetie, if we’re gonna keep being best friends, you can’t go using your creepy super powers on me.”

The women laughed.

“I’m happy for you, Angela. Congratulations,” Brennan said sincerely.

Angela could tell she was sincere. Brennan wasn’t good at lying, after all. “Thank you, sweetie.”

Angela passed Booth at the door. He smiled at her, which was rather confusing since he seemed so scared a moment ago. “You OK, Booth?”

He put his hands in his pockets, walked a few steps backward like a boy and grinned, “Better than ever.”

Angela shook her head and went back inside.

Booth held out his hand to Brennan. She took it confusedly and to her surprise, he hugged her tightly. She hugged him back. “Booth, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, Bones. Everything’s right.”

“Is Lucy in recovery?”

Booth nodded. “They just wheeled her into recovery. She’s doing great, Bones.”

Brennan smiled at him—one of those once in a lifetime smiles that made his heart skip a beat. “I want to go check on her. Then I need to go lay down for a few hours.”

“Me, too actually. I’m exhausted.” She took a few steps. “You know, Bones,” he began, making her turn toward him. “This whole thing with Lucy… it just really reminds me that life is short.”

Brennan tried to discern what he was meaning. At a loss she said, “The average lifespan in the United States is 77.1 years. Of course in Zambia it’s only 37.2 years. And in Andorra it’s 83.5 years so it’s probably a matter of perspective more than anything. And there are other factors such as personal habits, eating habits, pollution…”

“Stay with me tonight, Bones.” He waited for her reply. He only received a fearful deer-in-the-headlights look from her. “I’ll sleep on the couch,” he continued, stepping toward her playfully. Had it become a joke!? “I have some beer…”

“I’m pumping.”

“Juice. I have milk. Cider? Tea. It makes logistical sense, Bones. Bad weather. We’re going to the same place. I have four-wheel drive.”

“OK.” Brennan nodded before she could talk herself out of it or introduce logic into the response. “Let’s go check on Lucy.”

As they walked into the hospital, Angela and Cam were talking over something seriously in low tones. Brennan was able to make out the words, “Skeletons? C’mon, they like that stuff!” Then they both burst into laughter.

Sweets walked in behind them. “Hey, if you guys need a nap or something, I canceled a few of my appointments. Have my laptop right here.”

“Thanks, Sweets,” Booth said to him as they walked toward recovery.

“Any time, guys. That’s what I’m here for—well, not literally, but y’know. We’re friends.”

“You know, I’m sorry I ever called you Huggies,” Booth said sincerely, slapping him on the shoulder.

Sweets nodded good-naturedly as Booth and Brennan walked out of sight. Then his smile disappeared and everything registered. “Wait. When did you…? Hey, guys. You don’t really… Nobody’s heard you call me that, right? Guys, come on! And… I’m talking to myself again. Great.”

Angela walked up beside him and kissed him on the cheek. “Don’t listen to those big mean ol’ bullies, Sweetsie.”

Sweets glared at her.

“I’m joking, Sweets. Now, think you can babysit with Hodgins for a little while? Cam, Michelle, and I have to go do something.”

“What?”

“Nunya,” Angela grinned.

“Can I help?” Daisy blurted.
Angela was bewildered for a moment by Daisy’s ability to appear suddenly at any given moment. “Sure,” Angela said. “But you have to promise me something.”

“OK. On my honor, I will try to serve God and my country and to live by the Girl Scout law!” Daisy held up her fingers.

“Wow,” Angela said. “OK. On one condition: That you keep your lips zipped.”

“Lips are zipped,” she mimed the zipping of her lips. “Lock the padlock and throw it away.” She mimed this as well.

“Deal, then,” Angela said.

Daisy clapped and jumped excitedly, then jogged off to where Cam and Michelle were waiting and bundled.

Sweets pleaded before Angela was out of ear-shot, “Just don’t hurt her.”

“No promises, Sweets.”

“Oh, my God. She’s gonna kill her,” Sweets muttered to himself as they walked away, Daisy bouncing behind them.

I'm so relieved that Lucy's gonna be fine. It looks like Brennan is finally letting people convince her that it's okay to love her. And Booth is bringing her home.

Now I just wonder what the girls are up to, with Tigger tagging along?!

hahahaha tigger? omg you just made my day I loved this chapter...wonder what the girls are up to too.
~Sunnie~

yay lucy. fight!

Booth kicked the snow off from his shoes at the door. Brennan had already slipped her shoes off and had disappeared into his bathroom. He took off his jacket and walked toward the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. He couldn’t help his ears listening to every little sound. He wondered if… Let’s just say that his imagination began to wander. But let’s be honest here, folks. It had been four years. He knew how to wrangle that imagination and wrangle he did.

He felt a headache coming on—one of those side effects of his surgery—and reached into the cabinet for a glass, which he filled with water. He began to walk toward the bathroom. “Uh, hey, Bon…” his feet froze to the ground.

A soft light from the bathroom bathed the darkened hallway. He stood in the shadows. And to tell you the truth, his first thought wasn’t sexual. OK. His second thought wasn’t sexual. Instead, he was acutely aware of the intimacy of the situation.

When Brennan went into Booth’s apartment, she had already laid out the least complicated way to stay the night at his house. She was going to steal one of his shirts and quickly change in the bathroom before he knew what hit him. She would be in his spare room surrounded by… whatever it is ten year old male children these days like… and would drift off to sleep with only a few words exchanged between them. Five minutes tops.

Unfortunately for her reawakening libido, she found herself dwelling on a few certain things somewhere between rational thought and the conversation had with Booth about a case he was solving with Perotta.

Once inside the bathroom, she kicked off her jeans and pulled her shirt over her head. Both items were discarded to the tiles. She then reached for the shirt she had snatched from Booth’s drawer (second drawer from the top). She didn’t bother with how she had such a personal knowledge of Booth’s drawers. She probably wouldn’t be able to pinpoint the first time she rummaged through the drawers. Maybe it came from all of those times she brought him a clean change of clothing when he was hospitalized for being shot, stabbed, blown up, or beaten?

But as she reached for the shirt, she caught a glance of her body. It was really the first time she had looked at herself in the mirror. She ran her finger across the red scar from which her baby had been born. She remembered the sea green nursery and the way Booth had touched her, kissed her, pressed against her. He didn’t notice these changes as she had. Of course, he was probably just horny and wanted sex. He would’ve been blinded by a surge of sexual urgency.

Booth watched for a moment, then politely knocked. Brennan pulled the shirt over her head and pulled the shorts she found in the top drawer over her undies. Homer Simpson boxers, in case you were wondering.

“Do you need something?” she asked, bluntly. She was calm in the outside, but on the inside, she was worried he had seen her. Worried? Who had she become?

Booth came into the bathroom and reached for the cabinet. “Excedrin,” he smiled. He was still trying to figure out exactly what he had just seen. He still remembered the way she felt in his arms. He still remembered the way she smelled and how her soft skin felt against his broad hands. Why would she be self-conscious? Maybe he should ask Sweets about it later?

He unscrewed the cap and felt Brennan’s eyes on him the entire time.

“What’s up, Bones?” he asked at last, screwing the cap back on, then looking at her seriously.

She seemed as if she would say something, but then said, “Nothing, Booth. Should I just…?”

“Oh, yeah. Let me, Bones.” He swallowed the pills, shut off the light and led Brennan to the spare room (not that she didn’t know where it was).

Brennan had never seen Parker’s room before. It was very similar to how she had imagined it. There were indeed age-appropriate items decorating the room.

“Right now, he’s really into the Yankees. I told him the Phillies were better, but y’know… after they bombed the Series, he refuses to believe me.”

“Your first point of contention?” Brennan asked, slightly amused.

“No,” Booth answered quickly. He smiled with a memory. “It’s just part of being a parent, Bones. They teach you just as much as you teach them.”

Brennan rolled that around for a moment. “I suppose that could be true at some point, but until a certain age, it’s more than arguable that the adult parent would know more than the offspring.”

Booth sat on Parker’s bed and took an Erector model from his side-table. “When he was born, Bones, I thought… How am I supposed to take care of this little person and be a role model…”

“You’re an excellent father, Booth.”

“Yeah, Bones, but at that point, it’s… it’s scary. You don’t know what you’re doing. You’ve never been a parent before. You don’t know what’s going to happen… Bones, Parker taught me the meaning of true love. When you hold your child in your arms, there’s nothing like it. Nothing. And it’s forever. Believe me, Bones, they teach you. From day one.”

Brennan took a seat beside Booth and took the model from Booth’s hands. She looked at it thoughtfully for a few minutes. “I didn’t think it could feel like that,” she whispered. Then she looked up at Booth.

“Love is… it’s amazing. Huh, Bones?”

She smiled at him. “Yes.”

In his mind, there couldn’t be anything more wonderful to come from Brennan’s lips. So, he kissed them.

Angela was deep in concentration. Sun-yellow paint had spattered here and there, but thanks to a thick mask that was tied over her nose and mouth, the paint would only spatter on the things that were the most difficult to wash out… such as her dark hair that was pulled high into a pony tail, or the messy multi-colored painting shirt that she wore over old jeans. A fan spun in the corner circulating air and playing with black strands of hair that tickled the her forehead. She reached up and scratched, then made the last few strokes on a large golden sun.

She was deep in concentration when Cam, Daisy, and Michelle came in with drinks. “This party needs to be spiced up,” Cam announced, handing an alcoholic beverage to Angela. Cam went to hand one to Daisy, but she kept it out of her reach, “You’re not a silly drunk, are you? Because I don’t know if I could deal with Daisy times two.”

“Um, I actually tend to cry and tell secrets about myself to people that I swore I’d never share with anyone.”

“Just one for you, then,” Cam laughed.

“None for me,” Angela said.

Daisy giggled, burped, covered her mouth, then asked, “What, are you pregnant?”

Angela just looked at her straight-faced, then asked, “I was thinking of highlighting the bottom of the sun with Goldenrod, what do you think?”

“Wow,” Cam said. “It’s just—I mean, wow.”

“O.M.G.,” Daisy said, wide-eyed.

Michelle gave Daisy a curious look, then said, “Why is it such a big deal? You’re married, right?”

“In the real world, it’s a lot more than just ‘Are you married or not’”. Cam crossed her arms.

“It’s not. It’s not a big deal,” Angela said, her voice pitching. She made a gesture which sent Goldenrod splattering around the room.

Daisy jumped back.

“Does Hodgins know?” Cam asked.

“Of course he knows. And he’s fine. It’s not like we can’t afford two children.”

“What about Brayden’s therapy?”

“Four times a week he has speech therapy and he has physical therapy twice a week. He’s doing great. Thriving. It’s going to be great, I mean…” Angela realized that maybe she was mostly trying to convince herself more than anything.

“What about your job? I mean, a friend of mine got preggers and she dropped school like a hot skillet,” Michelle said.

Angela was silent for several seconds, her mind in another galaxy. “I think… I need to step out for some air or something.”

“Angela, I didn’t mean to…” Cam tried to stop her, but watched her walk out of the apartment. She then looked back at the mural Angela had painted. It looked great. Again, that sadness began to creep in… that feeling that maybe she had missed out on something in life.

A cell phone rang. Michelle answered it, “Uh-huh. OK. I’m sure it’s fine with my mom. OK. See you there.” She hung up the cell phone, “Is it OK if I go with Makaylee to the movies tonight?”

Cam nodded, a little dazed. Michelle probably didn’t notice what she had said as she walked out of the room. Daisy chatted about strawberries and pink or something along those lines, but Cam was content in the thought that she had done everything right in her life.

She smiled.

Then her own cell chimed its familiar tune. She looked down and saw that she was expecting a text message from David Murray. Where did she learn that name? Oh, yeah. The handsome YOUNG doctor that she met in the NICU.

Accept? Decline?

She accepted it.

Inbox: Free tonight?

She felt her cheeks warm. Daisy was transfixed by the little apple blossoms that danced around the window treatments. She replied, “Maybe.”

After a minute, he hadn’t replied, so she decided to shoo Daisy out of the apartment and search for Angela. As she locked up, she received another text message. She took her hands out of her gloves, exposing them to a wintry D.C. wind.

Inbox: I’ll pick you up at 8.

For a moment, she was bewildered. How could he possibly…? Instead of asking the obvious, she replied, “See you then.” If he wanted to play Sexy and Mysterious, she wouldn’t fight it. She would sit back and see what happens.

****

Thank you for reading. I apologize for the inconsistency in updates. Right now my goal is just to finish it. This semester has been kicking my butt in the worse way. I will try to update once a week. I have time to be creative every weekend. I'm hoping that when I do sit down and write, that something comes of it and I have something to share with you guys.

****

woohoo!! don't worry about it Mama, school sucks sometimes!

Mama, thank you for writing. This is a wonderful story, sporadic or not!

Gahh!! I love this story. I hope that little Lucy is doing well. I love the idea of Brennan pregnant because it's such a beautiful and complex subject. You've really out done yourself this time. The way you've written it is so realistic. Please update as soon as you can.

Mama, I'm just checking in with you on this story to see if you've had a chance to add anymore to it. Booth had gone home from the hospital with Booth, the girls were all decorating the nursery ...