What
manner of man
Author: wanderingsmith
March 2006 [edited may 2007]
Rating: PG-13
Summary: rain, luggage and lights
Status: complete
Couple: B/B
Disclaimers: As it is thought, so let it be as said… You make the
toys,I play with them.
AN: was reading through an old folder with 'thought' files and came
across this one:
I've learned that you can tell a lot about a man by the way he
handles these three things:
a rainy day, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights.
and I thought, OMG, that sooo needs a Booth fic!. so I challenged
my faithful chatter Katie to a race.. I lost, <sigh>, I could
blame my one-handed typing... but to paraphrase Lionel, faster typing
would not make my thinking any faster
AN2: many thanks to Elyssa for betaing
May2007 AN5: many thanks to Serendipityxxi for catching my lack of
geography research! from Tampa to Tallahassee it is!
They stood a few feet away from the turnstile, discussing the people
getting their luggage while keeping an eye out for their own.
"I'm telling you, they're having an affair."
Tempe glared at him, "They *could* simply be colleagues, or related
or" He started laughing and nodded his head to where the couple
in question were exchanging a deep kiss down the concourse.
Tempe rolled her eyes. "Fine, he's having an affair with a
younger woman! Modern cultures has a completely unreasonable
response to mates of different age groups. Anthropologically
speaking, choosing someone younger had any number of very good
reasons. Young Roman males were enrolled in the army at 17, and
by the time they were released at 46 and could afford to marry, the
resulting couple was inevitably an older man and a very young
woman. And then there's the"
He interrupted her gesturing with a finger wagging in front of her
nose. "OK, OK! Just admit you lost the guess! You don't
need to compensate just because I have better people instincts..."
They continued to snip back and forth as the turnstile emptied and the
crowd dispersed, finally noticing that they were the only ones left,
and still no luggage.
"Dammit! My tools were in there!"
"Calm down Bones, lets just go see what's going on." He slipped
an arm around her and turned her toward the Tallahassee arrivals
counter.
"I'm sorry Agent Booth, the hold is definitely empty. We'll have
to call DC and track where your bags went. Would you like to wait
in the lounge for news? Or I can simply get you some vouchers
right now for new articles." The young red-head looked spooked
every time Bones glared at her and Booth stopped himself from just
pulling out the charm. His Bones could react in unpredictable
ways to that, sometimes.
"That's alright. We'll take the vouchers." He wrote down
their cell numbers as she handed them a custom money voucher with their
reported bag values written in, "Please contact us as soon as you find
our luggage."
"Of course. American Airlines is always pleased to help the
Bureau in any way."
Booth noticed Temperance eyeing him out the corner of her eye as they
walked away, "What?"
She raised her brows at him, "I'm waiting to hear the complaints about
not having a suit to change into."
"Vouchers, Bones, vouchers."
"Uhu, we both know those fancy suits of yours don't come off the rack
fitting you."
He grinned widely, "Ever hear 'Money talks'?"
She frowned at him, "No. And you are still far too cheerful."
He ignored her words and wrapped his arm around her to snag her close
and whisper in her ear, "And thank you. Glad to know you notice
their fit."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Booth held the camera cable as steady as he could, following her
occasional snapped order.
"Here. You can see the bottom section of the ribcage."
He watched over her shoulder as she wrote down the precise location for
the recovery team.
"OK. Let's move further to the right.."
As she spoke, Booth felt three drops of water hit his neck in quick
succession. "Ah crap. This should be fun."
He watched as Bones smirked at him, "You need to stop wearing those
$1500 suits Booth. You're really not going to be spending time in
the right places for it if you stay with me."
He rolled his eyes, reaching up to lift the lapel of his coat to try to
cover his neck. "Bones, you're my partner, we stick
together. Anyway, maybe your company is worth
it; sometimes", he added with a smirk.
Temperance smiled at him sincerely before going back to her video
screen, luckily under a protective awning. "We've been lucky the
weather's been nice this long anyway. Winter in the Panhandle is
usually far wetter."
"And that's suppose to make me feel better, how?"
She smirked to herself; he sounded resigned. She was glad her
work overalls were waterproof, she just had the annoyance of water
trickling on her exposed skin; and soaking her hair.. Maybe they
needed a distraction. "What would you rather be doing right
now. Assuming the weather is a constant."
He snorted derisively, mentally smiling at her scientific approach to
an age-old conversation gambit. "No thinking required
there. A chalet on the beach, patio doors in the bedroom, warm
comforter, roaring fireplace, beautiful forensic anthropologist with
water-wisped hair naked in my bed, filling my arms and warming me
up." The rolling cadence of his recitation and soft, dreamy tone
made the image crystal clear.
She blinked quickly to hold back sudden tears. Concentrated on
breathing calmly as she stared at the everglade watergrass on the
screen. "Stop. There. Left femur.", her voice was
still a bit hoarse. He had a knack for merging their two lives
without breaking a stride that she often wished she could emulate.
If someone had told her a year ago that Seeley Booth would willingly
stand in a boat, in the middle of a waterway, in the pouring rain, just
because it's where she was working. **And** would be casually telling
her that all he wanted was to be with her. She would have had
them committed. *After* laughing herself silly.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
"I can't believe you insisted on doing this on the way home from the
airport!" she opened the door to their flat as she spoke.
Booth rolled his eyes, "It's Christmas Eve Bones, if we don't do this
now, it won't be doable. Everything's closed tomorrow."
Temperance mumbled to herself about stubborn males who believed in
pagan-religious myths, watching him manhandle the tree into the
livingroom, leaving needles in his wake.
"You want to get the decorations box out of the office closet while I
secure this thing to the wall?"
Shaking her head and reminding herself of all the reasons she *did*
like Booth, Temperance dropped her bags, new and old, on the bed before
hunting for his, hopefully marked, box of ornaments. She had to
admit, he was organized. Angela had told her all sorts of horror
stories of what some men called organization when they'd moved in
together. And Booth had turned out to most certainly be an angel
in that respect.
She found a box with XMAS written in a large masculine scrawl with
black marker and dropped it next to Booth. Then went back to the
car to get his doubled luggage.
When she walked back into the living room, she found him sitting on the
floor untangling an intricate web of little lights while humming
Amazing Grace. She stood and stared at him, seeing the happy
smile on his face, wondering. It looked like a painstaking, and
ultimately useless job.
He looked up suddenly and his smile turned tender. He held a hand
out to her, "Merry Christmas Bones."
Leaving the bags in the hallway, she walked over and sat down next to
him, meeting his kiss and returning it just as tenderly.
She leaned on his arm as he returned to his lights. "I've heard
about these. Isn't it annoying to do this every year?
Knowing they'll just return to the same state again next year?"
He laughed softly, "It's Christmas. Like the smell of wood smoke
in ice cold air. Like carols on the radio and the busy
malls. Not *all* fun, but it all represents Christmas, which
represents spending time with the ones you love." He leaned over
briefly to kiss the top of her head. "You and Parker.
That's what this really is. A mess of lights is just the shape
it's taking."
And that was why she loved this man.
END
AN3: never
having HAD to learn Shakespeare, I tend to like his quotes that I
encounter, and when I was staring at my title trying to come up with a
better one, I remembered the one which has become the title
AN4:I despise researching. any references to history, geography,
physics, anthropology, crime fighting........ is deduced/gleaned from
reading, run through the sieve of my rotten memory. feel free to
correct me. do it politely, and I'll both make the change and credit,
unless it destroys the story, in which case I will disclaim my
alternate universe
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