A Dream Is a Wish

The lab outside Brennan's office is quiet, and half the lights have already been turned off. This is not unusual, considering that tonight is Friday evening, and it's well on its way to being the weekend. Brennan doesn't notice, though, because she's immersed herself in the paperwork from a rather interesting Limbo case—a female Civil War soldier—and she's caught up in the details. She likes to stay late to do her paperwork rather than take it home because, truthfully, the lab is her favorite place to be, and she rarely gets to enjoy it when it's quiet. She doesn't even worry that one of her friends will try to drag her away: Angela and Hodgins have gone to dinner; Cam is having a "girls' night" with her new daughter; Sweets has a date with Daisy; and Booth has Parker for the weekend.

As if on cue, her cell phone rings. She finds it under a pile of manila folders and answers it after a glance at the caller ID.

"Hey, Booth."

"Bones! Are you still at the lab?" The tone is the same disbelief, but it's not the voice she expects.

"Parker?"

"It's Friday night, Bones. You don't have to do your homework 'til Sunday."

Brennan laughs. "Did your dad put you up to this?"

She hears muffled giggles and a whisper, as if Parker is receiving instructions. "I can be concerned for your…what's the rest, Daddy? For your lack of social life all on my own, Bones. I'm practically a preteen," the seven-year-old says with pride.

Brennan doesn't argue the point. Instead she sighs, "Fine." I'll just finish this one thing, and then I'll go home."

The next answer comes not from the other end of the line, but from a deeper voice in her doorway, and she jumps when she hears it.

"You would lie to a child, Bones? Really, I'm shocked."

There's Booth leaning against the door frame with a half-smile, and there's Parker next to him, snapping his father's phone shut and saying with reproach, "Hey. I'm practically a preteen."

"Booth!" she says as she lets out a breath. "You should learn to make noise when you walk. What are you two doing here?"

Parker enters the room and pulls her out of her chair with all the enthusiasm of Seeley Booth and with all the exuberance of a child. "We came to get you, Bones! The sun's almost down and we have to get out of the city by nighttime."

Brennan is confused at first. Have they suddenly become fugitives? But Booth translates for her. "We're leaving the city because we want to be able to see the stars better. There's a meteor shower tonight, and we'd like you to join us."

"Because Daddy says you like the stars just like I do, and you can probably tell me all about them, and we can make a wish when we see the shooting stars, and we brought Chinese food in the car because Daddy says you probably didn't eat yet, so we waited for you."

Brennan marvels at the child's lung capacity as he finishes his run-on sentence. She begins to protest: Booth cherishes the little time he gets to spend with Parker, and she doesn't like to intrude on it. But she finds that when father and son are presenting her with identical pleading smiles, she simply cannot say no.

"I'd love to," she replies with a smile of her own. Parker cheers as Brennan gathers her files and Booth gathers her belongings.

When the trio is walking down the sidewalk toward Booth's SUV, Brennan notices for the first time that Parker is missing his blond curls. "You cut your hair," she observes aloud. Parker's new buzz cut reminds her of the day Zack asked Angela to give him a makeover, and she wonders why the little boy would shear off his locks until said boy tilts his head up to look at his father.

"I got it to match Daddy," he tells her, "so he'll feel better about growing his hair back."

Booth smiles and raises a self-conscious hand to his own short hair, which was shaved for his surgery. The scar on the back of his head is still visible, but when Brennan looks at him and his military buzz cut, she can catch a glimpse of the soldier she's tried so many times to envision.

"That was very thoughtful of you, Parker." The younger Booth smiles at her approval as they reach the car. "I think you both look quite dashing," she continues, not daring to look at Booth.

*************

The ride out of D.C. is filled with excited chatter and relaxed conversation. Brennan divides her time between bantering with her partner and answering Parker's questions about astronomy.

The stars are beginning to fight through the last remnants of daylight when they reach a park. It's far enough from the District that the city lights don't intrude upon their view. And far enough that their dinner is almost cold. Unconcerned by the core temperature of the noodles, Brennan and Parker retrieve cartons and chopsticks while Booth spreads a blanket on the ground.

The three eat picnic style and the stars finally light up the cloudless sky. Parker fairly bounces in anticipation. Booth sighs contentedly after he's put aside his empty food carton.

Brennan watches Booth out of the corner of her eye. He had a long recovery after his surgery. She watched him work hard to regain his health, and even harder to attain his prior physical condition. His efforts were rewarded two weeks ago when he was cleared for field work. Since then he's thrown himself into his work with such fervor that it would seem that he has something to prove, which Brennan doesn't really understand. Despite her elation that she'll no longer have to work with Agent Perotta, Brennan has had more than a few arguments with Booth in the past two weeks about just how much rest the agent should be getting. He may fool others, but she sees his exhaustion and he becomes selectively deaf when she mentions it.

Now Booth catches her concerned glances. He meets her eyes and then rolls his own good-naturedly. "I'm fine," he mouths over Parker's head.

Any response she may have had is driven away by the boy's excited squeak. "I saw one! I saw one! Did you see it, Daddy?"

Booth chuckles at his son's excitement. "No, Bub, I missed it."

"Pay closer attention, Daddy. We have to make a wish on the next on, 'kay?"

The shower is just starting, so there is a long gap between shooting stars. While they wait for the next streak of light, Brennan explains the difference between a meteor and a meteorite to Parker, and she begins to point out various constellations.

She stops mid-sentence and Parker takes a surprised breath when another meteor shoots across their patch of sky. It seems as though it was just out of reach of Brennan's outstretched hand.

"Make a wish," an amused Booth reminds them.

Brennan closes her eyes and makes a wish. When she opens them again, it is to find Booth staring at her. "Why, Bones, I didn't think you had it in you." A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth.

"Seeing as you were kind enough to invite me out this evening, I thought I'd indulge you in your romanticism." She primly turns her eyes skyward again.

Booth laughs and leans back on his elbows. "Dr. Brennan, you are a constant surprise. So what did you two wish for?"

He is met by two expressions of incredulity. "If I tell you, it won't come true," Brennan and Parker say together.

Booth initially appears to be shocked that his partner would ever be on the same wavelength as his son, but his shock turns to absolute glee when Parker giggles and calls out, "Jinx!"

"I don—"

"Ah, ah," Booth cuts her off with a wag of his finger. "No talking until someone says your name five times," he explains.

Brennan frowns. She already doesn't like this game, but she plays along for Parker. And, if she's being honest with herself, she plays along because she hasn't seen Booth look this carefree in months.

"I never thought I'd see the day when you were struck dumb, Bones," Booth is saying.

"Da-ad," Parker chides him when Brennan triumphantly holds up one finger.

Booth pouts at his own mistake and lets Brennan sit in silence through two successive meteors. Parker, meanwhile, is teasing her. He's said, "Bones," three more times, bringing her tally to four. The child is showing admirable tenacity of will in holding out on number five.

Booth takes pity on her, and, with a crooked smile, says, "Temperance."

Brennan has been cured of her muteness, but before she can test her voice, Parker tears his eyes from the stars to look at her with a pitying expression. "Your name is Temperance?"

Parker doesn't realize what a can of--snakes?--his question could open, but she simply answers, "Yes."

"I like Bones better."

"Me too," she replies with a laugh. Brennan watches another shooting star streak overhead and pretends not to see Booth pump his fist in victory.

*************

The meteor shower is in full swing now. Parker is leaning back against Booth's broad chest. Despite his fascination with the astronomical proceedings, the younger Booth is fighting to keep his heavy eyelids open. Come to think of it, the older Booth is fighting to keep his heavy eyelids open, too.

"So, Bones," Booth says quietly, eyes trained upward, "how did you know you're not supposed to tell a wish?"

"Most American children have seen Cinderella, Booth. I was a normal child once upon a time."

Booth tilts his head and slants Brennan a look of disbelief. "It's difficult to think of you as ever having been normal, Bones. And I mean that in the best possible sense." Before she can reply, he asks, "Did you like Cinderella?"

"I was willing to suspend my disbelief for the pumpkin carriage and for talking mice, but it irks me to no end when the damsel in any story must be rescued by a prince. Why couldn't Cinderella just save herself? In many cultures—"

Parker's groggy voice interrupts her anthropological tirade. "Daddy says that it's okay for the prince to save the princess sometimes, but sometimes the princess rescues the prince, and that's okay too. Like in Beauty and the Beast and Mulan." And with that, he turns to bury his face in his father's t-shirt and is fast asleep within moments.

A smile pulls at Brennan's lips. "That's very…untraditional of you, Booth."

Her partner has been watching his son sleep. He raises his eyes to meet her. The light of another shooting star reflects in them. "I'd be a liar if I taught him any different. You've rescued me enough times to prove the theory's valid."

They hold each other's gazes for a moment more, then Booth lies on his back, pulling a sleeping Parker with him. The meteor shower is winding down now, but Booth doesn't show any interest in leaving. Brennan is just glad that he's finally resting: She doesn't care where he chooses to do it.

"Tell me more about the constellations," he whispers.

So she lies back too. Brennan points to Ursa Major and tells the ancient Roman story that goes with it. Then she tells the Greek version. She's halfway through an explanation of the Hindu name for the same constellation when he laces his fingers through hers.

She pauses only slightly. This is new. He's held her hand before, yes, but there was always pretense—to keep her from falling on the ice, to pull her along behind him, even because he was frightened. But never for no reason.

She doesn't comment. Instead, she uses her other hand to point to stars that are actually whole galaxies.

"You're so smart, Bones." He says her name on a yawn. "I like it when you teach me stuff."

"I like it when you teach me stuff, too, Booth."

She eventually runs out of astronomical knowledge. The stars aren't skeletons, after all. They are content to listen to the night insects, to the wind in the trees, and to Parker's light snores.

Booth has been tracing circles on Brennan's hand with his thumb. This is also new (change is inevitable, she remembers telling him, but that doesn't mean change has to be bad). But the small movement begins to slow, and it eventually stops.

She turns her head to find her partner sleeping soundly with one arm wrapped around the child who is still slumbering on his chest. As irrational as it seems to her, Brennan considers watching them sleep all night. On impulse, she risks running her hand through her partner's abnormally short hair. Just once.

She knows Booth to be a light sleeper. She thinks it's a testament to his exhaustion that he doesn't stir when she takes the keys from his pocket. The scientist's conclusion is supported by more evidence when she lifts Parker from his arms: Booth merely rolls onto his side as she carries the boy to the SUV and buckles him in.

On her return, she kneels down next to him, yet is loath to wake him. However, she can't lift him as she did with Parker, and the August heat is giving way to rapidly dropping nocturnal temperatures. So she lays a hand on his shoulder and says, "Come on, Booth. It's time to go home." She pulls him into a sitting position. He groggily allows her to lead him by the hand to the passenger door after she's gathered up their belongings. He only protests when she reaches for his seatbelt.

"I'm not a child, Bones," he says with a glance at his still sleeping son in the back seat.

She cups his face in one hand (this is new, too). "Let the princess take care of the prince this time, okay?"

He leans into her palm with a contented sigh. She hopes the quiet park and the open night sky, far from city lights and crowds of people, have convinced Booth to drop his tough guy act. His eyes drift shut and he finally answers, "'Kay."

*************

Booth dozes all the way to his apartment, but when they arrive, he's coherent enough to carry Parker upstairs. Brennan watches from the doorway as Booth lays a semi-conscious Parker in his bed and pulls off his shoes.

"Daddy," she hears the little boy mumble, "temperance is a virtue. We learned it in church."

"That's right, Bub," Booth replies. And he kisses his son on the forehead. "Temperance is a virtue." But Parker is already asleep again.

The partners retreat to the living room. Booth pulls Brennan into a hug, and he surprises her by kissing her on the cheek before he pulls away. "Thanks for coming, tonight, Bones. And thanks for taking care of us. Of me."

"You'd do the same."

"You don't have your car. Stay here tonight, and we'll take you to get it after breakfast tomorrow?"

There are cabs, and the Metro is still running, but Brennan agrees. This is not new: one of them has bunked on the other's couch after many a late night. But what Booth says as she moves toward said couch is new.

"Will you—I mean, you can…you can stay here." He motions in the general direction of his bedroom. "If, uh, you want."

Brennan for once understands exactly what he's trying to say. She hears the implied "stay with me" and she accepts it without comment. He manages to find a pair of her own pajamas that she's been missing (she recalls that they were left behind when she stayed with him for a few days after his release from the hospital).

Brennan emerges from the bathroom, having changed and washed her face, to find that Booth is already on his way to a deep slumber. He's had the energy to do little more than remove his cocky belt buckle. She pulls the shoes from his feet, just as she watched him do for Parker, and she smiles at the bright purple and green striped socks.

This is not the first time the partners have shared a bed, but this time does feel different. Especially when she crawls into bed and Booth (who is most certainly at least mostly asleep) wraps an arm around her waist. And when Booth (who won't remember speaking aloud, she's sure) mumbles, "I dream better when you're here."

Brennan doesn't respond. She simply thinks about how much work she didn't get done tonight, and about how her social life involves driving her friends home when they can't stay awake, and about how much she enjoys meteor showers.

As Booth's steady breaths lull her to sleep, she considers the possibility that wishes do come true.

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A/N: Thanks for reading. I wanted to take a moment to remind you that I don't own the rights to Bones, nor do I own the rights to any Disney movies. The title comes from a song in Disney's Cinderella.