Roots and Wings, Part Two

Faith in Love: Famous Last Words

AN:  This is crossposted from the "Faith in Love" collection, published on FFN, that was written for FaithinBones. There are nine other chapters so far in that collection, and two more to come when those writers finish their work, so I hope you'll go read them! There's some really great stuff there!

In the "Roots and Wings" timeline, this fits between Chapter 151, 'A Man in Uniform' and Chapter 64, 'Fate.''

.

.

Booth was surrounded by family and friends and people who loved him, and it irritated the hell out of him.

He sat in the backyard, protected from the late afternoon chill by a warm sweater and a blanket spread over his legs, and frowned at the crowds milling in front of him. Gathered at the grill, or around the coolers overflowing with ice and drinks, or sitting at one of the tables spread out across the lawn, they laughed and talked, swapping stories about God knows what, all while what seemed like hundreds of children chased each other across the grass, giggling and playing and screaming at the top of their lungs.

It was giving him a damn headache.

"Wow, you look grouchy. Here, this might help." Christine plopped herself down beside him and, after an exaggerated look over her shoulder, set a napkin-covered package in his lap. "Eat that quick, before Mom sees."

Booth lifted the edge of the napkin to find two pieces of jumbo shrimp, grilled and wrapped in bacon. Popping one in his mouth, he threw her an arch look. "I could use a beer, too."

She barked out a laugh. "Don't push your luck, kid."

"It was worth a shot." Booth finished off the other piece of shrimp, wiped his fingers with the napkin, then handed it to her. Christine crumpled it into her palm and stretched her arm out behind him.

"So why are you sitting here scowling at the world? It's a party. You're supposed to be having fun."

"Harrumph," Booth grunted. Jaw set in a cantankerous frown, he folded his arms across his chest. "It's not my party. I didn't ask for a party. Your mother didn't ask for a party. This is all your fault. I don't know half of these people."

Christine was too used to his truculence to take offense. She just laughed. "Oh, you do, too. And I didn't actually invite all of them. I told a few people we were having a family thing for your anniversary and I guess word just got around. You and mom know a lot of people, and they all think they're family."

"We don't have this many kids in our family," Booth groused as two little girls ran by, shrieking at each other loud enough to be heard two streets away.

Christine winced when he did. "That's true. What can I say, your friends had kids and now they have grandkids."

"And they're all in my backyard."

"Looks that way." She sent a frown of her own toward the bunch swarming like ants up the ladder to the treehouse. When a crash came from somewhere inside, she jumped up and marched over to stand beneath it. "Hey!" she called out. "You guys be careful with my treehouse! Don't break anything!"

A chorus of small voices drifted out from the interior. "Okay!" We won't!" "Sorry, Aunt Christine!"

No one argued that, fifty years and countless children after its construction, the treehouse was, in fact, still Christine's.

She returned to Booth's side and picked up the conversation again. "Yes, they're all in your backyard. Because it's a party. Stop being a grumpy old man."

"We had a party last year," he snapped. "And the year before that. Why do we have to have a party every year?"

Christine's face wore the same stubborn expression he'd seen hundreds of times on Brennan. "Because we love you, okay? Because it's a big deal! Do you know how many couples make it to their 47th anniversary? Don't make me ask Mom, because I will, and you know she'll know the answer. Yes, we are going to have a party every year and you're going to like it! And when we get to your 50th, I'm going to have an ice sculpture and a band and you're going to have to wear a suit! So there."