AN: This is slightly AU - I kind of manipulated the time. Zack is still around - Booth is a mere 35 years old - and Parker is 7 (I thought his childhood innocence would help my story better).

All I own is Mara.

"You moving in?"

I looked to where the voice had come from and saw a man in his mid-thirties walking up to me, a boy of about seven holding onto his hand. "No," I said, a smile playing on my lips, "I'm robbing the joint. Shh!" I added theatrically, "Don't tell!"

The man smiled and I was caught off-guard for a second. Never had a smile looked so good. He held out his arms and said, "Well here, let me help. You can clear the place out twice as fast."

He gestured toward the box in my hands and I said, "Don't worry about it. This is just pillows."

"I insist," he said, his smile widening.

I shrugged and handed him the box. "Thanks a lot…"

"Seeley," he said, finishing my sentence. "Seeley Booth."

"I'm Mara. Mara Graham." I turned to the boy standing next to him and asked, "What's your name?"

The boy smiled and puffed out his chest. "I'm Parker Booth! I'm six and three-quarters. This is my daddy. He works for the FBI! He's a Special Agent!"

"That's enough, bud," Seeley said, placing a hand on Parker's head and ruffling his curls. "Ms. Graham doesn't want to know my life story."

I laughed. "It's not a problem." Then I remembered the box Seeley was holding. Opening the door I said, "Here, you shouldn't have to hold that forever."

The two Booths walked into my new apartment the elder echoing me. "It's not a problem," Seeley said, another breathtaking smile upon his face.

I told Seeley he could put the box anywhere and then asked, "Can I get you anything? Water? Soda?"

"Soda!" Parkers said happily.

"Parker." Seeley reprimanded Parker in a low voice.

"Oh, please," Parker added, earning a nod and a smile from his father.

I laughed at the exchange and said, "All I have is Sprite. Is that okay?"

"That's my favorite! My daddy's too!" Parker informed me.

"Awesome!" I turned to Seeley. "Special Agent Seeley Booth of the FBI, can I get you a Sprite?"

Seeley smiled and said, "Sure, thank you. And please, call me 'Seeley'."

"Ok…Seeley." I tested it out, it sounded nice and felt good rolling of my tongue. "Give me a sec while I go get the drinks." I walked to the kitchen and opened up the fridge. All that I had was a 12-pack of Sprite, a half-full 6-pack of Guinness and the rest of my take-out salad from lunch. "Wow," I said softly to myself, "that's a sad commentary on my life."

"Parker and I were just about to make dinner. You're welcome to join us if you'd like."

I realized I had been louder than I thought. I turned and saw Seeley standing in the doorway of my kitchen, examining my meager rations. "It's fine," I said. "I don't want to impose, you've been more than helpful already."

"I insist," he repeated, his to-die-for smile gracing his lips again. " I always make too much and I'm sure Parker would love to have you over." Without breaking eye contact with me he yelled over his shoulder, "Park, would you like to have Ms. Graham join us for dinner?"

"Yeah!" said Parker, rushing into the kitchen. "Are you really coming over?" His wide blue eyes were full of hope.

I laughed and handed him his soda. "How could I say 'no' to that face?" I looked back to Seeley. "I'd loved to come over, and please, call me 'Mara'."

"To new neighbors!" Seeley said, holding up his Guinness – he and I had traded our sodas for something a little stronger.

"To new neighbors!" I repeated, holding up my own glass.

"To cheeseburgers!" Parker said happily, holding up his burger. We all laughed and Seeley and I hit our glasses against Parker's burger.

After Seeley had put Parker to bed he walked me two doors down the hall to my new home. "This was fun," I said. "I was afraid I wasn't going to meet anyone, I hardly new any of my old neighbors."

Seeley rolled his eyes dramatically and said with a smile, "Yeah, but they were New Yorkers. Park and I are always happy to show a little D.C. hospitality. Speaking of which," he added, handing me a piece of paper, "here's my number. Call me if you ever need anything."

"Oh, thanks," I said taking the small slip of paper. Then I took the pen that I had stuck in my hair and quickly wrote my number on his arm. "There's mine. Sorry I don't have any paper."

"Not a problem," he said, it seemed to be our catchphrase. Like a true gentleman, he opened my door for me and said, "I guess I'll see you later, Ms. Mara Graham," with a smile and an exaggerated bow.

I laughed and curtsied. "And I, you, Special Agent Seeley Booth." I walked in and closed the door reluctantly. "Bye," I said softly.

"Bye," was his simple response.