A/N Hey everyone! Here's chapter two hope you like it! Stay tuned for the next chapter it's a doozy if I do say so myself, but make sure you review this chapter if you love me! Thank you! Also sorry it took so long, I got distracted with a new story. [A/N This chapter was reuploaded on May 23rd 2010 due o page break errors]

"Brandon, come back here with that!"

"No!"

Temperance really didn't have time to chase him around the house this morning. She was meant to be in court in two hours, and she had really wanted to stop by the Jeffersonian on the way to pick up some case files that she could be looking over while she was waiting around, but things hadn't gone quite to plan. Bea had come down with chicken pox last week, so most of the day was spent trying to make sure she didn't scratch. The kitchen sink was backed up, and the repair man was only just finishing up now, but as long as he was still getting her free coffee on demand it was probably going to be a while before he left. Yesterday she had been given someone else's suit at the dry-cleaners, so this morning when she realised, she had to go back and get the right one. They were running dangerously low on basic food items, but no one had had the time to go out and do the shopping. And now Brandon had taken her make up bag while she was trying to get ready to leave. He was clutching it in one pudgy little hand, which was probably also sticky with something disgusting he had found to play with, and he had tottered off in quite a wobbly fashion, where he would no doubt deposit it's contents all over the floor – another mess for her to clear up. He seemed fascinated by it because his mother rarely wore anything other than moisturiser on her face nowadays. As if she had the time, or the inclination, or any kind of motivation – such as going out for a quiet meal.

"Hey, daddy's going to be home to look after you soon, why don't you go play for a little while?"

"No!"

She sighed, put down her hairbrush, and had soon caught up to him. He squealed as she picked him up and carried him over to the playpen in the corner of the living room, where Bea was already sitting, contently playing with blocks (it was always worrying when one of them was quiet for more than a minute – it usually meant that they were doing something that they shouldn't be, such as making a mess of the already permanently untidy house). She set him down, and he almost immediately dropped the make up bag, and found something much more interesting to play with.

"Bea, stop scratching." she said, removing her daughter's hand from where it was determined to relieve the itching on her leg. She heard the front door slam, and the jingle of keys being thrown haphazardly in the bowl on the side table in the hall.

"Hello?" Booth was now home, so that meant Temperance could concentrate on getting ready to leave to go to court, while he took care of the children.

"In here."

"Daddy's home! You two ready to have some fun?"

"Are you sure you can cope with them on your own?" she asked, picking up the make up bag, and inspecting it to make sure nothing had fallen out.

"Of course I can!"

"I can call someone to come help out..."

"You're only going to be gone for a couple of hours, I think I'll manage."

"All right. Make sure Bea doesn't scratch, I made their lunch and it's in the fridge, they need a nap at three, I should be back by five but if I'm not do you think you can give them a bath? Don't forget to pay the repair guy. I'll try and go to the supermarket on the way home so we all don't starve to death. Try and keep the place tidy...well, don't make it worse than it already is."

He almost didn't catch the last part, as she had already made her way back to the bathroom to finish getting ready, almost knocking her suit that was hanging on the back of the door onto the floor. Now he was finally home she had no distractions to stop her from leaving, so she could have sometime to prepare before she got on the stand. Of course, she would be distracted, thinking about how he was having a meltdown. He wouldn't be able to cope on his own, he had only looked after them on his own twice in as many years. She did all the work around the house and she looked after them all day – all he did was show up at meal times and bring home a pay check every month. He was trying, but just not hard enough sometimes. This was the cause of most of their fights, which they tried to insist were just 'heated discussions'. Sometimes it would all get too much for her, and she would end up yelling at him for the littlest thing. It would then inevitably turn into an argument about who worked the hardest, even if it had originally been about whose turn it was to give the kids a bath. Everything was usually resolved after a few hours of frosty silence and cold looks, but the last time...Well the last time was different. Part of her wanted to drop whatever she was doing (and she was always doing something) and run away, back to her old house, back to her job that she had almost given up before being told that she couldn't just leave them without any notice – even if she had just had twins – and back to before any of this had ever happened. But she saw her children, who had just turned two at the time, and thought if she left them there with him then there wouldn't be anything left to come back to – whenever she thought of running away, she always thought about coming back too, and if she believed in psychology she would say it meant that she was supposed to stay. She loved them too much to subject them to unwashed laundry and food not prepared in the usual way that they were used to. And she loved him too much to leave him, even if he drove her crazy sometimes. She had managed for two years without any ill effects (except that one time where she felt like 'accidentally' leaving Bea and Brandon in the supermarket, then drive home for a few uninterrupted hours of sleep). She could cope for a few more years, and then their school teachers could deal with them during the day, while she caught up on five years worth of rest.


Temperance turned her key in the lock, opened the front door, and was greeted by...silence. It had been a long time since the house had been this quiet, and she wasn't really sure if she liked it this way.

Had Seeley cracked under the strain and murdered the twins? Had the twins been so incensed at not having their mother to torment while they were meant to be napping that they had knocked him unconscious and run away together to join the circus? Sure, she had been gone for a while and had stopped to buy food and other household items, but had she been gone long enough for the three of them to get sick of each other?

She walked into the kitchen, but no one was there. She went back into the hallway and towards the living room, navigating her way around the laundry basket at the foot of the stairs and various toys that littered the floor. From the doorway, she put her head round the door, and was stunned at what she had found. Seeley, Bea and Brandon, all asleep on the sofa – at exactly the right time they were meant to be napping, he had managed to get them to actually do it. They all looked so peaceful, curled up together. At the very least she had expected to see one of them bawling. But all she could hear was that soft snuffling sound that they both made when they slept. Temperance wanted to wake him up to ask him how he had done it, but that would probably mean waking the twins up as well. That was definitely not what she wanted.

As she tried to quietly sneak back out of the room (not easy when walking in high heels on their wooden floor, and now that she was consciously trying not to make a noise, she inevitably would), she felt a little bit disheartened – why had he managed to get them to nap at the right time, and why had he managed to look after them with no problems, when she had the constant battle of getting them to the things in their routine every day.

The phone rang, and Temperance dashed to the side table that it sat on, desperate not to wake anyone and then have to try and get the twins back to sleep.

"Hello?" she said into the receiver, her voice barely above a whisper even though she was no where near the living room.

"It's Angela. I need your advice."

"OK, go ahead."

"I have a date tonight and I'm not sure what to wear. That blue dress I got when we went shopping a few weeks ago, or a black skirt and that pink blouse?"

"Why are you asking me? You know clothes aren't my thing."

"You're supposed to be my best friend, and I really want this to go well. So please, just tell me what you think, because I feel like my brain may have fallen out."

"Who is this guy, Ange?"

"Um... it's Jack."

"Jack? As in Jack Hodgins? From work? Jack the bug guy?"

"Yeah, that's the one. There's something between us, but I don't know what it is. So I have to make a good impression."

"Wear the blue dress. And just try not to panic, OK? It's going to be fine..."

"Are you upset that I didn't tell you before?" Angela asked, noting the her friends change in tone of voice.

"No. I'm just kind of shocked, you know? I didn't know you liked him in that way."

"Well you haven't been around much since you had the babies. We haven't had chance to just talk in a long time. I sort of miss just having someone to talk about this kind of stuff with, in a non-work environment."

"I know. I'm sorry, we should do something – just me and you, no babies and no work. I promise."

"That would be good. Well, can we sort it out another time, or I'm going to be late. I'm really starting to panic. I just don't want to mess this up!"

"I know, Ange. You're going to be fine."

"Thanks, Sweetie."

"Have a good time."

"You too. Bye."

A good time, indeed, Temperance thought as she hang up the phone and removed her shoes. She sat down at the kitchen table and began to rub her feet, thinking of something she could do that wouldn't make any noise. Hoovering was out of the question, the washing machine had started making a noise like there was a spoon stuck in there (there probably was, something else for her to pay to repair), and she didn't want to risk the creaking stairs to go and tidy the bedrooms.

She needn't have worried though, because before she could make up her mind, she felt something tugging on the hem of her skirt. She looked down and saw Bea, with her comfort blanket in her hand, very obviously awake now.

"Hey you," she said, lifting her daughter on to her lap for a cuddle. "What happened to nap time?"