I wrote this story in honor of those who serve in the military.

I don't own Bones.

Oooooooooooooooooooo

Time moves faster than you think it does, at least that's how Booth felt about it as he stood in front of Teddy Parker's gravestone. It only seemed like yesterday that he'd been a young man doing his best to serve the country that he loved so much. He'd lost comrades in arms before, but Teddy had been the first that he'd felt responsible for. It took years and a visit from Teddy's ghost to ease his conscience over the younger soldier's death.

Of course, when Teddy appeared on the ship Booth was trapped on, Booth had been under the influence of drugs and he had a brain tumor growing in his head that he didn't know about. To this day, he still wasn't sure if he'd actually seen Teddy's ghost or not. Most of the time he chose to believe that he had. It seemed like something Teddy would do anyways. He always did like to keep his nose in everyone else's business, the smart ass.

Lost in thought, he didn't hear his youngest son approach him and was surprised when he felt a hand clamp on his shoulder. "Dad, it's almost time."

His reverie broken, Booth nodded his head. "Yeah, I'm coming." As he followed his son over to James Rawlins' gravesite, he noticed someone standing near the grave marker facing the stone and with his back turned towards Booth. Not sure who he was, Booth squinted as the glaring hot sun beamed down on him. "Who's that Hank?"

A slight smile on his face, Hank walked beside his father and chuckled. Booth had recently started wearing glasses, but the only time he really wore them was when he was driving. "I think it's some writer doing a story on war veterans. He seems like a nosy son-of-a-bitch to me."

Not in love with the press, Booth scowled at the idea of some nosy stranger interfering with family traditions. "You should have told him to leave us alone, Hank."

"Yeah, I probably should have." Stepping into the deep shade of the oak tree near Rawlins' gravestone, Hank laughed. "Parker it's about time you showed up at our family thing you lazy son-of-a-bitch."

Surprised, Booth saw his oldest son turn around and smile. "Dad, hey you're looking good."

Stepping quickly over to where Parker was standing, Booth threw his arms around his oldest son. "Parker I didn't know you were coming."

After he kissed his father's cheek, Parker moved back and looked down at James Rawlins' gravestone. "I know I've been absent a few years, but I told Liz that I had to be here this year. I always go visit Pops on Memorial Day, but this year I thought I'd come and check on James instead. I wanted to make sure his gravestone was okay and that someone was here to honor our traditions besides you, Bones and the kids."

Scoffing, Hank shook his head. "Who the hell are you calling a kid, Parker? I'm twenty-five and Christine will kick your ass if you start on that kid crap around her."

His hand up, Booth grumbled at both of his sons. "Okay you two. Can't you two ever get together without having a piss at each other?" His attention diverted, Booth noticed Brennan, Christine and her husband Carl approaching the tree. Christine was carrying a bright red cooler and Carl was carrying a few lawn chairs. "You two better behave. Bones will kick your asses if you don't show a little decorum around here and if she doesn't I will."

Once the cooler was placed in the shade under the tree, Brennan patted Christine's arm, moved over to where Parker was standing and hugged him. "Parker, I'm glad you could come this year."

Sheepishly, Parker hugged his step-mother. "Yeah, I know. I thought visiting Pops every year was the right thing, but . . . well, it hit me that I wasn't doing what Pops wanted and he's probably been a little mad at me for not visiting James for the last four years. I'm sorry. I'm going to start doing what you guys do. I'm going to visit James on Memorial Day and Pops the Saturday before. I know that's what he asked everyone to do, but I just . . . I just wanted someone there on Memorial Day."

Patting his oldest child's shoulder, Booth knew that Parker really loved his great-grandfather. "Yeah, but Pops was pretty adamant about how he wanted Memorial Day handled and it's not a good idea to buck him. When you finally get to meet him again it will probably be a good idea to make sure he doesn't have anything to complain about. An eternity of 'I told you' would probably get old fast pretty fast."

"You got a point, Dad." Moving over to where Christine was standing, Parker kissed her cheek. "Hey Sis."

Her arms now around her brother, Christine hugged him tightly and whispered in his ear. "Thanks Parker. I was hoping you'd come for Dad's sake. You know he adores traditions and he's always kept his word to Pops when it came to Memorial Day."

Careful to keep his voice low, Parker spoke into her ear. "Yeah and that second brain tumor scared the shit out of me. I'm here for Dad, Sis and for Bones. They deserve our support. I promise to honor Pops legacy from now on."

His words making her a little tearful, Christine continued to hug her brother. "Dad's okay though . . . he's fine now."

Not sure what was going on, Booth glared at his oldest children. "Okay . . . okay, you just saw each other at Christmas." Once they were facing him, Booth pointed towards the cooler. "Bones, let's get the sandwiches and cokes passed around."

After everyone had their peanut butter sandwich and coke in their hands, Booth moved closer to James's gravestone. The can of coke open, Booth drank some and then placed the can on the grass at this feet. "That coke was for you James." Swiftly removing the sandwich from the baggy, Booth took a deep bite, chewed it and swallowed. "Grape jelly and smooth peanut butter this year. It's still as good as you remember too."

While everyone ate their sandwich and drank their soda, a few visitors walked by and waved at the small family under the oak tree. The Booth/Brennan family had become a fixture over the many years and most of the people that visited the cemetery on Memorial Day would have found it disturbing if they had found no one standing under that particular oak tree eating sandwiches. Many knew about the tradition and it was part of the Cemetery's traditions of the day.

Once everyone had eaten, Booth moved over to where the lawn chairs were and sat down. The day very warm, Brennan worried that Booth might not handle the heat well, but so far he seemed to be fine. Moving her chair closer to his chair, she placed her hand on his arm. "Hank loved James' sense of humor."

"Yeah, he sure did." His gaze upon Brennan, Booth smiled at her. "According to Pops, James was a real kidder. He loved practical jokes. One of Pops' favorite jokes was how James would sneak up behind someone on guard duty and pop an air filled paper bag behind them. Of course he learned to make sure he was low on the ground so he didn't accidentally get shot . . . Hank said he'd learned early to make sure he wasn't close to the victim when James played one of his jokes. James got more than a few bruises messing with the wrong guy." After regaling the family with a few stories about James and Pops, Booth sighed. "I miss Pops so much."

Brennan gripped his hand. "I do too. I'm glad he was in your life, Booth and in mine. He knew we were meant to be together before we did. I don't know how, but he did."

"Yeah, he was like that." Booth stared at the many gravestones before him, the small American flags placed in front of each marker flapping in the wind. "Pops was a great man. He worked hard his whole life and when it was time to retire he started over raising his grandsons. He could have said he was too old and put us in Foster Care, but he didn't. Family was important to him and he made sure Jared and I were okay after . . . after we started living with him . . . I've always tried to be like him . . . I know I slipped a few times, made mistakes, but he forgave me and . . ." Unable to continue, Booth wiped the tears from his eyes.

Tears forming in her eyes, Brennan smiled a watery smile at her husband. "You're a good man, Booth. You've always been my good man."

Ooooooooooooooooooo

Happy Memorial Day everyone.

A/N: To our military and their families, thank you for serving.