A/N: The original Nurse Ratchett was the mean nurse in One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest...

"Knock, Knock. Good morning, Mr. Booth." A perky young nurse's aide cautiously opened the door to Hank Booth's room and peeked inside, only to be answered by a raspy growling voice.

"Go away, damn it! I'm fine. I've been dressing myself for 84 years, Nurse Ratchett, so I guess I can dress myself today!" Hank Booth reached over to steady himself on the nightstand as he rose unsteadily from the side of his hospital bed.

The young woman cocked her head to one side and smiled. "I know you can dress yourself, Mr. Booth. I was just checking to see if you needed any help this morning. Your company will be here soon, and, as a former military man, I know you wouldn't want to be late, right? Don't you want to turn out shipshape and Bristol fashion when they get here?"

"Get out of here with that Navy lingo. This Army man doesn't need the help of a swabbie. Don't you have a poop deck to mop?" Hank reached over to grab the handle of his walker. "This room ain't big enough for the both of us, Ratchett…and I don't need you in here leering at me while I shimmy out of my pajamas."

Hands on hips, the nurse's aide tapped her foot as she surveyed her charge. "My name's Sandy Jensen, Mr. Booth. I tell you what...you tell me what you want to wear, and I'll get it out for you. Then I'll give you a few minutes to change, and when you're ready, you buzz for me, and I'll make sure your shirt's tucked in right and your fly's up like it's supposed to be to keep you from making a spectacle of yourself. Deal?"

Hank smiled as he nodded in agreement. He liked a woman with a backbone. "Alright. Give me some time to get my britches on, and then you can make sure I look okay." He gestured toward his tiny closet. "I want some tan pants, the dark blue plaid shirt and my dark blue sweater." He inhaled heavily and sank back down on the bed, wheezing noisily. "Now see what you did? All this arguing with you wore me out!"

Ms. Jensen smiled sadly as she got the requested clothes out of the closet. "Sorry, Mr. Booth. I'm just doing my job. I didn't mean to make you tired and short of breath. Why don't we just sit here for a few minutes and chat 'til you catch your breath, okay?" She sat in the side chair next to the bed, watchful in case Hank continued to have difficulty breathing. "Who's coming to visit you today for your birthday? Your family?"

"Yep. My grandson and his wife are bringing my great granddaughter. We're gonna have some lunch and a nice visit…maybe play some dominos. They live in DC and he comes every chance he gets, but the rest of the family doesn't get to come as often." Hank beamed as he showed Jensen a picture of the family. "They're a fine looking couple, aren't they? And that pretty little girl...she's smart as a whip. You got kids, Jensen?"

Ms. Jensen laughed as she handed the picture back to Hank. "Two boys...six and four. They sure keep my husband and me hopping." She reached for Hank's wrist, checking his pulse and counting his respirations to make sure things were returning to normal. "Okay, Mr. Booth. Are you feeling better? Good. I'm going to wait right outside the door while you get dressed, and when you're ready, you holler for me, and we'll go up front, alright?"

Hank shook his head, grinning slightly. "I think you better help me get dressed, Ratchett."

Twenty minutes later, Hank was slowly pushing his walker down the hall toward the entry foyer, with Ms. Jensen following close behind him. "Alright, Mr. Booth. You just sit here for a few minutes until your family gets here. If you start to feel bad, you press the button on the wall there, and someone will come to help you, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, fine. I'll be fine." Hank tried to shoo her away as he settled on the bench in the foyer. "I may take a little nap 'til they get here." She fussed and crooned over him a few minutes more before leaving him alone with his thoughts.

He'd lived at the retirement center for almost seven years now, through all the changes of the staff and the administrators. Most of the friends he'd made when he first moved in had long since passed on, and new folks had come in to take their place. That's life, ain't it? Nothing lasts forever, he thought. He'd been able to take most of the changes in stride until six months ago, when Mamie Flaherty had quietly faded away. He laughed to himself as he thought of his Martha and his Mamie sitting in Heaven together swapping stories about their lover boy Hank. I might be in a bit of trouble when I get up there...I'll have some 'splaining to do to both of them, I guess. Might have to get St. Peter to bail me out, but Christ, I loved both of those girls so much...snoring softly, Hank dozed off, his head bobbing gently as he enjoyed a little snooze.

"Pops! Wake up, Pops! We've come to see you! Happy birthday!" Christine ran to her great grandfather where he sat, laughing and squealing with delight. "We're gonna stay and have lunch with you, and we brung you presents…"

"Brought presents, Christine…" Brennan smiled as she leaned down to give Hank a kiss on the cheek. "How are you feeling, Hank?"

"I feel great, and look at you, Temperance...you look beautiful. Pregnancy looks good on you. You and Shrimp oughta have three or four more kids after this one…"

"I don't know about that, Pops!" Booth laughed as he hugged his grandfather. "We're gonna have three as it is now….three or four more might be pushing it! How are you feeling? Are you still giving the nurses trouble?"

"Not unless they deserve it, Shrimp. The girl who helps me now doesn't put up with mouthiness, so I gotta be careful about how I spout off to stay out of trouble. Now, where's my granddaughter? Come here and see me, honey bee." Hank hugged Christine close as she nestled next to him on the bench. "How about some lunch with your old Pops?" He dropped his voice into a conspiratorial whisper. "Maybe we can find some ice cream for dessert, but don't tell your mommy. It'll be our secret, okay?"

Booth and Brennan grinned at each other slyly as Christine nodded, pleased with her secret. "I'm hungry, Mommy", the child announced. "I think we should go have lunch right now."

"Okay, then let's go." They followed Hank as he slowly navigated the hallway with his walker. "It's pot roast today, and a salad for Temperance. I love the pot roast they make here…almost as good as Martha's..."

The dining room looked just the same as the last time Booth had been there, but he noticed that a lot of the people he'd come to know as Pops' friends were missing. Booth sighed softly as he watched his grandfather try to cut his meat with his shaky hands. Jesus, Pops looks so thin and frail...like he'd blow away in a stiff breeze...and he's really wheezing a lot... I just want to soak in every minute while I'm here today, because who knows how many more minutes we'll have together? Booth grinned as he watched his wife shift in her chair. "Is the tiger kicking you again?"

"Yes, he's quite active right now." Brennan smiled gently at Hank as she turned to face him. "Would you like to feel the baby kick?" She took his hand and placed it on her abdomen, trying not to shed tears at the look of bliss on Hank's face.

"That little one really is a tiger, isn't he, Sweetheart? Must be doing the cha-cha." Hank smiled as he looked over at the little girl sitting across from him. "Are you excited about having a little brother or sister, Christine?"

Christine made a face as she poked her mashed potatoes with a fork. "Not really. I'd rather have a hamster." Unsure of why the adults were laughing, Christine wrinkled her nose as she looked at her father. "Daddy, did you give Pops his presents yet? We're having his party...we need some presents."

"You're right, Christine. Here...give this one to him…" Booth handed her a small package, and she walked around the table to give it to Hank. "I made this at school just for you, Pops."

"Well, bless my buttons. I've never seen a picture frame decorated as nicely as this one is. It's beautiful, honey bee." Hank ran his fingers across the glittery macaroni studded frame that held one of Christine's school pictures and then leaned over to give her a kiss. "I'm gonna put this by my bed so it's the last thing I see at night and the first thing I see in the morning. Thanks, Chrissy."

"Okay, Pops…" Booth handed him another package. "Open this one."

Hank unwrapped the box and turned it over, obviously confused. "What is this thing, Shrimp? Mini DVD player? What's that for?"

"Aw, c'mon Pops...you know...those flat disks with movies on them? Now you can watch your DVDs right here on this thing without having to turn on the TV. And look here what we got for you." Booth handed a larger box to his grandfather. "NCIS, Perry Mason, Bonanza...all your favorites, and now you can watch whenever you want."

"Well, that's pretty nifty, Shrimp. And it's little, so it won't take up a lot of room. I'm gonna like this little jewel, I think."

"Let me show you how it works." Booth took a DVD out of his jacket pocket and slipped it into the viewer. "It goes in here, and you press play…" Grainy black and white pictures began to appear on the screen.

"That don't look right, Shrimp...that ain't Gibbs…" Hank gasped as he turned to his grandson. "Wait a minute…is that what I think it is?"

"Yep. That's the DVD of the first ultrasound pictures of your great grandson...Henry Joseph Booth, although he'll probably only be called Henry by nuns and when he's in trouble. The rest of the time, he'll be Hank Booth...just like his great grandfather." Booth grinned as he saw the smile broaden across his grandfather's face. "That's him. There's his heartbeat, and he's sucking his thumb...oh, he kicked right there. Bones says he has a Booth chin, whatever that means…"

"Good Lord, that's just wonderful." Hank smiled as he shook his finger at Booth. "Now listen, I don't want to seem ungrateful, Seeley, because I'm honored at your choice of a name, but shouldn't you and Temperance name your son after your dad? I mean, that would be the right thing to do…."

Booth reached over to take Hank's hand. "We are naming him after my dad. In every way that matters, you are my dad, and it's my honor to name my son after you. I just hope I can help him to grow up to be as fine a man as you are, Pops."

Hank reached into his pants pocket and pulled out his handkerchief to dry his eyes. "I love you, Shrimp...you and your family mean the world to me." He blew his nose and grimaced slightly. "Damn allergies." In a few seconds, Hank's gruff exterior was back in place. "Okay, let's get my little honey bee some ice cream, and then I'm gonna teach her how to play dominos so that when she grows up, she can kick her daddy's ass." He glanced at the little girl's wide eyes and coughed a bit, chuckling as he saw the surprised look on his grandson's face. "I mean, tickle her daddy's feet."

They all laughed as they went into the parlor to play games, glad to be a family, and savoring the special time they had together.