A/N: I like to think Christine, Joy, and Michael would be experts at getting into trouble and getting away with it because they're so precious to their parents.

Also, for those of you waiting for the next chapter of All of the Courage, it should be up...eventually.

Disclaimer: Yeah, no.

They have always been opposites, even as sisters. Christine is smart and rational, Joy is intuitive and follows her heart. But they are sisters, and bound by blood, and though it is a bond many siblings choose to ignore, it is one they cherish.

Christine is older, and she has always thought of herself as the teacher. She is the one who tried to explain science and math for Joy, even after Joy wrinkled her nose at it and told her she didn't like science. She is the one who, once upon a time, was too rooted into her own happiness in rationality that she couldn't understand why her sister didn't feel the same way. She is the one who learned to think of others through her sister, and then began teaching Joy different things: what to say to their mother to convince her to take them to the lab. How to act around their dad to get him to let them have junk food for dinner. How to plead with Aunt Angela to let them play with her paints, what words to say to get Uncle Jack to show them his bugs. Michael had always been there with them, learning and growing with them. He was older than both of them, and he loved to brag about it. The three of them were experts at manipulating the adults, each for their own reasons. Michael was best at manipulating his parents: his mother because she was a sucker for his smile, and his father because any interest he showed in bugs was like giving his dad a million dollars.

Christine was best at manipulating her mother and Cam. Cam was easy because when she was younger, Cam had babysat for her often, at least once a week, and had taught her a lot about her parents' job. Her mother was obvious: Brennan was absolutely thrilled that her daughter was pretty much a miniature version of her.

Christine was good at manipulating her father as well, but no one was better than Joy. Christine, as great an actor as she may be, was only an actor. She had trouble with physical contact, and had a huge personal bubble around her. Anything past the occasional hug, even from her parents, was uncomfortable to her.

But Joy. Joy wasn't acting when she pranced up to her father, wrapping her arms around his leg and begging him for what the three of them wanted that day: ice cream for dinner/a trip to the park/convincing their mother to buy them a play set. In no way was Booth disappointed in Christine – he absolutely loved having a miniature version of the woman he loved – but Joy was definitely the daughter he'd always imagined having. She was bubbly and energetic and at the end of the day she adored curling up in his lap as she fell asleep. Denying her was even harder than denying his partner or his other daughter.

Although they were all close friends, Joy had always been more of an accessory to the older Christine and Michael than an equal part of their 'team'. She was the one who had the highest success rate at manipulating Booth and, honestly, all of the squint squad. She tagged along and had fun with them, but she never came up with plans, and when she did Christine and Michael would either a)laugh at them or b)steal them for themselves.

But not today, Joy thought smugly to herself. Today she was the leader, and she felt a strong sense of accomplishment at finally getting to be better than her sister and her cousin. A strong mix of her mother's rationality and her father's psychology had taught her what she needed to do: instead of telling them her plan, she'd picked out tiny details from her plan, only enough to entice them, then roped them in.

She led Christine and Michael to the corner of the bullpen, then waved at them as they joined arms and walked into Hacker's office. They'd tried to convince her to let them come with her, but she'd turned them down, her plan already devised perfectly. Once she'd made sure that they'd convinced Hacker to let them stick around – Hacker wasn't exactly a part of their parents' 'group', but he was a valuable friend to them whenever they visited their father – she pranced towards her father's office. Agents rushed around, but she walked through them easily. All of the agents near her father's office knew her, as she was around at least once a week.

She rapped smartly on her father's door, then took a step back and reached into her back pocket for the piece of paper she'd brought with her. Her father's voice rumbled from inside – "Come in!" – but when she didn't make a move to open the door, she heard his heavy footsteps before the door swung open.

"Joy!" The shock on his face was clear, but his happiness was too. He crouched, wrapping his arms around his daughter and swinging her up into his arms. "Hey there! What are you doing here?!"

Joy wrapped her legs around her father, tightening her grip and giggling. "Hi daddy! Auntie Cam needed to talk to someone here so she brought us along." Her father's arms tightened, boosting her further up into his embrace before he closed the door and deposited her on the couch.

"Where's your mommy?" he asked, kneeling in front of her. She was excellent at picking up on people's emotions, so over the years she'd collected much more data than Christine and Michael. She knew, for example, that her father both hated and loved seeing her grow up, and he always thought she looked adorable wearing summer dresses and flowers in her hair. She'd gone even above and beyond: not only had she worn the red dress his father had brought home for her, but she'd chosen daffodils to wear in her hair...her mother's favorite flower.

"She had to teach Auntie Daisy to do something," Joy said vaguely. She wasn't even lying. Her mother was going to babysit the three of them that day, but she'd gotten a call from the lab and had dropped the three of them in Aunt Cam's office. It was pure luck that Cam had gotten a call from the FBI, asking her for her expertise, and they'd been able to put their plan into action.

"Well," her daddy said, straightening his back and sitting down beside her. "Is there anything you're here for?"

"No!" she said vehemently, wrapping her arms around her dad. "I just wanted to visit you."

Her dad chuckles, pressing a kiss against the top of her head. "I'm so sorry, baby, but I'm really busy right now. Look, how about I call Auntie Cam up here so that she can take you back to the lab?"

Joy jumped up, holding her hands behind her back. "It's okay, daddy," she says smartly. "I'm a big girl. I know where she'll be."

Her dad's smile wavers, and she picks up on that love/hate feeling towards her growing up. She immediately runs toward him, wrapping her arms around his leg. "Love you daddy."

His hand immediately drops to her head, smoothing back her hair. "Love you too, baby."

She smiles, stepping back and skipping out of the room. She doesn't have to look back to know what'll happen: he'll wait until she's gone from sight. Then he'll pick up the phone and dial Cam's number, tell her to make sure Joy gets to the lab safe, and maybe threaten her even though all it will do is make Cam laugh.

It'll be hours, she smirks to herself, before he realizes the key in his pocket – the key to the cupboard above the fridge, where he keeps all the chocolate and other junk food he doesn't know his girls know exists – is missing.


Brennan twists the front knob, humming to herself. The tune is mindlessly familiar to her, just like the voices of both her daughter's and the sound of her nickname on her partner's tongue. It is late, she is tired, and the humming is keeping her awake.

She ambles through her house, dropping her key into the bowl on the cupboard right beside the door. The house is dark and quiet, remnants of the day still littered around it. Summer break has always been difficult to balance, what with their work and their kids. These days they take turns: during the first part of a case, where she is constantly needed at the lab, he stays home with them. When they get to the more personable part of the case, she stays home. And whenever they are both needed, Angela or Cam stays with the kids.

She yawns, blinking her eyes and trying not to fall asleep on her feet. The darkness isn't making it much easier for her, but she manages to drag herself into the kitchen for a quick late night snack. She drops her purse on the counter and opens the fridge door, allowing the cold air to drift around her and raise goosebumps on her skin. The light washes over her, but it doesn't illuminate anything good to eat. Over the years, she's developed a sweet tooth just like Booth, and her almond milk and fruits won't satisfy the aching on her tongue.

The pantry doesn't reveal any wonders, either. There are granola bars and yogurt chips but nothing really good. She runs the tip of her tongue over her front teeth and thinks about her craving. Chocolate, she thinks. She's craving chocolate. And a pop.

Time to break into The Cupboard.

The Cupboard had been Booth's idea. He'd created it when Christine had stopped asking for food and had started searching for it. She'd been very angry at him when she'd come home to find Christine trying to figure out how to open a beer can (she'd picked it out while Booth was in the bathroom and was rolling it on the ground, holding the cold metal to her cheeks). In the end, when she'd threatened to throw out all the unhealthy stuff he kept in the fridge, he'd put all his things in the cupboard and locked it. Inside were cans of pop and beer (he'd put them in the freezer for a couple of hours whenever he wanted one), bars of chocolate, bags of gummy worms and licorice.

She pulls the key he doesn't know she has from her pocket, dragging over a chair to stand on. She slides the key in and turns it, opens the door, already tasting the sweetness of the chocolate on her tongue, the bubbling of the pop on her lips...

...but the Cupboard is empty.

She leans back slightly, puzzled. It's been a while since she opened the Cupboard, and Booth is the only one who stocks it, so it's completely possible that he simply forgot to buy more food. But it doesn't seem possible – she's absolutely sure he chugged down a beer after the girls had gone to bed last night, and she's almost certain he had snuck a donut from it this morning.

She doesn't bother to lock the Cupboard as she walks towards their bedroom, still puzzling over the riddle. Booth is asleep, lying on his stomach and snoring contentedly, but that doesn't stop her. She pokes him in the middle of his back. "Booth."

"Mghphm."

"Booth," she repeats, and he rolls over, stretching.

"What is it?" he murmurs, peering at her. His arm wraps around her waist and he pulls them together.

"There's nothing in the Cupboard."

That wakes him up. "What do you mean, there's nothing in the Cupboard?"

"It's empty. I thought maybe you forgot to restock it."

"Ya think? It's my only responsibility here when it comes to the kitchen. I never forget."

"Well then where did all the food go?"

He narrows his eyes, thinking, then moves slowly. He walks out of the room, ambling, looking almost like he's preparing to pounce. She follows him curiously, her curiosity spiking when he walks past the stairs and towards Christine's room.

"Booth," she hisses, "You're going to wake them up!"

"It's okay," he huffs. He rests his hand on the doorknob, counts to three, and swings the door open.

The door catches on the rolled-up towels covering the bottom edge of the door. The light flicks on only seconds later, and Brennan peers over Booth's shoulder in shock.

Christine and Joy are sitting on a comforter on the floor, their eyes wide like deer caught in headlights. Wrappers are scattered around them, and unopened cans are stacked by the wall.

"Christine!" Brennan says, her voice indignant. "Joy! What did you guys do?"

Chrissy looks down, embarrassed, and Joy immediately bursts into tears.

Booth crosses the room in three quick strides, pulling his daughter into his embrace. "I'm sorry," she sobs, shaking in his arms.

"Shhh," he whispers, rocking her as he leaves the room, his gentle murmurs floating back into the room, where Christine and Brennan are left staring at each other.

Christine drops her head, lips quivering. "I'm sorry, mom."

Brennan crosses her arms, trying not to let her lips curve into a smile. "Are you really?"

Her words bump and curve over each other as they spill out of her mouth. "I'll put back all the stuff we haven't eaten. I'll work with Cam and Angela until I've gotten enough money to buy back all the things we ate. Even enough to change the lock on the cupboard!"

Brennan's heart melts at her daughter's words. The fact that Christine didn't try to wiggle her way out and offered to do more than Brennan would've asked is more than enough for her, and she walks over and gently takes her hand.

"As long as you do that," she says, "we have a deal."

In a rare moment of comfort, Christine crawls into her laps and bumps the top of her head against her mother's chin.

Within half an hour, everything is smoothed out. Joy has fallen asleep in her father's arms, after promising to work with Christine. Christine is curled up in her own bed, wavering on the edge of sleep. All the remaining food has been stored and two happy parents watching their children lovingly.

The lights flick off, and both girls turn instinctively towards each other, eyes twinkling. Over the course of the past thirty minutes, neither has mentioned the treats in Michael's backpack. They haven't even mentioned Michael's involvement: the chair he dragged to the fridge, the way he boosted Christine up to the top of the fridge, the treats he passed down, the sticks of licorice and bars of chocolate they hid in his backpack to eat tomorrow.

All three fall asleep with the promise of tomorrow's sweetness on their tongues.