A/N: If you read yesterday's entry early, please revisit it. It didn't feel complete after I posted, so I added to it. Thanks for all the wonderful reviews.

Booth stepped into the house and sniffed appreciatively. It smelled wonderful. Someone had clearly spent the day baking, cookies he hoped, and he quickly threw his keys into the bowl by the door. Maybe some of those wonderful things would be ready and he could work on ruining his dinner. Bones wasn't home to stop him from eating five or six of something.

His good mood lasted until he rounded the corner and spotted the kitchen. Stopping short, he took a deep breath.

His attempt at patience lasted until he opened his mouth. That was a good five seconds. It should count. Right?

"What the hell have you done to the kitchen?"

A head popped up from behind the island. Dark hair was covered in so much flour, he looked as if he'd aged fifty years since the last time Booth had talked to him. Which had only been that morning.

Sweets smiled and ducked his head behind the counter again. "Just a little accident," he called out. "Nothing to worry about. I'll have this cleaned up in no time."

It was the tone that had Booth's eyebrows lifting toward his forehead. Booth had used it once or twice on his grandparents when he was trying to hide something he'd done. It hadn't worked on them, either.

Exhaling a breath, Booth considered his options. He could follow Sweets' advice, go upstairs, and pretend he hadn't seen the state of his kitchen. Or he could man-up and help Sweets clean up whatever mess he'd managed to make.

Knowing what Bones would say if she came home and saw the mess, Booth realized there was really only one option.

Pushing up his sleeves, Booth tried to avoid the various piles of flour as he approached Sweets. There was a plate of finished cookies on the counter, and while tempted, Booth didn't touch them. A reward for when this mess was cleaned up. "What exactly happened?" he asked grabbing a broom. Only to realize that the broom was too small a weapon to bring to this battle.

Sweets squatted in the middle of a pile of flour and broken eggs, trying to wipe at the mess with a towel. "I hit the bag of flour with my elbow and when I turned to try and catch it, I hit the container of eggs. The flour bag burst when it hit the floor. As did the eggs."

Picking up his head, Sweets looked around. "It was like someone set a bomb off in here. Everything just kept falling and exploding."

Grabbing the dustpan, Booth lowered himself next to Sweets. "Let's try and push some of the eggs into this."

Relieved to have help, Sweets reached behind him to grab more towels and elbowed Booth in the nose.

"Ow! What the hell?" Booth reached up to cover his nose with a hand, only to lose his balance and sit on several broken eggs.

"Oh, shit. You're bleeding," Sweets said, holding out the handful of towels he'd managed to retrieve.

Reaching out, Booth grabbed them and pressed them to his nose. He could feel the broken eggs seeping through his pants. "Watch what you're doing." His voice sounded stuffy with the paper towels pressed to his face.

"Sorry." Sweets got to his feet. "Let me help you up so you can go change." He attempted to step forward to help Booth, only to slip on the debris from his failed attempt to make cookies. His feet flew into the air, and Sweets landed on his back, his breath leaving him in a loud whoosh.

Booth snorted a laugh, and groaned when it irritated his already injured nose. Sweets rolled around on the floor, hands over his stomach, trying to remember how to breath again.

That was how Bones found them. Two grown men, sitting in a pile of broken eggs and flour, alternating between laughter and exclamations of pain.

With dainty steps, she made her way toward them, managing to avoid both the eggs and the flour. Booth met her eyes and shrugged, the bloody paper towels still held to his face.

As Booth had done, she considered all her options, but chose the wiser of them. Something she would remind Booth of several times over the next couple of days.

"I'll be upstairs changing," she said, pointing in that general direction. "I believe it will take at least an hour. Make sure all of this is cleaned up by then."

With a little grin, she grabbed the plate of cookies from the counter. "And I think I better take these with me. I don't want you to ruin your dinner."