Chapter 11: Hardball

The time passed quickly between her talk with Angela and when Booth picked her up. She had planned on asking Booth if they could set a time for them to sit down and talk about some of the fears she was dealing with, but couldn't when he showed up with Parker. As promised, Booth and Parker took her back home and returned a little over an hour later for her. This time, Parker was dressed in his baseball uniform and ready to fill her in on all of the pertinent aspects of the game.

"So there's no time limit like in hockey?" she queried him.

"Nope," Parker confirmed. "In the Majors they play nine innings but we just play six."

"And you are the pitcher?" she made sure she was using the correct term.

"Yup, it's my job to strike the other team out," he grinned.

Parker went on to explain that it was his turn to be the team's starting pitcher for this game and assured her that it was going to be an "awesome" game. When they arrived, Booth explained that the boys- especially Parker- needed to go through a series of warm up exercises before the game so that they wouldn't hurt themselves. He helped her pick out a good seat in the bleachers then went to play catch with some of the boys.

Finally, it was time for the game to start and Booth rejoined her among the other parents. Parker's team was the first to be on defense, which Booth explained would give them the advantage at the end of the game when they were the last to bat. He spent the next two hours coaching her on the nuances of the game and cuing her in on the appropriate times to cheer.

Even more fascinating than the game itself for her, were the interactions within the teams themselves. It was clear from the onset of the game that Parker's was the more disciplined team. They played as a single unit, where the other team acted as nine individuals. She also observed that Parker's coach was firm, but accepting of the pre-adolescents' shortcomings in certain areas, whereas the other coach was surly at times and rather brusque.

It was no surprise to her, then, when Parker's team emerged victorious and she stood to her feet with Booth and applauded them as they exited the field.

"Did you see us, Bones? Did ya?" Parker came bounding over to where they stood. "We won!"

"It was a well-played game," she smiled. "And your pitching was excellent."

"I coulda gone longer," he boasted, referring to the fact that he was moved to first base after the third inning.

"Yeah, well, it's good to let the other guys play too," Booth gently chided him, putting an arm around Parker and linking hands with Brennan as they walked to the SUV.

"I guess," Parker shrugged out of the embrace, but stayed close by.

The mood in the car was decidedly buoyant as the two Booths recounted and analyzed the game from start to finish. It was clear Booth was very proud of his son's performance, and especially his fastball.

"Dad," Parker leaned forward in his seat so that he was as close to the front as he could get, "are you going back to be a soldier?"

Booth gripped the wheel tightly, looking from Parker, to Brennan, and finally back at Parker through the rear-view mirror, "Why are you asking me that?"

Parker explained that the Army had called Rebecca's house looking for Booth and Parker had concluded what they wanted. Booth explained that he wasn't in the Army anymore and that he had chosen to be in the FBI for Parker's sake so that he could help raise his son.

"So," the boy looked slightly crestfallen, "it's my fault?"

"Is what your fault?" Booth asked, surprised.

"It's my fault people are going to die," he answered matter-of-factly.

"No!" Booth was adamant, "That's- that's not what I meant."

"I want you to save lives," there was a pleading note in Parker's voice.

"Yeah, well I do that here."

"No," Parker insisted, "here you catch people that kill other people. There, you could make it so people won't die." He paused for a moment before continuing, "Isn't that better?"

Booth looked to Brennan for support and was about to brush off the topic altogether with a promise of root beer floats when she spoke up.

"Your logic is flawed, Parker, however noble," she said gently. "By apprehending criminals who have killed we are ensuring that they will not kill anyone else. Your father and I have both played essential roles in several serial killer cases over the years and to say that what the Army has asked of him is more valuable is to devalue the work he does here."

"So staying with the FBI is better?" Parker wanted to know.

"The term 'better' is a relative one, Parker," she attempted to explain. "A thing's value is assigned by different people in different ways. For instance your good pitching was very valuable to your teammates, but at the same time it was not of any value to the other team.

"What your father and I do is very important to the families we aid, as well as any potential future victims the killer might have selected," she was speaking as much to her own conundrum as she was to Parker.

"The job that your father would do for the Army should he accept would be equally valuable to the soldiers' families that he would help to save, as well as to any intended victims of the insurgents that they brought down. But whether your father stays or goes," she met the boy's eyes to make sure he understood, "you are in no way responsible for the consequences of his decision. Do you understand that?"

"I think so," Parker nodded slowly. "You mean it's not my fault if people die?"

"Precisely," Brennan smiled, proud of him for following her reasoning and relieved that he would no longer carry that unnecessary burden.

"Thanks, Bones," Booth said softly, then cleared his throat. "Now, the real question is are you two ready for some huge, giant root beer floats?"

"Yeah!" Parker crowed from the back, sticking his fist out as far as he could for Booth to bump it.

"Bones?" Booth asked, father and son looking at her expectantly.

"Yeah," she nodded with a smile of her own and bumping both of their fists in return. "Though you realize that the words 'huge' and 'giant' are virtually synonymous?"

B&B&B&B&B&B

Parker was well on his way to a sugar high from the soda and ice cream, and was stuffing himself with fries on top of that when Booth's cell rang. One look at the caller ID and he excused himself from the table and headed outside to take the call.

"Hey, Parks," he said when he came back it, "why don't you go clean yourself up so Mom doesn't kill me for bringing you home all sticky?"

Brennan waited until Parker went into the bathroom to ask, "What's wrong? Who was that?"

"Eh," he plopped down in the seat beside her, "that was Cullen. I've gotta go back into the office for a meeting with some of the bigwigs. It's nothing bad, but it means we need to get going so I can change back into my suit beforehand."

"I can take Parker back to Rebecca's," she offered. "That would save you some time."

"That'd be great except I drove you here so you don't have a car," he pointed out.

"We can take a cab, Booth," she told him.

"A cab?" Parker was out of the bathroom and back at the table, looking excited. "Aw, please, Dad, that would be awesome?"

The look in both of their eyes told Booth he would be fighting a losing battle if he refused so he relented with a stern warning for Parker to listen to exactly what Brennan told him to do. He then called Rebecca and told her what had come up and what the new plan was.

Brennan beat him to the punch when it came to calling the cab, but he made sure that the guy knew exactly where he was taking them.

"We'll be fine," she assured him as Parker threw him a wave and climbed eagerly into the backseat. "I'll text you as soon as he's home."

"Thanks," he smiled, then pulled her in for a quick hug and a kiss near her ear where he whispered, "I love you."

Her eyes lit up at that and her cheeks glowed red and she nodded, giving him a shy smile as she backed into the cab. He closed the door gently behind her and stood on the curb, watching as the two most important people in his life drove away.

Once they were out of sight he double-timed it back to the SUV and headed home to change. He'd just snapped his cocky belt-buckle in place when the text came through.

Parker's safe. Headed to my apartment.

Thanks, he sent back, sorry I had to leave like that.

Not your fault. How late will your meeting run?

Not sure. Could be a late one.

Okay.

He wanted to talk longer, but he had to get going, so he said a quick goodbye, scooped everything he needed back into his pockets, and headed out. Fortunately, the lights and traffic were on his side tonight and he made it with plenty of time to spare.

The meeting was long enough and between it, and the Army's letter, and Parker's concerns from earlier, he left it feeling like he was drowning in choices; unsure which decision was the right one. So instead of going home he went to his office, trying to clear his head.

From the bottom drawer he took out two things. The first was his collection of pictures and newspaper clippings of he and Bones throughout the years. His lips curved up at the one of them outside of her dad's trial, holding up their coffee cups and smiling as if nothing was wrong. He held the picture of her that he'd taken out just this morning, tracing the curve of her jaw and feeling like he was one of the luckiest guys around now that she'd accepted his love and loved him in return.

Setting the open file with her pictures aside, he stared long and hard at the book in front of him, tracing its cover several times before he slowly opened it. Years ago, one of the wives of a guy in his unit had collected tons of pictures, including candids, made lots of copies, and put them all in a neat little scrapbook for all of the guys and their families- even the ones who hadn't made it back. It had quickly become one of Booth's most valued possessions and he kept it close to him at work on those days he needed extra motivation.

Tonight, he was hoping it would give him some kind of direction. Partway through, Hodgins called, letting him know that he'd found a bunch of financial records and suggesting that maybe something work related had triggered the hoarding. Ever the conspiracy theorist, the bug man had mused that one never knew about the secret lives people hid in their past. Teddy's smiling face looked back at Booth from the page and he decided this was not the conversation he needed to get into tonight, and he hung up.

He was still staring at Teddy and his younger self a few moments later when there was a knock on his door. Sighing heavily and wondering if he would ever catch a break he was about to invite whoever it was in, when the door opened.

"Hey," Bones smiled, shutting the door behind her to preserve their privacy as she walked around to his side of the desk and perched on it, just in front of him. "How did your meeting go?"

He shrugged, not sure how to explain everything to her, and was eternally grateful when she changed the subject to the pictures on his desk. She remembered Teddy from when he'd shown her a picture after his narrow escape from the Grave Digger, though instead of focusing on the dead man, she commented that he would probably be proud of the boy who shared his name.

Slowly, they worked their way through the rest of the album, with Bones listening quietly as Booth shared some of the lighter anecdotes he had from those days. When he moved to start putting things away she caught sight of the file full of their pictures and teased him lightly about being a sentimental tough guy. She also noticed the framed picture of the two of them up with Parker's and said it looked just right.

"Bones," he said, spanning her waist with her hands as he stood up, "we should talk. There's so much-"

"Shh," she laid a finger on his lips and shook her head. "Tomorrow, not tonight. It's time to go home."

"But we-"

"I want to go home with you tonight, Booth," she spoke in a voice that was barely above a whisper and the hand that was not up by his lips reached forward to brush his belt buckle suggestively. "Take me home and make love to me."

That night, not a word was spoken about the Rangers, or the Maluku islands, or the decisions that they both had to make and the impact it could have on their partnership. Instead there were murmurs of trust, and respect, and a love five years in the making that lasted late into the night. And when they were spent and basking in the afterglow he wrapped them up in his thick, warm covers, and fell asleep the happiest he'd ever been in his life.