The next week, for Booth, was hectic and slow at the same time. It was hectic because there were boxes to pack, details to smooth out, plus the kids still had to be carted back and forth to school and helped with their homework. It was slow, because Booth's ribs were still healing, and because he wanted to be cleared for work on Monday, he basically just sat around and watched all of the activity happen around him.

The move itself went smoothly. Booth was shocked to see the trucks roll in right at nine, and by ten they were on the road. Fortunately, Beltway traffic was light and they managed to make it back to DC by lunchtime. Parker begged to go to the diner before he had to go home to Rebecca, and after a quick phone call it was decided that Rebecca would meet them at the diner and eat with them.

Booth found a parking spot nearby, and the hungry crew piled out of the car and into the diner. Parker led the way to their usual table, though when they got there they realized that they would need two tables to fit everybody in. Booth took Joey and Parker with him at one table, while the girls all sat at the other one.

"Dr. Brennan! Agent Booth!" Marie, their regular waitress greeted them, "I haven't seen you two in forever! And who are these beautiful guests you've brought with you?" she winked at the kids.

"Marie," Booth grinned, "I'd like you to meet Maddie, Joey, and Sadie Lane-"

"Agent Boof is our Daddy now," Joey interrupted, his face beaming with joy, "And Dr. Bones is our Mommy."

"Wow, you two have been busy," Marie looked surprised, but managed a smile for each of the kids, "It's a pleasure meeting all of you and when you decide what you want to eat, you just let me know, all right?" Heads bobbed at both tables as the waitress continued, "Now, Parker, honey, do you want your usual, or would you like something special today?"

"My usual," Parker giggled, "But I want a chocolate milkshake to go with it, please."

Marie nodded, snapping her gum as she took orders from everyone else. Just as she had finished, Rebecca came to join them and added her order to the growing list. Parker hugged his mom tightly and insisted that she join him at his table. He then plopped himself on Rebecca's lap and proceeded to give her a rundown of all that had taken place over the past two months.

Rebecca nodded, taking in every word that Parker said as she ran her fingers idly through his curls, though she looked as if she was just glad that he was back whole and healthy. Parker introduced her to each of the Lane kids as his new siblings and gleefully told her that Dr. Bones was his new step-mom. Rebecca took it all in stride, shaking hands with the two older kids and patting little Sadie's head. She and Bones shared a smile when Parker started describing the wedding.

The meal was a loud, messy event, but the kids had fun and the adults got to catch up with one another. By the end, everyone was full and ready to go home. When it was time to leave, Parker gave both Booth and Bones huge hugs. Rebecca promised him that he would see them soon and Bones offered to let him help her get Sadie and Joey in their car seats before he left. He jumped at the opportunity and Bones herded him, along with the other three, out of the diner and toward the car.

"Seeley," Rebecca put her hand on Booth's arm as they started for the exit too, "Thank you for taking care of him."

Booth nodded, and they shared a smile watching as Parker and Bones put the kids in the car and got Parker's suitcase out of the trunk.

"You've got a beautiful family, there," Rebecca told him.

"Parker won't get lost in the shuffle," he said immediately.

"I know," Becca said confidently before turning to face him, "I'm happy for you, Seeley."

"Thanks," he smiled, though inwardly he was heaving a sigh of relief that there was no lingering jealousy to deal with.

"She's perfect for you," Becca nodded at Bones, who had gotten everyone buckled in, had arranged Parker's things neatly piled on the sidewalk, and was giving him a hug, "And she's good for Parker too."

With that, Rebecca left, moving over to help Parker gather his stuff and take it over to her car. Once he was sure she had everything under control, he gave Parker one last hug and bid them both good bye, though he couldn't tear his eyes off of his son until they had pulled safely away and were out of sight.

"Are you alright?" Bones came up and stood beside him, looking concerned.

"I'm fine," he assured her as they headed toward the car, "Now, let's go home."

The rest of the afternoon was busy. No sooner had they gotten everyone into the townhouse and settled then Cullen called, informing Booth that he had an afternoon appointment with a local physician to officially clear him for duty on Monday. Bones assured him that she would be fine with the kids and he promised to bring home take out for dinner.

Thanks to rush hour traffic, it was six before Booth got back home, but no one seemed to mind too much once he pulled out the food. He'd gotten a pizza for the kids and Thai food for him and Bones. The table was crowded, but the food was good and he was pleased to see the kids adapting so quickly. Not long after dinner the adults announced it was time for bed. Weary from the trip and all of the day's activities, the kids barely put up a fight and were in bed in no time.

"I take it you were cleared for duty?" Bones asked, as they lay in bed later that night.

"Yup," Booth affirmed, "I have to take it easy, and it'll still be a few more weeks before I'm cleared for the field, but everything's healing like it should so I can go back to work."

"Good," she smiled.

"When are you heading back to the Jeffersonian?" he asked.

She frowned, "Cam told me to take as much time as I need, and it would be much easier if I wait until after Maddie and Joey are at their new school as one of us will need to remain home with them."

"Yeah," Booth agreed, "Cullen said the school does have two openings right now, so we can take them up any time after tomorrow."

"Sunday or Monday?" she asked.

Booth sighed heavily, "We should probably go on Sunday. I know it'll be a lot of traveling for them, but the longer they stay here the harder it'll be for them to leave."

"Yes," she said a hint of sadness in her voice.

He held her close and rubbed her back. This wasn't going to be easy on any of them. They turned off the lights and went to sleep.

Saturday was a flurry of activity, as moving boxes were unpacked and Maddie and Joey's clothes were repacked into suitcases for them to take with them to school. None of the kids were happy about the news that they would be leaving so soon, but Bones assured them that Thanksgiving wasn't too far off and then they could come back again. Booth called the school and made arrangements to meet with each of the house parents the next day. Cullen personally brought over the guardianship papers for the Booths to sign, along with all of the paperwork that had to be filled out for the school.

All too quickly, it was Sunday morning and time to leave. The three hour car ride was very subdued compared to the trip to DC, but the couple tried to encourage Maddie and Joey as much as they could. Both sets of house parents were waiting for them when they arrived and immediately Booth knew that the kids would be in good hands. There were hugs and tears all around, but by the time they left, the kids seemed to be comfortable with their new house parents, and excited with what they had been told about the school.

It was close to midnight when they pulled back into the townhouse's driveway. Booth carried a sleeping Sadie up the stairs to her room, and was relieved when she didn't stir at all. He kissed her forehead softly and crept out of the room.

"Cullen left a message on the machine," Bones informed him as they readied for bed, "He wanted to confirm that Graft will be at the Hoover for you to interrogate tomorrow afternoon."

"Good," Booth said, despite his fatigue, "I'm ready to nail him to the wall."

"I would like to be there as well," she told him in a voice that said she'd be there no matter what his opinion was.

"Then let's get some sleep," he smiled, "It's gonna be a long day tomorrow."

By seven-thirty the next morning, Booth, Bones, and Sadie were up, dressed, fed, and on their way to the Hoover Building. Dropping Sadie off at the on-site daycare was a lot harder than Booth thought it would be. Sadie clung to Bones like a barnacle, and it took both of them to pry her off and hand her over. Fortunately, Anita- the grandmotherly woman who ran the program- was not phased at all by Sadie's cries and promised to call the couple once the little girl had calmed down so they wouldn't spend all morning worrying about her.

They were just stepping out of the elevator on their way to Booth's office when the call came, and Anita assured them that Sadie was calm and playing happily with some of the other children. Beside him, Bones sagged in relief just the slightest bit and he squeezed her hand in encouragement.

As they walked back to his office, his coworkers greeted them with smiles, offering congratulations on both their marriage, and cracking the case. There were a few whose smiles weren't quite as genuine, but he figured those were the ones who had lost money in the office pool. He prayed fervently that no one would bring that up while Bones was in the building; though he was willing to bet money that the Jeffersonian had had a similar pool too. Finally, they reached his office and he closed the door to a series of raised eyebrows and suggestive looks.

"Seeley," Bones looked at him as he collapsed in his office chair, "Why were your colleagues sticking their thumbs up at you and leering as you closed the door? Do they truly believe we are going to have inter-"

He stopped her with an upheld hand before she could finish the question, "First, um, no, though they might think that we're going to make out or something, you never know. Second, they were giving us a 'thumbs-up' not the finger."

"It's still rather juvenile," she said with a roll of her eyes, "In the Middle East, West Africa, South America, Sardinia, Greece and Iran, inverting one's thumb is the foulest of their hand gestures and roughly translates to our use of the phrase 'Up yours.' In Shakespeare's England, biting one's thumb was also comparable to raising the middle finger here in America. The Chinese use the pinky finger."

"I'll make travel notes," Booth grinned, shaking his head in amusement.

"Perhaps it would be best if we kept your office door open so that our behavior does not appear unprofessional," she suggested.

"Up to you, Bones," he shrugged, "We've got a lot to go over this morning, though, and I'd like to be able to work without interruptions."

"I believe I would be more comfortable with it open," she said, a concerned look on her face, "If we are to maintain our credibility it would be best to conduct ourselves in the most professional manner possible."

"You're my wife," he told her, getting up to open the door, "I'm pretty sure there's nothing scandalous about kissing my own wife in my own office."

"Perhaps if we did not work together, that would be true," she offered him a smile as he opened the door, "However, I am not entirely comfortable with the prospect."

"Now that," he said, coming back around to sit at his desk, "I can respect, because it's your opinion and not anybody else's being forced on us."

She smiled gratefully at him, and heaved the large file that they had compiled over the last two months up onto the desk. They spent the rest of the morning going over all of the questions they wanted to touch on during the interrogation. Occasionally, someone would pass by and wave or congratulate them, but on the whole they were left alone, and no more suggestive comments or gestures arose.

Lunch was a quick run into the diner, which they both agreed felt good to be able to do again, though Booth lamented that they didn't have time for pie. At 12:59, they stood outside the small interrogation room, prepping themselves for what was to come.

"Okay," Booth said, running his hand through his hair, "You ready for this?"

She shrugged, appearing much calmer than him, "We've done this numerous times before, Booth, and he certainly could not be any more intimidating than Howard Epps, or some of the other criminals we've interrogated."

"Right," he nodded, trying to convince himself, "So in there we're Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan?"

"I believe that's the most professional approach to take," she confirmed.

"Let's do it, then."

They shared a smile and the look in her eyes told him that she was just as determined as he was to get everything right. He took one last, deep breath, smoothed out his tie, and headed into the lion's den.

Graft was sitting at the table, his back facing them for the moment, legs splayed out in front of him as if he was lounging at the beach. His blond hair had been given a prison makeover, but Booth noticed that he still wore the same overconfident smirk that he'd had on his face when he'd cornered Booth in the hall.

"See the wife got you all patched up," Graft said as they sat down opposite him, his eyes roving hungrily up and down the scientist's body, "You ever get bored of government-issue lovin', you just give Zane a call, honey."

"Hey," Booth banged his hand on the table twice in front of the man, "Eyes up here, Graft, and if I were you, I'd show Dr. Brennan a little bit of respect."

"You gonna bust my family jewels again if I don't?" the man scoffed.

"Nah," Booth shook his head and leaned back in his chair, "I'll leave that to her, though she's been known to break wrists when properly encouraged."

Graft eyed both of them skeptically, then shrugged his shoulders, "So what can I do for the illustrious FBI this fine afternoon?"

"Got some pictures for you look at," Booth said, laying out the most grotesque shots they had from each of the three crime scenes, "Any of this ring a bell?"

"Well," Graft fingered the photo of a bloated Paul Zap the day he'd been pulled out of the Bay, "Looks like this fellow here tried to go swimming in above his depth, and these here," he tapped each of the Lane grandparents on the forehead, "Had an unfortunate hunting accident. The skel looks like it's seen better days too, though I'm sure the distinguished Dr. Brennan would know more about such things than little ol' me."

"She would," Booth nodded, then pointed back at the pictures, "Notice anything similar going on here?"

"Hmm," Graft pretended to look intently at the photos, "Is this like that game on Sesame Street, 'cause I never could guess which one didn't belong before the song was finished?"

Bones looked confused but Booth pressed forward, "Funny. Except I never said that one of them didn't belong."

"Guess I was better than I thought," Graft said, a little of the ego gone.

"Guess so," it was Booth's turn to smirk, "Now that you bring it up, though, I am seeing a common theme. Agent Zap, here, shot with his own weapon, same for the Lanes," he tapped both pictures, "Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't that the same way you went after me the last time we met?"

"With all the drugs they pumped in me that night, my memory's a little fuzzy," Graft tapped his forehead.

"Perhaps this will ameliorate it," Bones spoke up, just as they'd planned, slipping another photo onto the table.

This one was not a corpse, but rather an extremely clear view of Graft holding Booth's service pistol to the Agent's head. They had found it sifting through the security footage from Booth's office down in Lusby.

"Word of advice," Booth said, "Signature moves might seem fancy, but they give us an awful lot to work with at the trial."

"Not to mention," Bones followed his lead, "These executions were clearly performed by a left-handed killer, which you've proven you are."

"Carrying the diary pages around in your back pocket didn't help much either," Booth put in, "We've got Zap's code, Candie's handwriting, and the Lanes' fingerprints all over those pages."

Graft's face became a stone and silence fell like an anvil on the small room.

"Ya know," Booth said casually, "What I can't figure out is how a part time con-man who's got nothing on his record but some speeding tickets and a few bounced checks becomes a hit-man for a major, drug syndicate?"

"Change of scenery," the man grunted, knowing full-well that Booth had him where he wanted him.

"Better pay would've been my guess," Booth countered, "Though you'll get your change of scenery now too. Four counts of murder plus assaulting a Fed," he shook his head and clicked his tongue reprovingly, "Hope you like the prison motif 'cause that's all you'll be seein' for a long time."

"Three," the man muttered to himself.

"What was that?" Booth asked.

"These," Graft pointed to the pictures of Zap and the Lanes, "They're mine. I had nothin' to do with your skel."

Booth hid a grin at the confession, but looked up at Graft curiously, "Wanna fill in the blanks for me? 'Cause the jury's gonna want to know how she turned up dead if you didn't do it."

"Look," Graft said, the wind completely gone from his sails, "All I know, is she was gone by the time I got there. I've got her pimp's name if you want it, but that's it."

"You're a true citizen after all, Graft," Booth said, pushing the button under the table that signaled to the waiting officers that they were done, "It's been a pleasure."

"Right," the man grunted as he wrote down a name and phone number on the paper Booth provided for him.

As the waiting officers entered the room and escorted Graft out, Booth beamed at his partner.

"Well, Bones," he said as she gathered up the photos and put them back in the file, "I'd say it's time to call ourselves a pimp."

"Fine," she nodded back at him, "But you are not using my cell phone!"

"Now, Bones," he slung an arm around her shoulder as they headed back to his office, "Would I ever do something like that?"

"You would and you have," she retorted, slipping out of his grasp, "And the last time I had to explain to Goodman exactly why I was contacting prostitutes from a phone that was provided for me by the Jeffersonian."

"I'm sure Cam'll be much more understanding," he teased.

She frowned deeply, and they continued bickering about it all the way back to his office, never noticing the trail of laughter and knowing looks that they left in their wake.