A/N: Hello, readers. With school and life getting more hectic as the semester moves on, I'm going to try to make scheduled posting happen. Sunday and Wednesday nights (US time) are going to be my goals and hopefully, I can make this happen. This starts the Sunday updates. Enjoy :)
"He's fine, Booth. He can't actually see over the exam table unless I lift him," she rationalized.
"He's gonna form weird memories about Mommy and dead things," Booth muttered and she couldn't tell if he was joking or not. Deciding to ignore his statement she asked, "What do you need? I'm in the process of learning to work with an assistant and I find it quite difficult despite the need for more help around the lab."
"We need to talk."
"This does not sound good," Jack said as he walked onto the platform.
"Let's go to my office. Mister Addy, please continue with your assessment of the remains. Doctor Hodgins will be glad to answer any questions you might have."
"I will?" Jack asked, obviously unhappy to be left alone with the new kid.
Brennan and Drew followed Booth as he walked briskly to her office.
"Are you in a hurry?" she asked him.
"Could you, uh, take Drew to Angela's office?"
Brennan shook her head. "She's leaving soon," Bren explained, "She's going to our place to pick up activities for Drew to do and a few sets of clothes."
"Oh, well, I don't think Drew should be looking at crime scene pictures."
She rolled her eyes. "He's too young to remember this, Booth. His second birthday is rapidly approaching and memories don't accurately form until much later. Besides, he seems quite preoccupied at the moment."
They both looked at Drew. He was standing next to Brennan's model skeleton. The articulated bones stood taller than a mesmerized Drew, who was holding the phalanges, swinging the articulated arm back and forth. Brennan began laughing lightly at the site, but Booth looked away, pulling out crime scene photos of the scene he just left.
"Bren, you need to take a look at this."
He laid the pictures on the small coffee table in front of the sofa. The pictures displayed a roof top, black smoke clouded the air. A body, with a face unrecognizable, hung from a pole in crucifix fashion.
"Who is this?" Brennan asked, glancing over her shoulder occasionally at her son, who was still currently fascinated with the skeleton.
"Not sure yet. But we have a lead."
"Who?"
Booth wouldn't answer, only going into details about what was found at the scene. "Body was slashed. Intestines were practically ashes. There was one…anomaly, though."
Brennan looked at him, waiting for Booth to continue.
He sighed and pulled one more photo from the file. It was a picture of an old coin.
"Columbus?" she questioned.
He nodded once, but still didn't say anything.
"I don't understand. What is so important that you had to show me? This is an FBI case. I'm sure they wouldn't be too thrilled that you were sharing case information with me, no matter how sensitive a topic."
"Bren, we found a print on the coin." Booth pulled out the sheet with matching prints. "The one on the left is from the coin. It matches the one on the right."
"Who does it belong to?"
"Your father."
She sighed. She knew what it meant, but didn't want to believe it. "Has Teddy found him? Or Russ?"
He shook his head. "Teddy's lead went cold. They're looking for more options, searching the places your dad has been in the past but I doubt they're going to show up there. Max is too smart to go back to Burtonsville or Columbus."
Brennan smirked a little, trying to relieve the stress Booth was feeling. "My father has always been quite intelligent."
Drew waddled over to his parents and pulled himself up onto the couch. Booth quickly gathered the pictures to hide from Drew's innocent eyes. Angela walked in and set a big duffle bag, filled to the point to where the zipper almost couldn't shut, next to her desk.
"I grabbed a few things for you, too, Bren," Angela told her, "I saw that bullet hole in the side of your house. This is…"
"Scary?" Booth offered.
"Nerve-wracking?" Brennan tried.
"Both," Angela finished, "I can't believe someone's trying to kill you! Do you know who did it yet?"
Her question was directed at Booth, who shook his head. "We know it came from a M40A1 sniper rifle, but we've been unlucky with the trace so far. It was a homemade bullet that was supposed to…" Kill my wife, he finished his sentence in his head.
"Maybe you should stay with me and Jack. We can get a little crib set up for Drew and you two can stay in one of the guest rooms," Angela suggested.
"I don't know," Brennan said, hesitantly.
"I'm thinking maybe you and Drew should go stay with Pops. Or maybe with Lizzie," Booth told her, "I don't know if I want you two staying in D.C. until we find whoever is doing this. Philly isn't that far and I can come up there real quick if I need to."
"I understand your concern but Drew and I are fine here."
"Bren, you and Drew can't sleep in your office forever. Doctor Goodman will understand. Take some time off and go to Philadelphia. Get away from all of this. Hopefully, whoever is after you won't follow," Angela said.
She knew they weren't going to let up. So she agreed, "Alright. I'll give Hank a call. It's been too long since Drew's seen him anyway."
Twenty minutes later, Booth was buckling Drew into his car seat in the back of Brennan's car. He placed a kiss on his son's forehead and said, "Be good for Mom and Pops, okay? I'll see you soon. I love you, bub."
The toddler understood a goodbye when he heard one and Drew wasn't ready to part from his dad just yet. His small cries and whimpers filled the car as Booth shut the car door.
"Be careful, okay? Call me as soon as you get to Pops'."
Brennan nodded. "I will." Drew's cries got louder and Brennan tried to get into the car. Booth stopped her.
"I love you."
"I love you too," she mumbled into his chest as he hugged her. She didn't want to let go and their hug lingered for a while. He kissed her, strong and hard.
Booth pulled away reluctantly. "I'll try to come up to Philly tonight."
She nodded and got in the car. Booth watched them back out of her parking space. He stopped them one last time, rapping one knuckle on the driver's side window. Brennan rolled down the window and waited for him to say something. "I love you," he said again.
Bren smiled softly at him. "I love you too. Be careful."
"You be careful," he told her. He watched her wave goodbye and say something to Drew who stared at him out the window and cried. His tiny hand waved goodbye and he stared after them as they drove off.
"Alright, Seeley, back to work," he told himself when he couldn't see her car anymore.
Booth didn't want to work though. He wanted to get in his car and follow them up to Philly. He wanted to spend time with his family and let the other agents find who was trying to hurt them. I wanted to spend as much time with them as possible. But he knew he had to protect them. That was the only thing he could do for them. Sitting around his grandfather's house wouldn't solve anything and it certainly wouldn't find her father, brother or whoever was trying to hurt them. He slid into the driver's seat of his car and drove back to the Hoover building. He was visibly grumpy to the other agents and all avoided him if all possible. Sitting as his desk flipping through the files again, he stared at any and all connections that he could see. He knew something was missing. Booth had an idea, though. If someone in the D.C. office worked the bank heists, he would need to talk to them. Talking to the agents in the field offices in Illinois and Ohio had gotten him only so far. Higher ups would know more. He began tracking down the list of agents who had worked the Columbus and Fremont cases and found one agent who still worked at the bureau. He spoke with her, saying she didn't remember or know much, but she could give him a list of other agents back then that worked the case. She sent the list to him and one name stood out. Deputy Director Robert Kirby.
"BOOTH!" He heard his name from the one person who might have it out for Max Keenan.
"Yes, sir?"
"Get your ass to my office. Now!" Director Kirby shouted. Other agents in the bullpen followed him with their eyes as he straightened his tie and walked with as much confidence he could muster to face the only suspect he had in his wife's attempted shooting. Only problem was that Booth was on the wrong side of the interrogation table.