Thank you for reviewing my story. I appreciate it.
I really don't own Bones.
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Standing next to his truck, Booth was checking his phone for emails when he heard the bell ring and children started pouring out of the school. Placing his phone in his jacket pocket, he methodically scanned the mob of children for his daughter. Finally spying her, he smiled until he noticed her stooped shoulders and the slow way she was walking. Worried his smiled quickly turned into a frown.
Christine walking slowly through the crowd slowly descended the steps to the sidewalk and then over to the truck where her father anxiously waited for her. Spying him leaning against the truck, she slowly made her way to where he was standing. Finally standing in front of him, she wiped her eyes with her right hand and sniffed, "Hi, Daddy."
Alarmed, Booth knelt on the ground and placed his hands on her shoulders, "Honey, what's going on?"
Tears trailing down her cheeks, Christine wailed and threw her arms around her father's neck.
Suddenly afraid for his daughter, Booth stood up with his daughter in his arms, "Honey what's wrong? Are you hurt? You need to tell Daddy what's going on."
Sobbing, her heart broken, Christine clung to her father and sobbed, "Mommy is going to hate me."
Her sobs louder, Booth turned and opened the passenger door on the truck. Placing his daughter on the seat, he patted her leg, "Christine, you need to tell me what's going on. Why do you think your mother is going to hate you?"
Releasing him, the child squirmed her backpack off of her shoulders and pulled it around onto her lap. Sniffing, she rubbed the end of her nose and rummaged around in her bag until she found what she was looking for. Pulling a paper out of her backpack, she slowly held it out to her father, "I tried, Daddy. I really did, but I'm stupid and I didn't understand I guess. Mommy is going to be so disappointed in me and . . . and I'm sorry."
Puzzled, Booth took the paper from her hand and stared at the bold red B- written on the top of the paper. "I don't understand Honey."
Wiping her eyes again, Christine pulled the top of the paper down so she could see the red B-. "I really tried Daddy, but the teacher told me that I didn't do the assignment right. She said it was written well, but I didn't write what she had told me to write. I did Daddy, I wrote what she told me to but she said that I didn't, so she had to give me a B-. Mommy never got a B or B- when she went to school and now I got one and she's going to hate me."
Hugging her, Booth assured her, "Baby, just because Mommy never got a B doesn't mean you aren't allowed to get one. She's not going to hate you. Come on, I was mostly a B student when I went to school and Mommy doesn't hate me."
Tears still rolling down her cheeks, Christine shook her head, "I always get A's Daddy. I always get A's not B's. Ms. Bennett gave me a B- because she said I didn't do my assignment right, but I did, Daddy, I really did."
Using his thumb to wipe away some of her tears, Booth kissed her cheek, "Tell me what the assignment was, Sweetheart."
Her eyes moving to the paper Booth still clutched in his hand, Christine sniffed mightily, "We're studying Hamlet and how his life was a tragedy and Ms. Bennett wanted us to think of something sad that has happened in our lives and write about it. She thought it would make us more sympathetic towards Hamlet."
Glancing down at the paper, Booth shook his head, "You're only twelve, what in the world was that woman thinking? Hamlet is too violent for kids to read."
Shrugging her shoulders, Christine replied, "It's Shakespeare Daddy. We started to study Shakespeare last year. Ms. Bennett told me that she wanted a paper written about real experiences not a work of fiction and that's what I did."
Retrieving a pack of tissues from the glove box, Booth handed it to his daughter, "Here Christine, let me read it and you stop crying. Let me figure out what's going on."
Her eyes never leaving her father's face as he read the paper, she noticed first the sadness that seemed to settle on him and then a flash of anger. "It's the truth Daddy. I didn't make it up."
Folding the paper, Booth placed it in his jacket pocket and smiled rather grimly at his daughter, "No, what you wrote isn't fiction. I think I'm going to have a little talk with Ms. Bennett. Do you know if she's still in the school?"
Nodding her head, Christine frowned, "Yes Sir, I think so."
Pulling his daughter out of the truck, he closed the door, took her hand in his and walked over to the front steps. Christine, worried about her father's temper, tried to calm him down, "Daddy, it's just a B-, maybe we should just forget about it."
His thought's elsewhere, Booth continued up the steps and into the school.
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Rapping on the door frame to the classroom, Booth stared at the young woman sitting at her desk, grading a stack of papers in front her, "Ms. Bennett?"
Startled, the young teacher looked up and asked, "Yes, may I help you?"
Entering the room with his daughter in tow, Booth stopped just inside the door, "My name is Seeley Booth. My daughter told me that you assigned her to write a story about something sad that has happened in her life and that you gave her B- because you thought she'd written a story of fiction."
A little concerned at the Booth's tone of voice, Alicia Bennett stood up and stepped away from her desk, "It was just a misunderstanding Mr. Booth. She still got a B-."
Releasing his daughter's hand, Booth pulled the paper out of his jacket pocket and placed it on the desk, stepping back so that the young woman wouldn't feel intimidated, he informed her, "I read it and it's not fiction. Those things really happened."
A little shocked, Alicia shook her head, "But . . . but you're an FBI agent. You're an Assistant Deputy Director, this . . . this story seemed to be over the top, like a story."
Shrugging his shoulders, Booth assured her, "It's too complicated to get into. Let me just say that what she wrote is the truth and I'd appreciate the next time you ask her to write up an assignment, that you not call her a liar. Her life has been complicated since the day she was born and believe me this story she wrote is just a drop in the bucket. My daughter is a truthful child and when she told you that it wasn't fiction then that should have been good enough."
Her gaze moving to the child, Alicia frowned, "I'm sorry, Christine. Almost everyone who turned in the assignment wrote about pets dying or a grandparent passing away. You have to admit that the story you wrote seemed to be . . . well, um, outside the box."
Her gaze moving to the paper on the desk, Christine asked, "So you'll give me an A now?"
Stepping over to the desk, Alicia picked up her pen, marked through the B- and replaced it with an A. Handing the paper to the child, Alicia smiled, "I'm sorry, Christine. Even adults make mistakes."
Pleased with the new grade, the young preteen smiled, "Thank you Ms. Bennett. . . Come on Daddy, we need to go get Mom and Hank."
Giving the teacher a slight bow, Booth smiled, "You're young, Ms. Bennett. You'll learn that not everyone has a Brady Bunch life."
Blushing, Alicia nodded her head, "Yes, I can see that."
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Driving over to the Jeffersonian, Booth cleared his throat and advised his daughter, "Honey, maybe from now on, when one of your teachers asks you to write about family stuff, maybe you should pick more normal stuff. You know . . . don't mention me going to prison or your Uncle Sweets being murdered. That kind of stuff does sound a little unbelievable. You might not want to write about when your mother ran away from a serial killer and took you with her either. That stuff sounds like a movie and not real life. Do you understand?"
Shaking her head, Christine complained, "But that's all part of my life, you don't want me to forget about it do you?"
His hand reaching out and patting her knee, Booth replied, "No, Honey of course not. It's just that our family is not average and the stuff that has happened to us . . . well, it should probably just stay in the family. Your mother is a famous author and people are always looking for juicy gossip to spread about her or her family on the internet . . . well, it would be better if you didn't give them any ammunition. . . . Um, the stuff you wrote about was in the news, so a lot of people know about it, but well . . . every family has secrets. Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you? Some things should stay in the family. If you're not sure about something you want to write about, run it by me or Mom."
Nodding her head, Christine smile, "Sure Daddy, I get it. . . . At least I didn't get a B-. Boy, Mommy would have been really mad."
"No Honey, she wouldn't have been." Signaling a left at the next light, Booth assured her, "She only expects you to do your best. If your best is a B- then that's alright. She never got a B, but that's her. If you ever get a B in the future then she'll accept it because she loves you and she'll know that you tried. That's all she expects from you, that you try. That's all I expect too."
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So let me know what you think of my story. Thank you.
