(Sometime in the future)
Thank you for reviewing my story. I appreciate it.
A/N: These stories aren't going to be told in a straight timeline.
I definitely don't own Bones.
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Christine marched into the house, closed the front door firmly behind her, removed her gloves and jammed them into her coat pockets. Her eyes filled with ire, she moved down the hallway and knocked on the bedroom door of her parents. "Mom . . . Dad . . . I need you to see something."
After a few seconds, she heard her father's sleepy voice. "Can't it wait until tomorrow Honey?"
Her arms crossed against her breasts, Christine glared at the door. "Sure, whatever." Exhaling deeply, she turned and marched down the hallway and slammed her bedroom door after she was in the room.
The sound reverberated down the hall and Booth knew his daughter was angry. With a groan, he rolled away from Brennan and opened his eyes. "Your daughter is in a snit about something."
Refusing to open her eyes, Brennan pulled her blanket tighter around her shoulders. "Shh, I'm sleeping."
Booth glanced at the clock on the nightstand and sat up. "It's 1:20. She's late getting home from her date." Booth sat on the edge of their bed, reached down to the floor for his boxers, slipped them on, standing to finish the job. "Your daughter came home an hour and twenty minutes past curfew, Bones."
"Shhhh, I told you I'm sleeping." Brennan didn't think an hour and a few minutes late was worth getting upset over.
Annoyed, Booth grabbed his robe, pulled it on and glared at Brennan. "Okay, fine. I'll take care of this." He continued to stare at his wife, but after a few minutes he realized she wasn't going to react at all. "Fine."
"Shhhhhhhhhh."
After he opened his bedroom door, Booth walked down the hallway to his daughter's room and paused momentarily outside her room to brace himself. Rolling his shoulders, he raised up his hand and knocked. "Christine, I'm coming in." He didn't hear any protests so assumed she was decent.
Cautiously, he opened the door and stuck his head in the room. His daughter sitting on the bed glaring at him, Booth stepped into the room and placed his hands on his hips. "You're an hour twenty past curfew . . . why?"
Christine shrugged her shoulders and sighed. "Alex had a flat tire. He had to stop and change it and it took a while. It was the first tire he'd ever changed. He had to call his Dad for instructions."
Since those things were unpredictable, Booth nodded his head and moved on. "What do you want me to see that's so important that you had wake me up for?"
Her eyes flashing, Christine grabbed her coat and slipped it on. "It's outside in the front yard."
Since the front lawn was currently sitting under four inches of snow, Booth did not want to go outside. "Honey, can't this wait until tomorrow? I'd have to put on a coat and pants and boots to go out there."
She sniffed and pursed her lips. "I think it is."
Since he knew he wasn't going to go back to bed unless he mollified her, he left her room and went back to his bedroom. After he removed his robe, he removed his pants from the chair next to the bathroom where he'd left them earlier that evening and put them on. Grabbing his boots, he glared at Brennan and dropped them on floor on purpose. When her reaction was to turn over and face the other way, he sighed, pulled the boots on and stood up. 'Your daughter is making me go outside in 20 plus weather just so you know that. If I get sick you have to take care of me."
Brennan raised her hand and waved it. "I promise." Once her hand was lowered she pulled her blanket tighter around her. "Wear a coat."
His eyes mere slits, Booth clenched his jaw, grabbed his coat from the closet and shrugged it on. That done, he left the bedroom and found his daughter standing at the front door waiting for him. "Okay, let's get this over with."
As she pulled door open, Christine flipped on the porch light and stepped outside. The cold wind hitting Booth as he stepped outside, he shivered as he closed the front door behind him and jammed his hands into his coat pockets. "What do you want me to see?"
Christine moved across the driveway and into the front lawn. Sweeping her hand around, the young woman shouted out. "Just look at what he did. Just look, Dad."
Not sure what he was seeing, Booth moved across the driveway and over to where his daughter was standing. There was a medium sized snow man standing in the yard wearing a pink Chain Smoker's concert t-shirt. Surrounding the snow man was a circle of tiny snow men, all holding little signs in their twig hands. Curious, Booth leaned down, plucked one of the signs up and read it in the faint light from the porch light. Smoking makes your teeth green.
The situation was too funny for Booth and he laughed. Furious, Christine gestured at the snowman. "That is my vintage concert t-shirt. I paid a lot of money for that shirt and look at it . . . and . . . and those signs. Really Dad, Hank has gone too far."
Booth shook his head and placed the sign back where he'd got it. "Come on Honey. This is funny and a little snow isn't going to ruin the shirt . . . if it does he can pay for it from his allowance."
"Unbelievable." The seventeen year old threw her hands up in the air. "This is just unbelievable. You let him get away with far too much Father."
"Father?" Booth moved back across the yard with his daughter following him. "I let him get away with too much huh?" Booth opened the door, waited for his daughter to enter the house, closed and locked the door. "Who came home 1 hour and twenty minutes late tonight? Did you see me make a big deal about it? No you didn't. Hank is twelve years old and he's smart. Probably too smart for his own good, but smart. He shouldn't have borrowed your shirt and I'm going talk to him about it in the morning, but you young lady have a phone and you could have called me and let me and your Mom know you were going to be late."
"This isn't about me." Christine pulled her coat off. "I told you Alex had a flat tire."
Booth poked his tongue in his cheek and stared at his daughter for a few seconds. "It doesn't take over an hour to change a tire, young lady. "I may be getting old, but I'm not senile yet. I think I may let both you and Hank get away with too much. I may make some changes around here . . . yeah, I may do that." Booth turned and stomped down the hallway to his bedroom. Before he entered the room, he paused and looked back at his daughter. "You and me are going to talk about curfews tomorrow." That said he closed his door, pulled off his coat, walked over to the closet and hung it up. Next he removed his boots and pants and dropped them on the floor near the chair. That finally done, he flipped up the blanket, moved on to the bed and placed his arms around Brennan who was instantly awake.
"Booth you're cold and you're making me cold." Brennan wasn't happy with her husband. She had been warm and now she wasn't.
Uncaring Booth pulled her tighter against his body. "If you get sick I'll take care of you." Booth closed his eyes and sighed. "Our son is aggravating our daughter again."
"What did he do?" Brennan was now fully awake and curious.
Booth chuckled. "Hank borrowed one of her concert t-shirts and put it on a skinny snowman and made a few little snowmen and they're surrounding the t-shirt wearing snowman holding little signs."
Intrigued, Brennan had to ask him. "What do the signs say?"
Just to irritate her, Booth refused to say. "Nope. You didn't go look, so I'm not saying. You can see them in the morning."
"Are they insensitive?" Brennan now wished she had gone with Booth earlier.
Booth thought about it and responded. "Nah . . . well, maybe. I only read one of them. It wasn't too bad, but they are a jab against his sister. I'm going to have to take some pictures though."
"As evidence?" Brennan closed her eyes and tried to relax now that Booth was warmer.
Amused, Booth snorted, "No as a keepsake. It's cute, in fact, it's pretty damn funny . . . He didn't break a law or anything. Now go to sleep . . . the next kid that wakes us up is your duty. I did mine for the night."
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