Hello again. :) Thanks, as always, for the great feedback. I try to reply to as many as I can, but if I missed yours, please know how much I appreciate you taking the time to review. I also want to give a super big thank you to my beta, chosenname. She has tirelessly proofed every chapter of this story and the one before, and I really can't thank her enough. Proofing my own stuff puts me to sleep, and having her help means that I can get the chapters out faster.

Enjoy!

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Chapter 17

By the end of the following week, Booth was really beginning to think that his wife might be wise to take Sweets up on his offer to help her. Brennan seemed a little more moody and exhausted with each passing day, and Booth suspected that her stress was getting the better of her again. She'd had several discussions with Max's defense attorney, in spite of her father's insistence that she stay out of it.

Brennan was feeling conflicted about whether or not she should testify. On the one hand, it seemed like a way to show support for her father, and since she had come to terms with his past actions, she truly did want to help him. On the other hand, even the attorney could tell that she didn't believe in her father's innocence, and he strongly advised against her taking the stand for any reason. Brennan felt both frustrated and relieved by his advice, but the relief only served to make her feel guilty on top of everything else. She hated the thought that her father might be executed when she could potentially do something to save him.

Loathe though she was to admit it, Brennan knew that her emotional upheaval was affecting her physically again. Aside from the persistent fatigue, her moods were erratic, and even her co-workers took notice. As they performed a preliminary analysis on a victim whose body had been crushed by gymnasium bleachers, Brennan had a hard expression and a cool tone for both Zack and Hodgins. She didn't feel up to ignoring their teasing and joking around, and both scientists shrank a little beneath her stern gaze.

"What's going on with you?" Angela asked, having followed her off the platform and into Brennan's office.

"What do you mean?"

"You're all...pissy and moody," she shrugged. "Is everything okay? Is Booth alright?"

"Of course he is." Brennan frowned at her computer screen, not quite sure if she wanted to discuss her father's case at work. Unfortunately, Angela wasn't in a mood to just let it go.

"Well something's wrong. I don't even remember the last time you gave the boys your evil eye like that." Angela plopped down in a chair on the other side of Brennan's desk and looked at her expectantly. "So?"

"I'm just a little stressed, Angela. I don't mean to take it out on anyone. Do you think I should apologize?"

"Nah, they can take it. Besides, Cam is about to discover them doing an experiment with a skull, a raw turkey, and ambrosia salad." She grinned wickedly, and Brennan made an effort to smile back. "What's got you so worked up?"

"My dad's defense lawyer doesn't want me to testify," Brennan replied, avoiding her friend's eyes.

"Well…isn't that kind of a good thing? I mean, you think he's guilty, and you'd have to tell the truth on the stand. You testifying would probably lead to a guilty verdict."

"I know that, I just... I feel guilty and powerless. I'm just supposed to sit in the courtroom and watch my father be sentenced to die without even trying to help him? It feels wrong." Brennan sighed and rested her forehead in her palms. Her head was beginning to ache, exacerbating her fatigue. She hated feeling so weak.

"Sweetie, I'm sure it's natural to feel that way. Unfortunately, you have to trust that his lawyer knows what he's doing. It's Caroline's ex, right?" Brennan nodded, still shielding her face. If Angela didn't know better, she'd think her friend was actually crying. "He was good the last time we saw him in a courtroom."

"Ange, he lost that case."

"Yeah, but only because we kicked ass in the evidence department. There was a lot more evidence in that case than there is in your dad's. Don't give up hope, okay?"

"Hope is not really one of my strong suits," Brennan muttered, finally looking at her friend again. "I just made peace with him, and now…"

"Now you might lose him," Angela said softly, her expression full of compassion. "Look, Sweetie…this trial is going to happen no matter what. There's nothing anyone can do to stop it at this point, and it's out of your hands. The only thing you can do is let it play out."

"I know," Brennan said dejectedly.

"In the meantime, you should try to get some extra sleep. You look exhausted."

"Thanks," she retorted, rolling her eyes as she rose from her chair. "I need to get back to work."

"Alright," Angela nodded, standing up to follow her. "Oh, I almost forgot. Make sure you and Booth steer clear of the storage rooms from now on. Especially the Egyptian one." Brennan quirked a brow at the odd tangent Angela had taken. "Apparently they...um, added security cameras."

"How do you know?"

"Cam told me. Well, actually she showed me." The sight of Angela blushing was something Brennan was pretty sure she'd never seen before, and she couldn't help but grin at her friend's embarrassment.

"You and Hodgins got caught on film?"

"You don't have to look so happy about it," Angela replied, failing in her attempt at a stern demeanor.

"Well, you wanted to cheer me up," Brennan smirked. "You certainly succeeded."

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Over the next few days, Booth and Brennan worked to solve the murder of RJ Manning, a college basketball player who had been well on his way to playing in the professional leagues. The case threw the partners into the world of college basketball, and Booth couldn't help but feel a bit of nostalgia for his days as an athlete. He took an immediate liking to the police officer who had helped them at the crime scene, quickly recognizing him as a former athlete with an amazing record of his own.

Their investigation revealed not only the use of steroids by several team members, but also a predictable level of promiscuity amongst them. Manning had a steady girlfriend on the cheerleading squad, but that hadn't prevented him from becoming sexually involved with several other students as well. Unfortunately, one of them happened to be the daughter of the police officer Booth had befriended, Jack Cutler. Cutler had caught his daughter under the bleachers with Manning, and although the sight had upset him, it wasn't until his daughter ended up with an STI that the man's anger got the better of him.

When Booth and Brennan caught up with Officer Cutler, he was sitting alone on the same bleachers that had crushed Manning's remains. He was also holding a pistol. Booth immediately instructed Brennan to leave, and although it irritated her, she knew that this wasn't the moment to argue with him. Instead, she left and reentered from a doorway just behind Cutler. Booth had been trying to talk the man down, but Cutler had the revolver to his temple, poised to pull the trigger.

Thinking quickly, Brennan moved forward to reach for the gun, and she inadvertently caught her hand between the hammer and firing pin. The metal pierced through the flesh between her thumb and forefinger, causing her to gasp and wince in pain. Booth didn't relax until Cutler was in cuffs, and he watched with dismay as the officer was taken into custody.

Brennan refused to go to the ER, but she did allow Booth to fuss over cleaning and bandaging her hand. She knew that taking care of her would make him feel better. As they sat opposite one another at the diner later that evening, she could tell that he was still preoccupied. Although she would have loved to admonish him for shooing her out of the dangerous situation, it had turned out for the best.

"You're very quiet," she remarked, surreptitiously stealing a fry from his plate.

"I'm fine. How's your hand? Does it hurt?"

"A little," she shrugged. "It was worth it."

"Yeah." Booth frowned at her hand, still somewhat lost in thought. "I was like that, you know. Back then."

"Like what?" Her brow wrinkled in confusion.

"Taking advantage of girls who were only interested in me for my looks or my athleticism. Cutler lost it because Manning treated his daughter the same way he himself had treated dozens of girls when he was younger."

"What does that have to do with you? You're not like that."

"Bones… I'm one of those guys," he contradicted her, meeting her gaze with sad eyes.

"No, you aren't," she said emphatically. Brennan hated the look of defeat that outlined his features. It was the same one he'd worn when they'd had a similar conversation after the time capsule case. The team had teased him about being one of 'those guys,' but Brennan knew better. "I'm not saying that you weren't involved with anyone for the wrong reasons, but you weren't disrespectful and callous."

"How do you know?"

"Because," she said simply, "You remember a name to go with every story you've ever told me about your past. Someone like RJ Manning or Jack Cutler wouldn't remember their names, especially after so much time had passed. You're not like them. You never have been, and you never will be."

"Still…"

"No, Booth. You're a good man. I'll say it as many times as you need to hear it. To believe it. I married a good man, and you'll never convince me otherwise." Booth's expression softened as he saw the absolute honesty reflected in her eyes, and they exchanged a loving smile before sharing an equally tender kiss.

"Thanks, Bones. You have more faith in me than I deserve, but I'll never stop trying to earn it."

"There's nothing you need to do that you haven't done already, Booth. I've trusted you from the very beginning, even before I knew what an exceptional person you are."

"Likewise," he grinned. They finished their milkshakes and left cash on the table before rising from their seats. Brennan glanced at him and chuckled, reaching up to wipe his milk mustache from his upper lip. Her eyes challenged his as she sucked the sweet substance off of her finger, and she was rewarded by a tell-tale darkening of his eyes.

"Home?" she asked innocently. He nodded, never breaking eye contact.

"Quickly," he replied. "I might even use the siren."

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Brennan wasn't sleeping. On the rare occasions that she was able to doze off, her stress over Max's trial had seeped into her dreams, and she always woke feeling even more exhausted. She did her best not to wake Booth, but she knew that he suspected something was amiss. He tried to minimize her stress as much as possible during the day, but she saw no reason to make him suffer from a lack of sleep as well.

To avoid the nightmares and the endless hours of lying awake in the dark, Brennan decided to return to her old standard remedies for insomnia: work and writing. Since they were between FBI cases, she threw herself into side projects from Bone Storage and helped Zack with the evidence from the Gormogon case. He seemed to be the only person who spent even more time at the lab than she did, and it was nice to have a companion on the late nights.

In addition to extended lab hours, Brennan had also decided to flesh out some ideas for a new book. She was still uncertain about the advisability of publishing anything new, but she was desperate for a distraction from her father's upcoming trial. She had been touched by the letters Booth had given her on her birthday, and she knew that many of her fans were eager for another Kathy Reichs novel. That point had been proven by a recent email from her publisher, offering a seven-figure advance for her next book. Brennan certainly wouldn't have contemplated it simply for the money, but it would give her a plausible explanation for Booth when he inevitably asked why she'd decided to start writing again.

As her mind wandered, the lines of text on her laptop screen had blurred, but she was pulled back to awareness by the sound of her husband coming down the stairs. It was almost as though his presence in her thoughts had summoned him, and she watched as he came around the corner into the living room, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"Bones, It's two in the morning. What are you doing?"

"Couldn't sleep," she shrugged, feigning indifference. "I'm sorry if I woke you."

"You didn't," he said as he dropped onto the sofa next to her. "Just don't like waking up to an empty bed. What are you doing?" She turned the screen toward him slightly so that he could read, and his brows lifted in surprise.

"You're writing again? When did you decide to do that?" In spite of his sleepiness, he was beaming at her.

"I've been thinking about it for a while, especially after you gave me those letters. Plus, my publisher got in touch with me a few days ago. They're offering a seven-figure advance for another book."

"Seven figures?" Booth sputtered, fully awake now. "Holy shit. Exactly how much are you talking? Not that we need it, but… Damn."

"A little over a million. In fact the accountant wants us to open an offshore account for tax purposes, but that feels… strange. Dishonest, maybe. I have no problem paying taxes appropriately."

"Wow," Booth sighed, dazed. Wealth was never something to which either of them had aspired, but it was nice to have one less thing to worry about. They had enough stress to manage from other sources. Booth eyed her carefully composed expression, reading it as easily as he might read the morning paper. Money was not her true motivation. "So you're really going to do it? Publish another book?"

"I haven't completely decided yet," she gave a half shrug. "I do have some ideas though, so I figured it wouldn't hurt to write them down."

"And since you've been having trouble sleeping, there's no time like the present," Booth concluded, smiling sadly when she met his gaze with a bit of guilt in her eyes.

"I have been keeping you up."

"I don't sleep as well without you next to me," he explained. "But that's not the point. Why haven't you said anything? I know you're worried about the trial, but you won't talk about it. I want to help."

"You do help, Booth. I wasn't really trying to keep anything from you, I just… It seemed wrong to make you worry over something we can't change. Plus, you have to testify, and I know you're feeling guilty about that. I didn't want to make it any worse."

"Bones, if something's upsetting you, I want to know about it. No matter what it is. I know we can't fix the situation, but I want to be there for you, even if all I can do is listen." Their eyes held for a long moment as she sighed and leaned her head backward against the couch. "How many nights has it been now?"

"I don't know. What day is it?"

"Bones," he admonished gently.

"Sorry," she murmured. He shook his head and smiled at her.

"Don't be. I love you."

"I love you too." They smiled and shared a sweet kiss. Booth closed the screen of her laptop and moved it to the coffee table. Brennan sighed, knowing that he would insist on going back to bed, where she would no doubt lie awake until the sun rose.

"You know, as long as we're both awake," he said, nuzzling the side of her neck. "I have a pretty good idea about something else that might distract you… Maybe even make you tired enough to sleep." Brennan's lips curved upward predictably.

"I really should...finish what I was doing…" Her speech was disjointed, owing to the fact that her husband's lips had just found the sensitive skin below her ear. It was like a direct link to her core. Booth would have called it her Kryptonite.

"I don't think you really want to," Booth whispered, grinning smugly against her skin.

Brennan sighed, losing the will to argue as their lips connected. Her arms went around his neck, and she was only vaguely aware of being picked up and carried upstairs. She wondered absently how he had managed to turn the lights off, but his tongue was dancing with hers, erasing all other conscious thought.

Booth placed her gently on her feet next to their bed and made quick work of her clothing. In less than a minute, their sleepwear was in a pile on the floor, and Brennan moaned as she melted into him. He leaned back just enough to rake his eyes over her naked form, taking a ragged breath to steady himself. It would have been so easy to take her hard and fast, effectively exhausting her until her body forced her mind to sleep, but Booth was determined to take his time. He wanted to drive away every worrisome thought until she could focus on nothing but their connection to one another.

Brennan wasn't as interested in taking things slowly, however, and she surprised him by stepping aside to guide him onto the bed. They were nothing but soft lips and wandering hands as she urged him toward the middle of the mattress. She shuddered reflexively when his fingertips traced her entrance, teasing her clit lightly.

"I want to taste you," he groaned, when at last they broke apart to take a breath. She smirked at him, her eyes full of challenge.

"Me first."

His breath came out in a rush as she scaled down his body to take him into her mouth. Her tongue circled the head, teasing along the ridge until he was panting with need. Booth watched himself disappear between her lips as she moved up and down, swallowing around him when he reached the back of her throat.

"Turn around," he begged. Her features showed only a brief flash of confusion before she understood what he wanted.

He helped her to spin her hips toward him, settling her knees on either side his shoulders. Booth adjusted their positions slightly until he could practically feel the heat of her arousal on his face. He felt her lips around him again, and he groaned as he swept his tongue along the length of her folds, starting at her clit and ending with his tongue buried deep inside of her. Brennan moaned, sending pleasant vibrations that seemed to reach every nerve in his body, and he couldn't help but return the favor.

Brennan felt as though her whole body was vibrating, and it slowly became more difficult to focus on her own task. Though she had slipped her forearms beneath him to clutch the backs of his thighs, she shifted so that she could stroke him as she continued to work him over with her mouth. The new angle made it a little more difficult to take him as deeply as before, but Booth didn't seem to mind.

He took her change in tactic as a sign that she was ready for a little more stimulation as well, and when he plunged two fingers into her, she rewarded him with a particularly strong pull of her lips. Her thighs began to tremble against him, and he knew that she was nearing her release. Booth was struggling to hold his own orgasm back by that point. Reaching deep inside of her, his fingertips brushed her g-spot just as he bit down on her clit. It was all too much for her, and she shattered against him, her cries of pleasure muffled by the hard flesh she kept in her mouth. As her tremors slowed, Brennan regained enough of her focus to continue her own efforts, and Booth had nearly reached his limit as well.

"Ride me, baby. I need to be inside you," Booth pled. He needed that connection, and he knew she did as well. Brennan obliged him without hesitation, rising to her hands and knees and turning back to face him.

She sank onto him gradually, for which he was thankful. He was barely holding onto his determination to take things slowly, and it was all he could do not to thrust roughly into her. Their eyes met as she ground her hips against his, and she could see the tentative hold he was keeping on his release. Brennan leaned backward to rest her palms on his thighs, enabling him to reach new places within her each time they came fully together.

Brennan whimpered at the intensity of each sensation, allowing her head to fall backward so that the ends of her hair brushed his thighs. Booth moved one hand from her hips to her clit, pressing gentle circles into the sensitive flesh. When at last she detonated around him, Booth came with her, flooding her with warmth and leaving her weak and exhausted.

He eased her down onto his chest, and she collapsed against him willingly, their hearts thundering in time with one another. A thin sheen of sweat covered them both, but neither seemed to mind. They came down together slowly, each still pulsating slightly where they were joined.

"Okay," Brennan sighed. "Now I can sleep."

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Booth woke just before their alarm was set to go off and looked down to find his wife sleeping peacefully against his chest. They had stayed awake just long enough to clean up after themselves before a deep, sated sleep had claimed them both. He tentatively brushed her hair away from her face, and he was pleased when she didn't stir. Though he knew she would give him hell for it later, he reached over to switch off the alarm clock. Booth sent a quick text to each of their bosses that they would both be coming in a little late that day. Cullen responded with a simple 'okay,' but Cam took the time to express her approval that Brennan was taking the morning off. It seemed that no one had been able to escape Brennan's ever-shifting moods lately.

He stayed awake for a short time, content to watch her sleep and listen to the steady sounds of her breathing. As had become a habit recently, his mind drifted to the testimony he would have to give at her father's trial. Brennan had been correct when she'd spoken of his feelings of guilt the night before, and although he had learned to manage his guilt much better over the past year or so, he was struggling with this particular situation.

He tried to look at things from her perspective, wondering if he could ever truly be as compartmentalized and unbiased as she was. Although his relationship with his father had been much different than the one between Brennan and Max, it was no less fraught with pain and tension. He wasn't sure how he would feel if his wife were forced to testify against his father for some reason. While Booth tended to think the worst of his father, even so many years later, he wasn't sure how he would feel if the situation were reversed. At this point, Booth only assumed that his father was dead. No one really knew for sure, much the same way that no one had really ever known either way about Brennan's parents, at least until her mother's remains were identified.

Booth had witnessed the change in his wife firsthand. It was one thing to presume that a parent was dead; it was entirely another to know it for sure. Worse still was the fact that, through his testimony, Booth might end up being partially responsible for Max's death. Although he knew that Brennan didn't see it that way, he would've given his left arm not to have to testify against Max. He only hoped that the defense attorney was as good as they thought he was…

"Booth! We overslept!" She was shaking him insistently, glaring at the digital readout on their alarm clock. Booth realized he must've dozed off and grumbled sleepily.

"It's okay, Bones. I let Cam and Cullen know that we'd be in a little late today. They were fine with it."

"Why?" Now she was glaring at him.

"You needed the rest. You were sleeping soundly for once, and I didn't have the heart to wake you. It's fine, really. Cam even agreed that it was a good idea to take the morning off." He could see that she wasn't likely to agree with him, especially when she sighed in frustration and began to move quickly about the room. "You can be mad at me all you want, but you know I'm right. You were exhausted, and you know how that could affect your work," he said with false innocence. She stuck her head out of the closet to frown at him in disgust.

"I know what you're doing."

"Trying to take care of my wife?"

"Making it sound like I would've made mistakes in my work if I'd gotten up on time. That's ridiculous," she said stubbornly. Booth waited until she had turned away to roll his eyes.

"You know you're going to stay late anyway," he reminded her, not bothering to mask the disapproval in his tone. "It's not like you won't put in a full day even with the late start."

"That's beside the point," she replied testily, moving from the closet to the bathroom so that she could start the shower. Booth got out of bed and came to stand behind her as she adjusted the water temperature. His arms slipped around her waist, pulling her against him.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. Brennan sighed again and turned to meet his gaze reluctantly. She was almost surprised that he actually did appear repentant, and she felt her irritation diminish.

"It's okay." She kissed him lightly. "Thanks for taking care of me." He gave her a slow smile, and his eyes flickered toward the running water.

"Does that mean I can join you?" he asked hopefully. Brennan failed to stifle a chuckle at his request.

"Well… it would save time."

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As Booth had predicted, Brennan did end up staying at the lab later than usual. He had driven her to work that morning in the hopes of being able to curtail her late night, but she was insistent on finishing up with an analysis before agreeing to head home. He'd brought Indian takeout for dinner, but she ate sparingly, eating perhaps half her usual amount before returning to the Bone Room. As luck would have it, they were called to a crime scene just as Brennan was finishing up, and Booth cursed under his breath at the poor timing. His wife didn't seem to share his irritation, however, shrugging out of her labcoat with almost enthusiastic speed.

The crime scene consisted of a charred set of remains in the driver's seat of a convertible. The car rested at an angle in a roadside ditch, slightly sheltered by the encroaching forest. Brennan tugged a pair of latex gloves over her hands as she approached, weaving through the emergency personnel and their vehicles.

"The victim was doused with gasoline and then set on fire," Brennan announced, noting the lack of charring on the majority of the vehicle and mentally calculating how long the fire might have burned. A local sheriff was trading information with Booth regarding tire marks and the person who had reported seeing the fire. "Female… Probably in her early twenties. Preauricular sulcus on the iliac. She's given birth."

"Ran off the side of the road, set on fire… Somebody wanted her dead," Booth surmised. Brennan went on to list fractures to the right tibia and fibula, skull, and manubrium while he poked around the car a little more. At almost the precise moment that he noticed a diaper bag in the trunk, he heard an odd noise. Odd and unexpected. He shushed Brennan. "You hear that?"

He shouted for the emergency workers to stop moving for a moment, and in the silence, the source of the noise became clearer.

"Holy crap," the sheriff sputtered, following the beam of Booth's flashlight to an overhanging branch. An infant car seat was perched precariously in the tree limbs, and the baby inside of it was squawking indignantly. Booth shouted for a ladder, and waited nervously as a fireman removed the seat and the baby from the tree. A paramedic rushed forward to examine the child, and Booth shared an incredulous glance with his wife.

"There's not a scratch on the boy," the sheriff announced a few minutes later.

"Wow, what are the odds?" Booth wondered aloud.

"Do you really want to know?" Brennan asked.

"Maybe later," he said placatingly. The EMT handed the baby to Booth, and Brennan smiled as she watched the little boy grin at her husband. She'd never seen him with a baby, but he looked completely at ease. The boy began to fuss a little, and Booth turned toward her. "He's a little fussy. Want to give him a cuddle?"

"Just because I have breasts doesn't mean I have magical powers over infants," she replied, feeling more than a little out of her depth.

"Maybe he's just not old enough yet," Booth smirked. "He probably just needs a diaper change." He lifted the baby up and sniffed experimentally, wincing in disgust when his suspicion was confirmed. "Grab that diaper bag, Bones."

Brennan picked up the bag and followed Booth to the back of a fire and rescue truck. He passed the baby to her so that he could remove his jacket, and she held him gingerly, her arms stretched outward from her body. Booth laid his jacket over the back step of the truck and gently placed the baby on top of it. Brennan dug through the diaper bag for each of the items he requested, but there didn't seem to be any baby powder.

"No powder?" Booth frowned. He closed up the diaper temporarily and wrapped up the wipes in the dirty one, while Brennan continued to look through the bag.

"Hey, wait a minute. Look." She pulled a small key from the bag and held it up. "There's a rip in the lining of the bag, like someone was trying to hide it."

"Okay, I'll get an evidence bag and ask the EMT if they have any baby powder. Just watch him." He was gone before Brennan could stop him, and she panicked a little as the baby began to fuss again. Is baby powder really that important?

"No, no! No need to fuss!" she insisted, speaking to the baby in a high-pitched voice she didn't recognize. Unfortunately, it only seemed to add to the baby's frustration. "Obviously something is upsetting you. Children have toys," she recalled, setting the key down as she reached for the diaper bag. She unearthed a stuffed purple elephant and frowned at it. "You know, elephants are not purple. This is wrong." The baby flipped onto his stomach and finally stopped crying.

"Doing okay?" Booth asked as he reappeared holding a small evidence bag. Apparently the EMTs didn't have baby powder. Brennan shrugged.

"He seems to prefer lying on his stomach."

"That's pretty normal for this age. Where's the key?"

"I set it down…" She trailed off as her eyes moved to his jacket. "Oh no."

"What?"

"I think he swallowed it."

"Swallowed it? 'Oh no' is right." Booth looked at the baby again and watched him for a few moments. He didn't seem to be having any trouble breathing, but Booth decided it wouldn't hurt to have one of the medics check him over again. "I think he's alright, but…"

"But?"

"Well, that key was evidence. You know how chain of custody works. This kid stays with us until we get the key back. In the meantime, let's make sure it's in his stomach and not his airway." Brennan paled in alarm.

"I'm so sorry, I…" She inwardly cursed her inexperience.

"Hey, it's okay. It happens; babies will put anything and everything into their mouths. Toddlers too," he assured her. But the fretful expression on her face didn't change as they tracked down a medic with a stethoscope. "Parker swallowed a penny once when I had him overnight. He was about two. They did x-rays to make sure it went where it was supposed to, and then we just had to wait it out. He was fine, and I'm sure this little guy will be too. Don't beat yourself up about it, okay? It happens to everyone at one point or another."

Brennan felt slightly better with his reassurance as well as the EMT's confirmation that the baby showed no signs of respiratory distress. She suggested that they take him to the lab for an x-ray rather than wait hours at an emergency room. Most of the squints seemed to fall in love with the baby instantly, though Zack seemed a little uncomfortable around him. Brennan smiled along with them as she watched the little boy gurgling and grinning up at Hodgins.

She had to admit that the boy really was adorable. His thin, blonde hair was soft and sweet-smelling, and once they'd gotten him out of the night air, his mood had improved considerably. He babbled and smiled at everyone, enjoying the attention. Brennan still felt guilty that he needed to be there in the first place, but the x-ray was done quickly enough, confirming that he had indeed swallowed the small key.

"Social Services says we can take him home," Booth announced as he stepped onto the platform. Brennan picked up the baby, unconsciously bouncing a little to keep him happy.

"Home? They're really okay with that?"

"Yeah, well, registering as a foster parent turned out to be a really good idea. Everything's all set up for temporary care. Once he passes the key, they'll get him a more permanent placement," he explained. Brennan nodded and handed him the baby so that she could grab her things from her office.

"Zack, get started on the remains, please. I'll be back in tomorrow morning." Booth followed her to her office and strapped the baby into the infant carrier.

"We'll need to get him a different car seat," Booth muttered.

"Why?"

"This one's been in an accident. It's not safe to use it anymore. We can grab one on the way home. He'll need formula anyway." Booth's mind was traveling backward in time, trying to recall the things he'd learned when Parker had been an infant. He hoped that this baby wouldn't be stubborn about taking a bottle. Parker had been breastfed for the majority of his infancy, and it had taken months to convince him to take a bottle. He made a mental note to get a few different kinds of formula in case this baby didn't tolerate the usual concoction. Soy, hypoallergenic, maybe the kind with rice cereal in it…

Booth gave his wife a crash course in infant nutrition as they perused the baby section of the Walmart near their home, and Brennan was surprised at the number of things that were required to care for a baby. It wasn't something she'd ever had cause to consider before, and she felt more than a little overwhelmed. When they finally got home, they were both relieved that the baby had managed to stay asleep while being carried into the house.

"Is he okay to sleep in the car seat?" Brennan asked quietly. "We bought that other thing."

"We can set up the playpen for tomorrow. It won't hurt him to stay where he is, and he's sleeping well. If he wakes up later, we can always set it up then," he whispered.

Brennan nodded and changed into her pajamas, wondering whether she would wake up if the baby cried. She assumed that Booth would, even if she didn't. This was one area in which his military sleep training would be very beneficial. They settled into bed, and Booth could feel her tension as he snaked an arm around her waist.

"Hey, don't worry," he murmured. "We'll be fine."

"I don't know anything about babies, Booth."

"Maybe not, but you're the smartest person I know. And I can teach you. You'd be surprised how quickly your instincts take over."

"What if I don't have those instincts?"

"You do," he assured her. "I've watched you with Parker. Your maternal instincts are all there. Don't worry."

"Parker's older though," she argued stubbornly.

"Doesn't matter. You'll learn quickly, just like you did with Parker. Just like you do with everything you put your mind to." He pressed his lips to the back of her head, breathing her in as he closed his eyes. "Get some sleep, baby. I love you."

"I love you too."

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So I mostly skipped The Player Under Pressure because there wasn't much that was necessary to talk about for the purposes of my story. Sorry if that was one of your favorites, but I really wanted to move on to the Baby Andy episode. Was anyone else, like me, wondering what on earth was so important about the baby powder? :) You'll notice that I once again softened Booth's snarkiness. That will continue, and while this episode will be covered fairly well, I added quite a few subtle changes to make it appropriate for my characters.

Let me know what you think! More on Tuesday! :)