Time for another rule. Thanks for all of the reviews.

I don't own Bones.

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Booth had walked into the house carrying the mail. Flipping through the envelopes, Booth had paused at a letter from Ms. Samantha Truax. Knowing that was the name of Hank's teacher, Booth placed the rest of the mail down on the coffee table, sat down on the couch and opened the envelope. His gut was telling him that this was not going to be good.

Unfolding the letter, Booth glanced around to see if any of the kids or Brennan were within view. Finding himself alone, Booth began to read,

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Booth,

My name is Samantha Truax and I am Hank's teacher. I would like to make arrangements to see you as soon as possible. Please call me and let me know when it would be convenient to meet with you about Hank.

Thank You,

Samantha Truax

Sighing, Booth put his head in his hands and muttered, "Shit."

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Walking into the schoolroom, Booth looked around at the art taped to the walls. Even though the artists were seven years old with one five year old thrown in the mix, Booth liked their use of color. Amused, Booth thought some of the paintings were better than the weird stuff that Angela painted occasionally. Some of the turtles may be blue and red; but, at least he could tell they were turtles.

A young woman who'd been sitting at her desk when Booth and Brennan walked in to classroom stood up and ran her hands down her skirt. Her nervousness was palpable and that made Booth's nerves start to jitter.

Smiling, Ms. Truax held out her hand, "Hi, I'm Samantha Truax."

Brennan, trying to put the young teacher at ease, smiled and replied, "I'm Dr. Temperance Brennan and this is my husband, Special Agent Seeley Booth."

Booth shaking Samantha's hand, was amused as always that Brennan made sure that Samantha was aware that there were titles in front of her and his name.

Stepping back, Booth folded his arms across his chest and waited.

Trying to show calm professionalism, Samantha commented, "I appreciate the fact that you both took time out of your busy schedules to see me."

Brennan, smiled again and replied, "Would you like to tell us why you wish to speak to us now? We're on the way to a crime scene and if I don't get . . ."

Booth, placing his hand on Brennan's arm, "What's Hank done now?"

Licking her lips, Samantha blushed and replied, "The other day Hank was talking too much in class. I had hushed him twice; but, he couldn't seem to curb his enthusiasm while we were discussing "Nate the Great and The Halloween Hunt" which we had just finished reading. He kept telling us that his parents are real detectives and they weren't afraid of Halloween like Nate is. He is very proud of you both and I could see that ; but, still his behavior was becoming difficult; so, I finally had no choice but to make him sit in the corner for time out."

Nodding her head, Brennan waited for the young teacher to finish her story. Booth, suddenly wanting to be somewhere else, gritted his teeth and held his ground.

Licking her lips again, Samantha finished her story, "While Hank was walking over to the chair he told me that he was going to get his father, who is a very important FBI Agent to arrest me for child abuse. I wanted to make sure that you understood what had really happened just in case he did go home with tales of me being abusive."

Blushing, Booth blew air between his lips and glanced skywards. Forcing himself not to squirm, Booth looked back at Samantha and remarked, "Hank didn't mention anything to me, Ms. Truax. He'd probably forgot about it right after he walked out of this room."

Nodding her head, Brennan observed, "Hank is a very sociable child and he probably felt that sitting in the corner away from everyone else is child abuse."

Samantha, uncertain how to respond opened her mouth and then closed it.

Booth, seeing that Samantha was uncertain about what Brennan had just said, laughed nervously and responded, "We're not saying you did anything wrong, Ms. Truax. We'll talk to Hank tonight about what is child abuse and what isn't."

Relieved, Samantha blushed and then replied, "Thank you. It doesn't take a lot to ruin a teachers career anymore. I would appreciate it if you would talk to Hank."

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Arriving at home that evening, Booth found Brennan and all his children in the kitchen. Walking into the room, Booth smiled and pointed to Hank, "Hank if you'd come with me, your mother and I would like to talk to you for a few minutes."

Joseph, Parker and Christine froze and stared at Hank. Hank, deciding that bravery was the way to play this slipped off his chair and walked across the room. Looking up his father, Hank smiled, "I love you Daddy."

Placing his right hand over his mouth, Booth glanced at Brennan who was walking behind Hank. Smiling, Brennan shrugged her shoulders.

Following Hank into the living room, Booth walked over towards the couch and sat down next to Hank. Brennan, not wanting to intimidate her son, sat on the chair next the couch and waited to see if Booth would start.

Booth, managing to control his urge to laugh, removed his hand from his face and with a serious look on his face, asked Hank, "Did you threaten to have your teacher arrested for child abuse."

Clearing his throat, Hank replied, "Maybe"

Sighing, Booth no longer amused, admonished his small son, "Hank, just because someone does something you don't like doesn't mean that you can threaten to have them arrested and you really can't threaten them by saying I'm going to arrest them for child abuse. Sitting in a corner isn't child abuse. . . . I know we've been over what abuse is more than once . . . The touching you in wrong places . . . Hitting you . . . You said you understood. You're smart for your age that's why you're in class with second graders; but, if you're going to behave like this then maybe we should put you back in to kindergarten this year."

Frowning, Hank replied, "No Daddy. I was just kidding my teacher when I said I was going to have you arrest her. I can prove it Daddy. I didn't tell you; so, you see it was a joke. Ms. Truax doesn't know a joke when she hears one Daddy. I swear it."

Closing his eyes and rubbing his forehead, Booth grimaced. Opening his eyes, Booth stared at Brennan.

Brennan, seeing the frustration on Booth's face, remarked, "Hank, accusing someone of abuse and then threatening to have them arrested isn't very funny."

Shrugging his shoulders, Hank replied, "I thought it was. I promise not to tell my teachers any more jokes."

Nodding his head, Booth responded, "Good idea."

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Two days later, Booth handed Hank an manila envelope and stared at him. The rest of Booth's children, curious about what Hank had done this time, waited for the letter to be read.

Hank, opening the envelope, took the letter out and read it. "Fourteen. You cannot tell your teacher that you will have her arrested by your Daddy if she does something you don't like. . . . Gosh, Daddy, I said I'm sorry. The Head Daddy is just piling on now."

Clamping his right hand over his mouth, Booth walked away from his children, out of the man cave and up the stairs.

Christine turning to Hank, commented, "Shame on you Hank. You made Daddy mad . . . "

The sudden sound of their father laughing upstairs caused Hank to remark, "See even Daddy agrees that the Head Daddy is piling on."

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Ah, how well I remember time out in school. I loved it. I'd just look out of the window until the teacher decided that I wasn't being punished at all and that timeout was a treat to me. HaHa