I just realized in my research that Matthew had already been to jail once for a robbery, so let's just say for the sake of this story, that never happened and this is his first time in prison. Anyhow, please enjoy!


Flashback

Christine looked up as Matthew came inside. It was late, past 11. She took in his disheveled appearance and guilty expression.

"What did you do?" she asked immediately. He winced.

"Nothing," he answered. He went to move past her, and that's when she noticed he was holding his arm.

"What happened?"

"Flesh wound," Matthew told her, trying to get up the stairs.

"You aren't going anywhere until you explain to me how you are bleeding and why you look like you've been to hell and back," Christine growled. Matthew sighed.

"Is your father still up?"

"No, he and the children went to bed half an hour ago," she answered. She gestured to the chair. "Sit." He sat. He reached into his coat and pulled out some cash, setting it gently on the table. Christine inhaled sharply.

"Where did you get that?" she asked, her voice a deadly whisper.

"At a convenience store," Matthew replied.

"Matthew!" she hissed. "We agreed to stop being criminals!"

"We need money, Christine," Matthew said firmly.

"How did you get hurt?"

"The owner had a gun behind the counter. He took a shot at me as I was running out. It's just a flesh wound," he said dismissively.

"I can't believe you," Christine said. "After we promised our children that this life was behind us, you go and do this!"

"It's the last time," Matthew argued. "I can't exactly start working right now, can I?"

"I have savings," Christine cut him off. "You could have just said we were tight."

"How do you have savings?"

"I just do. Now come on, let's get you cleaned up," she growled, leading the way.

Present

Matthew fingered the scar on his arm absently. Christine hadn't exactly been gentle cleaning it up, but then again, she had the right to be angry. He had put himself in danger and lied to their children, again.

"Visitor," the guard said, approaching his cell. Matthew stood and let himself be handcuffed. He was led to the phones, and he stopped short when he saw Russ sitting there looking back at him. Russ already had the other phone in his hand. Matthew sat after the guard uncuffed him.

"What are you doing here?" Matthew asked.

"I came to see you," Russ answered. "Didn't Tempe tell you I was coming?"

"She did. I was just hoping you wouldn't. I got thinking it might cause you trauma to see me in here."

"Good to know you still have your sense of humor," Russ said, smiling. Matthew smiled back.

"I try."

"Dad, how bad is it?"

"Pretty bad, Russ."

"Tempe said a murder charge?!"

"She's right."

"You're gonna beat it though, right?"

"I will do my best," Matthew promised. Russ looked anxious, so he changed the subject. "How are the girls?"

"Well," Russ said, smiling again. He regaled stories to Matthew about the girls and their antics. Before they knew it, time was up.

"I'll come back," Russ promised.

"Promise me something, son," Matthew said.

"Anything."

"Do not be like me."

"What do you mean?"

"Stay clean. Don't be a criminal. Don't end up like me," Matthew finished. The guard gestured time was up, so they said goodbyes and hung up the phone. Matthew caught one last look at his son before disappearing around the corner. He hated seeing the sadness there.

...

"You should have seen him, Tempe," Russ said. "He's scared." They were at her apartment making dinner. Amy and the girls were in the living room playing with Ripley. Russ had asked Amy to distract them so he and Temperance could talk.

"I know he's scared," Brennan said. "I want to meet his lawyer."

"So do I. Would it be okay if I stayed here for a bit? At least until I know when the trial date is?"

"Of course, Russ," Brennan agreed. She felt her phone vibrate in her pocket for the tenth time in half an hour. Booth most likely. They were having an ongoing game of Battleship.

"What are you doing?" Russ asked when she moved over to her game board, putting a white pin beside one of her boats.

"I'm indulging a friend of mine," she answered. She hadn't told Russ she was dating someone. She wanted him to meet Booth first.

"You're seriously playing Battleship over the phone?" Russ asked. "You're weird."

"It's fun," Brennan laughed. "Don't knock it til you try it."

"What's next, chess?"

"That could work," Brennan nodded thoughtfully.

"Tempe! Our father is in jail right now, and you're not acting serious," Russ said angrily.

"What do you want me to do, Russ? Sit here curled up in a ball and not be able to move from anxiety?" Brennan asked. "I can't do that. Dad wants me to live my life."

"You could at least act a little worried," Russ chastised.

"I am scared shitless, Russ," Brennan said, leaning on the counter closer to him. "Not a minute goes by that I don't think about the possibility that our father is going to be in jail for the rest of his life. I'm sorry I'm not visibly weak to prove that to you."

"I'm sorry," Russ said. "I'm just freaking out."

"So am I, but we can't let it hinder our lives. Dad wouldn't want that," Brennan advised. "We have to be strong. For him."

"All right," Russ said. "I'll try." Brennan's phone went off again.

"Damn," she muttered, putting a red pin in the bow of one of her boats.

"Try C7," Russ said, unable to help himself. Brennan texted this to Booth, who replied with a "Hit!"

"You're good," Brennan laughed, showing him. Russ smiled.

"I was unbeatable," Russ bragged.

"You stacked all the boats on top of each other. That's cheating, not being good," Brennan argued. She was still smiling though. She was happy to see her brother in slightly better spirits.

...

"Are we winning?" Parker asked. He was with Booth, and they were playing Battleship with Ms. Brennan.

"We were," Booth answered. "She must have help over there. She's getting better."

"Do you love her?" Parker questioned out of the blue. Booth almost choked on his water.

"Why do you ask that?"

"You just always have a smile when you're talking about her," Parker noted. "Doesn't that mean you love her?"

"Well," Booth started. Did it? Was he falling in love with her? He kind of thought so, not that he'd admit it to his son. "We're just seeing each other for now." That seemed like a good answer.

"Oh," Parker said, looking disappointed.

"Why do I get the feeling you want me to be in love with your teacher?" Booth asked.

"I just really like her," Parker answered. "I think she'd be a great mom."

"One step at a time, okay buddy?" Booth laughed. He ruffled his son's hair. Then he started thinking about what Brennan might look like in a wedding dress. He shook his head. They were way to early in their relationship to think about that. It still lingered in the back of his mind, though.

"Drat," Booth said, reading Brennan's next message.

"What?" Parker asked, craning to see.

"She sunk our battleship."

Two Days Later

Hodgins was nervous going into the school. He knew Angela worked there, that she was an art teacher. He hoped she wouldn't be too incredibly angry with him for tracking her down. He found her classroom after spending about fifteen minutes wandering the halls looking for it. He stood outside, trying to calm himself down.

"Be cool, Jack," he said. "Be cool." He stepped into the room. It was covered in children's artwork. Some were actually pretty decent. Angela was pinning up a freshly painted one over the blackboard when he cleared his throat.

"Oh!" she cried, jumping. She managed to not drop the artwork in her hands. "You scared me!"

"I'm sorry," Hodgins apologized. Then she recognized him.

"What are you doing here?" she asked. "I thought we agreed to be strangers?"

"We did," he answered. "I just...I had to see you again."

"Why?"

"Because I think you're great," Hodgins said, launching into the speech he'd prepared mentally on the way over. He didn't get very far though.

"Look, I just got out of a relationship and am still hurt by it," she said. "Maybe down the road when I'm happy again, we can revisit this."

"Oh. Okay," Hodgins nodded. "Of course."

"I'm sorry," she said, tilting her head at him.

"It's okay," he said, feeling totally not okay. He felt crushed. "I'll, uh, see you around."

"Okay," Angela echoed. She felt a little bad for dismissing him. He seemed like a genuinely nice guy, but she just wasn't ready. Then it hit her. How did he know where to find her?

...

"Great job today, guys," Brennan said as her class packed up. It was Monday. The week stretched out before her and seemed impossibly long. Russ was waiting at home for her. She hoped he remembered to walk and feed Ripley.

"Hey," Angela said, coming into her room. "So, I had a weird day."

"Yea?"

"Yea. Okay, so I slept with this guy the other night..."

"I know. I saw the underpants," Brennan interrupted.

"Right," Angela nodded. She had forgotten about that. "Anyway, he seemed to know how to find me."

"Was it Dr. Hodgins?" Brennan asked.

"How did you know?!"
"He was at my apartment when I moved back in, and he asked your name. I gave it to him not thinking anything of it. I'm sorry."

"Did you tell him I worked here?" Angela asked. "He showed up here today, and I'm pretty sure I didn't tell him I was an art teacher."

"He seemed to know that," Brennan commented, remembering. "He mentioned it when he asked me your name." They both were thinking hard until Brennan remembered.

"You came in here after their presentation," she said suddenly. "Remember? I introduced them to you. I don't recall saying your name, though."

"Oh," Angela said, scrunching her nose. "Oh, yea. I kind of remember now. But how would he know I was the artist?"

"You had paint on your hands," Brennan said, recalling it. "He must have put it together somehow."

"He's smart," Angela said, impressed.

"Either that or you told him while you were drunk," Brennan laughed.

"That's entirely possible too," Angela nodded. "It doesn't matter. I sent him away."

"Why?"

"I'm not ready, Brennan. I'm just not ready."

"Aw, Ange," Brennan said. "I know." She hugged her friend. Angela sniffled a little before breaking it up.

"I'll see you tomorrow okay?" she said, going out the door. Brennan felt bad for her friend. She wished she could help her to feel better.

...

Brennan answered the door to find Booth standing there grinning.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi," she responded. "What are you doing here?" Russ was watching TV in the living room.

"I missed you," he admitted. "I wanted to see how you were doing."

"I'm okay," she answered. "Did you want to come in? My brother is here."

"Sure, I'll come say hey," Booth said. "But first..." He pulled her into his arms and kissed her deeply.

"Mmm," Brennan mumbled after. "That was nice."

"There's more where that came from," he winked. Ripley trotted over then, and he nosed Booth's hand eagerly.

"He's looking for treats," Brennan explained.

"Well, today is his lucky day," Booth said, pulling out a dentastick. Ripley whined and bounced on his feet.

"Aren't you lucky?" Brennan asked Ripley, who snorted in response.

"Sit," Booth said. Ripley obeyed. "Raise a paw." A paw came up and swatted at the air. "Good boy!" Booth gave him the treat, and Ripley ran off with it.

"He'll love you forever now," Brennan laughed.

"Good," Booth smiled. "That was the goal." They walked into the living room.

"Hey," Russ said, waving.

"Russ, this is Booth," Brennan said.

"Nice to meet you," Booth said, going over and shaking Russ' hand.

"Is this your boyfriend?" Russ asked. "The guy you were playing Battleship with?"

"We're dating," Brennan answered.

"We haven't really had that conversation yet," Booth added. He looked over at Brennan. She smiled coyly back. Perhaps they would talk about it soon though.

"Nice," Russ nodded.

"Is that the Flyers?" Booth asked, sitting down and joining him. They started talking about hockey then. Brennan watched, feeling happy. It was nice to see her brother getting along with her possible boyfriend.

...

"Thanks for a great night," Booth said at the door. Russ had gone into the guest room to give them privacy. Ripley was snoring on the couch.

"Thanks for coming over," Brennan responded. Booth reached over and stroked her cheek. Then they were in each other's arms, kissing fiercely.

"I hate to go home," Booth said after, panting.

"One night you won't have to," Brennan promised. "Soon."

"Okay," he nodded.

"So, are we?" Brennan asked.

"Are we what?"

"Boyfriend and girlfriend?"

"Hmm," Booth mused teasingly. "What do you think?"

"I don't want to rush things," Brennan said quickly.

"I don't think it's rushing things to say we are boyfriend and girlfriend," Booth said. "I mean, we have gone through a lot together already. I saved your life. You stayed over at my place. I've seen your roommate's undergarments..."

"Okay, okay," Brennan laughed, interrupting. "I get it."

"I will see you tomorrow, girlfriend," Booth grinned.

"Good night, boyfriend," Brennan smiled. They kissed one more time. Brennan felt his lips on her skin still even after he was gone. She had a boyfriend. It felt really nice.