A/N: Inspired by today's weather where I live. And I'm getting the feeling a lot of you will be happy with the ending.

There are days when you just don't feel like waking up. Today was one of those days.

Temperance heard the sound of the rain hitting her bedroom windows way before she awoke from a deep slumber. It was as if her mind had subconsciously recorded the sound, analyzed it and came to the conclusion that today wouldn't be a very good day.

Her bedroom was plunged in semi-darkness despite the time of the day and the wind blew loudly, making a branch of the only tree in the front yard brush against the glass. She groaned softly before turning around and snuggling against her husband. She knew she had to get up. Her children certainly wouldn't make themselves breakfast, get dressed and send themselves to school. Lukas would, but she doubted his twin sister would follow along.

Giving her husband a quick kiss on the chest, Temperance sat up and got out of bed. The carpet squished under her feet as she made her way out of her room and into the silent hallway. All doors were closed except hers. Quietly, she made her way around the second floor, waking up her children as she went.

In the kitchen, she dared making all the noise she wanted as she began making breakfast for her children and coffee for herself and Booth. As she rummaged through the cupboards for the coffee, Temperance wondered how long ago she had agreed to becoming a housewife, if she had even agreed. Making breakfast, getting the kids ready for school, doing the laundry, cleaning the house, helping out with homework, bringing her children to the various clubs and teams they were part of. The change had been so subtle she had hardly seen it occur. Ten years ago, she wouldn't have thought she would have been one of those. Yet today, she had to admit, she had become one of them.

Footsteps in the stairs told her Lukas would be joining her in the kitchen. She chuckled inwardly. Is that what she had called "Mommy vision" when she was herself a child and her mother would catch her doing something even with her back turned, knowing which one of your children was coming down the stairs simply by listening to the sound of their footsteps?

"Hey Lukas." Temperance said, looking up from the coffeemaker.

"Hey Mom." The nine-year-old boy replied before sitting at the table. "Can we watch cartoons this morning while we eat breakfast?"

"No, Luke, you know the rules. No cartoons during breakfast."

Grabbing a bowl in a cupboard and the cereal box in another, she placed them in front of her son.

"Serve yourself." She added before going back to the kitchen counter.

She watched as her son sat up on his knees, grabbed the box and poured cereal in his bowl. She couldn't believe how much he looked like Booth. Same brown hair, same chocolate brown eyes, same squared face, same stubbornness but also same soft side. Temperance smiled tenderly at her son.

"What?" Lukas asked, after catching his mother staring at him.

"Nothing."

Riley soon followed and before she knew it, Booth and Brina joined them in the kitchen and her whole family was reunited for breakfast.

In an hour, everybody was running out the door. The rain was still pouring down on the town of Winchester and in their blue plastic raincoats and rubber boats, Temperance almost thought her children were dressed for Halloween.

"Maybe we should just give them an umbrella." Temperance said as she climbed in Booth's car.

"What's wrong with their raincoats?"

"It makes them look like walking blue ghosts."

Booth chuckled.

"I don't see what's funny about this." Temperance said as Booth pulled out of their driveway.

"Have you heard them complain about being called ghosts at school?"

"No. But I don't see how that-"

"Then they're fine."

Reaching over to her, he ruffled her hair.

"You mother hen." He teased.

Temperance glared at him and looked out the window.

The rain trailed down her windows, the wipers were going at it full speed and they had been on the highway for a minute when Temperance turned back to her husband.

"What did you talk about?"

Booth glanced briefly at her and frowned.

"Who talked about what?"

"You and Hodgins. What did you talk about?"

"When?"

Temperance sighed irritatedly.

"You know very well when. At the Diner yesterday."

Booth chuckled.

"Nothing important."

Temperance raised her eyebrows.

"We talked about his son if you must know."

Temperance nodded.

"That's what I thought."

"Then why did you ask if you already knew what we had talked about?"

Booth hit the breaks and the car slowly came to a stop.

"Damn traffic." Booth mumbled.

"Have you ever thought of taking off?"

Booth's head snapped in her direction. Her expression was serious and immediately told him she wasn't joking. He sighed.

"Once."

Her eyes went round and Booth immediately felt guilty. He took her hand in his.

"Just before Riley and I got sick."

"While you were gambling?" Temperance asked, her voice caught in her throat.

Booth nodded.

"Yeah. I thought you deserved better than me. I had planned to borrow the money from my dad, pay back my debts and leave so you could go on living the life you deserved, without me."

Temperance pulled her hand away.

"How could you even think such a thing?"

There was a hint of disgust in her tone and Booth found himself turning defensive.

"I was depressed, Bones. I was ashamed of myself. You were always so perfect in my eyes, I didn't feel adequate. I felt inferior and I didn't like it. It's not my fault I need to feel in control."

"That's your therapist talking."

"Maybe but he was right when he said so. I needed to be in control and I wasn't. So I got angry, angry at myself, and I thought leaving would change all of that."

"Then what made you stay?"

"Riley, Lukas, you. I came home that night and the three of you were sitting at the kitchen table, doing homework. Riley was beaming because she had remembered her addition table and you told her you were really proud of her. I quickly realized that I would never be able to leave my family and that it had been a stupid idea to even think about leaving."

Temperance nodded, still unsure. Booth turned back to the road. A trail of red lights illuminated the rainy morning.

"Next time you have a question like that, just make sure we are not sitting in traffic, Bones."

"Why not?"

"Because if you don't like my answer, I have nowhere to hide if you want to kick my ass."

A smile tugged at his lips. Booth turned to his wife.

"Jack left because he was scared of the unknown, not because he didn't love Angela. He feels guilty, really guilty. It's all that should matter."

Temperance nodded and turned back to the window.

Booth turned on the radio to learn, seconds later, about the accident only a few miles ahead of them.

"Oh for crying out loud!" Booth said as he hit the steering wheel with his fist.

Temperance rolled her eyes.

In the distance, a lightning zigzagged across the sky.

"You're late." Monica said as Temperance barged in through the sliding doors.

"Traffic was horrible." Temperance replied as she walked quickly to her office.

Monica skipped behind her teacher, trying to keep up with her.

"The pathology report on Mackenzie Robertson is in. I didn't check it out but the pathologist assured me you wouldn't learn more than you already knew about the death. The file is on your desk. Also, Dr. Lewis called from Florida. They need your help to identify remains found at the bottom of a well."

"Can't Zach do it?" Temperance asked as she opened the door to her office.

"He can't. He's working on another case up in New York."

Temperance sighed.

"We really need more forensic anthropologists in this country." Temperance said as she grabbed Mickey's file.

Opening it, she quickly scanned the content before grabbing her phone and dialing her partner's number. His voice reached her ears seconds later.

"Booth."

"Hey it's me. I got Mickey's lab results."

"And?"

Temperance sat down.

"Do you want me to leave?" Monica asked.

Temperance shook her head.

"Death was caused by a fractured spine and skull due to a fall, in this case from a roof. Two small bruises were found on her arm and leg, probably due to struggle. Tox screen came back positive. Traces of sedatives were found in the victim's blood. And..."

Temperance stopped in mid-sentence.

"And what?"

"And two hair fibers were found on the victim's clothes: one human, one feline. The human one did not belong to Mackenzie."

Silence on the other side of the line.

"I guess that rules out a "ghostly" killing, doesn't it?"

"Man."

"You said it."

"That means we have a serial killer on our hands."

"Not necessarily. I mean, if Mackenzie's death is related to the four others, it means the killer would have been killing for thirty-two years, making the man in his sixties."

"Again Bones, not necessarily. If he started killing at the age of twenty, he could be 52 today. Did a test determine who the hair fiber came from or at least what kind of cat the other one is from?"

Temperance scanned the file.

"American Bobtail."

"Well at least we got that covered."

Another silence, quickly broken by Booth.

"Here's what we're going to do. I'll try to speed up the process for Melanie Pharatt's excavation. If we can prove that Melanie wasn't killed by her father then we'll know we have a serial killer on our hands. Tomorrow, I'll pick Raquel and Quinn up at their school and I'll get Raquel to describe the man she saw in her room. Maybe we'll be able to find a match or something."

"Okay."

"There's not much more else we can do today. Cullen called a meeting before lunch and I don't know how long it's going to take."

"I'll try to see if I can't find something else on the other victims' bodies. Maybe I'll get lucky and find something I hadn't seen the last couple of times."

"Sure. Call me if you find anything."

On that, the two of them hung up. Temperance glanced down at the file and a smile tugged at her lips.

"What's so funny?" Monica asked.

Temperance looked up.

"Nothing."

Monica nodded. Temperance's smile didn't wash away. With a smirk still printed on her face, she got up and motionned to Monica to follow her. Monica obeyed but not without casting a confused glance at her teacher.