Spoilers/Timeline: None/Set in future; Booth & Brennan are in an established relationship.

A/N: Thanks to Jess (CupcakeBean) for pretty much threatening the worry right out of me.

Disclaimer: I wish it was, but Bones is not mine. Title from Bruce Hornsby's Look Out Any Window


I watch as he takes another glove off the shelf and hands it to his son for inspection. Except his son has disappeared for the fourth time in an hour and the glove falls to the floor with a thud.

"Park!" Exasperation colors his voice as he moves down the aisle to see if his son is testing bats again.

I glance to my left and suppress a chuckle as the boy drops a tennis racket bigger than his entire body.

"Go," I whisper, stepping out from behind the counter to pick up the fallen equipment. He smiles and races back to his dad.

It only takes a minute for me to fix the display and then I'm behind the cash register again. Watching.

It seems they've finally decided on a glove for the boy, who keeps folding it and tucking it under his arm. I even catch him lean down to smell it once or twice. There's nothing like the smell of a new glove.

I assume they'll be headed to the front, eager to leave after having spent what surely has been an hour and a half testing different baseball gloves. Instead, they loiter. Perhaps he needs some hockey equipment? He regularly comes in to have his skates sharpened and most leagues are starting up again.... No, he stops in front of the softball equipment, his son nearly running into the back of his legs.

"How about this one, Dad?" He points to light pink glove halfway up the display.

He shakes his head and laughs, picking up tawny Rawlings. He crunches it a few times before throwing it up in the air. "This looks more like her, don't you think, bub?"

"How can it look like Bones, Dad? She's a person and that," he points to it, confused, "is a baseball glove."

He groans. Though an amused look settles on his face. "I just don't think Bones would appreciate pink."

The boy contemplates this for a moment and then nods, pulling his father to the front of the store. I busy myself with the stack of receipts in front of me, hoping I haven't been caught staring.

"Is this it?" I pick up the baseball glove and scan the tag.

"For today."

"That glove is mine. My old one broke." I look down at the boy with what must be an extremely confused look - gloves are hard to break or tear - because he continues. "There was an accident at the lab."

"The lab?" I raise an eyebrow and pick up the softball glove.

"We were doing experiments in my after school science program. I'm an official assistant now."

"That sounds like a lot of fun." I smile though I'm still not sure just what happened to the old glove. Perhaps I don't want to know.

"It is. My other mom - the one who that glove's for - works there."

"Your step-mom?"

His father colors, sputtering, "We're not married. We haven't even been dating that long..." The boy rolls his eyes at me like this bit of information couldn't be further from the truth. I fight back a laugh and hand him the bag as his dad pays.

"Well, congrats and enjoy the gloves." I smile as they head for the door, mind drifting back to the various times he's been in the store over the years. This isn't the first time his son has been with him. I doubt it will be the last. It is, however, the first I've seen him purchase women's equipment. And that tells me everything.