I know it's been a little while since the last update, but here is the next chapter. It's just a filler/transitional chapter, but I wanted to give you guys something...
Brennan was sitting on the couch, her computer open in her lap, the television displaying cartoons in the background. She looked up briefly when she heard the front door open and then looked back at the screen.
"How's she feeling?" Booth asked, glancing over at Christine who was lying on the cushions on the floor watching the T.V. with Eli right beside her. He dropped his keys and wallet in the bowl by the door and shrugged out of his suit jacket.
Brennan paused, looking up. "She's feeling better," she answered. "She just had a bowl of dry cheerios."
Booth nodded, nudging Little Hank in the shoulder. "Go lay down with Christine and Eli, Bub."
Hank ran over to his sister and jumped onto the cushions, giggling as he landed on his belly.
Booth smiled, walking over to Brennan and sitting down next to her. He leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. "Writing a new book?" he asked, peering over her shoulder to look at her computer screen.
Brennan shook her head, closing the lid slightly. "I was googling." She shook her head. "I do not see why it is so popular; I received 2000 links, but most of them were not helpful. I found two websites that may have been useful; however, they required me to enter my credit card number in order for me to obtain any relevant information."
"You didn't, did you?"
She shook her head. "Of course not."
He exhaled. "What were you trying to find out?"
"The individual that a particular phone number is registered to."
He raised an eyebrow. "Do I want to know why?"
She sighed.
He reached up and brushed a stray strand of hair out of her face. "Bones, what's wrong? Did someone call you? Threaten you? Did they leave a message?" He started to get up, but she stopped him with a hand on his arm.
She shook her head. "No, nothing like that." She paused. "I called the number, but it has been disconnected."
"What number? Bones."
She leaned forward and grabbed the piece of paper off the coffee table.
"Where did you find this?" he asked, holding the corner of the note, as if the ripped paper was a piece of evidence in a murder investigation.
"In Eli's backpack. Booth—." She swallowed. "My father wrote it. That's, it's my father's handwriting."
He relaxed and looked at the note more closely. "Are you sure?"
"Yes, but I don't recognize the number." She paused. "Why did you call Russ?"
He pursed his lips. "I was worried about you, Bones. I knew you wouldn't call him, but I thought he could help."
"Well, he didn't. He had no useful information."
"So you talked to him?"
She nodded. "Yes, but like I said, he was not helpful. Perhaps, my parents should have named him Google."
He smiled.
"I just want to know how Eli ended up with Bunsen and why he would have a handwritten note from my father."
"Bunsen?" He snickered.
She shoved him. "Shut up, Booth. I didn't name him. My father did."
He sighed. "Sorry."
She deflated slightly, sinking deeper into the couch cushions.
He set her laptop on the coffee table and wrapped his arms around her, her head falling to his shoulder. "One of my guys owes me a favor. I'll give him a call and see what he can dig up on the phone number. And you said Lynette told you the police suspect Eli and his mom were running from someone, right?" Feeling her nod, he continued. "Maybe they were running from Eli's dad. If his dad was a bad guy, he might have a record. I can bring Eli's toothbrush down to the FBI forensics team tomorrow and ask them to run his DNA. If his dad's in the system, we might get a hit."
"He wet the bed again," she whispered.
He nodded.
"If Lynette can't find a competent relative willing to take Eli in permanently, I want him to stay with us. He's so—I don't want him to—."
He kissed her head. "I know, Bones, I know."
She let out a breath.
"We'll figure this out."
She sat up and looked at him. "This is just another secret my father was keeping from me."
"We keep lots of things from the kids, Bones."
"They're seven and two, Booth!" When Christine and Eli turned their heads, she sighed and lowered her voice to a harsh whisper. "I'm a grown woman. I did not need him to protect me."
"He's your dad, Bones. It doesn't matter if you needed him to, he was going to do what he could to protect you anyway." He looked over at the children and sighed. "That's just what fathers do. The good ones, at least." He paused. "Have you slept at all today? You look exhausted."
She shook her head and yawned, proving his point. "I slept for three hours last night and then Eli woke up."
"Bones."
"I'm fine, Booth."
"Close your eyes, Bones. Forget about that stupid dog and your father for a second and just sleep. We can worry about all this tomorrow. It's Sunday. It's the day of rest. The kids are fine and will be occupied for at least an hour. Please."
She shifted, stretching out on the couch. She rolled onto her back, her head in his lap, and looked up at him. "Will you call your guy, the one who owes you a favor?"
He smiled. "Later."
"And you will talk to the forensics team tomorrow?"
He nodded. "Yes."
She closed her eyes and rolled back onto her side. "Thank you."
He ran his fingers through her hair, much like he did whenever Christine fell asleep in his lap. "I love you," he whispered.
"I love you," she mumbled, half asleep.
"I know." He leaned back and turned his attention to the television.