A/N: Set in early season 11, contains slight spoilers to the Loyalty in the Lie. But it's mostly fluff, because I find Daddy Booth irresistible. Again, thanks for the reviews and follows.

Booth jerked himself awake, looked at the clock and silently groaned. 5:03. On a Saturday. After a late night spent finishing paperwork on a case. Between the weird dreams and the overall soreness in his body, he realized that the chances of him getting back to sleep were slim and none. He glanced over at Bones, she was sound asleep, so no opportunity for a pleasant diversion before the kids woke. He sat up gingerly, trying to get out of bed without waking his wife. His feet hit the floor and he winced. He grabbed his socks and headed towards the kitchen.

He ran through his morning stretches while the coffee was brewing. After completing his morning routine he realized it was going to be one of THOSE days, where he would be slightly stiff and sore all day. Checking the weather on his phone confirmed it - cold and damp. He sighed, might as well skip the morning run, it would just be slow and painful and irritate him. Those days were happening more often now. As the t-shirts said, getting old was not for sissies. He reached for a mug and noticed the twinge in his stomach where the bullet had been lodged 2 months earlier. When Jared died. It was basically healed, but the doctors had said the muscle damage would take a while, and certain motions might always be noticeable. Booth had mentally added it to his "list of body parts that mostly worked". It was getting to be a long list.

He mentally shook himself. Don't think about your aging body. Don't think about your little brother. Think about something else. He drifted back to the case - a combination of alcohol and jealousy-nothing too out of the ordinary. However, both the victim and the murderer were under 25. Both had children. Many lives ruined in an instant. Sometimes he hated his job. Okay Booth, he thought, shift gears again.

The Flyers had lost last night, the Steelers were not going to make the playoffs, he had budget reports to do next week, and he had a dentist appointment and a meeting with Hacker on Monday. He was saved from trying to find a cheery train of thought by the sound of Hank crying out.

He headed towards the nursery. The poor kid was getting new teeth and not happy about it. He changed the diaper, recognized the "I'm not sleepy" look in his eyes and carried his son to the kitchen to warm a bottle. While he was bouncing Hank, Christine shuffled in. In spite of his mood he smiled. The girl had a wicked case of bed head.

"Daddy, I woke up and I don't know why." Christine whined. Normally she was a pretty happy kid, but right now was not one of those times. He figured she was about 2 disappointments away from a melt down. She buried her face in his leg. He reached down to tousle her hair.

"I'm sorry pumpkin. How about some hot cocoa?"

She nodded into his leg. And then came the muffled request "And a story? You didn't read me one last night."

"And a story. You're right I owe you one for missing bedtime. Why don't you go pick one out?"

The bottle was ready, the cocoa was warmed and poured into a not quite accurately named no spill cup, and Christine had a few books in one hand and her bunny in the other. The trio headed to the man cave and the recliner. Soon they were snuggled in under a blanket. Booth glanced at the book selections. One of the options was 'Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day'. Perfect. Since Christine was laying on one of his arms, she was given the job of page turning. He started to read.

Near the end of the book he realized that his page turner was no longer up to the job. No matter, as this was at least the 101st reading, he filled in the last couple of pages himself. He looked down at his son and saw that his eyelids were at half mast too. The bottle was still in his mouth but, Hank was not terribly interested in it any longer. He thought longingly of the coffee he had brewed but not poured in the kitchen, and realized it was just going to have to wait. He was the daddy Barcalounger for the time being. He pulled his kids closer.

Bones woke up and stretched. Frowning at the lack of a husband, she glanced at the clock and saw that it was 8:30. Ok, no wonder he's up, she thought, we never get to sleep that late anymore. Feeling very refreshed, she threw on a robe and headed into the kitchen. There she was puzzled by the presence of a very full pot of coffee and the absence of any noise. Pouring two mugs she went in search of her family.

She smiled when she found them. All three were sound asleep. Booth was breathing deeply with a half smile on his face. Hank had his face pressed into his daddy's left shoulder and had left an impressive amount of drool on his father's shirt. His discarded, but not empty bottle had somehow made it to Booth's shoulder and had leaked a bit on his neck. Christine was on the other side, in the crook of his arm with her face curled towards her brother, and her bunny under her arm. From her hand dangled a cup, which based on the stain on Booth's chest had contained a chocolate drink.

She watched for a moment. Booth's eyes opened and met hers. They smiled. She walked in, set his coffee on the table next to the chair, leaned in, kissed him and whispered "Good morning".

"It's a great morning Bones" he whispered back.