(Dirt)
This a continuation of chapter 80.
I don't own Bones.
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Driving up onto the driveway, Booth stopped his truck in front of the garage and used his remote to open the garage door. Waiting for the door to finish rising, Booth was surprised to see his daughter sitting on the floor near the door leading into the house.
Slowly standing, Christine brushed the seat of her pants and stalked over to the side of the garage where she waited for her father to park his truck.
Relieved to have found her so quickly, Booth pulled out his phone and called his wife, "Hey I found her. She was in the garage." Ending the call, he exited the truck and stood next to it, "Okay, why are you hiding out here? Your mother is worried sick about you. She's been looking for you for the last two hours. She even walked over to the library to see if you were over there."
Embarrassed, the eleven year old ran across the room and threw her arms around his waist, "Henry locked me in here. He wanted Doritos and I told him he couldn't have any. I told him I'd get some popsicles from the freezer out here and when I came in here he locked me in. I couldn't find the remote so I couldn't raise the garage door."
Patting her shoulder, Booth rolled his eyes, "Honey, don't be mad okay? Little brothers can do some really dumb things, believe me I know."
Tearful, Christine released her father and looked down at her pants, "Look at my new pants Daddy. They're filled with dirt. Henry is such a brat."
Rubbing her shoulder, Booth dutifully looked at the light brown blotches on her clothes, "Yeah, well soap will take care of that. They aren't ruined." His gaze moving to the door leading into the house, Booth informed her, "I'm going to get a spare key made for that door and tape it under the work bench. That way if this ever happens again you can get out. You really scared your mother and me. I left work to come help her look for you."
Her cheeks flaming red, Christine huffed, "Is it too late to send Henry back to where he came from?"
Chuckling, Booth patted her shoulder, "I'm afraid so pumpkin. He has a wicked sense of humor and we're just going to have to learn to live with it I guess."
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To be continued. Any good?