(Writer's choice – Hockey)

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I don't own Bones.

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A knock on the door the last thing he wanted to hear, Booth tore his gaze from the TV and looked at his daughter, "Christine, go answer the door."

Reluctantly, Christine stood up and slowly walked backwards over to the door, her eyes glued to the TV. A knock sounding again, Booth barked, "Christine . . . answer the door."

Irritated that she was being forced to miss some of the hockey game, the girl turned and ran towards the front door. Opening it, she ordered her visitor, "Come in and close the door behind you." Leaving her Uncle to fend for himself, Christine fled back to the living room and threw herself at the couch, landing beside her father who was raptly watching the game.

Sauntering past the kitchen, Hodgins held up his hand and waved it, "Hey, Booth."

His eyes locked on the TV, Booth called out, "Yeah."

Not sure what had Booth's and Christine's attention, Hodgins entered the living room and walked behind the couch. Looking at the television screen, the entomologist sighed, "Hockey."

Her eyes just as anchored to the television as her father, Christine corrected him, "The Stanley Cup."

Rubbing his chin, Hodgins informed them, "Angela and Michael Vincent went to some kid's birthday party and I got bored. I thought you guys might want to go to the movies with me."

Shaking her head, Christine choked, "A movie? No way, Dad and I are watching the Stanley Cup." Poking her father in the side, she prompted him, "Right Dad?"

Not sure what was going on and not caring, Booth nodded his head, "Yeah, whatever she said."

Curious, Hodgins moved around the couch and sat down beside his God-daughter, "Where's your Mom and Henry?"

Her irritation growing at all the interruptions, Christine tried to control her temper, "They went to some lecture at the Jeffersonian. . . . Black holes or the Black Sea or something."

The Flyers scoring, Booth stood up and shouted, "Goal . . . yes damn it . . . take that you bastards."

Shocked at the language, Hodgins shook his head, "Booth . . . Booth little ears."

Still not sure what was going on, Booth turned to look at his friend, "What the hell do you want Hodgins? The game is on, go away."

Sniggering, Christine leaned closer to her uncle and whispered loudly, "The swear jar makes a lot of money during hockey season."

Curious, Hodgins laughed, "Who gets the money?"

Her attention moving back on the game, Christine answered him, "Mom of course."

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