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Huddled in his coat, Booth knocked on the door and then turned to look at Brennan who was jumping up and down a little. Shivering, she watched steam rising from her mouth, punctuating her words as she spoke. "I'm definitely not dressed for the weather."

Puffs of steam accentuating his own words, Booth complained, "We should have stayed home." Coughing, he shook his head. "It's too damn cold to be out here."

Before she could reply, the door opened and Lester stepped back. "Man, you two get in here. I have never seen it this cold on Thanksgiving Day. I mean cold yeah, but not this damn cold."

Hustling Brennan into the house, Booth slammed the door shut behind him and started to cough again. Fighting to catch his breath, he finally stopped and glowered at his wife. "Next Thanksgiving, we're staying home. We could have cooked our own damn turkey."

While he helped Brennan take her coat off, Booth heard some laughter in the next room. "I thought you said this was going to be just a family dinner, Lester."

Taking Brennan and Booth's coat, Lester pointed at the living room. "I did . . . It is. It's just Harris and Susan."

His hand grasping Brennan's hand, Booth led the way into the living room.

"Well, it's about time, Booth." Shaking his head, Harris complained, "We were beginning to wonder if you two were going to make it."

Briskly rubbing his hands together, Booth still felt cold. "We got caught up in a traffic tie up. Why are you here? I thought you and Susan go to Knoxville every year for Thanksgiving."

Before Harris could answer, Susan interjected, "My sister got divorced this year and she took her kids and my parents on a cruise for the holidays to celebrate. Morris and I couldn't go because he gets sea-sick."

"Aw, come on, Susan." Pleading with his wife, Harris placed his arm around her shoulders. "I did say you could go without me, didn't I? I can't stand boats. You would not have wanted to see me throw up for a week, believe me."

Kissing him on the cheek, Susan assured him. "No, I absolutely wouldn't."

Pleased that Booth and Brennan had made it, Claire carried her son into the living room for them to see. "Look who's here, Bobby. You're Uncle Seeley is here."

A twinkle in his eyes, Booth held out his hands. "Hey, let me see him."

Carefully handing the baby over to Booth, Claire beamed with pride and affection. "He just woke up from his nap."

Holding the baby in the crook of his arm, Booth placed his index finger on the baby's chin. "He's a handsome son of a gun Claire and he's growing like a weed."

Since they were talking about her favorite subject, Claire leaned over to see her baby staring at Booth. "He is, he's gaining weight and his rash finally cleared up."

Besotted with the baby, Booth stared at his Godson. "I think he looks just like you Claire."

Certain that wasn't true, Lester objected. "Hey, he has my brown eyes and brown hair. He looks like me too."

Snorting, Harris shook his head. "God Lester, a little insecure are we?"

Her hand resting on the top of her son's head, Claire assured Lester. "They're just pulling your leg, Lester. It's obvious Bobby looks just like you."

Appeased, Lester smirked at Harris. "See."

Rolling his eyes, Harris took a drink of his beer. "Yeah, yeah, Junior." Turning to look at Brennan, the FBI agent asked her, "So, Temperance, how's your book coming along?"

Finally warm, Brennan moved over to where Harris and his wife Susan were standing and smiled at them."I'm right on schedule. I should be finished with my first draft before Christmas."

Happy to hear that, she touched Brennan's arm and smiled. "That's wonderful. I'm looking forward to reading it when you have it published. Your last book was a real knuckle biter. I just couldn't put it down once I started reading it."

Puzzled, Brennan glanced at Booth who translated. "She thinks it was full of suspense."

"Thank you." Adding the phrase to her mental list of slang, Brennan assured her, "Yes and this one will also be a knuckle biter."

Bobby waving his fists in the air, gurgled which caused Booth to lean lean closer towards the child and make a goofy face at him. "You're a happy baby aren't you little man?"

Brennan watched Booth interact with the child and felt a sense of wistfulness that the infant wasn't her baby. Sitting down on the couch, she continued to stare at Booth as he tried to entertain the infant.

Susan, noticing Brennan's sadness, sat down next to her and quietly asked her, "Is everything alright? You seem . . . sad."

Turning to look at Susan, Brennan confided in her. "I've been thinking about having a baby lately, but with Booth's health problems I don't want to add any more stress on him than he already has. He's walking a lot better and only has a slight limp now, but his breathing hasn't improved for the last two months. It may never get better than it already is."

Susan flicked her eyes towards Booth and then back at Brennan. "Temperance, Booth loves kids. I don't think having a baby would be stressful at all. If anything it would probably help him. It would give him another reason to try to stick around and not leave us before his time."

Confused, Brennan asked softly, "Are you referring to dying?"

Nodding her head, Susan gave her a sad smile. "Yes that's what I mean. Everyone needs a reason to stay and you're Booth's reason. He loves you so much, but a baby would be another reason for him to try to get better and to stay here with us."

She had never considered that. Staring at Booth, Brennan nodded her head. "You may be right. I hadn't thought of it like that."

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That evening, Booth was in the kitchen popping some popcorn when Brennan entered the room. Walking over to the counter, she leaned against it. "Bobby is a very healthy child."

Turning from the microwave, Booth smiled at his wife. "He sure is. He's got a strong grip for someone his age."

"Do you remember just before you were diagnosed with a brain tumor that I wanted a baby?" Anxiously, Brennan clasped her hands together. "I of course decided against it when you were hospitalized and had the tumor removed."

Puzzled, Booth fixed his gaze upon his partner. "Yeah, I remember. It was kind of a messy time for both of us."

Biting her upper lip, Brennan nodded her head. "What if I told you that I'd like to have a baby? Do you think you'd be interested in having anymore children?"

Surprised, Booth moved over to where Brennan was standing and placed his hands on her hips. "Hey, do you really want a baby?"

Cautiously, Brennan looked into his warm brown eyes. "Yes."

A broad grin on his face, Booth pulled her into his embrace. "That's great, Bones. I was hoping some day you'd say you wanted a baby, but I didn't want to push you." Kissing her, Booth confessed, "I've wanted to talk to you about having a baby, but I know my health has been pretty bad, I mean with the brain tumor and now my lung and . . . anyway, I didn't want to pressure you, but if you want to have a baby then I'm all for it. Since I already have a son I'd sure like to have a daughter. Maybe a min-Bones."

Placing her hands around the back of his neck, Brennan kissed him. "I can't guarantee a daughter, but I'm certainly willing to try to have one for you."

Booth laughed and wiggled his eyebrows. "I'm certainly game to help you get that baby. As often and as long as you need me to."

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