(In the future)

I don't own Bones.

Ooooooooooooooo

The meeting a little too long and unnecessary as far as Booth was concerned, he leaned his elbow on the table in front of him and rested his chin on his hand. The Deputy Director was on one of his tears about incompetence and carelessness by some of his agents and Booth knew that if Agent Bennett was standing in front of him at that moment, he'd kick his ass.

Bennett had chased after an armed assailant who had fled the Capital One Bank after the bank robber had tried to hold it up and the agent had done it without a bullet proof vest on and without backup. The agent had lost sight of the assailant and when he'd turned a corner found the man standing in the middle of the alley facing him waiting for him. Before Bennett could fire his gun, the assailant had fired at him and missed. Bennet fired back and missed too hitting a police cruiser sitting at the end of the alley narrowly missing a police officer. "Sir, Bennett is going back to Quantico for a refresher course and he'll have to recertify to get his weapon back. I'm pretty sure he knows he's in trouble . . . I'd like to go over the Paulsen case if you're ready." Booth had a pile of work on his desk and this meeting was getting longer and longer.

"The embarrassing part is the assailant got away by running past Bennett and hit him on the head with his gun as he ran by. The press thinks that was very funny." Angry that Bennett's fiasco had been mentioned in the news the previous evening and again that morning, Deputy Director Bishop frowned at his Assistant Deputy Director. "Booth . . . okay, I've said enough about Bennett. Just make sure everyone knows that the next screw up like that might lead to a transfer to the smallest, coldest field office I can find . . . Has the dress code for the FBI changed?"

Not sure what his boss was talking about, Booth lowered his arm and leaned back against his chair. "What?"

Pointing at Booth's right wrist, Booth laughed. "I never picked you for a pink and baby blue bracelet kind of guy."

His attention drawn to his wrist, Booth looked at it then laughed. "My kids were making beaded bracelets last night and I made the mistake of telling my daughter that her bracelet was the nicest one I'd ever seen . . . I'm now the proud owner of the bracelet. I tried to leave it at home this morning, but Christine grabbed it from my dresser and handed it to me. What could I do?" He ran his fingers over the bracelet. "The things we do for our kids."

Amused, Bishop nodded his head. "I still have the necklace my daughter made me ten years ago. I had to wear it for a few months. If I didn't she'd get upset. Lucky for me, I could hide it under my shirt when I was at work."

Tapping his bracelet, Booth smiled. "Bones has one too. Hank made it for her. Hers is purple and black. I'd rather have that one, but . . . I guess pink and blue beads aren't too bad. It could be worse. It could have been made of feathers or dry macaroni. Agent Park had to wear a black dyed macaroni bracelet his son made him for weeks until he 'accidentally' broke it." Booth laughed and used his fingers to make quote marks to emphasize the word 'accidentally' in his sentence.

"Yeah, the things we do for our kids." In a better mood, Bishop proceeded to talk about the Paulsen case.

Ooooooooooooooo

A short story. Thanks for continuing to read my stories. I appreciate it.