A/N: Hey guys, it's Kimmy. Long time, no talk. We know its been forever and we're not going to bore you with long explanations so here is the abbreviated version. For awhile, we didn't know if we wanted to continue after last season ended to avoid being too much like the show however we eventually missed it too much and had to continue. Also, as of the last few weeks, Kelsey and I have planned out and outlined the rest of the story, which (hopefully) should make it easier for us to update more than once a year. As always, thanks so much for the loyalty and the interest in our story. We hope you enjoy this chapter, we think its pretty good. :)

"New house, new house, going to a new house, gunna have a pool, a real big pool, all to myself in our new house," Parker sang aloud as he emptied the contents of his toy chest into a large, cardboard box.

He had been watching his parents pack for the last few days, so he knew exactly how to do it. Bigger stuff goes on the bottom. Smaller stuff goes on top. Stuff that breaks has to have something soft around it.

He was so, so, excited to move. He loved having two rooms, but now he was going to get one that was much bigger, and Angela was going to help paint it whatever color he wanted, and he was getting a huge backyard.

And the pool! He told everyone about the pool. How there were stairs to the shallow end and the deep end was so deep that you couldn't even swim to the bottom without a scuba suit. There was a diving board and even a hot tub for when daddy's back hurts. It was going to be so awesome. He couldn't wait to live there. That's why he decided to help his parents by packing his own belongings.

He was attempting to fold the box flaps in that special way that closes it all up without tape when he heard footsteps coming towards his room. He looked up to see his father standing in the doorway wearing a paint-splattered shirt. He had been doing touch ups in the apartment all day, whatever that meant.

"What are you doing, bub?"

"Packing, duh," he informed.

"Your mother doesn't like that word," Booth reminded as he approached him.

Parked nodded. "I know. She says we shouldn't assume people are as smart as us. I'm sorry." He tried folding the box closed once more, but he couldn't get the flaps down the right way. He grunted a bit and started bending them with more force.

"Let me help," his father insisted. Booth kneeled on the hardwood floor next to him and easily folded the flaps over one another.

"Show me how to do that. I wanna do it by myself."

"How come?"

The little boy sighed. He wanted to use the duh word again, but he didn't. "The faster our stuff is in boxes, the faster I get my pool."

Booth patted his son on his shoulder. "It's almost December, Park. You're not going to be going swimming for a few months."

Parker frowned for a moment, but then a memory reignited his spirit. "Remember that time we were watching TV and it showed all those people jumping into the ocean at the beach in the winter? They did the Polar Plunge! We can do that all the time."

Booth laughed loudly. "Unless you wanna get sick, I don't think that's a good idea."

Parker looked at his father pointedly. "You don't get sick from being cold. Mommy says that's a myth. Viruses make you sick."

Booth groaned and quietly muttered, "One house. Two squints."

She had never liked moving. As a teenager, it always seemed like she would have to move foster homes just as soon as she had become familiar enough with a place to even begin considering it as a possibility for home. Every place has new smells and new colors, new people and new sounds and she never had enough time for these things to stop being new.

Of course her current situation was much different than relocating to another foster home, but, as she felt the cardboard under her fingers and heard packing peanuts shuffle around inside of it as she placed it on top of her coffee table, she could not help the feeling of dislodgment from creeping back.

Looking around her living room, Brennan saw Moroccan vases, vintage Italian key bowls and other decorative touches that were placed to accent the furniture in an aesthetically pleasing way. She saw things that existed to be used and things that existed to sit on shelves. Not to mention all of the toys that had finally found homes that were both accessible and incapable of being tripped over. Multiple trinkets, as her father called them. Chotchkies, as a magazine article once wrote. Crap, as Booth likened it. These things sat in a balance that had been reached through time and ample living. Even though her moving was now both willing and enthusiastic, she still felt bad for disrupting that balance.

She sighed, opened the cardboard box and began to dislodge the objects from their shelved home in the entertainment set she had purchased to make her television sit more naturally within the décor of her room. It was Angela's idea. Her strategy was habitual - remove, wrap, place in box, cushion –and her thoughts centered around where all of the new things would go and if they should even be going in the first place.

This tedium remained stagnant for the first five or so objects until she found herself holding a small pig figurine that, before now, she had forgotten sat on the piece of furniture. Jasper. She smiled. A damn pig figurine made Temperance Brennan smile. She couldn't even say that that surprised her anymore. She was dating Booth, she had become the mother to his son and they were now moving into a house together. Smiling over pigs was the least significant change in her life.

These changes were for the good, though. She was so happy. For the first time since she was a child, she came home every day to a man who loved her instead of takeout, paperwork and unresolved sexual tension. Booth was there to hold her when she need to be held, to talk to her when she needed conversation, and to go to bed with her when she needed something of a more carnal nature. For some reason, looking at Jasper, Brennan could smile knowing that all of the changes between herself and Booth, though drastic, were going to work out. This move wasn't a move in order to run or in order to find a place that she fit; it was to find a place that fit her and the family she had built. She never thought she could have this, to be honest she never really thought it was actually a probable reality. Somehow, though, Booth had made that impossible reality into truth. She was lucky to have someone as stubborn and generous as him in her life. She was glad he chose to give an imaginary pet pig to her.

Now she wasn't a woman to make generalizations or to accept something as truth without ample evidence, so a miniature pig providing all the proof that she needed to know that her relationship with Booth and their future together were going to be incredible was worrisome, yet true.

"Maybe I should see a doctor," she muttered to herself before giggling.

Regardless of her possible sudden mental hysteria, Brennan now looked around the room and saw opportunity in the things whose job was to sit prettily in the shelves. In the toys and the vases and the trinkets and the crap. No longer were they being displaced begrudgingly, knowing that their next place was only temporary as well. They were now being given a new place that could be called home from day one. A revamp to the life that, although being acceptable, had not been extraordinary. In a new living room, they could be extraordinary.

As she continued her work of - remove, wrap, place in box, cushion - Brennan now smiled, the bad memories of her past trampled under the feet of Jasper the miniature pig figurine and replaced with thoughts of living room that she shared with a man with whom she could share more of her life than just her living space.

Booth closed the flaps on a cardboard box with Random Closet Things written in black sharpie crookedly along the one side. Patting the top of the box to check if it was secure, Booth muttered, "Finally," and scooped it up in his arms. The box wasn't too heavy considering it only contained a few random items that didn't belong in a specific place however he still needed to pause in the hallway to readjust his grip to prevent it all crashing to the ground.

"What do you have in there?" Brennan called from his kitchen, his pause for readjustment placing him right in her line of sight.

Booth scrambled, knowing she wasn't going to like what was inside. He had hoped he could sneak the box under her nose and get it into the new house without her complaints. "Nothing really, just some extra stuff that I found on the shelf of my closet." Hopefully that was vague enough without seeming conspicuous.

Brennan placed the medium sized dish that had been in her hands inside of the box next to her on the kitchen counter and started to move through the hallway towards Booth.

"I need to know what's in there so I can check it off on my inventory list." She spoke as she walked, somewhat quickly, and stopped just shy of running into him. As she stilled her hands fell to her waist and her eyes looked expectantly at the object in Booth's hands.

"You have an inventory list? No, wait, I'm not surprised." Booth panicked slightly, his eyes flickering from Brennan to the box. "Just give me the list, I'll check it off myself."

Brennan rolled her eyes, laughing internally at the idea of letting Booth anywhere near her organizational tactics. Moving quickly, she moved her right arm towards the box's lid and flicked it open.

Brennan scoffed. Booth groaned. She dug her hands into the box and pulled out a plastic yellow hat adorned with tubes and two cylindrical holders on either side of the crest.

"Booth – your beer hat is not coming with us. No."

"So your weirdo foreign art stuff gets to come and I can't have one measly hat that allows me to drink beer hands-free?"

"Precisely. My 'weirdo foreign art stuff' is tasteful."

He snatched the hat out of her grip possessively, half afraid she would throw it away on the spot. "But my beer hat is useful! It doesn't just sit there on a table silently intimidating visitors. It lets me have beer…without having it hold it...or put it down somewhere and come get it every time I want a drink. This is the height of invention."

"The height of invention?" Brennan laughed derisively.

"Yes." Booth smiled, recognizing her mocking. "And if the hat goes, I go."

"You are a crazy person."

"Now, you know, if you don't start being nice soon you are going to lose all chance of ever getting to use this hat…and you know you want to."

Brennan ignored him. "You can keep it." Booth's mouth began to form into a silent cheer but Brennan pointed her finger into his face, merely an inch from his nose. "But it isn't going to be sitting on the coffee table or anything. You keep it in the closet and bring it out only when you are going to use it or show it off to your male friends."

"I suppose those seem like acceptable terms." Booth said, squinting his eyes and nodding his head tightly to look serious. However, a smile twitched at the side of his mouth, betraying him.

Brennan shook her head in amusement, taking the hat from where it had been sitting in Booth's free hand and crouching down to place it back into the box that was now sitting patiently on the floor of the hallway.

"Is there a miniature basket in there?"

"It's a door basketball hoop. You hang it on the back of your door and shoot a little basketball into it. My record is 53 straight made shots."

"I am moving in with two children."

"It won't go in the bedroom. I'll put it in Parker's room and we can play it far from your disapproving eyes, alright? You'll never see a single mini-basketball. " Booth flung his now free arms over Brennan's shoulders and placed a firm but quick kiss on her lips.

"Fine." Brennan drew out with a smile on her face, returning his quick kiss with a slightly longer, more lingering one before removing herself from his shoulders and picking up the discarded box.

"You're lucky you're physically appealing, Booth. Otherwise, the fact that you spent enough time shooting little balls into a hoop on the door to create record for it would be rather concerning." Brennan turned, carrying the box into the living area to place it with the rest of the boxes that had been packed that morning.

Booth cringed, placing his hands over his heart, mocking as if she had shot him. However he quickly shrugged it off. "You know what? I can accept that."

A large oak door swung open with a bang as a large cardboard box with two sets of sweat pant clad legs wobbling beneath it carried it through the door frame. Barely five feet inside the hall, the box fell to the floor and one woman began to massage her forearm lightly.

"What the hell was in there, Bren?" Angela said slightly wincing as she began to move her kneading along her arm. "…And I swear, if it is a box full of Mongolian Tribal Skull Candles or something you owe me a drink because that's just gross."

Brennan shook her head and laughed at Angela's comment as she leaned against the doorframe that she had just walked through. "Firstly, I have no knowledge of the existence of any variety of Mongolian Tribal Skull Candle." She paused, appraising Angela's raised eyebrows as a sign that she had been joking, before continuing on. "And secondly, the box merely contains a small percentage of my office and paper supplies."

"Small percentage?" Angela laughed and released her arm from the massage, leaning against the doorframe opposite of her friend. "I don't think I knew what I was getting into when you asked me to help you move. I believe the legal term for that is entrapment."

"Entrapment? I recall a conversation in which you forcefully demanded that you help decorate and organize the new house because my previous 'gloom and doom' theme was a little too harsh for a 'family home'."

"Decorating and carrying boxes are two entirely different things, Sweetie."

Both women laughed. As the laughter faded away, observation and appreciation replaced it. Angela's eyes slowly took in the entrance way that she stood in, it was not the first time that she had seen this room, for Brennan had taken pictures upon her own request, but it was the first time that she stood inside of it. It was absolutely gorgeous. Brennan, who was watching her friend's face as it analyzed her surroundings.

"Isn't it great? It is not only extremely aesthetically pleasing, but its size and open rooms also very conventional and functional for a household with a young male child."

"Yes, Sweetie, all of those things." Angela smiled. "Honestly, I'm happy you found a gorgeous place like this at all, after all the horror stories you told me. I was beginning to think you were making things up."

Brennan's forehead creased with concentration as she leaned forward and ran her finger alongside one of the boxes, avoiding the full reality of Angela's comment. "The whole process wasn't exceedingly exhausting however there were some moments that I wish we could have avoided."

"Yeah, you really could have done without that whole 'Realtor hits on prospective buyer, prospective buyer's boyfriend becomes protective and, after a short verbal exchange, punches realtor in the face, prospective buyer must consequently find a new realty company entirely' thing." Angela laughed as she pushed herself forward from the doorframe, so she could see her friend's face.

"Accurate point." Brennan conceded seriously, yet a small smile gave her away. "I must say it was quite arousing to see Booth so protective. However, I did not anticipate it coming to an actual physical altercation."

Angela snorted. "Have you ever met Booth? Dark brown hair, masculine features, looks for any and all opportunities to apply that masculinity in a violent or sexual way? Geez, you'd think I was the one sleeping with him…"

"You say that like you wouldn't. Given the proper circumstances of course." The woman broke out into laughter, both thoroughly enjoying the chance to talk and joke with one another.

"In all seriousness though," Brennan continued once the laughter subsided and she had regained steady control over her breathing "The power that he can unleash still catches me off guard sometimes."

"Considering he created a pact with his son to deny any possible houses that did not have pretty little pool sitting in the back yard, I do not find your surprise that unbelievable."

"He was trying to give his son the things he was never able to have himself, I find that to be incredibly…" Angela placed her finger to Brennan's lips, succeeding in silencing her explanation.

"Brennan, the man just wanted a pool. Stop lying to yourself." Again the women began to laugh. Suddenly, a large bang emanated from the room above where the woman stood and both of their heads shot up as if they would be able to see through the ceiling to ascertain the source of the crash.

Brennan quickly lowered her gaze knowingly, however, Angela remained staring at the ceiling for a moment longer. "What are those two knuckleheads up to again?"

"Booth is finishing up building the bed frame for our bed and Parker insisted on being his assistant."

"Well knowing those two, the little guy is probably going to need our help making sure his father doesn't get hurt." Angela threw her arm around Brennan's shoulder and pressed their sides together in small hug. "So what do you say we go finish grabbing these creepy boxes of yours and then go provide some supervision to the bed building process."

"I suppose the term supervision suggests that we will not be assisting in the building." Brennan said with a smile as the two friends squeezed through the doorframe without removing themselves from their side-embrace.

"Of course not, we're women. We're around to look pretty, bring refreshments and offer criticism to ensure the job is done to our satisfaction. I obviously have taught you nothing…"

Their faces covered by an unrealistically large sheet of paper embroidered with blue diagrams and some sort of Asian characters, Booth and Parker laid on a mattress that sat on the floor bordered by the partially constructed frame of a bed.

"Maybe you could tell Mommy you wanna camp instead. You can borrow my tent, Daddy." Parker said, puffs of exhalation propelling the unfolded instruction manual from his mouth. The Booth men had spent over two hours unsuccessfully trying to decipher unhelpful diagrams and small pictures that were meant to represent words, the only signs of their effort in four thin slabs of wood that looked as if they were securely held together.

Booth ignored his son's suggestion out of frustration. "The next time Mommy tries to convince me to import anything that I'll have to build from another country, you tell me I'm crazy, okay Park?"

Confusion showed on Parker's face yet he nodded in agreement anyway, understanding his father's need for reassurance. "Alrighty, Daddy."

The two boys laid there in silence for a couple more moments before Parker gripped his fists around the directions, pulled them off of himself and his father and sat up. "Get up, Daddy! We can't let a bed beat us!" He shot off the ground towards the toolbox that had sat near their feet, got onto his knees and began to rummage through it. Booth sat up slowly, chuckling as he watched his son digging through his tools with furrowed brows.

"What are you looking for, bub?" Booth moved towards his son and gently removed his hands from his work.

"The hammer and the screw turner-thing, please." As Parker spoke he relaxed back to sit on his feet and began to bounce slightly. Booth reached into his tools, grabbing his hammer, a large screwdriver and a smaller one for Parker to use. As he handed Parker his screwdriver he wondered quickly whether or not a boy of six should know enough about tools to correctly name a screwdriver but the excitement on his face upon receiving his own tool quickly wiped those thoughts from Booth's mind. With those thoughts gone, his irrational bed rage returned and was apparently visible on his face.

Parker stopped bouncing, stood on his knees, and placed his hands on his father's shoulders encouragingly. "Come on, Daddy! We can do it! It's only a bed. Now that we have a real house we're gunna have to do grown up things like build beds. We gotta suck it up!"

His enthusiasm made Booth laugh out loud. "Alright, Boss. Let's get to it." However, as Parker ventured to retrieve the forgotten instruction manual, Booth grabbed his arm and for a moment studied just how much bigger his own hand was than his sons.

Booth raised his eyes towards Parker's and smiled "You're happy we have a house now aren't you, kiddo?"

"Duh," he suddenly paused remembering the rule about that word. "I mean yeah, Daddy! It's awesome. It's so much bigger than the places we used to live! There are stairs inside and a whole room just for eating in and my bike could go so fast down that hallway and there are trees outside and we have a pool, pools are so awesome, and there is room for us to play ball just like we used to at the park and I saw a kid like me outside next door when we came in and he had a dog, maybe we could even get a dog..."

Booth ruffled Parker's hair. "Slow down, Park. It's going to be awhile until we are making any new additions to our family. Also...Mommy is not going to let you ride your new bike inside the house."

Parker humphed, knowingly defeated. "Well, if I can't ride my bike inside I'm going to need something to carry me around. This house is so biiiig!"

"Good try, mister. It's you, me and Mommy for now. Maybe, though, if you're nice to me, I'll give you a ride or two downstairs if its really that big of a hassle." Booth wrapped his arms around his son and picked him up, spinning him in the air. Parker squealed in delight and stretched his arms out like wings while Booth carefully avoided running into the loosely assembled bed-frame that he had momentarily forgotten laid dangerously elevated off the floor near his feet.

"Giving rides on the job, Booth?" A female voice suddenly came from the doorway, "With that habit it's amazing you two get anything done at work."

"Angela!" Brennan groaned as she entered the room, only catching sight of Booth placing his son safely on the ground. She quickly looked around the boys' feet, studying the state of the bed frame. "Booth, you've been up here for at least two hours."

"And?" Booth said exasperatedly.

"Well, given the clear steps outlined in the manual and the approximate time one would need to complete those steps then..."

"Clear steps, my ass. You get over here and do it, then."

Angela's eyes widened and flicked between Parker and her squabbling friends. Someone had to give them a moment without the tool-belted boy to...diffuse the tension. "Oh, boy. I could really use a lemonade right now. Parker, could you come show me where the glasses are?"

"Sure, Angela." He turned to his father and handed him the screwdriver that he had been tightly holding on to. "Don't break anything while I'm gone."

Despite his frustration, Booth had to smile at that one. "I'll try not to, bub. I can't make any promises though."

With that, Parker grabbed Angela's hand and led her out the door towards the stairs. Before Angela was completely out of sight, she winked heartily and laughed. "Come on, tool man. Let's get some refreshments."

As Angela and Parker descended the stairs and ventured through the house towards the kitchen, their footsteps slowly quieted and left Booth and Brennan in silence. It was Booth's frustration that finally broke it.

"Well, Ms. Clear steps and approximate time, why don't you try building a bed with this." Booth handed her the instruction manual that had given him so much trouble.

"Oh, Chinese. I only really know conversational Mandarin but there is a chance it could help in this..."

"Give that back." Booth swatted the manual out of her hands and dropped it onto the ground. He chuckled somewhat darkly. "Of course, you know Chinese. Tell me, do the Chinese speak about tables conversationally often?"

"Booth, sarcasm is hardly going to build this bed."

Silence retook the room.

"Why is this bothering you so much? It's just a bed and I can help you decode the language."

"That's exactly it! It's just a bed." Booth pouted and his anger began to deflate. "How can something so comfy be so evil?"

Brennan laughed. "Well, if you believe the bed is possessed with evil spirits then maybe we should wait until tomorrow to continue construction."

"Bones...I don't actually..."

Brennan sighed, accustomed to explaining her attempts at joking. "I know. You taught me that using humor to bring light to stressed situations is often an easy and successful tactic so I figured this instance would be a good opportunity to."

"Okay. Yes, good joke, Bones." Booth's mouth shaped into a smile for the first time since Brennan came upstairs.

"As I was saying, considering you believe the bed to be possessed, it might be a good idea to leave the bed alone and create a makeshift bed somewhere else in the house this evening. After all, it is quite large."

Booth smiled even wider, his frustration beginning to melt away. "That's a great idea, Bones! We can unpack a bunch of pillows and blankets and have a sleepover with Parker in the living room tonight. He'll love it!" He pulled her in for a hug and held her tightly to his chest. Almost instantly, he could feel her body moving as she breathed and he was reminded of something. Something important.

Booth pulled away slightly, just far enough to look into the eyes of the woman he was embracing. "You know, Bones, we'll need to finish building soon...beds aren't only for sleeping."

Brennan grinned, in the sideways way that never failed to make Booth's pants slightly tighter and leaned up to whisper in his ear. "Well, Booth. I see no problem considering sex is not only for beds either." She heard a low rumble in the back of his throat. Her lips puckered softly under his ear. She kissed the spot twice, before quietly speaking, "It's for showers." He groaned one more. She kissed again. "And counters." He continued making the delicious noises she loved, so she pressed forward, peppering the side of his jaw and neck with small, teasing pecks, all while listing her favorite places besides the bedroom to make love. "Living room couches, laundry rooms, hot tubs."

Before she could utter another word, Booth took her waist in his hands. His fingers kneaded her curves as he nudged her backwards. His mouth descended onto hers in a firm kiss, and she gasped softly when her shoulders met the hard wall.

"What about walls?" He asked in a gruff, curious voice.

Her eyes closed at their own will when his nose nuzzled against her own. "There are walls everywhere," she replied in a special soft tone of voice only Booth could extract from her lips. "That's hardly inventive."

Booth smirked as she teased. "They aren't our walls. This is our wall." He inched his feet closer to hers to eliminate the space between them. "Our bedroom wall. And if we can't christen our bedroom in a bed then we'll just have to do it somewhere else."

The contrast between Booth's warmth and the uninviting drywall behind her was starting to make her head spin. His words were forcing the raw side of her that constantly craved him to quickly rise to the surface, but on the other hand she knew that they couldn't get too carried away.

"You make a good point but-"

He cut her off with another kiss. Her hands glided up his torso and rested on his shoulders. Feel the hard muscles under his shirt reminded Brennan that they hadn't had alone time in several days, and then his tongue parted her lips, and his hips rocked against hers, and suddenly she was aching for him.

She angled her mouth over his to deepen their kiss. An involuntary moan sounded in her throat when his hands wandered upward and stroked the sensitive skin of her stomach. He didn't take his lips off of hers longer than a second. He was hardly allowing her to breathe let alone think. His fingertips brushed the edge of her bra, and she finally gathered the strength to tilt her head to the side.

"Booth," she panted. Her movement didn't deter his eager mouth. He simply focused his efforts on her neck, nibbling and sucking the skin gently. "We can't do this now."

The growl that vibrated off his lips ignited a shiver down her spine. He removed his mouth from her body and spoke a single word in her ear. "Later."

"Later," she echoed staring into his eyes, the normal brown so lust ridden it was almost black.

They exchanged a few more innocent pecks sealing their promise before Angela's voice floated into the room.

"Is it safe?"

The two adults chuckled. "How did she know?" Booth asked as he stepped away from her.

"Angela has a sense for it," Brennan answered while steadying her breathing.

Just then, Parker and the woman in question entered the room. Angela must have overheard them because she smiled and vaguely spoke, "Couple in love. New house. New bedroom. Alone time. That only adds up to one thing, Boothy."

"What thing?" Parked inquired.

Booth cleared his throat a little and kneeled down to his son's height. "To us finally being able to put this bed together."

Parker nodded and picked up his screwdriver. He was determined to get this done.

Angela stepped over to her best friend's side and smiled at the site of the two Booth men getting back to work on the bed. "He's so excited about the house," she observed. "He tried to give me another tour when we were downstairs."

Brennan didn't take her eyes off her son. He peeked up at her and smiled. "He's been lobbying for it for a while."


The bell above the door chimed as Brennan and Parker entered Party City. It was her second visit to the establishment that she realized was a popular place for parents with small children. When they stepped into the store, they were greeted by a myriad of Halloween decorations. Brennan rolled her eyes at some of them. The store management obviously had no knowledge about the origin of All Hallows Eve and its related traditions. Parker on the other hand was enthralled. He dropped her hand immediately and ran towards a grotesque zombie statue.

"This is awesome!" He admired as he stared up at the beast with wide eyes. "Can we get one for our new house?"

Brennan scowled at the creature. "I don't think that would be appropriate." Although she had always been a fan of the holiday that allowed her to dress like Wonder Woman, she didn't appreciate the part of Halloween that glorified psychotic murders and fake monsters. Now that she was a mother, she disliked the scare tactics even more. "We should pick out your costume."

She grasped his hand again, still weary about him getting too far away from her in public, and led him towards the back of the store. There were numerous people squeezed into the small area. Children were yelling at their parents. Teenagers were laughing and joking about costumes. Employees clad in orange vests were darting back and forth, speaking into black headsets and passing out costumes as fast as possible.

"There's too many people," Parker complained. "I can't see anything."

She remedied the situation by scooping him into her arms. He wrapped himself around her body and started scanning the various children's costumes displayed along the wall. He laughed and pointed to a killer clown outfit. "That one would scare daddy."

Brennan smirked imagining Booth's girlish yelp whenever a clown is in his vicinity. "You're correct. He has an extreme case of coulrophobia."

"Color what?"

"Coulrophobia. It means fear of clowns," she explained.

"Oh," he spoke before turning his attention back to his costume choices. "What about the Green Lantern? Or Captain America! Ooh, or Thor! That's a cool one, Mommy. I get a helmet and a cape!"

"I assume all of those personas are super heroes."

"Yup! They beat up all the bad guys."

Brennan made a face at they hyper masculine ensembles. "Parker, you can dress like someone who defeats bad people without wearing large, fake muscles. Those men look like they abuse steroids."

"Daddy says that guys who use those are too wimpy to do real work and that it makes your junk small," he giggled remembering the conversation he shared with his father during a past baseball game. "What's junk?"

"It's a slang term for the penis," she answered. Parker chuckled again as she pointed to another series of boy's costumes. "What about one of those? You can be a fireman or an astronaut."

"But those aren't fun costumes. Those are just jobs."

"They're respectable jobs that offer numerous benefits and large salaries."

"Mommy," Parker whined. "It's Halloween. It's supposed to be fun, not real."

She shifted him a little in her arms. He was getting so big so fast. "Okay. I concede to your point. Which costume would you like to try on?"

He beamed and pointed to another superhero.

Twenty minutes later, Parker was staring at himself in a dressing room mirror. He adjusted the mask over his eyes and started punching and kicking the air in defensive superhero moves. Brennan smiled at him. "Do you like this one?"

He suddenly made a face and started tugging on the back of the outfit. "It gives me a wedgie."

She suppressed her laugh. "Well then let's find another one."

After another half an hour of shopping, Brennan and Parker finally stepped up to the register with – in Parker's words – totally awesome wizard costume along with a couple of magical accessories and a plastic pumpkin for trick-or-treating. Brennan handed their items to the cashier and scanned her credit card. "So what are you gunna be mommy?"

"I dress as Wonder Woman every year."

The teenage boy ringing up their purchase groaned quietly at her words. She narrowed her eyes at him, and he went back to filling up the plastic bag.

"Is that why daddy likes her so much?"

Brennan knew Booth harbored that fantasy. "Yes." Parker nodded and bounced on his feet when the cashier handed him the bag with his costume. His excitement made her grin. "I anticipate Halloween being very fun this year," she commented as they strolled out of the store.

"Yeah, but it'll be better next year."

Her brows dipped together. "Why is that?"

"We'll be in our new house with a whole new neighborhood. Trick-or-treating isn't as fun in apartments, and I bet there will be a bunch more kids. I could make friends, and we could trick-or-treat in a big group, and maybe you and daddy could find other superhero mommies and daddies to be friends with, too."

Brennan hadn't experienced a Halloween like that in very long time. She had faint memories of being a child and being escorted around her neighborhood by her parents with Russ. "That sounds very suburban."

"Does that mean good?" Parker asked curiously as they approached the car.

Brennan unlocked the door and smiled encouragingly. "We'll make sure it does."

Parker returned her grin and hopped into his seat. "I wanna put on my costume before daddy gets home. Can I wear my pointy hat now?"

"As long as it doesn't hinder my rearview vision."