This is set a little bit in the future — let's estimate it's about three years after Christine is born. Also for this fic, I'm assuming Booth and Brennan are married. (Not a key part of the plot, just something I decided to do.)

Not sure how many chapters I'll do, but it won't be crazy long. It's light, so all the anti-angst readers can relax. Enjoy, and thanks for reading.

Disclaimer: I don't own Bones.


Booth and Brennan sat in Booth's office, reviewing files as they prepared for a court case with Caroline Julian. It was still early, and the cheeky prosecutor had been delayed in traffic, leaving the couple in a relatively quiet office.

"Hey Booth." An agent popped in the cracked door. "Got a couple minutes? We'd really like your input on this footage from the James case."

Booth glanced at his watch. "Yeah, sure." He stood, leaving the files spread all over his desk. "Bones, can you call me when Caroline gets here?"

She nodded, still deeply engrossed in her stack of papers and evidence photographs.

A few minutes passed, and the office was blissfully silent, save for the occasional background noise of passing agents and FBI personnel outside the door. It was so quiet that Brennan was startled when her phone rang.

"Brennan."

"BREN! I need you right now!"

"I'm preparing for a trial — I'll be at the lab in later."

"No, I need you at my house right now!"

"Ang, I …" Brennan hesitated, hearing a significant amount of noise over the line. "Is that Michael? What's going on?"

"Bren, it's an emergency! Please get here!"

"OK. Leaving now." Brennan ended the call, quickly reaching for her bag to find her keys. She quickly realized she had ridden to work with Booth, causing a momentary dilemma. She dug through the stacks of papers and files on the desk, letting out a quick "Ah hah" when she heard a jingle.

She snatched the keys, heading straight out of Booth's office.

"Dr. Brennan?" The secretary looked up, slightly startled at woman rapidly flying by her desk. "Everything alright?"

"Have Booth call me if there's questions!" Brennan called out over her shoulder.

"OK…"

Brennan hit the parking garage and broke into a brisk jog, hitting Booth's clicker repeatedly until she heard the vehicle distantly beep. Due to a phone call and paperwork during their commute, she had paid no attention to where Booth had parked them that morning.

"Finally." She found the car and climbed in, jamming the key into the ignition and throwing the SUV into reverse as she fastened her seatbelt. Guiding the vehicle to the exit, she pulled out of the garage.

Five minutes later, she hit her first red light.

"Dammit." She cursed under her breath, then reached for her phone as it rang again.

"Brennan."

"Bren, where are you!?"

"Ang, I'm on my way! I'll be there soon, I promise. I'm coming from the Hoover."

"Please hurry."

"Can you tell me what's wrong?"

"I need you to check Michael." Angela's voice was tearful. "Just hurry, OK?"

"I'll be there in five."

Another red light made it six minutes, but Brennan made it to the house in record time. She had barely parked the car when the front door open, revealed a disheveled Hodgins, who was beckoning her inside with both arms.

"What's wrong?" Brennan asked, running up the walkway to the house.

"It's his arm, or maybe his collarbone."

"Broken?"

"That's why you're here."

"Right." Brennan stepped inside, waiting for Hodgins to lead the way.

"Playroom, Dr. B."

Brennan quickly made her way through the familiar house, now hearing Angela's soothing voice amidst Michael's cries.

"Babe? She's here."

"Oh, thank God." Angela looked up at Hodgins and Brennan, relieved. She had Michael cradled in her lap, sitting on the floor against the couch. "Look, Aunt B is here."

"Hey Michael." Brennan knelt, pressing a soft kiss to the top of Michael's head. "Ang, can you tell me what happened?"

"I'm not exactly sure." Angela sniffled. "I wasn't in the room. I think he must have been playing or jumping on the couch. We heard him scream and Hodgins found him on the floor holding his arm."

Brennan nodded, glancing at Michael, who was clearly favoring his left arm. "Has he stood up? Have you been able to look at his shoulder?"

"No. I don't want to hurt him."

"Yeah." Brennan bent, trying to look Michael in the eyes. "Michael, can I see your arm for a minute?"

Michael whimpered, leaning further into Angela's chest.

"Buddy, Aunt B needs to check your arm. She needs to see how badly it's hurt." Angela shifted slightly, gently turning Michael. "It's just for a minute."

"No." The little boy began to wail, hot tears streaming down his cheeks.

Angela looked at Brennan helplessly. "Michael … please. She has to look at it before we take you to the doctor."

"Hey buddy." Hodgins knelt beside Angela. "Daddy's going to help you show Aunt B your arm. She's gotta check it. If she doesn't check it, it's just going to keep hurting."

Michael still protested, trying to hide against Angela, who was beginning to tear up again.

"Buddy, I'm going to help you be brave. And after all this is over, we're going to the zoo," Hodgins bribed. "You've gotta show Aunt B your arm."

After minutes of coaxing and pleading, Hodgins got Michael standing and helped him hold his arm out to Brennan.

"It's broken, isn't it." Angela took one look at Brennan's analytical face.

"Definitely."

"Collarbone too?"

"I'm not entirely certain, but judging by the slight slope in his clavicle, it's a definite possibility." She hesitated. "I could check, but …"

"No need." Hodgins shook his head. "We'll take him in and let the doctors deal with it."

"Thank you." Angela hugged Brennan. "I'm sorry I was hysterical on the phone."

"No need to apologize." Brennan leaned to smile at Michael. "You did great. I'm all finished."

"Hurts."

"I know. But the doctors are going to fix it."

"Will you come with us and make sure they do it right?" The words tumbled out of Angela's mouth.

"Babe, she's due in court …"

"Of course." Brennan nodded. "I've got time."

"Dr. B, are you sure?"

"Yes." She glanced at her watch. "I've got Booth's car — I'll drive you there. Hodgins, you can follow us. I'll have to get back to the office, and I don't want to have you stuck at the hospital."