Just a real short one for you to keep you interested. Thanks again for your reviews!

...

Having caught a taxi to their apartment, Hank is welcomed into his grandson's living room with a back-patting hug, "So, Shrimp, how are ya holding up?"

"Yeah, a lot better, Pops. I'm getting back to my normal self now thanks to Bones."

"I told ya she's a keeper, son; and how is the good doctor anyway?"

Running a tired hand over the back of his neck, Booth slumps into the lounge next to his old Pops and sighs, "Ah, she's OK. She thinks that just because she has crutches that she's been given a free pass to continue as if nothing's happened though... it's frustrating."

Hobbling on crutches into the lounge room from the bedroom, Brennan throws a gripe over her shoulder on the way to the kitchen, "Well now you know how I felt looking after you Booth; the main differences being – I didn't have a tumour the size of a golf ball removed from my head, I'm not at risk of seizure," Returning to the living room, she awkwardly passes a beer to Hank with a kiss to his cheek and eases herself into the recliner, holding her beer up with a long distance 'cheers' gesture, "and I am able to consume alcoholic beverages." She punctuates the end of her sentence with a tongue poked playfully at her partner and lifts the seat rest up so she's comfortably reclined.

Hank gives a hearty laugh, "Ha, she's got a point kid; you're as stubborn as an ox when you're disabled."

"Hey! Ease up old man, I am not disabled!"

"Yeah, yeah," he takes a swig of his beer and pats his knit covered belly, "mmm this is the stuff. Haven't had a good beer in ages. They just feed ya the cheap tripe in there," he winks at the doctor, "But I've got a nice bottle of port tucked away for when my lady friends come to visit."

Brennan smiles; Booth grimaces, "Pops!"

"Ah, c'mon Shrimp! A man's gotta have a little fun."

"Ignore him, Hank, he's most likely just jealous seeing as he's not been cleared by the doctor to have sexual intercourse yet." Then speaking to Booth she explains, "It's entirely natural for men and women in their 80's to want to engage in intimacy and sex, Booth, it's nothing to be ashamed of."

"Bones!"

Laughing heartily Hank responds, "Haha, there's nothing wrong with a little crocheting, son… keeps the blood flowin' good."

Completely red faced, Booth growls and stands up to go walk to his room, "Oh for God's sake! You two are as bad as each other. I'm going to get an orange juice."

As Booth is busy in the kitchen the front doorbell rings. Brennan goes to stand when Hank interjects, "Just you sit there Doc, I'll get it."

Placing his beer on the coffee table, Hank takes his time getting his old frame up and across the floor to the front door. When he opens the door he looks around to find an empty hallway and looks down to spot a casserole dish with a note attached to it. With a grunt, he bends down to pick it up and returns it to the living room, placing it on the coffee table and hands Brennan the note.

"Looks delicious whatever it is. Want me to put it in the fridge for ya?"

"Yes please, Hank, I'd appreciate that."

Reading the note, Brennan smiles faintly.

After seeing Hank put the dish into the fridge, Booth returns from the kitchen, "That looks yummo Bones, who brought it over?"

She hands him the note with a small smile and his demeanour flips from happy Booth toward more of an irritated, scowling Booth.

"Ugh! He probably spat in it. I say we get Thai for dinner."

"Booth, he's very apologetic. I know that we won't ever trust him in a professional manner but I think you should forgive him... he's our baby duck."

"He committed fraud so that he could look at pictures of my brain, Bones! Apart from stupid that's just downright creepy." He sank into the sofa, "I'm not cutting the guy any slack and it's just as well he rang the doorbell and ran. He can go choke on his stupid casserole for all I care… stupid meddling shrink."

Hank interjects, "Well, I'll eat it. I could do with a nice home cooked meal."

"How long are you staying for Hank? I'll cook you my specialty mac and cheese. Booth loves it."

"Oh I don't want to burden you Doc. I came to keep you off your feet and look after you and Seeley here."

"Yeah, good luck with that Pops. She's too stubborn for her own good"

"Hey! Who's calling the jug black!"

"It's kettle, Bones"

"Well whatever the receptacle… you're being hypocritical."

"That's 'cause I'm healing, Bones. I'm almost 100% back, baby!"

Hank sips his beer and chuckles… he'd never met a pair more perfect for each other.

...

So what do you think? Should Booth forgive their baby duck?