We don't own Bones or NCIS. We borrowed them and had a little fun combining both worlds. We hope we entertained you. This is the final chapter.

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Sitting in a back booth of Bob and Edith's Diner, just down the road from the back gate of Arlington National Cemetery, Booth studied the menu while Gibbs watched his father and uncle in a booth at the other end of the refurbished railroad car. The two men seemed to be engrossed in their conversation with with each other.

Parker scanned the menu, looked up and blurted out, "Dad, did you see that they have scrapple? I wonder if it's any good here."

Glad to hear that bit of good news, Booth looked at the menu in his hand. "When Charlie recommended this place, he said that everything on the menu is good. I guess we'll see, huh? Where did you see the scrapple?"

Eagerly, Parker pointed at the menu. " See . . . it's here under Breakfast side orders."

When he found it, Booth grinned. "Hey, you're right. You don't really want anything to eat do you? You just had a peanut butter sandwich and a coke an hour ago."

Shrugging his shoulders, Parker gave his father a sad look. "I'm still hungry, Dad."

Since he was a little hungry himself, Booth turned his gaze towards Brennan. "Do you want to eat some lunch here, Bones? I mean, Parker is right, one peanut butter sandwich isn't really lunch."

Helping Christine drink some water, Brennan cautiously held the glass and smiled at the young man sitting at the end of the table. "Parker does have a big appetite and it was just a sandwich. If you are going to order something then I'll have a garden salad with Italian Dressing on the side."

Now that that was settled, Booth continued to study the menu. "I can order an egg sandwich for Christine. I'll finish what she doesn't eat."

Abby looked up from studying the menu and looked over at Gibbs. "What do you think they're talking about?"

Studying his father's face, Gibbs shrugged his shoulders. "God knows. They haven't talked to each other for seventy years, so they have plenty of catching up. They're probably talking about the past."

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Glancing at his son, Jackson turned his gaze back to his brother. "Our boys think they're so smart. They're probably over there giving each other pats on the back for getting us together."

Amused, Hank sipped his coffee for a few seconds and then lowered the cup to the table. "Maybe they deserve to give each other a pat on the back. I'm pretty sure that they performed a miracle, don't you?"

Jackson moved his coffee cup towards his lips, drank some of the steaming beverage and afterward rested the cup on the table. "Yeah, I do. Still they don't have to be so darn smug about it." Drinking some more of the hot brew, Jackson put his cup back down. "You know, Hank, I kept track of you as best as I could through Uncle Henry. He talked to mother once a month and she'd pass on anything interesting he had heard about you. That worked fine until Mom died. After that it was a little more challenging. Then when Jethro looked up your son Joseph in the 70's when he was stationed in Philadelphia I gather that they talked quite a bit and got each other caught up on family news. Jethro knew I was interested, so he passed on the family news to me. Of course, when he was transferred to South Korea they lost touch, so it was hit and miss about the information I got then. I even subscribed to the Philadelphia Inquirer for a time."

Laughing, Hank shook his head. "I'll be damned. I subscribed to the paper out of Bloomsburg so I could keep track of you. You and your son were mentioned in the paper a few times. I wasn't anyone important so I can't imagine I was ever in the Philadelphia paper, well except when Marie died."

Surprised that Hank would think that, Jackson shook his head. "Well, no, you were in there when you retired from the Philadelphia Police Department. Joseph was mentioned when he was awarded the purple heart in Vietnam and Seeley was mentioned for some of his high school sports and then I knew when he went into the Rangers and there was coverage when he was rescued from the Iraqi Republican Guard. I really wanted to reach out when I read about that, Hank. I felt quilty that we weren't in touch." Jackson looked down a the table.

"I don't know how you felt about it Hank," Jackson continued without looking up. "but, I cannot tell you how many times I started to reach for the phone and then decided against it, thinking that you'd just hang up when you knew it was me."

Reaching his hand across the table, Hank placed it on top of Jackson's hand. "I am so sorry, Jackson that I let my mule headedness keep us apart. I just . . . I just took Dad's death so hard and I needed someone to blame and you were it. It wasn't fair and I really am sorry."

Slowly shaking his head, Jackson smiled at his brother. "You know, Hank, I think we just have to let it go. While I'm not sure we should let them know it just yet, I'm grateful to our boys for what they did. I'm not sure you noticed," Jackson's eyes twinkled as he glanced over at the table where the rest of the family sat nervously watching the two old veterans, "But I think they're just a tad nervous about our reaction to each other."

Hank gave a low chuckle. "Yeah, I know they weren't sure how this would go. Hell, Jackson, I wasn't sure how it would go! What do you say we let them off the hook, eh?"

Jackson looked across the table at his brother. Trying to hold his emotions in check, he smiled. "Yeah, I was gonna suggest that we keep them in the dark for awhile, but you're right, Hank. What they did was a good thing. For us and for them. I'm grateful to have you back in my life. We have some catching up to do and they do as well. Let's get to it."

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Pleased to see Hank pat Jackson's hand, Booth grinned. "I think we did well, Jethro. I think we did really well."

Glancing at the two older men sitting at the other end of the diner and reading their body language, Gibbs smiled too. "We did. We sure did."

Abby watched as the waitress placed a plate before Booth, he poured maple syrup over his slice of scrapple and then cut off a piece with a fork. "Isn't that meat?"

Placing the piece in his mouth, Booth answered around his mouthful. "Yep."

Puzzled, Abby had to ask. "Why did you put maple syrup on it? I mean, syrup and meat wouldn't be two combinations I'd think of."

Parker laughed and pointed at his scrapple. "Pops says this isn't really meat since it has cornmeal in it."

Now a little confused, Abby stared at the brown squares on the plates. "It's meat and cornmeal."

Swallowing his forkful of porky delight, Booth moved his fork to cut off another piece. "Well, its cornmeal and onions and meat. The meat is the left over bits of the pig. You know . . . the parts they can't really sell in the stores."

Wrinkling her nose, Abby placed her hand over her mouth. "Yummy."

Amused, Gibbs laughed. "Now, now, Abby. Don't be such a snob. Scrapple is the German version of Boudin. Scrapple is made with cornmeal and boudin is made with rice. It's still the left over bits of the pig . . . Besides, you eat Hog Heads cheese."

Puzzled, Abby turned to look at Gibbs. "What's wrong with Hog Heads cheese."

Shuddering, Booth shook his head his head in disgust. "You couldn't pay me to eat that stuff."

Clearly disturbed at the idea of eating left over bits of any animal, Brennan poked her fork in her salad. "You have no idea how happy I am that I'm a vegetarian."

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Thank you for reading our story. We enjoyed collaborating on it. Now is your chance to tell us if you liked it or not. If you are interested, there is a sequel to this story, "You're Not Alone".