Disclaimer- I do not own bones or any of its characters. Chances are if you recognize something, it's not mine!

I think this is going to be a series of interconnected one shots that tells the story of the lives of our favorite anthropologist and FBI agent, their friends, and their kids. This is the first time I've written my ideas down, so I would appreciate thoughts and conductive criticism.

Chapter 1: Cooties

The pitter-patter of little feet running down the hallway towards her warned Temperance Brennan of the child that was rapidly approaching. She closed her laptop, set it on the nightstand and smiled as she leaned back against the headboard and waited for the child to approach.

"Mommy?" a little voice called timidly through a small crack. "Are you awake mommy?"

"You can come in baby," Brennan called to the little girl, "Mommy's awake." Brennan pulled the blankets off of her body, making a space for the little girl to join her on the bed.

The door to the bedroom flew open and a little girl with wavy brown hair and striking blue eyes flew through the room and dove onto the bed next to her mother. She snuggled against Brennan's body and let out a sigh of contentment. "I missed you today mommy," the little girl muttered into her mother's neck.

Brennan smiled and kissed the top of her little girl's head. "Oh I missed you too baby."

The little girl looked up into the set of eyes that matched her own, and gave her mother a huge smile that matched that of her father. For the next few minutes both mother and daughter were perfectly content to just snuggle together in each other's presence. After a few moments, the girl looks back up at her mom, this time with a hint of worry shining in her eyes and her lower lip slightly quivering.

"Christine? Are you ok baby?" Brennan questioned quietly, growing increasingly worried by her daughter's sudden change in demeanor.

The child looked away from her mother, and Brennan, despite being a bit worried about what was bothering her daughter, decided to wait for Christine to bring the issue up on her own instead of trying to coax it out of her.

The room remained quiet for a few moments, much to Brennan's dismay, and right as she was about to ask if anything was wrong again, Christine once again looked to her mom and asked, "Am I sick?"

Brennan furrowed her brow in confusion. Why would her daughter be questioning if she were sick? "Why do you say that baby? Are you feeling alright?"

Christine shrugged and snuggled against Brennan again. Brennan rubbed Christine's back, sensing that her daughter was clearly distressed. "You know you can tell me or daddy if anything is bugging you, right?"

Christine nodded, and said, "I know, mommy." She remained silent after this, however, much to Brennan's dismay. Brennan gave Christine a reassuring look; one that silently begged her daughter to tell her what was troubling her.

Christine let out a little sigh, subconsciously aware of the fact that her mother would not let this go, so it would be in her mother's and her best interest to just tell her mom what had been bugging her all day. Besides, she also knew that her mommy was the smartest person in the world, her daddy said that all the time, and that if something really was wrong with her, her mommy would be the one that would be able to help her get better. "I have cooties," Christine told her mom, worried that her mom was going to return with the news that she was going to die from this mysterious illness.

To say that Brennan was confused was an understatement. She had never heard of this mysterious illness that her daughter seemed so worried that she was infected with. Rationally, Brennan knew that her daughter was likely fine; she had no outer symptoms of any illness, and the only thing that seemed odd to Christine's normal behavior was the worry she had about having this strange "cootie" disease.

"Can you tell me why you think you have this cooties disease," Brennan asked her daughter in her hyper-rational way, which her daughter, even at the young age of five, seems to also show some signs of exhibiting as well.

Christine thought back on her day at preschool, and then began to recount how she learned of the dreaded cooties disease to her worried mother. "Everyone was playing monster during playtime. When it was my turn to be the monster, Michael told everyone else to stay away from me unless they all wanted to get my cooties." She stopped her story and a look crossed her face as if she was thinking about how to portray what happened next. "I thought it was because I was the monster," she continued, "but when we went back inside, everyone still stayed away from me." Her lip started to quiver and her voice became shaky, "nobody wanted to sit next to me. Michael said that nobody wanted to get my cooties, and if they played with me or were by me they would get sick too."

The story did not relieve Brennan's confusion; in fact, her daughter's story seemed to add to her bewilderment regarding this situation. "It's alright, Christine," Brennan soothed her daughter in an attempt to calm her little girl's fears, "everything will

be-"

She was cut off by a fearful gap coming from her daughter. Christine's eyes widened, almost as if she were just realizing an important fact that she had forgotten. "What is it baby?" Brennan asked softly.

"I'm sorry!" Christine cried out as she struggled to escape from her mother's arms. "I'm sorry!" Tears were streaming down her face, and she freed herself from her mother's arms, jumped off the bed, and ran out of her parents' bedroom leaving a very confused Brennan in her wake.

Seeley Booth stood in the kitchen putting away the groceries he had picked up before going to pick his daughter up from preschool. He knew something was wrong with his daughter by the way she was unusually quiet during their car ride home, but he wasn't going to worry too much about it. If something were seriously wrong she'd let him know. As soon as she had gotten home, she had immediately ran upstairs to her mother, which made Booth's overwhelming suspicion that missing her mom was what had been bugging Christine today.

He continued to put away the groceries and told himself that he would go check on his two favorite girls as soon as he was finished. Before he could finish, he heard heavy footfalls coming down the stairs and turned around to see his wife enter the kitchen. He immediately dropped the box of cereal that was in his hands and ran to her side.

"Bones, is everything ok?" He questioned, the worry evident in his voice. "Is the baby ok? You're not going into labor, are you?" Booth ranted like a madman, placing his hands protectively on Brennan's swollen abdomen to ensure both the child's and his mother's safety.

"Booth," Brennan groaned at her husband's overprotectiveness, "I'm fine. I am just-"

"Bones!" Booth cut her off, "you know that you need to stay in bed. The doctor said that if you want to carry this baby to term and not go into early labor again that you need to be on complete bed rest." He looked at Brennan who was rolling her eyes at his alpha male need to be overprotective towards her. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and began walking her back up the stairs and into their bed. "You are only seven months pregnant, Bones. Our baby is not ready to come out yet."

Before he could get anywhere, she slapped his hand away and said, "I know Booth, and I would never do anything to intentionally harm our son, but I am afraid that there is something wrong with Christine."

Booth stopped in his tracks and his eyes went wide with worry. "What do you mean something is wrong with Christine? Is she ok?"

"Have you ever hear of the cootie disease?" Brennan asked seriously, to which Booth immediately started laughing. "This is not funny Booth," Brennan reprimanded, "our daughter seems to think she has contracted this illness, and even though I have never heard of this disease we cannot take this lightly. Chances are she is mispronouncing the name, and we must do whatever we can to ensure our daughter's wellbeing."

Brennan's rant only made Booth laugh harder, which earned him a pointed glare from Brennan. "Bones," Booth informed his wife between laughs, "Cooties are a children's myth. A lot of the time boys will say that girls have cooties and vice versa. There is no real illness, it's just a children's game."

Brennan's eyes clouded with relief, "I guess that makes sense. But she so worried that she is sick. She said Michael told everyone at school to stay away from her otherwise they would all get the cooties."

Booth shook his head, "why am I not surprised that Michael Hodgins is behind this. That boy is trouble!"

"That's our godson you are talking about," Brennan kiddingly scolded. "Besides, I thought you told Angela that his behavior is just what boys do."

"Yeah," Booth agreed, "it is. But not when he's messing with my daughter. Then it is just trouble."

"Alpha male," Brennan teased.

"Damn straight!" Booth growled. Seeing Brennan's amused expression from his actions, he took a deep breath and told himself to calm down. "How upset is she?" Booth asked, determined to get his mind back to his daughter.

Brennan's face sobered up with Booth's question. "She was pretty scared, Booth," she told her husband. "She was crying and she ran out of the room away from me."

Booth looked into her eyes and could see the worry that she was attempting to hide in there. Despite the fact that she was the best mother in the world and Christine adored her, that didn't stop her doubts about being a good mother. "Hey," Booth lifted her chin so that her eyes met his chocolaty orbs in order to reassure her of her doubts, "why don't we go talk to her. Let her know that she is healthy as a horse."

"Why would you compare our daughter's health to that of a horse's, I don't understand."

"It's just a saying," he reassured her, "come on, we need to talk to Christine, and we need to get you back into bed."

Booth knocked gently on his daughter's door. He waited for a moment but didn't hear anything but the sniffles of his baby girl, who obviously was under a lot of distress. "Hey princess," Booth said cracking the door and looking at his daughter lying upside down on her bed, "Can mommy and daddy come in and talk to you for a little bit?" Booth saw her little head bobbing up and down. He opened the door and lead Brennan over to their daughter's bed. "Mommy has to sit down, so the baby can rest," he told his daughter as he helped Brennan get situated onto the bed.

Christine looked at her mother sitting on her bed with fearful eyes and scooted to the far corner of the bed, away from her mom. Brennan's face fell when she saw her daughter shying away from her, and she looked up to booth with tear-filled, pleading eyes.

Booth sat down at the end of Brennan's feet next to their daughter, and to his dismay, Christine turned away from him as well. "Hey princess, is something wrong?" Booth asked, "Did mommy and I do something to make you upset at us?"

Christine shook her head no and looked up at her daddy's worried face. "No," she said, "I have cooties and I don't want to get you, mommy or the baby sick." Her voice faltered off and she looked over to her mother. "I think I got mommy sick already though."

Brennan let out a deep sigh, understanding on why her daughter had ran from her saying 'sorry' earlier becoming evident, she thought she had gotten her sick with this imaginary sickness. "Oh baby," Brennan attempted to comfort Christine, "you didn't get mommy sick."

Christine looked back up at her mom with hopeful eyes, then turned to look at her dad, and then looked back to her mom. "How do you know? I didn't know I was sick, maybe you don't know that you're sick."

Booth moved over to his baby girl and wrapped her body in his embrace. "You want to know how I know that you didn't get mommy sick?" Booth asked kissing her forehead.

Christine nodded and looked up to him with eager eyes.

Booth chuckled. "I know that because there is no such thing as cooties."

Christine furrowed her brow, confusion written all over her face. Why did her daddy say that there was no such thing as cooties when everyone at school was scared they would get them from her.

Booth smiled at the Brennan-like confusion that his daughter exhibited. He decided the only way to relieve her fears would be to explain himself to her. "Cooties are an imaginary sickness that kids make up to tease somebody."

Both Booth and Brennan could see the relief was over their daughter's features at the fact that she was not sick. The relief suddenly turned to anger, which made her deep blue eyes turn a pale shade. "So Michael lied to me!"

Booth groaned. As much as he hated that Michael had caused his daughter pain, he knew that this was just a kid thing and if Michael wouldn't have done it, some other kid would have sooner or later. "Don't be mad at Michael princess," Booth told Christine against his better judgment, "it was just a joke. Tomorrow at school all the kids will forget all about you having cooties, and people will say someone else has them."

Christine was silent for a few moments and then asked, "So I'm not going to die?"

"No baby," Brennan said, finding herself growing angry at all the kids at her daughter's preschool for making her believe that she was going to die, "you're going to be just fine."

Christine lay down with her head on her mother's lap and her feet on her father's. Brennan began to run her fingers through her daughter's hair in an attempt to soothe her after this stressful day. After a few minutes of family time, Christine sat up and looks at her father. In a tone that matched one genius anthropologist, Christine stated, "It makes sense that cooties are not real. But I don't think the kids at school will believe me if I say that. What do I do if they still think I have cooties tomorrow?"

Booth smiled and answered, "Well then you tell them you got the cootie shot."

Both Brennan and Christine looked at Booth with matching expressions; their brows raised and their eyes saying 'what the hell are you talking about.'

Booth had to stop himself from laughing at the two girls sitting on the bed with him. Instead he grabbed Christine's arm and said, "I'll show you."

Christine looked over to her mother, a little worried what her father was going to do to give her a cootie shot. Brennan gave her daughter a small, reassuring smile. She trusted Booth completely and knew that he would be able to handle this situation.

Booth smiled when Christine looked up at him and said, "ok daddy, you can show me."

He took his finger and lightly traced a circle twice on the back of her hand, followed by two dots in the center while he chanted in a child-like way, "circle, circle, dot, dot, now you've got the cootie shot."

Christine rolled her eyes and stated to her father, "that is stupid."

"Christine, we don't call anything stupid," Brennan chastised.

"But mommy," Christine said, "it is!"

Brennan rolled her eyes and looked to her husband, letting him know that she agreed with her daughter's analysis.

"Hey," Booth defended himself, "since cooties are a made-up sickness, people who believe in it needs to have a made-up cure to make them better."

Christine thought about what her father said for a moment and then nodded in agreement, "That is logical."

After putting their daughter to bed, Booth tucked Brennan into their bed. "Now you have to stay here," Booth teasingly scolded, "we want our little boy to be strong and healthy when he is born.

Brennan smiled, and Booth kissed her baby bump lightly, and then moved up to give his wife a passionate kiss on the lips. "Where are you going?" She asked as Booth began to walk out of their bedroom, "aren't you going to spend the evening up here with me?"

Booth replied, "I'll be back in a minute. I need to go tell Hodgins to control that kid of his."

Brennan chuckled and watched as Booth began to walk out of the door. "Hey Booth," she called to him before he got too far down the hallway.

Booth peeked back in the bedroom, "yeah Bones?"

"How did you know all this stuff about cooties?" she questioned.

"It's a kid thing," Booth said, "I have a teenage son, remember."

"Parker went through this too?"

"He was just as devastated as his sister," Booth assured his wife. He smiled at her and then left to give Hodgins a piece of his mind.

Angela and Jack Hodgins sat on the couch in their family room. Angela was reading a romance novel and Jack was looking through some book about insects of the Sahara desert. Michael was sitting on the floor at his parent's feet playing a racing video game he got for his sixth birthday the previous week.

Hodgins groans as he is forced to put his book down as his cell phone rings. He looks at the caller id and answers, "what's up Booth?"

Both Angela and Michael stopped what they were doing as they heard an angry sounding Seeley Booth emanating from the other end of the phone line.

"Dude, what do you mean Christine was upset. Why are you calling me?" Hodgins asked.

At these words, Michael's face paled, and he set his controller down; actions that were not lost on his mother.

"Michael Staccato Vincent Hodgins," Angela said, using her son's full name, something reserved for when he was in trouble. "What did you do?"

Hodgins hung up the phone, the short-lived conversation with the FBI agent obviously finished, and turned to look at his son to see what he had to say about the situation.

"It was just a joke," Michael tried to defend himself.

"What was?" Angela asked for clarification.

"Telling everyone that Christine has cooties at school." Michael put his head down, knowing that he was going to get scolded for his actions.

Angela looked to her husband and he held his hand up and gave her a look telling her that he would take care of this. Angela nodded and went back to reading her novel, though in reality she was watching her husband and son like a hawk to see what would be said.

Hodgins sighed, "I know it was just a joke son," Hodgins reassured Michael.

"I thought she knew that cooties weren't real, dad," Michael said.

"You know Christine takes things literally. Chances are, she had never heard of cooties, and when you told everyone to stay away from her, she got scared that she was really sick."

"I'm really sorry," Michael said to his father sincerely, "I didn't mean to scare her." He looked down at the floor, scared to look at his father in the eyes. "Am I in trouble?" he asked.

"No," Hodgins said gently, feeling bad for his son, "I know you didn't mean any real harm. You just have to remember that Christine is a year younger than you, she's not going to know about some things at the same time as you."

Michael nodded solemnly, "I know dad. I'll be careful. She's my best friend, I'd never want to do anything to hurt her or make her sad."

Hodgins nodded, "I know you never would do anything intentionally, son. But the fact is that you did hurt her today." Hodgins noticed Michael's eyes cloud with unshed tears. "And even though it was unintentional, you still have to apologize."

"I know," Michael sniffled.

"I think as a punishment," Hodgins decided, "tomorrow morning we will go to the Booth house for breakfast, you can apologize to Christine then."

Michael nodded and hugged his dad, then went over to hug his mom, "I'm tired," he announced, "I think I'm going to go to bed."

Hodgins looked at his watch, it was just after 8 o' clock. Usually his son would fight to stay up until 9. He watched his son solemnly walk to his room, and Hodgins realized that he was subconsciously punishing himself for what had happened. "Your mother and I will come tuck you in in a few minutes," he called after him.

Hodgins slid down onto the couch next to his wife and lay his head on her shoulders. "I know you were listening," he told her, "was that punishment adequate enough?"

Angela smiled and kissed him on the cheek, "I think it was perfect. You really are amazing with him."

Reviews would be great! Let me know what you think!