(The Corpse at the Convention)

A/N: This is a Halloween story. I hope you enjoy it.

I don't own Bones.

Ooooooooooooooooo

Much to Booth's sorrow and regret, his grandfather had died while he was in prison and he'd been denied the right to attend Hank's funeral. He had grieved for the loss of the man he had considered his father, but it hadn't been until after he got out of prison and the man who had arranged to have him attacked in his home had been arrested that he was able to go to his grandfather's grave site and pay his respects. Hank's headstone was located next to his wife's headstone and Booth had noticed that Brennan had made sure the stones matched.

Distressed, Booth had stood in front of the stones for a long time. He had cried and talked to both his grandfather and grandmother telling them what had happened since Hank had died and that they shouldn't worry about him. He had asked Hank to forgive him for not being at the hospital when the old man had died and he hoped that Hank would consider it.

Silently standing by Booth while he visited his deceased grandparents, Brennan had held a bouquet of flowers in her arms and waited until her husband was ready to place them in the urns next to the stones. Once he was calmer, he had taken the bouquet, kissed Brennan on the cheek, knelt next to the urns and divided the flowers so both grandparents had a colorful spray of flowers in their urns.

Reluctantly, Booth had finally stood up, nodded his head at Brennan and pointed at their car in the distance. "You did a great job, Bones. The stone matches Grandma's stone and I liked how you had his military history chiseled in the bottom of his stone. He'd have loved that. He was so proud that he had served in the Army . . . He volunteered. He wasn't drafted. He served in Korea . . . the politicians and historians keep calling it a police action but that's just bullshit. Our soldiers died over there fighting that war, a lot of United Nation soldiers died in that war too . . . it was a war. Calling it a police action makes it seem like they were over there to give out parking tickets . . . men died."

"Yes, I know and you're welcome, Booth. I wanted anyone that saw the stone to know that he had served in the Army." Her arm hooked around her partner's arm Brennan walked with him back to the parking lot. "I have some of Hank's possessions in the garage. I kept some of his personal items just in case you wanted them. We can always give them to the Salvation Army if you don't want to keep them."

"Thanks, Bones. I don't know what I would have done, if you hadn't been here to take care of things." Booth knew that his wife had loved his grandfather and she had mourned for his passing too. "You did a great job with everything."

Oooooooooooooooooooooo

There were several cardboard boxes piled on one of the shelves along the back wall in the garage. Each box had the name 'Hank' printed on them in neat black letters. Not sure if he was up to the task, Booth decided that he'd have to look at the items sooner or later and it might as well be now. One box contained old books and that made him smile. He knew that his grandfather loved books and when he had moved to the retirement home, there were certain books he couldn't give away. He also knew that if he told Brennan he was going to get rid of the books, she'd find a way to keep them. You can't get rid of books, Booth. That was a never ending argument between them.

The next box contained several afghans that his grandmother had knitted and there would be no way he could give those away to strangers. He'd make sure that Parker got one, Christine had one and he'd ask Jared if he wanted one. He planned to keep the other three and place them in his bedroom on the top shelf of the closet.

That box taken care of, he moved on to the next box. Looking inside he found a variety of items including a tape recorder and a box of cassettes. Curious, he carried the cassette player over to the work bench, sat down on the stool and plugged the player into an electrical outlet. Moving his index finger over the backs of the cassettes, he pulled out the one on the far left and checked the date printed on the side. "October 13, 2008". Inserting the tape into the player, he hit the play button and heard his grandfather begin to speak.

"My doctor said I should record these because my speech got a little slurred after my heart attack. This is supposed to help me speak clearer, use it or lose it, I guess. Anyway, I don't know what I'm going to say on this thing, but I guess it doesn't matter . . . What? . . . Okay. I'll talk about you. I remember the first time I met you . . . Ha, I'm old but I'm not senile . . . What? . . . I am speaking loudly. I'm not muttering . . . Sit closer if you can't hear me . . . Okay, anyway, you were the prettiest girl in school. I was afraid to talk to you my freshman year in High School. You seemed to be popular . . . anyway, over the summer I'd walk by your house and try to buck up the courage to knock on the door and talk to you and one day I saw you sitting on the porch crying . . . Yeah, that was a sad day for you. Your grandmother had died and you didn't get to say goodbye . . . I walked up the steps and sat down beside you and I didn't say anything . . . because I didn't know what to say . . . anyway, after a while you stopped crying and turned to me and you thanked me because you didn't want to be alone . . . I guess after that, asking you out didn't seem to be too hard . . . Yeah, boys can be weird . . . I waited . . . I waited, I didn't ask you out for a month . . . okay, I waited three weeks which is close to a month . . . Aren't I supposed to be talking and not you? . . . Thank you . . . Well, I think I'm done talking for the day . . . Sure, it's enough . . . what do you mean I need to talk more . . . about what? Anything? Okay, fine . . . my mother made the best spaghetti sauce and I'm going give you the recipe . . . I know your sauce is good . . . no, I'm not telling you my mother's sauce was better . . . Hey you said talk about anything and I am . . . Now you want me to shut up? Fine."

Booth didn't know who his grandfather was talking to, but he knew it couldn't be his grandmother. She had died back in 1982, so his Pops must have been talking to an old girlfriend. He knew his grandfather was a player after his grandmother died, so maybe he met an old girlfriend and dated her. Turning the tape player off, Booth removed the cassette from the slot, put it in its plastic case and placed the case back in the box. Feeling sad, he decided not to look in the other two boxes on the shelves for now and left the garage.

"Did you find anything interesting?" Brennan was helping Christine make a peanut butter sandwich.

"I found some cassettes and a cassette player." Booth grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, opened it and drank some of the cold water. "I guess he was having speech problems after his heart attack. He didn't really talk that much to me after his heart attack, but I didn't notice anything off when he did talk to me. He was kind of mad about having the attack and he kind of took it out on me for a week or two, but that was okay. I didn't mind. He recorded himself speaking . . . I listened to one of them. There are three more and I want to listen to them."

It seemed that listening to the tape had made Booth sadder than he had been earlier that day, but Brennan wouldn't dream of recommending that he not listen to the tapes. She knew her husband needed to hear his grandfather speak and it might help him accept Hank's death. "Alright."

Moving into the living room, Booth grabbed a photo album from the bookshelf near the jukebox, carried it over to the couch and sat down. The album had belonged to his grandfather and he wanted to see if there were any pictures of Pop's high school sweethearts in the album.

Oooooooooooooooooo

Let me know what you think of my story so far.