I know, I know - it's been too long! You can blame all the usual suspects: RL, the hiatus, etc. Thanks once again to everyone for their support, especially Dee47 for giving me a much needed kick up the backside. ;)

Chapter 10.

Booth had every intention of keeping his promise to Brennan, but letting go of the Broadsky case and everything it symbolised wasn't as easy as he'd made it sound.

That was why he found himself storming into Sweets' office barely a week later, when she thought he was at home catching up on daytime soaps.

"I need you to sign these," Booth ordered him, dropping a handful of papers onto the desk in front of him.

Sweets shot him a quizzical glance as he picked them up."This says you're mentally fit to return to active duty," he read, looking surprised.

"And you're my shrink," Booth agreed, "so what's the problem?"

"The problem, Agent Booth," Sweets began seriously, laying the document neatly back on his desk, "is that you haven't attended a single counselling session since your shooting. How do I know you're not experiencing Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder?"

"I'm not," Booth assured him quickly. "It's not like I haven't been shot before."

"Okay," Sweets agreed, folding his hands to signify that Booth had his full attention. "So convince me and I'll sign whatever you want."

Booth rolled his eyes heavenward, huffing out an exasperated sigh."Fine," he said, pulling up the nearest chair. "What do you want to know?"

"Does your impatience to be reinstated have anything to do with the fact that Jacob Broadsky has been identified as a suspect in a recent homicide?"

Of course he just had to go there. "You know, you sound just like Bones," Booth complained. He had expected a little more understanding from the rest of his colleagues; after all, no one had tried to keep Brennan from working her parents' case.

"So you're saying Dr. Brennan has expressed concern about your readiness to return to work?" Sweets repeated, frowning at him. "Does she know you're here talking to me about this right now?"

"No, and you are not going to tell her, okay?" Booth insisted, his eyes flashing a warning.

"Why not?" Sweets pressed.

"Because she's pre…" Booth caught himself before he spilled the beans about Brennan's pregnancy. They weren't ready to start telling people yet: not until they were sure that both she and the baby were healthy, and they'd had time to figure out some of the finer details, like where they were all going to live. "Prejudiced," he finished lamely.

He should have known the psychologist wouldn't be able to let that go without comment. "That's an odd choice of word," he pointed out.

"Don't do that," Booth snapped.

"Do what?"

"Read into everything I say."

"You're very defensive."

"Yeah? Well being evaluated does that to you," Booth retorted.

"How about we make a deal?" Sweets offered and Booth's heart leapt until he added, "You attend six weekly counselling sessions with me, and if at the end of that time, I'm satisfied that you aren't suffering any negative psychological effects as a result of your shooting, I'll give my full recommendation that they reinstate you to active duty – provided that your physical injuries are sufficiently healed."

"Six weeks?!" What if, in that time, Broadsky killed someone else? Or worse, targeted Booth's team again? Worst of all, what if he came after Parker, or more likely, Brennan? "This is my case, Sweets," Booth insisted. "I need to be back at work tomorrow."

"You got shot in the chest, Agent Booth," Sweets reminded him patiently, refusing to be swayed by Booth's anger. "It's doubtful that the FBI will allow you to return to field duty any sooner than that." He opened his notepad to a fresh page. "Now, let's start with how you've been sleeping. Have you had any nightmares since the shooting?"

"How're my favourite squint and squint-to-be?" Booth greeted his partner, who was hard at work in her office.

"Booth," she complained, tilting her head and fixing him with her best disapproving girlfriend look.

"You can relax, Bones – I took a cab," he assured her, as though driving would have been the worse of his transgressions today, leaning across her desk to plant a chaste kiss on her mouth. He kissed her a second time for good measure. "I thought I'd save you the trip across town and come early so we had time to grab some lunch before your appointment."

After waging an internal debate with himself, Booth had decided against filling her in on his meeting with Sweets. He told himself it was because he didn't want to stress her out this early in her pregnancy and risk potential harm to the baby, when in truth, his motives were much more selfish than that.

Fortunately for him, she didn't seem to find anything suspicious about his behaviour. "Good," she said, standing up and gathering the folders she was examining into a tidy pile. "Because in addition to having to urinate all the time, I find that I'm constantly hungry, even if I do end up vomiting up most of what I eat."

His mildly horrified look caused her to frown. "Was that too much information?" she asked.

Maybe just a little, he agreed silently.

"You probably don't want to hear about vomiting or urination when we've only just begun dating," she continued with a worried expression.

Or you know, ever, he thought."It's fine, Bones," he lied. He was the one who told her he wanted to be involved every step of the way. "Pregnancy is a beautiful thing."

It was her turn to wrinkle her nose in distaste. "Actually, it's quite unpleasant," she admitted. "I can see why Angela is so eager to give birth."

Booth hated the thought of her being so uncomfortable, but he had to remind himself that it wasn't without a reward, for either of them. He walked up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist in a comforting hug. "It'll all be worth it in the end," he assured her. "You'll see. You are gonna love being a mom – taking her to museums and teaching her all those science-y things that just go over my head."

She settled back into his embrace, rewarding him with a rare dreamy smile. "I know," she agreed.

Booth continued to marvel over the filmy print out the sonographer had given them as he and Brennan left the clinic.

"Her first picture. I am gonna frame this and put it on my desk, right next to the one of Parker," he announced.

"But you can't even tell what it is," Brennan protested.

"Of course you can," he insisted, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk. He squinted at it, pointing to a light smudge near the centre that he assumed must be the baby. "Look, there she is right there."

"That's your fingerprint," Brennan argued, taking it from him. She wiped it carefully on her shirt, holding it up to show him that the mark was gone. "See? The embryo is over here."

"Why do you always have to do that?" he complained. So what if he was getting a little excited? He had every right to be.

"Do what?" she asked innocently.

"Pick apart everything I say. Can't you just be happy with me? We're having a baby – a strong, healthy, perfect baby." Okay, maybe that last part was a slight embellishment of the sonographer's words, but he was sure that that was what she'd meant.

Brennan cringed, flashing him an apologetic smile. "Sorry. It was pretty amazing, wasn't it?" she agreed, leaning her head against his so that she could study the print out with him. "I'm glad you were there to hear it with me."

The significance of this statement wasn't lost on Booth; he forced himself to push his guilt at breaking his promise to her aside and just focus on being in the moment with her.

"Me too." He pressed a lingering kiss to her hair. "I love you, Bones."

Her face lit up into one of the sweetest smiles he had ever seen. "I love you too, Booth."

But before he could kiss her again, properly this time, the message tone on her cell chimed and she straightened, digging the phone out of her purse.

"What?" he demanded impatiently as soon as she opened the text. "Does someone have a lead on Broadsky?"

She shook her head to dismiss his question, holding her hand up for silence while she finished reading. "We have to get to the hospital," he told him finally, looking up at him in alarm.

"Why? Is there something wrong with the baby?" he asked her. Surely they would have told them at the appointment if there was?

"No, our child is fine," she assured him. "At least as far as I know. That was Wendell. Angela is in labour."