So a friend of mine was able to make me completely speechless the other day (and if you know me well you know that like never happens)… so she asked me what she wins… I told her the satisfaction of doing so… well she wanted something so I told her to give me a prompt then and I'll give it a go…

Well she kind of got a whole idea from the scene of Brennan making breakfast and decided she wanted a typical week of breakfasts before they left… Takes place while Brennan and Christine are on the run…

Title: Breakfast for the Booths

Summary: Making pancakes and French toast for breakfast was his thing… it just wasn't the same without them…

Booth's POV…

Disclaimer: If I owned Bones, would I still be here?

Let me know what you think!

We had a routine. I hadn't realized it until they were gone, but we had developed a breakfast routine that just didn't feel the same with my girls who knows where, doing who knows what for breakfast.

I always made breakfast.

Some days I'd make French toast. Other days it was eggs. Maybe hash browns. Sometimes waffles.

One thing was always constant, though. I always made pancakes with one of those other things. I hadn't realized it, but there was even a routine with what pancakes I made on any day of the week. There was meaning to the flavor of the day to me that I hadn't even realized until they were gone and I had plenty of time to think.

Saturdays were banana pancakes. Why, you may be thinking. Well I was thinking the same thing, too. And then it hit me. Saturday morning cartoons. Bananas are always fun. You had always seen someone in the old cartoons slipping on a banana peel and go sliding somewhere or flipping in the air and landing on their butts. Saturdays were fun days. They were used to spend the day with Christine and Bones doing whatever we wanted to do: be it go to the park, spend a lazy day at home, or just about anything we could think of. It was our day to spend how we wanted to. We were free to have fun and be a family without worrying about work. And it was just the start of the weekend. There would still be another day of fun to look forward to.

Sundays were peach pancakes. It took me a little while to figure out why I always made peach pancakes on Sundays, but then it hit me after doing a little bit of research about the peach when I had no idea what to do with myself while they were gone. Bones always loves fruits and healthy foods, but that still doesn't explain why Sundays were the day for peach pancakes. Peaches are believed to be fruits for happiness. We always would have a great Saturday, normally followed by an equally happy Sunday. The two days were family time. Time just for us to enjoy the way we wanted to enjoy it, doing what we wanted to do. It was always fun times for us on the weekends. We didn't have to worry about work, all we had to worry about was when to get out of bed to start our day and what we wanted to do that day.

Mondays were plain pancakes. It didn't take a genius to figure out why. Everyone hates Mondays. Why? Because it's back to reality. It's back to school and work. It's back to responsibility. It's time spent away from Bones and our daughter. So there was no fun with Mondays coming around. It was just another boring day at the office unless I got called about a case. But even then it still wasn't great because yeah, I got to see Bones, but we would be investigating someone's death and telling their loved ones that they wouldn't be returning to them. Yeah, Mondays weren't fun coming around so plain and boring pancakes seemed appropriate.

It was strawberry pancakes on Tuesdays. After I thought about Monday, it was clear to me why strawberries were for Tuesdays. Strawberries are sweet and there's not much going for Tuesdays. It was the second day of the week, still three more days if you didn't count that day, until it would just be family time again. There needed to be something to pick up the mood and a sweet fruit was just the thing that could do it.

Blueberries, I realized were the key to breakfasts on Wednesdays. The y had a unique flavor, good for picking up the mood when you're right smack dab in the center of the week. They always tasted slightly different, providing a small surprise every Wednesday as to what the pancake would actually taste like. I may not understand fully why it always tasted different. I could guess that it had to do with how fresh the blueberries were and how long I actually cooked them for, but I don't know. Bones could probably tell me, but she's not here right now to ask, and when they get home I probably won't care enough to ask. I'll just be happy to have them home.

Thursdays were apple pancakes. Have to save the best fruit for near the end of the week and apple's got to be the best. I mean, it's great in pie. They're great at fairs as candied apples. They're great with peanut butter. I'm not sure you could find something that an apple won't go well with. What I love the most is Bones always said she hates her fruit cooked, but she loves the pancakes anyway and these the most. I guess that was a taste that she continued to like even after her pregnancy.

Fridays were the best day of the week. It was the last day of the work week before a fun weekend, so it was definitely time to celebrate. That's why chocolate chip pancakes were saved for Fridays. Bones always had a slight frown on her face about making the breakfast unhealthy. I always told her the same two things to get her to go with it: you needed to be bad one day of the week and that they weren't that bad anyway because I made them with dark chocolate and some dark chocolate is good for your heart. It never failed to amuse me that, after her disapproval of the breakfast, this was the day of the week she ate the most pancakes. I would never dare to tell her this, though.

Now, though, my breakfast consists of the same boring cereal every day. I just can't bring myself to make pancakes or anything else with them gone. I miss watching Christine smash the pancakes. I miss Bones' disapproving looks about the chocolate chip pancakes before eating more that day than any other. I miss Christine throwing small pieces of egg when I made those. Making any of that with them gone just wasn't the same and I couldn't bring myself to make me breakfast when I was alone. So, it was cereal for me until they get home.

I couldn't wait for them to get home so I could hold my girls—I could still hear Bones correcting me in my mind 'Booth, I'm hardly a girl. I'm a grown Woman.'—and make them and me breakfast again. Until then though my days were boring and unbearable so it might as well be boring cereal for breakfast. I just want them home soon. I wonder what the first batch of pancakes I'll need to make again will be. I don't really care which ones I'll be making again first is, but whichever it is I hope I have to make them soon.

So what did you think? Reviews much appreciated!