A/N: This is a sequel. You will have questions if you don't read "Thunder" first.

Dr. Temperance Brennan stood at the door studying the face of Special Agent Seeley Booth. She determined immediately that something was really wrong. She came to this conclusion because, first of all, he never knocked anymore, and second, he was pale and sweating and his normally soft brown eyes were the color of coffee grounds.

She found herself reacting to his obvious distress, her heart rate accelerating. "What happened?"

He cleared his throat, speaking for the first time since she answered the knock at her door. "I need to talk to you, to show you something." He looked down, away from her intense blue gaze, to the padded envelope in his hands.

"What is it? You are worrying me." She stepped out of the way, wishing he would have just barged in as usual, kissed her softly on the cheek, threw his keys on the table, and grabbed a beer from the refrigerator. Instead, he trudged past her, raking a hand through his hair, standing two feet inside the door. "Is Parker OK?" She couldn't think of anything else that would illicit this type of reaction from him. She noticed the envelopes in his hand for the first time. "What is that?"

He looked at the envelopes again with dread, reminded of the unwanted appendage that he had been carrying around for the past several hours. "I don't want to do this. I don't know how to show you these. I don't even want to think what the implications are." He sighed and with resignation, opened the smaller envelope, and laid it's contents carefully on her sofa table.

She followed him to the table and stood next to him while he upacked the plastic bagged photos. She was confused, but let out an audible sigh of momentary relief as she realized what he had laid out in front of her. "You really had me scared. Photographs....of me and Blake? Where did you get these?" Her voice was thick with concern and confusion.

Her thoughts drifted back instantly to all the times Blake took her picture, or their picture together. He had hundreds of them, thousands probably. Photography was his second love, next to music. There was something different about these photos. They were rough, candid. Blake did not take them, and he would not send them, not to her, and definitely not to Booth. They had all come to an understanding. She and Blake were over. She was happy with Booth. Blake would step back and be happy for her, for both of them. She was jolted back to the present with Booth's voice.

He touched the first photograph. "This one was slid under my door sometime last night or early this morning. This one was on the windshield of my car, and this one was mailed to my office."

She looked over his shoulder at the pictures again. The first one was of her laughing and looking up at Blake, who was standing behind her with his arms wrapped around her middle. The second was of Blake relaxing on the couch with Brennan laying down, her head in his lap, him absently playing with her hair. Blake and Brennan in bed sleeping, her head resting on his bare chest, her bandaged wrist laying over his ribs.

She picked up the first two again, a cold fist squeezing around her heart. She realized the exact day it was taken... the day they were all taken. Her eyes widened as she looked up at him. He hadn't said anything or asked any questions. Was he expecting an explanation? Did he think these were hers? Did he think they were recent? Why would Blake, or anyone else, send photos of that night? Her mind was reeling with questions. Her mouth was dry, and instead of forming some kind of relevant explanation, she found herself on the verge of tears, and panic welling up in her gut. "I don't understand."

"I don't either. The only explanation I can come up with scares the hell out of me. Especially when I factor in what is in the other envelope."

A/N2: I warned you... You are probably wondering, "Who the hell is Blake?" Read Thunder and you will know.