Prologue

"Wanted to see me?" Booth asked upon entering Sam Cullen's office. His eyebrows furrowed as he noticed the person sitting in the chair in front of the deputy director's large mahogany desk. Dr. Camille Saroyan, head of the Forensic Division at the Jeffersonian Institute. She looked impeccable as always, her black trousers suit perfectly tailored, her thick black hair professionally styled. The only unusual thing was her expression: she looked very serious.

Something important must have happened, Booth thought. "What's wrong? Why are you here, Cam?"

"Dr. Saroyan has just reported an incident," Cullen said.

Booth looked at Cam, but she kept her eyes fixed on her four-inch heels. "What incident?" he asked with increasing impatience. "What's going on?"

"Agent Booth, you are suspended from your duties until further notice. I have to ask you to hand over your gun and your badge," the deputy director said imperatively.

"What? Why?" Booth asked, shocked.

Cam raised from the chair and looked at him, her expression sad and apologetic. "I'm sorry, Booth. You're my friend. I had to do this in your interest."

She turned on her heel and left, delegating the uneasy task of explaining to Cullen.

Booth turned to the deputy director. "What the hell is this about?"

"Calm down, Booth. Dr. Saroyan filed an official complaint against you for assaulting one of the doctors of the Jeffersonian Institute."

Booth let out a sarcastic laugh. "Oh, come on. I did not assault Zack. I mean Dr. Addy. I just ... pushed him. A little. He wasn't hurt."

"He wasn't, but according to Dr. Saroyan you were," Cullen put on his glasses and glanced into his papers, "under the influence of alcohol when the incident happened."

Booth froze. "What?"

Cullen sat back in his chair and looked at his agent. He couldn't help, but notice that he looked miserable. He had dark circles under his eyes and he obviously lost some weight lately. He was only a shadow of his old self and Cullen felt sorry for him. He'd always liked Booth and last thing he wanted was to lose him as an agent.

"This can't go on like this, Booth," he said, his voice filled with sympathy.

Booth collapsed in the chair. He knew his boss was right. No matter how hard he'd tried to pretend that everything was fine.

The deputy director sighed. "I am aware of the fact that you and Dr. Brennan were very close." He noticed how Booth tensed up at the bare mention of the anthropologist's name. "And I know you miss her."

Booth fixed his gaze on the abstract painting on the wall to avoid eye contact with his boss. But he wasn't fast enough. Cullen already saw the pain in his eyes. He softened his tone. "You're one of my best agents, Booth. But you really need to pull yourself together if you want to keep your job."

Booth looked at him in surprise. "Are you serious?" He knew he was in trouble, but he didn't see that coming.

"Yes, I am. Your behavior has been very questionable lately, Booth. Agents come to me and complain about how hard it is to get along with you. And I don't like that." He paused, forcing Booth to look him in the eyes. "I want you to see the FBI's therapist."

Booth stood. "A shrink? No way."

Cullen stood, too. The agent's stubbornness angered him. "It's not a recommendation," he said firmly. "It's an order. Your drinking problem worries me."

"I don't have a drinking problem. I have everything under control."

"Really? Like the other day in the interrogation room?"

Booth frowned. "How do you know about that?"

"That you almost broke the arm of a suspect? I'm the boss here, remember?" he said angrily. "I'm the one who has to clean up the mess you make."

Booth cast his eyes down. Cullen was right except that he was the mess himself.

"Look, Booth. You have to admit that you need help. This incident at the Jeffersonian was the last straw. Go to the therapist. His name is Dr. Lance Sweets. He's good guy. And as soon as he declares you fit for duty, I'll reinstate you."

Booth gave him a faint nod. He placed his badge and his gun on Cullen's desk.

"Thank you," Cullen said and watched him disappear through the doorway. He let out a sigh. From time to time his agents acted like nasty kids whom the schoolmaster had to punish just for their own sakes. And FBI Deputy Director Sam Cullen hated to play the part of the schoolmaster.

What happened to Brennan? If you want to find out, stay tuned. And please, please, please review!