Disclaimer: They're not mine. But I have asked Fox for them for my birthday on Sunday. What are the chances?

A/N: This little one-shot has been an agonizing journey. I thought up the entire story one Sunday night while I was tryng to fall asleep. But since I didn't want my husband to think I was crazy, I didn't get up and write it down then. So, of course, I couldn't ever get it to sound as perfect as it did that night in my head! Anyway, this is it's final form, five drafts later. So, please read and review, and I hope you enjoy it!

The bones on my table were frightening in their size. Incredibly tiny. Heartbreakingly tiny. And I was astonished at the emotions that were sweeping through me. Sadness for an innocent life cut so short. And anger. Unimaginable anger. I couldn't believe that someone would hurt someone so small. I had always been able to detach myself from the personal lives that were represented by the bones. But this time? This time was somehow different.

I stepped back for a minute and fought for control. Get a grip, Tempe. I told myself. You are the only hope for this baby. Find out what happened. And who is responsible. Focus your anger there. Give this baby some justice.

I took a deep breath and resumed my study. As is usually the case, I began to lose track of time as I assembled the skeleton and made my measurements. As I worked, I was able to redevelop the sense of detachment I longed for. There were answers here, and I was determined to find them. The lab began to grow quiet around me as I filled in the blanks in my report.

Suddenly, a voice cut through the silence of the lab. "Brennen! What are you still doing here?"

Nearly dropping the bone I was studying, I spun in time to see Angela, standing with her hands on her hips, staring at me. "Angela," I gasped. "You just about scared me to death!" Then, I noticed the envelope grasped in two of her fingers. "What have you got?"

She stopped at my table and fingered the edge of the envelope. "You're working on that Baby Doe case now?" She asked. I could almost hear the italics in her voice.

I sighed before answering. "Yeah, I was just going to do some preliminary work so Zach could really get into it tomorrow, but I guess I got preoccupied." I looked back down at the tiny skeleton. "I can tell you that she was a six-month old girl. Blunt force trauma to the head." I mentally shook my head. "So, are those the x-rays?"

I could see Angela hesitate. "You know what, Bren? Why don't you go home now. I mean, this will keep until tomorrow. It's after 11. Go home, get some sleep, and you can come back tomorrow."

I studied her for a minute. Something was wrong. Let me say that I love Angela. I love her bright and vivacious personality. I love that she isn't afraid to grab life with both hands. I've often been too afraid to do that. I also love her expressive face. I have never once wondered what she is thinking. Again, it's a difference between the two of us. There's only one person in the world who knows what I'm thinking all of the time. But I can instantly tell when something's bothering Angela. And this was one of those times.

"Angela," I said softly. "What's in the x-rays?"

She laughed nervously, and her voice pitched up about an octave. "I was here late trying to finish that facial reconstruction of the Egyptian pharaoh that Dr. Goodman's been working on, and I saw this waiting for you, and I knew you and Booth were working on a new case, and I thought I'd at least give the x-ray a quick glance so I could get some ideas as to how the face looks, and well, here, I'll let you take a look." As she finished, she thrust the envelope at me.

I gave her my patented "curious" look and took the envelope from her shaking hand. Still completely baffled about what had her so upset, I walked over to the lights and put the first x-ray up.

And I was confronted with the horror of this baby's life. "Dear God," I whispered softly. At first glance, it seemed as if every bone in her body had been broken at some time. There were healed fractures on each arm, both legs, and a couple of ribs. "What kind of animal could do this to a baby?" I murmured.

Ignoring Angela's hand on my shoulder, I slowly walked back to the skull that I had been studying. I picked it up and rotated it in my hand. It was so tiny, so perfect, and I was once again struck by the innocence of this little girl. I looked up at Angela's tear-bright eyes. "What do you think she looked like?" I asked, softly.

Angela wiped a hand across her eyes. "I don't know," she answered. "I will need to take some measurements, and Zach will need to get me. . ."

I shook my head, interrupting, "No, I mean do you think she learned to smile? Do you think she ever giggled at her mommy? Did her mother ever hold her close and whisper that she loved her?" I was starting to cry now. "Do you think anyone ever kissed her forehead as she fell asleep?"

Angela put her arm around my shoulders. "Sweetie," she said, "I think you really need to go home now. You're tired and emotional, and I want to make sure you get home OK. She'll be here tomorrow waiting for you."

I couldn't tell you how I got home, but I do remember crying on the way. When I reached my apartment, I dropped my bags beside the door, and shed my coat as I walked through the hallway. I'd deal with them in the morning. The only goal I had at this point was crawling into my warm bed and pulling the covers over my head.

My small bedside lamp cast a golden glow over the room as I entered. Quickly, I undressed and pulled on my most comfortable T-shirt and shorts. In the soft light, I could see the man sleeping quietly in my bed. Once again, he'd fallen asleep waiting for me. I tried to slip into bed without waking him up, but I was unsuccessful.

Booth's gaze took in my red-rimmed eyes and the tears I'd tried to wipe away. "Hey," he whispered as he reached up to brush away a lingering tear. "What's wrong, honey?"

I tried to smile as I softy kissed his palm. "It's nothing. Just this case that's got me all emotional." I laughed for a second, "I don't know what my problem is."

"Tell me."

"Do you believe in God?"

"What?" he replied, astonished at the new direction in the conversation.

"I wonder sometimes how people can believe in God. I mean, I have the skeleton of a six month old baby girl on may table and some monster has bashed her skull in. Six months old, Booth! How can anyone believe that there's a God when they see ugliness like that? And how to we know that it's not going to happen to us?" I laid a hand on my swelling abdomen. "How do I know it's not going to happen to our baby?"

Booth propped himself up and stared deeply into my eyes. "Temperance, " he began, and I smiled. He always called me Temperance when he wanted my attention. "Temperance, I'm only going to say this once, and I want you to listen to me very carefully. I don't worry about this baby for a minute, and you know why? Because you're its mother. And I have seen how hard you fight for something you truly believe in. You fight with a passion and a dedication that is astonishing to some people. I married you because of that. And I can't ever imagine you not loving this baby with every fiber of your bering. So you see? It's pretty simple to me."

I reached up to stroke his cheek. He was always so wonderful to me. "But we see people everyday who never expected tragedy to strike them. I know I never expected it to touch me. I'm scared, I guess that's all. I know that there are monsters and things that go bump in the night because I've looked them in the face. I wish it wasn't so, but it is."

He pulled me close. "Do you remember the cafe we visited in New Orleans? You know, during your brush with voodoo?" I nodded against his chest. How could I forget? Once again he'd saved me. "And what did I tell you then?" he continued, "You make those monsters unsafe. That's why I liked you then, and that's why I like you now. Whoever he is, this guy who beat a little six month girl to death? You'll find him. Actually, we'll find him, cause I'm still your partner right?" He grinned at me. "You said you couldn't do those things without me." I had to laugh at that wonderful, sexy smile. "That's my girl," he whispered leaning over to touch his lips to mine.

And I lost myself once again in the wonder of his kiss.

The End