(Season 10)

A/N: This story is for JBCFlyers19. Earlier this year, she bought me a souvenir from the 'Bones' show and I really loved it. I wanted to write her a story to show my thanks and this is it. It's a case fic set in season 10. I hope you like it.

I don't own Bones.

Oooooooooooooooooooo

She paused in the doorway for a few minutes and watched him work. He appeared to be engrossed with something in a folder that didn't appear to be good news, so perhaps her timing might be a little off. On the other hand, she had no choice, what needed to be done would be done now. "Hello, Seeley."

A voice from the past, Booth looked up and discovered Hannah standing just inside his office. Not sure how he felt about seeing her, he placed his folder down, leaned back against his chair and stared at his ex-lover. "What do you want?"

"So it's like that?" Hannah hadn't known what to expect, but the scowl on his face told her that he wasn't happy to see her. "Five years is a long time to be angry with someone."

His face now a blank mask, Booth slowly shook his head. "Angry? I'm not angry . . . What do you want?"

Since he wasn't in the mood to talk about old times, Hannah knew she had better get to the point. "I've been working on a story for about two months now. It's an odd story and at first I wasn't sure what to make of it, but everything I've discovered, everything I've seen points to something that the FBI needs to be made aware of. I think . . . I think this needs to be taken care of by you, because the local police involved are not seeing the whole picture and the situation is getting worse."

"Why me?" Booth was trying to be patient, but the way Hannah was talking was starting to get on his nerves. "You work out of New York. There is an FBI office up there. Why not go to them with this serious situation?"

She stepped further into the office and pointed at the chair in front of Booth's desk. "May I sit down? I promise I'm not going to waste your time."

Since Hannah was being persistent and it would look bad if he threw her out of his office, Booth pointed at the chair. "I'm busy, so let's keep this short."

"Fine." Hannah knew that her former lover wasn't happy to see her, but she needed his help. She knew that she could trust him to look into what she had found. She just needed to convince him there was a problem first. Once she was seated, she pulled a notebook from her purse and placed the purse on the floor. "There have been a series of murders on the east coast, mostly in the states of New York and Connecticut, one in Maine, New Hampshire and Pennsylvania . . . they involve the murder of children, all under the age of ten. So far, nine children have been murdered in these cases and I think they're related. I tried to talk to the FBI bureau chief in New York, but he said I didn't have enough evidence and I was just shopping for a sensational story. He said he wasn't letting the FBI get involved in tabloid trash . . . Seeley, I'm not doing that. What I have is real and I'm afraid . . . Will you hear me out?"

Booth leaned forward and placed his arms on his desk. He watched his ex-girlfriend check her notebook then look back up. "I don't want to sound callous, but children are murdered every day, it's a sad truth and law enforcement does its best to catch the killers . . . what's so special about these murders?"

He sounded cold and almost detached, but Hannah knew that Booth was processing what she was saying and she knew that he was probably trying to see the connection. She also knew he didn't trust her. "This is the weird part . . . I know it's going to sound like straight out of a movie, but I think I'm on to something . . ."

"Hannah, just tell me." His patience was hanging on by a thread. "What's so special about these murders?"

"Before each child's body was found, a clown was spotted in the area." She knew she had to talk fast now before he cut her off. "Witnesses reported seeing a clown, between 5' 10' and 6 feet tall. He had on a bright green fright wig, red and yellow clothes and black shoes. Each time, just before a body of a child was found, he appeared to be walking down a street or a lane nearby . . . I wasn't the one that originally saw the link in these murders. One of my former college school mates has a daughter named Robin. The child is eleven years old. She and a friend were approached by a clown in the town of Canaan, New York. Robin's friend, Kayley is afraid of clowns and as soon the clown appeared she screamed and ran away. Robin ran after her of course to make sure she was okay . . . Two days later a little girl's body was found in the same area where the girls had seen the clown . . ."

"Hannah . . ."

The reporter quickly held up her hand. "Wait, don't pass judgement yet. Let me continue . . . please."

Booth wasn't sure what he thought of her story so far, but it seemed a little too much like tabloid journalism. To emphasize how important his time was he looked at his watch. "Get to the point."

Relieved he was still listening, Hannah continued. "My friend, Marta was told about the clown by her daughter and she mentioned it to the police. One of the detectives was very condescending and thought Robin and her friend were just looking for attention. Then two months later, Marta read in the paper about a boy being murdered in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania. A witness had reported seeing a clown like the one Robin had seen in the area where the child's body was found. She started to worry and she called me about it . . . I started to do some digging and I found seven other cases of a child's murder and witnesses spotting a green haired clown in the area before the body was found . . . come on Seeley. There is no such thing as coincidence in a murder investigation, you told me that . . . there is something going on and . . . and I think it involves a serial killer . . . these are connected . . . please, you can have a copy of my notes. Do some digging. There is someone out there dressed like a clown killing small children."

He didn't want to believe her. It sounded too weird, like some trashy newspaper publisher's wet dream. "Give me a copy of your notes and I'll do some digging. I won't promise anything, but I'll check into it and see if you're onto something."

She was relieved that he was willing to investigate what she had so far. Leaning over she picked up her purse, removed a manila envelope and laid it down on Booth's desk. "Here is a copy of my notes. I have contact information for Marta . . . Marta Berry. She said she's willing to talk to you, do an interview. She has copies of newspapers from around the east coast about some of the murders . . . She used to be a reporter, but she was injured by an IED in Iraq and she retired. She moved back home, got married and she loves her new life. She volunteers for the local newspaper. They can't afford to pay her."

Booth opened the envelope and flipped through the sheets of paper. Not sure if he believed she was on to a real story, Booth decided to remain neutral. "I'll get Angela to look into this. I won't involve the FBI unless I have to . . . if this looks legitimate, I'll pass it on to my bosses . . . we done?"

"Yes, we're done." Hannah was disappointed that Booth was so abrupt and she wondered if their connection was permanently shattered. It sure felt like it. "I read that you got married last year . . . you have a daughter . . . you married Temperance. Are you happy?"

At that moment his life was a disaster of his own making, but that was none of Hannah's business. "Yes I am." Booth stood up. "I have a meeting to get to. I'll let you know what I find out about these clown sightings."

"Thank you, Seeley." Hannah stood up and sighed. "You would never have been happy married to me. I turned you down because I love my job more than anything in this world. It's who I am . . . I love the thrill of the chase. I hate to live very long in one place. I told you that when we hooked up."

Booth removed his jacket from the back of his chair and slipped it on. "I don't live in the past, Hannah. I live in the present. I'm married to Bones and I have two great kids. My life is great, I'm great. I don't miss you."

"Ouch." Hannah felt a stab of pain, but in reality she had expected it. "Well, I'm happy for you then. You found what you were looking for."

"I did." Booth ushered his former lover out of his office, strode past her and headed for the stair well. He needed to get to his meeting.

Hannah watched her former boyfriend walk away and she felt a little regret. He'd been a great boyfriend and lover, but he had spoiled it by becoming too serious.

Ooooooooooooooooooo

The Gambler's Anonymous meeting had been shorter than normal. A few of the regulars hadn't made it to the meeting, but it was Monday night and Monday's could be hectic. He still wasn't fully participating like he should, but he did listen to the others tell their stories. Feeling a little lonely, Booth drove over to the Royal Diner to have a quiet dinner by himself. He missed eating with his family, but the diner was comforting, like an old friend when you need one.

As he entered the diner, he spied Brennan sitting at their table in the back. Surprised he walked over to where she was sitting and stood near his wife. "Can I sit down?"

"Of course you may." Brennan smiled at her partner. "I was hoping to find you here. I have Christine's report card and I thought you might like to see it."

As he sat down, Booth took the card from his wife and scanned it. "E's like always. I'm glad." He handed the card back to Brennan. "How are you? You doing okay?" He worried that he couldn't keep an eye on her in this late stage of her pregnancy.

"I'm fine. The baby is fine." Brennan had noticed a change in Booth in the last week. He had stopped asking when he could come home and Aubrey said he was taking his gambler's anonymous meetings more seriously. She had great hope that Booth was finally seeing the damage he had done to himself as well as to her and he was willing to try to fix it. "I came by your office earlier, but you weren't there."

"No, I was in a meeting." Booth picked up a menu. "You got time to eat with me?" He hoped she would stay with him for at least a meal.

Brennan glanced at her watch. "Yes, Dad picked up Christine after school today. I told him I was going to see you about Christine's grades."

Grateful he wasn't going to eat alone, he handed her a menu. "Great . . . thank you."

"You're welcome." She missed him so much. She just hoped having dinner with Booth wouldn't give him any false hopes. He still needed to fix his mess and get his addiction under control, but she saw no harm in eating with him. She knew he was probably lonely just like she was.

Ooooooooooooooooooo

So is this interesting? I know the title is odd, but hopefully it will make sense by the end of the story.

A/N: Confluence = an act or process of merging