I've just found Bones and have bought the DVD's for Seasons 1 – 6. I love this show and the interactions between the characters. I don't know why I didn't catch it before!

Having watched 6 seasons over a period of about a week I found I had a few plot ideas running round my head. This one just wouldn't go away. I have two stories on the go already but I found I couldn't concentrate on them, so I thought if I wrote this plot down I would be able to get back to work on my other stories. Here is the result. Unfortunately it turned into a multi chapter story as most of mine tend to do.

This is my first Bones fic. I think it is probably set sometime in the 5th or early in the 6th season when Bones' relationship with her father appears easier and more settled.

The usual disclaimer that I don't own anything related to the programme apples.

Please let me know what you think.

The Conviction in the Family

Duchess County, Virginia

Sheriff Todd Jamieson strode through the abandoned barn. It seemed to have been used as an unofficial dump site by at least half the County. He made a mental note that he needed to do something to prevent this in the future. The place was a health hazard, even without the recent addition. He came to a halt and glanced towards the badly decomposed body. Judging from the suit and tie it had been a male and from what little exposed skin had escaped the scavengers, he guessed that the guy had been African American. The folks in the County were a close knit community and no-one had been reported missing, so the likelihood was the corpse belonged to an outsider.

"So, Doc, what you got?" He asked the County's part-time Medical Examiner.

Doctor Edwin Smollett looked up from where he was crouched among the split garbage bags leaking their contents across the packed earth floor. His face was wrinkled in distaste at the smell sickly sweet smell of rotting flesh and vegetation. He was a paediatrician who had taken over the M.E. job only recently and, up to now, the few call outs he had attended had involved grieving relatives discovering that a loved one had unexpectedly passed away during the night.

"From the degree of decomposition I'd say this guy's been dead for at least five days, maybe a week. It's been real hot recently and that would have sped up the process. As you can see, the local wildlife has also had a field day. That doesn't give me much to work with as far as cause of death is concerned but I found a coupla bags containing an off white, rock like substance on him. Amos has them."

Sheriff Jamieson turned to Deputy Amos Vinson, who passed him an evidence bag.

"I guess we'll have to have it analysed to be sure but it looks like crack to me, Sheriff."

Jamieson nodded. Unfortunately, the drug plague was no longer confined to the big cities and even County cops like Amos and he were familiar with the appearance of the most common narcotics.

Deputy Vinson continued. "We also found this clutched in his right hand." He handed the Sheriff another evidence bag containing a short pipe. "Seems to confirm that the guy was tweaking."

"Any identification on the body?" Sheriff Jamieson asked.

Vinson nodded. "We found his wallet. It had $50, credit cards and a driver's licence in the name of Taylor Munro in it. Licence gives an address in Richmond." He handed over a further evidence bag. The licence had been taken out of the wallet and could be seen through the clear plastic. The photograph showed an African American man who looked to be in his sixties. This rang a warning bell in Jamieson's head. Crack smokers rarely made it to anything like an advanced age. Then he looked more closely at the name and photograph and the warning bells receded into the distance.

"Taylor Munro. Isn't he that ex-con agitator trying to over-turn the State's ban on felons' voting?"

"Yeah. He was here 'bout a week back, giving a speech at the Zion Community Church, trying to stir things up."

Jamieson turned back to Doctor Smollett. "Any obvious signs of violence, you can see there, Doc?" When the M.E. shook his head he turned back to his Deputy. "Well, the time line fits. Looks to me like he fell back on his old habits, stopped off here on his way back home for a smoke, O.D'd. and died out here like an animal." He shook his head, sadly. "That's why ex cons can't be trusted with the vote. They don't have the good judgement to use it responsibly."

Royal Diner, Washington, D.C.

Brennan, Booth and Sweets had finished their lunch and were lingering over their drinks, discussing the case they had closed the night before.

"Tempe!"

The three of them turned towards the speaker. There were only two people in the world who called Dr Temperance Brennan by this diminutive.

"Russ!" Brennan rose and hugged her brother. "What are you doing in D.C.? Why didn't you call to say you were coming?"

Russ ignored the questions. He indicated his companion, a conservatively dressed, white haired, African American woman who looked to be in her early sixties. "This is a…friend of mine, Mrs. Arlene Munro. Mrs Munro, this is my sister, Doctor Temperance Brennan. F.B.I. Special Agent Seeley Booth and Doctor Lance Sweets. He also works for the F.B.I." He gestured to Mrs Munro to take the spare seat next to his sister and pulled up a free chair to sit at the end of the table.

"I'm sorry I didn't call Tempe. It happened so fast I didn't have time. I phoned the Jeffersonian when we arrived and Angela said you were here so we came on directly." He glanced towards Booth. "It's all legit." He said, defensively. "I got standing permission from my P.O. to leave the jurisdiction for up to three nights. She gave it me when Amy's Mom was ill and we had to go to Florida at short notice several times. You want to see?"

Booth shook his head and held out his hands in a conciliatory gesture. "No, that's OK, Russ."

Russ turned back to his sister. "Tempe, I need to ask you a favour…"

Brennan's face lit up. "You want to use the spare room in my apartment while you're here!" She began fishing around in her purse for the keys. "There's beer in the fridge and you'll find fresh linen in the cupboard by the bathroom. How about I call Dad and we have a family reunion tonight?"

Russ shook his head, firmly. "No, thanks. I'd love to come over tonight and spend time with you and Dad but Mrs Munro and I are staying with some friends of hers who run a community outreach project in the Highlands."

Brennan frowned. "That is a very insalubrious part of town, Russ. Full of drug addicts and convicted felons."

Her brother shrugged. "I should feel right at home then."

Brennan reached over to touch her brother's hand. "You're not a drug addict." She said seriously. "And when you finish your parole your debt to society will be paid and you will be able to start your life anew as a responsible, law abiding citizen."

Russ withdrew his hand and took a deep breath. "That's not true, Tempe. Do you know the number of civil disabilities I will face for the rest of my life, no matter how law abiding I am? Every State has a long list of occupations convicted felons can't join and some States prevent us from voting for the rest of our lives."

Sweets nodded. "That's true, although only a handful of States permanently prevent felons from voting nowadays."

Brennan frowned. "Well that seems logical. Convicted criminals have demonstrated a lack of judgement and social responsibility that is inconsistent with the qualifications required of an elector. It seems reasonable that they should demonstrate their rehabilitation over a period of time before the right to vote is returned."

Mrs Munro was staring at Brennan shocked by her apparent insensitivity but Russ, knowing his sister, did not take offense. "OK, Tempe but did you know that back home in North Carolina, I will automatically get back the right to vote as soon as my parole ends but, if we have to move to Florida to be closer to Amy's parents, I will never get back the vote unless I can get a full pardon? If, however, we moved here, to D.C., I could vote right now. Where's the logic in that?"

"It does seem inconsistent." His sister agreed.

"Did you know that in some States I could lose the kids due to my felony conviction? Or in others I wouldn't be allowed to work as a motor mechanic?" Russ warmed to his theme.

"OK, OK, we get the point." Booth interrupted. "I'm guessing this favour you want from Bones is related to all this."

Russ nodded. "Yeah. Have you heard of an organisation called Con-TRACT? Amy and I joined a few months ago."

Brennan and Booth shook their heads but Sweets answered. "Yes. It campaigns on behalf of ex-cons, am I right?"

Mrs Munro answered. "You are, Doctor Sweets. It started in California in the nineteen eighties and has since gone national. Full membership is only open to ex-felons and their families but other supporters can join as Associates."

Now that their attention was on her, both Booth and Sweets noted her expression, a mixture of grief and determination.

She went on. "My husband, Taylor Munro was the President of the Virginia Chapter. He got into trouble when he was young, used drugs and stole to support his habit. When he was in prison the last time he found the Lord, studied, and joined the Ministry. That was in 1984. He's been clean and law abiding ever since, working with other ex-offenders and at-risk youth. He became our President two years ago. He was found dead nearly a month back in an abandoned barn in Richmond County, where he'd been to give a talk at a local church. According to the Inquest, he had been smoking crack and overdosed."

"I'm sorry for your loss, Mrs Munro." Brennan said. "But, as I'm sure you know, statistics show that there is a high probability of addicts returning to their addictive behaviour, even after a period of abstinence."

Mrs Munro shook her head. "Not, Taylor." She said, firmly. "He'd been clean for nearly thirty years. After the Lord touched him, he never wanted to do drugs again. I understand from your brother, that you're an atheist, Dr Brennan so I don't expect you to believe that. If I tell you that he never touched crack even when he was using, would that convince you?"

"So, what do you want from us?" Booth prompted, gently.

"The Governor is working on an Executive Order which will give back the vote to thousands of ex felons living in Virginia. Taylor was a member of his Advisory Committee. There are plenty of people…powerful people who oppose this." She took a deep breath. "I believe my husband was murdered by those people and the reputation he'd built for himself is being dragged through the mud in order to stop the Governor issuing the Order." She dived into her purse and brought out a folded newspaper, spreading it out so the others could see the headlines.

"Gubernatorial Advisor in Crack Overdose"

"Death threatens Plan to Restore Voting Rights to Felons."

"I'm sorry for your loss too, Mrs Munro but if the local Coroner is satisfied that your husband died from a drug overdose, I'm afraid there's nothing the F.B.I. can do." Booth said.

The dignified elderly lady nodded. "Russ tells me you are a good guy but you're a cop. I don't expect you to help. You don't have any jurisdiction for one thing. That's why I called Russ and asked him to come introduce me to Dr Brennan. I want to ask her if she will examine my husband's body to prove he was murdered."

"Tempe, please." Russ implored. "This is important."

Brennan frowned. "I don't set out to prove anything." She said. "I follow the evidence. I would need to have your husband's cadaver in order to do what you ask."

"That won't be a problem. It was released back to me for burial after the Inquest. You can either come to Richmond or I can arrange to have it shipped here." Seeing that the forensic anthropologist was wavering, she dived back into her copious purse and brought out a folder. "This is the official record of the Inquest. It contains a copy of the autopsy performed by the County M.E. Read it, talk to Russ, sleep on it." Her control slipped and her agony at her loss showed in the raw emotion of her tone. "Please don't let everything my husband worked for, his memory, be ruined!"

Jeffersonian Institution, Next morning

Booth walked in to see Brennan frowning over the thin file before her.

He grinned at his partner. "Hi, Bones, so how did the family reunion go last night?"

The Forensic Anthropologist looked up. "It was very illuminating. I had not realised the number and extent of the legal disabilities facing convicted felons. Some are logical and sensible but others seem to have no rationale at all."

Booth leaned forward and put his hands on her desk. "So, you're going to take the case?" He asked.

"I am considering it." Brennan replied. "But I told Russ that I would speak to you first. You are my partner and I would not take this case if it would interfere with my work for the F.B.I."

Booth shrugged. "I don't see why it should. We have nothing on at the moment and our arrangement with the Jeffersonian doesn't prevent you doing other work." He grinned. "It's good you're supporting your brother, even if it turns out that Mr Munro did OD."

"I told Russ and Dad that my decision would not be affected by their status as convicted felons but by the facts of the case itself and they accepted that."

Booth tried to imagine Max's and Russ' expressions when they heard this and hid another grin. "So, what did your Dad say when he heard that Russ had joined this organisation?"

"He said he didn't see the point of voting as the government always got in." Brennan replied. A slight smile crossed her face, gone almost before it had appeared. "I think he was joking."

Booth felt his heart lurch at the expression that had lit up his partner's face, just for that moment. Professional, he reminded himself, I must remain professional.

"So," He asked, hurriedly. "What is it 'bout this case that makes you want to take it?"

"Firstly, Mrs Munro states that her husband has not used drugs for thirty years. Russ told me that he has met Mr Munro several times and he confirmed that the deceased did not show any sign of drug use. While it is true that, statistically, addicts return to their addiction, the evidence is that this is less likely the longer they are abstinent. It is also true that some addicts never return to their addiction. You are a case in point."

Booth sighed. Sometimes he thought he knew how Max and Russ must feel. "And secondly?" He asked.

Brennan picked up the file and handed it to him. "This is the autopsy report. It is clearly incomplete and inadequate. I have checked the credentials of the Medical Examiner who conducted it and he is a paediatrician by specialism." Her face softened. "Everyone deserves to know the full truth of how their loved one died and Mrs Munro is no exception."

Although Booth could think of situations where, in his opinion, it was kinder for loved ones NOT to know, he did not respond.

"Go for it Bones." Was all he said.

T.B.C.