An older couple, Mr. and Mrs. Finley, got out of the car, leaving their 12 year old son sitting in the car, listening to his music player and playing Pokémon on his Game Boy. They met an African American woman outside.
"Mr. and Mrs. Finley thank you for meeting me." The lady stated.
"As our son's social worker, we get very concerned when you say you want to meet with us." Mr. Finley states, rather annoyed.
"Well, as you may not be aware of, neither was I until this morning, Lance's mother and father have had another child. A little girl." The social worker stated.
Mrs. Finley held the arm of her husband. "We are more than capable of taken her in as well."
"No need, she's going to live with her parents, until we are reported of otherwise." The social worker said disappointed, because she knew it was their legal right.
"What do we tell Lance?" Mr. Finley directed his attention to his son.
"Don't. Lance should not be told about Kylie Morgan. They gave her, Mrs. Sweets' maiden name, hoping it would make her less " The social worker said.
The elderly couple nodded, looking back to their son, as he brushed back his long jet black curls, and smiled at them, with an innocent twinkle in his dark brown eyes.
Lance Sweets woke to the sound of his alarm going off. 9:00. He would be meeting Trevor at the Community Center so he should really be there.
He ran his hand threw his black curls, and dropped it down over his dark brown eyes and flopped it onto his face. Getting up, he moved to his dresser, and just as he opened it, his phone rang.
He picked it up from his bedside table. "Yo, this is Lance."
Booth came from the other line. "Don't you got caller ID?"
Lance rolled his eyes, and scratched his head. "Sorry Booth."
Booth rolled around in his chair. "Look Sweets, Bones and Angela want to invite you over for some big family party, after the stress of the last case, and even though you're on leave they want you there to."
Lance pulled the shirt over his head. "Oh okay, when is it?"
Booth had a surprised tone in his voice. "Saturday."
Lance grabbed a pair of jeans, sliding them on, while he put the phone on his shoulder. "Yeah, okay, I will you don't need to keep checking up on me Dad."
Booth realized Sweets hung up so he closed his phone on the desk, and placed his head in his hands wondering what was so important that the young psychologist was keeping from him.
Lance got dressed and went out to his car, he had developed an easier sense of style since he went on leave. He pulled into the parking lot, and looked at all the children coming into the Community Center. Some where younger, others older. He got out of the car and headed in.
The desk clerk, Anya, sat flipping through a magazine and Lance smiled at her. She had long red hair, and was very noticing when he placed his hand on the desk just in front of her magazine.
"Well hello there, Lance." Anya smiled, blushing.
"Hey Anya."Lance was a trained psychologist, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what was off about Anya.
"What can I do for you today?" She pushed her magazine out of the way.
"Is Trevor still here?" Lance asked very politely.
"No, sorry you just missed him." Anya was slightly glad Lance's regular wasn't there.
"Anyone new?" Lance was really hoping to get the whole FBI thing out of his mind.
"Well there's Trevor's girlfriend over there." Anya pointed over to the other side of the room.
Lance turned and he noticed the girl Anya had been pointing at. She was sitting on the piano bench, writing in a notebook. Every few minutes she would look from the notebook to the piano but quickly turn back.
"Well, I think I might try her." Lance laughed, nodding to Anya, as she silently groaned.
As Lance got closer to the girl he studied her features, she had medium light brown almost blonde hair with bangs that fell just over her dark colored glasses.
She hadn't looked up from her notebook when he held out his hand. "Hey I'm Lance."
"Hi Lance." She had her attention focused on the notebook on her knee.
"Whatcha writing?" He asked, not wanting to push.
"Just stuff." She replied simply.
"So you know Trevor?" Lance asked, quickly and more quietly, as he sat down next to her.
The girl's head popped up at the name, and she was starring Lance in the face. He could see the green in her eyes and where they changed to a dark blue as the glasses met over them. There was something so familiar about her.
"Who are you?" She asked, something about the older man made her feel like she was looking into the face of an old friend.
"Like I said, I'm Lance." He smiled, holding out his hand again.
She took it in his and shook it. "I'm Kylie."
Lance turned around, so he could face the piano and he nudged Kylie's shoulder. "You play?"
"No, Trevor's been teaching the basics of Music Theory though." Kylie smiled, closing the notebook.
"You mean you want to go into Music Theory without knowing how to play the piano?" Lance laughed, taking the notebook from her and dropping it on the ground.
"Music Therapy as well. I find it very interesting." Kylie got a look in her eye that made Lance wonder.
"Like how? What's interesting about it?" Lance asked, turning his head.
She smiled. "It's like when certain notes played by different instruments can sound completely horrific, but when they all collaborate together it makes a harmony, kind of like people really."
"Really?" Lance pondered at the girl's theory.
"Well yeah, you know how people can be on the same subject and have completely different ideas and theories, while in other cases they collaborate together and ending creating something amazing. Like music." Kylie smiled looking down to the floor.
"Wow." Lance could only manage to speak that, as the girl's ideas made his thoughts render.
"I know. Silly right?" Kylie looked towards the ground, and Lance could tell she was shutting down.
"No, not at all. Amazing. Like it was in a journal or something." Lance admired the girl's thoughts.
"Well maybe not that. I mean, thanks. Nobody really ever thought my idea was amazing." Kylie laughed, tracing her hands over the white keys.
"How about we make a deal?" Lance offered, as Kylie's head turned.
"What kind of deal?" The teenage girl didn't know this man that well.
"Well, you keep feeding me these wonderful theories of yours, and I'll teach you to play piano." Lance laughed, running his fingers along the keys, playing a simple tune.
"Really? You mean you want to hear more?" Kylie's eyes popped from behind her glasses.
"Of course. When you become a great Music Therapist, I wanna be able to say I knew you back when you were still hanging around the center." Lance laughed, nudging the girl's shoulder.
"You got yourself a deal, Lance." Kylie shook his hand, and the two turned back towards the piano smiling as Lance started to play another small tune.