A/N: Written for the Bonesology Challenge: Tell a story about a day in the life of a minor character. The security guard is not someone we've met, just a character I created specifically for this story. I don't own any part of Bones.

This one is a little different than normal. Thanks for reading.

I have the most important job in the Jeffersonian.

You may not agree. Perhaps you are a firefighter, or a police officer. Maybe you deliver babies or teach children. You might not do these jobs in the Jeffersonian, but you feel they are just as important.

All of those are noble jobs. Each one makes the world a better place. Even if you don't work where I do.

But I still don't think it's as important as mine.

So right now, you're probably thinking, what could I do every day that is more important than the jobs I've already mentioned.

It's definitely not what you're thinking.

My job is to guard the bodies of the dead.

Now your thinking has changed. The dead don't need a guard, right? They're dead, what could they possibly need to be guarded from? You can't hurt the dead.

Of course, you can't hurt the dead. They are dead, after all. But that's why they need protection the most. The dead can't protect themselves, making my job the most important.

Because, is there anything more important than protecting those that can't protect themselves?

My day begins like most of yours, I'm sure. I get out of bed and prepare for work. The coffee maker is on a timer, so its always ready when I get to the kitchen. Sometimes my wife is there to kiss me good morning. Yesterday she was. Today, I missed her. Our kids are grown up and off living their own lives now. My wife and I married young, had our children while we were still young, so I'm probably not as old as you think.

I've been at the Jeffersonian for too many years to count. It's the perfect job. I love the hours, love what I'm doing every day. The employees there are great. I can't imagine any place I'd rather be.

I like to get there early; earlier than the rest. Which is rather difficult to do when Dr. Temperance Brennan works in the same department I work in. Some days I'm more successful at it than others. I think, now, it depends on how persistent her husband is at getting her to keep normal, or at least semi-normal hours.

The lab is quiet this morning, but it won't be for long. I like it this way. The quiet of anticipation. Of solving crimes. Of laughter and maybe tears depending on what the day brings. In a place like this, a person can never be sure what will happen. I think that's another reason why I've always loved it here.

Today, Dr. Brennan swipes in before me. Probably because there is a body on the platform waiting for her expertise. It arrived yesterday afternoon, after a particularly vicious crime that left many of my colleagues reeling in shock. I don't think I was quite as shocked as the rest of them. Part of me thinks it's because I've spent so much time on this floor, guarding the dead. I've seen the worst of what humans can do to each other and there are nights I go home and want to weep for what I've seen.

There is a grim look of determination in her eyes. It's a look I've seen often. She always wears it when she steps on to the platform. That look used to worry me because it always seemed to be there, no matter what the situation. Somewhere, in her life, she'd forgotten how to let herself be loved by others. It had bothered me for a long time. My wife and I frequently talked about it. Until Agent Booth showed up. And put love and laughter into her eyes, too.

You know how there are moments in life that are like stop signs? You can measure memories by which came before the stop and which came after? Agent Booth was a stop sign for Dr. Brennan. Her life changed so much after he started coming into the lab. I can't imagine him any other place now, other than by her side.

The man who put that look in her eyes is following closely behind her. I'm sure he is as upset as she is, and he looks it this morning. His eyes are dark, angry. They warn people to step back, to avoid him. Others might back away, but not his friends who know him well.

Agent Booth pulls the cards from his pocket and has his pen ready before his wife even has the gloves on her hand. Inside my head, I smile in amusement. There is still too much flesh on the body for Dr. Brennan. She won't be able to tell him much. It won't stop him from asking though.

Agent Booth doesn't take long to prove me correct. "What can you tell me, Bones?"

Shooting him a glance, she looks up to watch Dr. Saroyan and Ms. Montenegro join her on the platform. Dr. Hodgins joins them as well, he simply comes from a different direction.

It was tough to watch him go through the adjustment to his paralysis. There were times, when he spoke to his wife, that I wanted to knock his ass out of that wheelchair. Probably would have cost me my job, but at the time, it certainly seemed worth it. But underneath that beautiful skin, Ms. Montenegro is a tough women. Even when he wanted to give up, she wouldn't. I was so proud of them the day they smiled at each other on that platform, for what seemed like the first time in months, and the love was obvious again. No matter what happens with his recovery, whether he walks again or not, they'll be okay.

Cam stood over the body, also pulling gloves on her hands. "Now, Booth," she chastised, "you know there's too much flesh here for Dr. Brennan."

"Fine," he sighed, knowing his old friend was right. "What can you tell me?"

"Shot," Cam said bluntly.

Booth sighed. "Can you tell me something I don't know?"

From my position, I could tell Agent Booth was trying so hard to be patient with the people around him. It took a brave man to work successfully with that many personalities and not only had he found a way to work with them, he'd become friends with all of them.

"Four times," Cam continued, as if he hadn't spoken. "Three in the chest. One in the neck."

"Based on the x-rays," Dr. Brennan interjected, pulling up the referenced photos, "the trajectory on the neck wound was downward."

Agent Booth looked up from his cards. "The shooter was taller? How did he shoot him in the neck?"

"Not taller. I think our victim was shot as he fell forward to his knees," Dr. Brennan said.

Pulling my attention from the people working above me, I let my eyes drift around the lab. I wasn't doing my job if I spent all of my time focusing on what was happening on the platform. More than just the core team worked on this floor and it was my job to take care of them all.

Off to my left, one employee accepted a delivery with a quick signature. She took the box with a smile and headed back to her office. I wondered if she'd be able to find it later. I'd never seen as office as disorganized as hers. As I made my rounds, a simple look inside her work area had the ability to make me cringe. I'd heard talk that she'd been spoken to several times about cleaning it up, but as of yet, that hadn't happened.

To my right, a young man and women appeared to be deep in conversation about something serious. Until he gave her a smile that hinted at other things, and she reached out to give his hand a quick squeeze before she walked away. It seemed another office romance was in the making.

Some of the employees are definitely better at hiding that sort of thing. Dr. Hodgins and his wife tried, but some of the areas they'd picked for their trysts weren't quite as camera free as they'd assumed. Some of my colleagues started making sure cameras suddenly malfunctioned, if they appeared in an out of the way place. Then they'd make casual comments about new cameras being installed, always within earshot.

Now, Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan were much better about that sort of thing. There was only that one time, but for some odd reason, the cameras malfunctioned that day, too.

Yes, we definitely take care of our own here.

I brought my attention back to the platform as Dr. Brennan descended the stairs, Agent Booth close behind her. I can see his fingers fiddling with something in his pocket and I know he is trying not to place his hand at the small of her back. It is those little touches that mean so much to those of us who watched the two of them circle each other for years. A simple press of a hand, a gentle touch can mean so much, if a person knows what they are looking for.

At the bottom of the stairs, Dr. Brennan stops and looks to her left, her eyes filling with tears. Quickly, she blinks them away, but not before Agent Booth sees them.

"You okay, Bones?" he asks gently.

She nods. "It's just…he was always here, you know? Always right here. I just came down the stairs and looked, and he wasn't there. I just forgot for a moment. I'll adjust."

I'm oddly touched by her tears. She shows so little emotion, despite the things she has seen. I wanted to reach out and touch her hand. To tell her I was still there, watching over her. Watching over all of them.

But I couldn't.

Maybe I should have told you that from the beginning.

Not only was it my job to protect the dead, it was also my job to protect the living.

I wasn't aware, never worried that my job would cost me so much. Still, when the moment came, I made my sacrifice willingly. If given the choice, I'd do it again, even knowing now how it would end.

You see, yesterday, someone made it into the Jeffersonian, in the lab area, with a weapon.

He shouldn't have. But there were breakdowns, mistakes, money had been exchanged. I'll never find out exactly how. I could stay, I suppose, but I don't intend to.

I was wearing my vest. But that third shot had hurt so damn much when it hit that I fell forward. It was as I fell that the fourth shot hit me. I wasn't the only one who was shot, I'm proud to say. I managed to shoot the assailant as well. Not quite as well as I'd hoped, he managed to run, but there was blood left behind. I was sure there was more than enough evidence that the team I'd watched for years would find my killer.

I make no apologies for shooting back. I only wish my aim had been a little truer.

Dr. Brennan made sure my body didn't leave the Jeffersonian. She held herself responsible for finding my killer. It wasn't her fault, and Agent Booth will make sure she knows that. The heart she hides from the world is definitely a secret weapon. If I could still cry, I'd weep for the respect she's showing me.

This time Booth doesn't hesitate to touch her, pulling her into an embrace, right there at the bottom of the stairs. "He did his job, Bones. I'm proud of him. I can't always be here to protect you. It's a relief to me there are others here who will."

Of course, I would. I did. She was in her office at the time. There was no way he was getting past me to get to her. I'd made a promise to myself that would never happen while I was on duty. I kept that promise.

The friends, partners, lovers, pull apart and head toward her office. With a last glance, I turn away and walk in the other direction. I could stay, wait to find out why someone wanted to kill Dr. Brennan, but I know it isn't my place anymore. Won't be again.

That's okay. On the other side of the door in front of me, there are other adventures. I'm ready.

Maybe, they'll have a job for a good security guard. My experience should speak for itself.