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Chapter One
Temperance Brennan didn't usually get the chance to drink alone. Sure, she drank with Booth all the time, but she never really caught the chance to sit alone with her thoughts. Much to Brennan's surprise, she was almost alone physically as well. The only other people in the bar were a couple drunks in a booth in the back, but she managed to block them out easily enough.
The news was going on about something on the TV hung in the ceiling's corner above her, but she didn't bother to look at it. She must have gotten used to not owning a TV.
She'd only had two drinks, and it was mostly to celebrate. Her and Booth had put a serial killer away – Alex Nadeau. A man in his mid thirties. His victims had been all shapes, sizes, genders, and ages. He never stuck to one.
"Up for another drink?" The bartender snapped her out of her own thoughts. The large man lacking hair on the top of his head and plenty of tattoos covering every inch of his arms revealed by his t-shirt leaned against the counter in front of her.
"No thank you," Brennan answered. "I should be getting home."
"Watch out for that loose serial killer," the man joked. Quite obviously, he had no idea who she was or what she'd accomplished.
"Actually, he was caught at approximately four Friday afternoon," Brennan explained, counting the days since. It was Tuesday. Four days ago. "He is of no danger to anyone now."
"You didn't hear?" The tender raised one thick brow at her.
"Hear what? I was..." Brennan started, soon to be rudely cut off by him. Though annoyed by this, she kept quiet.
"He got out earlier today," the man explained. For reasons Brennan couldn't comprehend, he seemed excited about a loose serial killer. He leaned the slightest bit closer, as if nobody else knew about the news and he needed to tell her privately. "He could be anywhere now."
Brennan simply gaped for a moment. After all the work her and Booth had done to put Nadeau away, he was out and quite possibly killing again.
She rose from her seat, planning everything out in her head. The first thing she would do is call Booth. He would alert whoever needed alerting, and they would go on a search with her included.
"I have to go," she announced bluntly, already on her way out the door.
Rain began to soak her trench coat no sooner than when she got out the door, but she had more important things to think about than dry clothes. She dug her keys and phone out of her pocket, blindly hitting a button so her headlights would allow her to find her car.
She managed to get there without slipping on the wet surface of the parking lot and struggled with all the keys in her hand. Booth was right, why did she need so many? Heaving an annoyed sigh, she brought them closer to her eyes so she could see better.
Unusually unforeseen by her, Brennan's body was slammed with a mass way greater than her own, sending her stumbling backwards and leading to an inevitable collison with the wet ground.
She didn't need to look up, of course. She knew who would be there, and the side of her face that had made impact with the ground had begun to sting from a scrape mark she knew would be there if she were to look in a mirror.
Perhaps it was the change in the air that caused her to look up, or perhaps it was the deadly silence that had passed, but she regretted doing it. A gun was pointed straight at her, the silver of it glistening with rain.
"Don't try anything now, Doc. I'm not afraid to kill you right here, right now. You may be one hell of a fighter, but I'm the one with a gun."
