Disclaimer: Bones and all related characters are property of Fox, Hart Hanson and Kathy Reichs. Wolf is based on a charcter in the Alex Rider series and as such is copyright to the author. Cat is my own creation. this is a work of fan fic, so no profits are made

The Grand Old Duke of York

Prologue

Her voice woke him. At first he thought it was part of the nightmares, like the heat, the gunfire and the screams. Then he realised that it was real and nearby.

He got to his feet, eyes scanning the apartment until he saw the red light of the answering machine blinking at him.

So she hadn't invaded his home. Yet.

"Booth. It's me. Pick up the phone. I know you're there."

He snorted and got a glass of water.

"Booth. This is important!" she sounded impatient, desperate even.

"If you don't talk to me soon, I'll come to you!"

Walking over he unplugged the machine and took the phone off the hook. He then walked back to his bed.

"So the marks on the skull were due to decomposition, not mutilation?" Booth asked, pushing open the door of the diner.

Dr Temperance "bones" Brenan nodded.

"The marks are consistent with that."

She probably said more, but he didn't hear her. Because at that moment he saw her. Sitting with Wolf at a table only a few yards from him, drinking a soft drink.

Ignoring Bones he pushed over to the table.

"What are you doing here?"
"Nice to see you too booth." She replied, slurping with her straw in the same way Parker did. He hated her for that. It gave her an innocence that she was not entitled to.

"What are you doing here?"
"Like I told you, if you won't come to us, we'll have to come to you."
"Who's the Dame?" Wolf asked running his eyes over Bones. She thankfully seemed unaware of it, having just spotted the rest of the squints.

"You leave her out of this!"
"Maybe we should go talk to her." She observed stirring her drink with her straw, making the ice clatter against the glass. "She might be interested in what we have to say."
"You wouldn't…" her head shot up and their eyes met. He knew she would.

"Not here." he hissed angrily.

"Where?" she demanded. That was good. It meant she was prepared to meet him half way.

"Here" he said, scribbling the address of a bar on a napkin. A bar a long way from here. Where they wouldn't meet bones.

"In an hour."
She took the napkin from him

"In one hour." There was no mistaking the threat in her voice.