A/N: Well I'm back! Please review!

"James" he answered his cell. "Hi, it's me" Trinity said. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm staying with Booth" James stayed quiet for a moment, unsure of what to say. "You know I'd look after you if I could, but my agent told me I'd be better off doing the book signing at home."

"It's okay and don't worry we've got a new case."

"You know you shouldn't be working."

"James, I broke a couple of ribs, hardly cause for worry."

"Just take care. Bye."

"Bye," she sighed and struggled to get up off Booth's sofa. Maybe I'm not so fine, she thought, settling herself back down.

Booth pulled up next to a small shop, surrounded by squints and police tape. "Sit'n'Spin? A laundrette?" Brennan asked. "Yeah, you won't believe where the bones are," he said, flashing his badge. "Let me guess, one of the washing machines?"

"Half right."

"What? How can I be half right?"

"Just trust me, Bones," he told her, as he got out his cell. "Hi Booth," Trinity waved at her laptop. He had a video conversation set up and spun his phone round to wave. "Booth, it's the dead body I want to see, not yours."

"It's nice to know a corpse is more appealing than me" he said, focusing the camera on the crime scene. "What's so special that you needed to call me anyway?" she asked. Booth directed his cell towards a washing machine, where Brennan was crouched down. "Let me guess, the old head in the washer cliché?"

"Yeah, the body is back at the lab and Bones wanted to check the skull out here."

"Ange, where's the skull?" Hodgins asked staring at the corpse on the examination table. "I don't know, but if you ask me there's something weird going on round here."

"What do you mean?"

"Brennan called Booth in the early hours and said that the headless biker man was outside her apartment."

"Maybe she just wanted an excuse to see him."

"As much as I would like that, she doesn't do that kind of thing. She would've just waited to see him at work," she replied. Hodgins was momentarily upset by Angela's lack of enthusiasm towards his theory. "You might still have work to do anyway," Zack added. Neither squint had noticed the student, which wasn't unusual because he generally liked to stay out of the way. "The victim was decapitated, Dr. Brennan told me to tell you to identify anything left behind by the weapon."

"Why are you only telling me this now?"

"Because you've been too busy conspiring," he shot back calmly. Angela laughed at her fellow scientists, but before she could do anything else she heard someone's card swiping. "Heads up," Booth said, tossing a bagged skull towards Zack, who was only stood a few yards away. "What've you done with my best friend?" the artist teased. "She's in her office. She won't stay with me, so we're taking some of her stuff to your place." Brennan walked over with her keys in hand, "Are we going?"

"Take your time," Angela laughed, motioning towards the glass doors of the Jeffersonian.

"Why did we have to go to your office anyway?" Brennan asked her partner as she got out of his SUV. "Because I needed to pick some files."

"We haven't even identified the victim yet."

"There have been other cases like this, Bones," he said. By now they had reached Brennan's door, but the anthropologist just looked at it as if she'd never seen it before. "Is there something wrong, Bones?" he asked. Instead of answering, she pushed the door slightly so it creaked open. Inside everything had been thrown across the room, including several files. "Do you still think I was over reacting?" she asked, stepping through the doorway. Before she could do anything Booth grabbed her arm and yanked her back. "What the hell are you doing?"

"There might still be someone in there," he said, reaching for his gun. She followed him round her apartment, checking every room. "Booth!" Brennan shouted after they had checked all the rooms. The agent slid into the bathroom, where his partner stood pointing to the wall. 'Perhaps there is a little bit of witch in you, Katrina' he read the fresh red paint. "Whoever did this must've got the wrong apartment."

"Why?"

"It's addressed to Katrina," she told him. He flicked out his cell and dialled a number. "Go get your stuff, you're staying with me," he ordered, waiting for the person he had called to answer.

The Jeffersonian was dark and Angela was just about to leave, when she saw Brennan and Booth walking through the lab. "When I said take your time, I didn't expect you to take me seriously," the artist laughed, following her best friend towards her office. "I'd leave her if I was you."

"Why? What's wrong?"

"Someone's broken into Bones' apartment and believe me, she isn't happy," he stopped Angela as she tried to follow Brennan further. "I've persuaded her to stay at mine. No offence, but I think this guy means business and if Bones doesn't scare him, I don't think you will."

"That reminds me," she said, digging her hand deep into her pocket before passing Booth a piece of paper, "here."

"Watch your heads," he read aloud. "I'm guessing this has something to do with the investigation?"

"Where did you find this?"

"It was in the victim's hand."

"Do you know anyone called Katrina?"

"No, why?"

"Because Bones' stalker left a note on her wall," he flipped his phone open and showed her the picture. "So we're presuming the guy who was outside Brennan's apartment is the murderer?"

"Ange, we don't even know if there was a guy, but I'm sure as hell going to find out."