Okay, this was faster than I thought, because I should be in my car right now, heading to work. That's okay. This is for all those lovely people that reviewed. Thanks! I always appreciate input. If you have an idea about how the story should go, feel free to tell me, but there's no guarantee that it'll end up in there. Anyhow, this one's longer, but finals are coming and papers are due, so the next might be a longer time coming. Sorry. :P

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters. They are the property of Fox Network, except the one's you don't recognize. (ie, dead girl, boyfriend, etc.) I'll give them back when I'm done playing.

Brennan examined the photo. The bones showed that the victim had been arranged in a spread-eagle position, her arms and legs flung out and her head turned to the side. The bones were brown and stained from being buried in rich black soil, and at a glance she could tell that the victim was female, from the shape of the pelvic girdle. She shifted her attention back to Booth. He was staring at the photo, and she could see the struggle in his face. He met her eyes and smiled grimly.

"I'll get him now, Bones. I've got a body, and I've got you. This jerk-off doesn't have a chance."

Brennan felt the weight of his expectations heavily. Even though she knew that every case demanded her best, she felt the pressure with this case, for Booth. She knew she had to solve it, For Booth.

"I need the bones. This photo isn't enough. I need…"

"I know," Booth interrupted. "They're being sent over, along with soil samples from the burial site for Hodgins to poke through."

"He doesn't poke, Booth. He's a scientist. He analyzes."

"He plays with bugs, Bren, and he analyzes crud."

"Easy, kids. You don't want to offend a squint." Angela's voice from the computer screen broke up their quarrel.

"Hi, Angela. No offense to the squints."

Angela smiled. "None taken, Booth. I know that subtlety isn't a big deal for you. Bren, I need to talk to you about the Anasazi skeleton you sent down this morning."

"Sorry, Ange. Booth's got a new case that I've got to focus on. We'll have to work on the Anasazi later."

"Okay, but when you get a chance, I've got a big surprise for you. Whatever you need on this case, you know I'm here. Just let me know when you're ready for a sketch."

"I'll call you. Thanks, Ange." The screen went blank, and she turned toward the agent at her side. "Take me to the bones."

The skeleton law on the table, carefully arranged into the ghostly form of a life. The delicate bone structure of the skull and the length of the bones indicated the youth of the victim. The shape of the pelvis was female, and Brennan gently stroked her gloved finger down a fracture in one of the thin ribs. A groove in the spinal column showed the passage of a bullet through her body. The fractures on the ribs, arms and legs were evidence of serious trauma. She picked up the victim's left ulna and examined a fracture closely.

"What have you got, Bones?" Booth leaned over her shoulder, crowding her space. She shrugged him off, but did not vent her frustration orally like she usually would have done. She took a magnifying glass and peered through it at the spider web of lines on the bones.

"This break was pre-mortem, by several months or even years. It had time to heal completely. It's a twisting break, like when someone grabs and arm and twists, suddenly." She demonstrated by grabbing Booth's arm and wrenching it.

"Ow!" He snatched his arm back, rubbing it carefully. "What possessed you?"

Bren's eyes had the glazed-over look of concentration. "I've seen breaks like this before, Booth, and always on abused women or children. A man's hand has enough strength to twist a woman's arm enough to create these 'spider-web' fractures, and a man or woman can create them in the soft bones of a child." She shook her head, sadly. When she met Booth's eyes, she saw the pain in them. "You couldn't have done anything differently, could you?" It was more of a challenge than a question.

"I don't…"

"Could you?" she interrupted.

"No. At the time, I was doing everything that I could. There was nothing, Bren. We never saw any signs of abuse. Her boyfriend was out of town when she disappeared, and he rushed back as soon as we contacted him. His fear and pain were genuine. I've kept tabs on him over the years, and he's never gotten past it, never gotten married or had another serious girlfriend. He's always been sure that she was alive somewhere, that she'd come back. At least now he has closure, I guess."

Brennan placed her hand softly on his broad shoulder. The dark material of his FBI-issue suit shifted with his breathing, warmed by the contact with his skin. Unexpectedly, she wished that he hand was ungloved, uncovered. She let her hand fall heavily to her side. Ever since Booth had raced to her rescue from the hospital and again in New Orleans, she'd felt slightly uncomfortable with him. She wasn't ready for a relationship, and didn't want to jeopardize their partnership with a failed romance. He tried to meet her eyes, but she wouldn't look at him, so he crooked a finger under her chin to pull her gaze up. Her nearly translucent grey-blue eyes were clouded with uncertainty and something more. Misunderstanding the origin of her anxiety, he tried to reassure her.

"We'll catch him. You and me and these bones, we'll get his this time."

Nodding her head, grateful that he had misunderstood her fear, she pulled her chin from his grasp. The delicate skin of her jaw burned from the contact with his hands. "I need to get his skull to Angela."

"We have her face, Bones. We don't need an id after the dental records were confirmed."

"Angela will give us more than a face, Booth. She gives us a scenario, a visual representation of the events surrounding the victim's death from the information that we give her. She's a scientist, not just an artist."

"I wasn't dissing her. I just didn't think." Brennan's brow furrowed at the word "dissing." He laughed. "It means disrespect. I keep forgetting that slang doesn't register with you. I meant no disrespect to Angela, Temperance."

"No you're making fun of me. I'm not stupid, Seeley." She stressed the use of his first name. He grinned at her, ready to make a snappy come back, but his cell phone rang.

"Saved by the bell."

Brennan shrugged. There was more pop culture shining through, references to things that she never understood. She gave Booth a blank stare.

"You know, the television show? Zack, Screech, Kelly, Lisa, Slater? Any of this ringing a bell?"

"No bells here. I guess I must have missed it."

Booth shook his head. The teen revolution of the nineties, and she missed it. He was learning not to be surprised anymore by the things that she never experienced. He put the phone to her ear. "Booth." He made the appropriate hums at times, said thanks, and flipped the phone closed. "That was my guy who was running down the former boyfriend. He just found him, in the morgue."

Brennan's eyebrows arrowed toward her hairline. "He's dead?"

"No, Bones, he's hanging out in the morgue because it's a happening place."

"That was sarcasm, right?"

"Yeah. Yeah, Brennan. That was sarcasm." He grabbed the manila file folder from the cabinet in the corner of the room. "Let's go."

He strode from the room, leaving Brennan to scramble after him.