A/N : A few days and Bones is back! I can't wait, plus we were lucky to have so many spoilers lately! As promised, it's Friday, so here's chapter 1. Enjoy!

Chapter 1 – No place like home

Friday, January 4th

Sasha Miller had everything to be happy: A fulfilling job as a lawyer in one of the best law offices in DC, a big, luxurious apartment with an incredibly huge walk-in closet full of designer outfits, and even a beautiful, loving Persian cat. She had beauty, she had money, and she had success; however, she had no one to share it with. And at 32, it represented a big hole in her life. That's why tonight she decided that she had better go meet Prince Charming, for she didn't feel like waiting for him forever.

Entering the bar, she felt confident in her Yves Saint Laurent dress, and was quite satisfied with the way she had managed to do her straight, black hair. She beamed when she glanced around, for the place was crowded with handsome men. She smiled and laughed all night long, for she hadn't been having such a good time in what seemed an eternity. And she was on cloud nine when she went out of the bar, walking with pride beside an elegant man in his thirties.

She was so happy that she forgot her number one love rule: Never to accept going to his place on the first date. Either she had been drinking too much, or she had become a woman of easy virtue, because she jumped in his car without an ounce of hesitation instead of taking a taxi, and didn't think twice when he offered her a last drink at his apartment.

Everything in the sequence of the evening was so much better than what she had hoped for, and everything about this man seemed so perfect that she didn't even protest when, after he had slowly removed all her clothes thus submitting her to a both delightful and intolerable wait, he decided to tie her wrists to the posts of the bed. She had never been fond of this kind of sexual practices but this night, with this man, she didn't dare refuse; actually, she felt slightly more excited at the idea. She even let him tie her ankles; it was a little weird, but if it pleased him, why not. And she got very curious about what he was going to do when instead of taking off his own clothes like she expected him to, he opened the drawer of his night table.

However, she began enjoying this little foreplay far less when she realised that he now held a knife in his hand. She couldn't help holding her breath when he let the cold, sharp blade brush the delicate skin between her breasts before he slid it down to her belly.

"You know, I—I'm not sure I'm comfortable with all this. Maybe you could just untie me and— Or at least remove the—"

With a slight movement of her head, she directed her gaze to the knife, now on the side of her left thigh, and hoped that he'd be understanding enough not to get angry at her for her change of mind.

"I'm afraid it's too late," he teased, though she was reassured by not feeling blade against her skin anymore.

"I've always known you were this kind of girl."

She tried to move her eyes from his hand, feeling silly; but he hadn't let go of the knife and was now bringing it to her face.

"What?" she asked, trying to laugh inwardly at how stupid she was to be scared by him when she had been so horny before this little scary, yet harmless game.

"I thought you wanted to please me."

She shivered when she couldn't help noticing that something in his voice had changed. When it had been slightly trembling of what she had believed was desire, it was now more like he was threatening her. Was he one of those guys who like role playing during sex?

"I do, but—"

"You don't recognise me, do you?"

She stared at him, puzzled and nervous at the enigmatic smile he gave her.

"What do you mean, I—I don't understand, I don't remember seeing you before tonight."

"Of course you don't. Nobody did, at the time."

His gaze had changed briefly. For a couple of seconds, he had looked hurt, almost sad. But now his expression had turned hard again.

"Is it about a case? You were one of my clients, maybe?" she tried.

He shook his head as a response.

"No, of course not," she mumbled agitatedly, mostly for herself. "I always remember my clients. Are you a client's relative? You know, whatever it is that you want, I can— I'd be pleased to help you, just—"

His unreadable smile grew slightly wider. "You're far from it, Sasha. Very far from it."

Her muscles tensed unwillingly when he leaned over her, but she relaxed a little when he just whispered in her ear. He whispered his name, but as hard as she tried to remember, it didn't ring a bell. She felt his warm breath on the skin of her neck, and stopped breathing herself, until he straightened his spine to look at her.

"You recognise me, now?"

Although the answer was 'no', she nodded her head anyway, persuaded that it was the best thing to do.

"No you don't, you little liar!"

She let out a squeal when the blade dug into the mattress next to her face.

"See what you make me do?"

He took the knife out, seeming calmer.

"Admit that you don't. Say it."

"I'm sorry, I don't— I don't remember you."

"Of course you don't. You were way too obsessed with your French manicure, your fancy new car and this stupid boyfriend of yours. What's his name again?"

He stared at her; his head slightly cocked to the side, as if expecting her to answer. When she didn't, numb with panic and confused, he did it for her.

"Brad."

Right, Brad. The football player. Her boyfriend in high school. How did he know that?

"No wonder you don't remember him. You had nothing in common. He was a jackass, and you're a smart chick. Life is unfair, don't you think? You have a good job but you're all alone and desperate. What a pity for a pretty girl like you. See, you'd better have ended up with me. You, a successful lawyer, me, a wealthy investor. What a great couple we would have made."

She tried to lessen her panic trying to figure out what his point was. Surely, he was trying to scare her. It couldn't be otherwise. This kind of things only happens in movies, on television, on the news. She couldn't hold back a sob; she didn't want to be on the news.

"As I said, and I'm quite proud of that, my investment choices brought me a nice little sum. You know what I first did?"

The answer stuck in her throat, she shook her head instead.

"Well, I gave part of it to one of the best surgeons in LA. That's why, anyway, you wouldn't have been able to recognise me quite well."

The odd thing was, he didn't really seem nuts; he seemed to know exactly what he was saying, what he was doing, and why he was doing it. Assuredly, this was way more terrifying.

He took her left hand in his and inspected her long, varnished nails it for a moment before lifting his gaze to her watery eyes.

"Remember when I asked you to go to the prom with me? Well, I did anticipate a 'no', but I thought that you would at least have made an effort to invent something. Remember what you did?"

She didn't.

"You simply laughed at me."

He didn't leave her any time to recollect her memories. She howled with pain when he pulled off the nail of her middle finger.

"Oh, by the way— You can scream as much as you want, sweetheart. No worries. Nobody will hear you."

Indeed, she didn't hold back her cries when, one by one, he removed all the nails of her left hand, and she thought she would pass out when he seized her other hand. But a sudden change of mind made him immediately put it down. Panting, sobbing and moaning all at the same time, she watched him open the drawer of the night table and pull out a thin, simple string.

"You're lucky, I'm in a good mood. Or too impatient, I don't know. Anyway, I don't feel like making you wait too long."

She let out a moan of misery when he whispered a farewell in her ear. Then, ignoring her hopeless supplications, he wound the string around her neck and pulled it tight.

And only when she was desperately gasping for air, just before everything went black, she remembered the face of the boy she had laughed at in front of her friends.

Temperance Brennan pushed the door closed behind her with a kick before she dropped her heavy bulky luggage on the floor. She wasn't a soft woman but she couldn't deny how enjoyable it was to find the warmth and comfort of her apartment. She took off her shoes and collapsed into a chair. After eliminating all the tension and exhaustion of her body in a deep sigh, she checked her mail. Bank report, phone bill, electricity bill, and as everything comes in three, water bill. Merry holidays to you, too.

Huffing, she got to her feet and pressed the button of the answering machine to listen to her messages. The half-feminine, half-robot voice told her that she had one new message left on Wednesday, January 2nd.

"Sweetie, I hope you're having fun in Peru, although I wonder how anyone can ever have fun digging up bones in the cold during the holidays, but you know I respect you for what you do, and that I'm happy when you are. Anyway, gimme a call when you're back, okay? Talk to you soon."

Hearing Angela's voice made her smile. She headed for the bathroom as the strident beep resounded in the room. Her clothes slid to the floor and she jumped into the shower. The hot water washed over the remaining sweat and dirt on her, gently peeling them off her body, but not the thoughts which had been tormenting her since she had left.

"It was like kissing my brother."

Each time she remembered the scene, she rolled her eyes at how stupid she had been. Caroline hadn't bought it, of course. How could anyone believe that? Why would such a phrase escape her mouth in the first place? Why hadn't she said something like— like— Like nothing! Why had she accepted the dare, anyway? Well, the answer was quite simple: It was the result of a rational decision. Refusing to take the dare would have proved that she was uncomfortable with the idea of kissing her partner; taking it allowed her to bring Christmas to her family. Caroline was a stubborn woman, and she seemed to be even more inflexible when she was feeling puckish. Whatever her decision, the lawyer won. It hadn't been hard to choose.

As always, she ended up blaming the woman for all the annoying things that would happen. What did she want; to mess up things between her and Booth for her own selfish enjoyment? Now, there would always be this inevitable awkwardness between them, at least for some time. She hated this idea, because it would affect them as a team. And she hated to be distracted in her work. What's more, Sweets would bring that up again with pleasure during their therapy sessions. Maybe he was in cahoots with Caroline, who knew?

She turned off the shower. Now, to cap it all, she was thinking conspiracy à la Hodgins.

She wringed out her hair before she stepped out of the tub. The towel on the floor felt soft under her bare feet. Yes, it felt good to be home.

With the side of her hand, she wiped the moisture from the mirror and stared at her reflection. But it wasn't her reflection that she was seeing; it was Booth's face, the last time she had seen him. The lights of the Christmas tree dancing on his cheeks, and this tender smile of his. She had seen it clearly, although from far. Nobody had ever offered her such a present. A present that meant something, a present that had brought her on the verge of tears. For a moment, she had felt like she couldn't hear the girls' squeals of joy anymore, or Amy's laugh. As if even the window and the distance that separated them had disappeared. But it had only lasted for a moment. She had managed to keep herself from crying, and after a last goodbye wave to her partner, she had shared with her family the best Christmas she had had in a long time. The trailer, the tree, the magic. Somehow, all this was thanks to Booth. And somehow, it bothered her.

She averted her eyes from the mirror and grabbed her hairbrush from the drawer under the sink. She untangled her hair without care, and when there was nothing more to untangle, she put the brush back where it belonged. As she dried her hair, the feeling of the hot air on the skin of her face and neck helped her to calm down. When she was finished, she slipped on a fluffy pair of pajamas and slid underneath the covers. She closed her eyes and let out a sigh. A relaxed one, this time.

Definitely, there's no place like home.

A/N : So what do you think? Does the case seem interesting so far? And what about the rest? I can't wait for Monday, to see what has changed in BB relationship after all that happened in Santa in the Sluch.

In chapter 2, I'll give you a nice scene between Booth and Parker, and for the first time, a part of the chapter will be from Cam's POV. Have a nice week! But it WILL be a wonderful week as our favorite show is back!