Brennan drove down the beautiful tree lined street and parked her car in front of the rambling yellow house at 22 Hickory Lane. She got out quickly, and, intent on her mission, she strode up to the broad front porch without stopping to speak to anyone. Flashing her credentials at the uniformed officer, she pushed through the front doors and walked toward the back of the house to the formal dining room where members of the Jeffersonian team were gathering evidence as they prepared the body for transport. She glanced toward the corpse as the technicians began to zip the body bag around it and quickly looked away, somewhat surprised at how upset she felt. It was hard to imagine that those remains used to be the vivacious news reporter that millions of people watched on network television every evening. This was someone Brennan had known personally…and now Hannah was gone...

"Cam? Where is he?" Breathless from exertion and worry, Brennan bounced on the balls of her feet as she looked around the room and then at Cam, who was on her haunches next to a puddle of blood. "Where's Booth? I need to see him immediately. Please tell me where he is..."

"Booth's in the kitchen. He's still pretty shaken up, and he'll probably be mad as hell that I called you…" Cam grimaced as she shrugged at Brennan…"but I figured you're going to be the one who can help him the most right now." She stood up and looked past Brennan toward the kitchen. "I don't think I've seen him this upset in years, except maybe that time you were shot with that blood bullet at the Jeffersonian…" Cam's voice trailed off and she looked embarrassed, wondering if she might've said something wrong, but Brennan seemed unconcerned about it.

"I understand. Thank you for calling me…" Brennan turned and was trying to make her way through the crowd of investigators when she heard someone calling out to her.

"Dr. B...what are you doing here?" Special Agent Aubrey waved at her from across the room. "The body isn't the kind you usually work on…" He came across the room to where she was standing, glancing at the body bag, clearly still disturbed by the state of the remains. "There's lots of flesh…"

"Oh, hello, Agent Aubrey. It's quite alright. Dr. Saroyan called me. She said that Booth thinks the victim might be Hannah Burley and that he was extremely agitated. Is he in the kitchen?"

"Actually, he's out on the back porch getting some fresh air. He was really upset, and kind of shaky, but I think he's better now…" He watched as Brennan passed through the French doors that led outside, and then called after her. "I'm not sure that talking to him about the murder is a good idea right now…he said he wanted some time and space..."

"Booth?" Brennan walked to the side of the house and peered around the corner. "Are you out here, Booth?" Finally she saw him sitting on a bench under a large tree in the pleasant backyard and she walked across the yard to join him.

"Hey, Bones.", he said softly, without looking up at her. Rubbing his eyes, he shuddered a bit. "Dammit! I knew Cam was gonna call you. Look, I really don't need someone to rescue me. I'm just fine, okay? It's not like I'm some little kid that needs his Mommy. I'm a grown man, and this is what I have to do for my job. I can handle it, alright? We've seen a lot worse on some of the cases we've had together..."

Putting her hands on her hips, Brennan tilted her head to one side and rolled her eyes at her husband. "I know you're fine, Booth, but Cam was concerned about you. She said you were extremely agitated and that you might need some comforting, so I came out here to find you. I don't understand why you would be unhappy about that. As your wife, that's part of my job, correct? I'm supposed to comfort you during the difficult times that occur in your life."

He chuckled a bit at her description of a wife's job in spite of himself, but it was obvious that he was still angry about Cam's phone call. "I'm upset because I'm a Deputy Director with the FBI, that's why. I don't need the cavalry to ride after me just because I got a little queasy and shed a few tears when I looked at a dead body." Booth closed his eyes and leaned back against the tree. "God, I feel like a failure, breaking down like that in front of everybody..."

"Booth, I'm here to help you. You're not a failure. Your body had a bad reaction to the horrible nature of the crime scene. That's all. It was a terrible sight. You're allowed to react like a normal person. You're not expected to be a superhero."

"I know. It's just...I guess you heard who the victim is…" He pinched his lips together and sighed sadly. "Jesus…I can't believe it, you know? I didn't even know she had moved back to DC. I thought she still lived in New York City. That's where that nightly newscast that she did originates." He sniffled a bit as he patted the empty space on the bench next to him. "Join me?"

"I know it's hard to understand when someone we know dies unexpectedly, and especially so when it's someone as young and vibrant as Hannah." Sitting next to Booth on the bench, Brennan patted his knee as she leaned against him. "And, of course, these circumstances make it even more difficult to comprehend." She kissed her husband gently on the cheek and laid her head on his shoulder. "Are you positive it's Hannah, Booth? Given the state of the body, it's going to be hard to tell without doing a DNA test. Maybe it's not her after all."

Booth put his arm around his wife and gave her a gentle squeeze. "Thanks for trying to make me feel better, Bones, but I know it was Hannah. There were the tattoos...and her jewelry. It was her ring that sealed the deal...she told me her father gave her that sapphire ring we found on the body right before he skipped out on her and her mother. She didn't wear it often, because it didn't really fit her finger well since the stone was so large, but I still recognized it. Her father had it custom made for her. It was her birthstone..." Booth turned and looked at Brennan with a soulful expression in his eyes, realizing once again how fortunate he was to have her as his wife. He pulled her closer into his embrace as he shed a few more tears. "I love you so much, Bones. God, I'm still shaky. Some FBI guy I am...Deputy Director, my ass. What an amateur...I almost passed out in there because the crime scene was so bad, and then when I realized who it was.." Booth tilted his wife's chin so he could look into her eyes. "I just lost my shit in there...but...um...I hope...you...you know that it wasn't because...I still...I still loved her, or anything like that, right? You know I didn't care about her like that anymore. Because, Bones, you're the only one for me…always have been…always will be...you know that, right?"

Brennan smiled gently as she reached up to caress his cheek. "Of course I know that, Booth. I know you love me, and you know I love you. Your reaction to the present situation is quite understandable. At one time you had an intense emotional relationship with Hannah, and since you proposed marriage to her…"

"Jesus...do you have to bring that up now?" Booth groaned as he thought about that part of his past. "Seriously?"

"Yes, Booth, I do. It explains why you reacted as you did. I know you were not currently involved in any sort of romantic relationship with Hannah, but when you were involved with her, your relationship was quite intimate and very intense, so of course you would have a very strong reaction to her death, no matter how it occurred, but even more so since she was murdered. The combination of shock and adrenaline was probably more than your system could handle at the time, so you felt nauseated and weak, and the stress of the situation caused you to cry. It's a perfectly reasonable explanation...all absolutely normal."

Looking out across the yard, Booth pursed his lips and nodded. "Yeah...perfectly normal, I guess. I guess it's perfectly normal to feel like shit when the person who gets murdered is someone you know, right?" He sighed as he stood up and stretched. "Let's go back up to the house and see what Aubrey's found out so far." He grinned at Brennan as he gently pulled her up from the bench. "Don't say anything to him, but I'm really proud of Aubrey. He's gonna be great as the Special Agent in Charge."

Booth and Brennan walked hand in hand through the yard and found Aubrey waiting for them on the back porch. "Hey, Booth, if you feel like it, McAnally wants you to talk to Mrs. Jordan, the housekeeper. They're in the breakfast room…." Booth nodded in response and he and Brennan walked into the large, welcoming breakfast room behind the kitchen.

"Director Booth...Dr. Brennan, it's good to see you again." Agent McAnally rose from the kitchen table where she had been sitting with the housekeeper. "Mrs. Jordan would like a word with you." She nodded toward the rumpled middle aged woman sitting at the table, who was dabbing her eyes with her handkerchief as she mumbled to herself in what sounded like Russian. "I'm not sure she's making much sense right now, but…"

Booth raised his hand to interrupt McAnally's apology. "It's fine. I don't mind." Booth took his pen and notecards out of his jacket pocket as he sat down across from the housekeeper. Patting her hand, he spoke soothingly to the woman.

"I'm Deputy Director Booth, Mrs. Jordan, and this is my associate, Dr. Brennan. We're sorry you're so upset, ma'am. I understand that it's a terrible situation, finding the body like you did. Agent McAnally says you have some information for me that might help us find out what happened. I'd like to hear what you have to tell me, if you feel up to it, and maybe you could answer a few questions for us. It would help us a lot in our investigation if you could do that..."

Mrs. Jordan drew a sharp breath between sobs, trying to compose herself enough to speak. She wiped her eyes as she stared at the table in front of her, twisting her handkerchief in her hands and sniffling loudly. Finally she composed herself somewhat and began to speak in heavily accented English. "Mrs. Hannah was scared of a man, but not the Senator. The Senator is a good man." Mrs. Jordan's lower lip trembled as she traced circles on the table with her fingers. "She showed me this picture of a man, said if the man came to the door, to call the police and to hide, not to answer the door. She said he was very bad, that he would hurt her."

Booth smiled gently and spoke in a soothing voice, hoping to calm the housekeeper. "Have you seen that bad man around here? Did you have to call the police?"

"No, not me. Mrs. Hannah said last night she wasn't worried so much anymore, and I think it is why she is dead...she stopped the worry." Mrs. Jordan sobbed again. "So when I came today, I was scared for her. She didn't answer when I called the phone. She didn't answer the door but it was open...I came in…no alarm was turned on." Booth could see the horror in the housekeeper's eyes as she remembered finding the body that afternoon. "And where is Seejay? Where is the little boy? Is he gone? She would not give her baby up…"

Booth glanced up at McAnally, who shrugged and shook her head. "Mrs. Hannah had a child, Mrs. Jordan? Was the senator the father of the child?"

"Mrs. Hannah had the little boy with her when she moved into the house a year ago. I do not think Senator Camden is the child's father...maybe more like grandfather? Mrs. Hannah and the Senator were not married."

Brennan spoke up quietly. "If they weren't married, why did you call your employer Mrs. Hannah? That doesn't make any sense…"

Booth rolled his eyes at his wife and turned back to the housekeeper. "Tell us about the child, please. How old is he, and what does Seejay stand for?"

"She asked me to call her Mrs. Hannah, ma'am. She never told me her last name. I didn't know why. The little boy is seven or eight, I think...He was born in New York to be American. It was easier to get his papers in US, but I think she went back to England later, before she came to DC. She never married his father. She said the father didn't know about his son, but she would tell him soon...in the next few weeks maybe."

"Was the boy's father the man she was afraid of?" Booth sat back in his chair and watched the housekeeper's reaction, trying to determine if she was telling him the truth.

"No. She was going to tell the father to get help for her boy...to protect him from the bad man. She said the father was a kind man and he would help her. The senator let her live here to stay safe." Mrs. Jordan sobbed again. "Poor Mrs. Hannah. She was so beautiful and so kind to me. She helped me learn to talk in English. She spoke some Russian, too. Is the little boy hiding here in the house? Have the policemen looked in all of the closets and outside in the garden? He likes to play hide go seek…"

Booth flicked his eyes at McAnally, who nodded in understanding. She left the room quietly to begin searching the house and grounds again.

"What does the nickname Seejay stand for, Mrs. Jordan? What is the little boy's real name? Is there a picture that we can look at?" Booth fidgeted with his pen as the older woman blew her nose and wiped her eyes again. Jesus...this must be horrible for her...coming into the house and finding Hannah like that...trying to tell us what happened...worried about the little boy...

Mrs. Jordan nodded and smiled sadly as she reached for her purse. She took out her wallet and looked through several of the plastic picture folders it held before she stopped and removed a photograph from a slot and laid it on the table in front of Booth and Brennan. "This is Seejay."

In the picture Hannah sat smiling happily, holding a laughing boy on her lap. It was hard to see them both so happy, knowing the things that had happened just a few hours ago. Booth picked up the picture and stared at it thoughtfully before turning it over. "When was this taken?"

"About six months ago, at the elementary school carnival…"

"Booth…" Brennan sighed out his name as she ran her fingers over the picture. "The boy in this photograph...he looks like…" She paused as she glanced toward the housekeeper. "Mrs. Jordan, may I borrow this picture, please? I will return it to you unharmed..."

Mrs. Jordan nodded as she dabbed his eyes. "Yes, of course, if it will help you find Seejay…."

"We appreciate your time, Mrs. Jordan." Booth smiled at her kindly as he sorted through his notecards. He smiled again as he handed her a business card. "I know this was difficult for you. If you can think of anything else, please call me at this number."

The distraught woman rose from her chair, and sniffled again loudly. "Yes. Please find Seejay...poor little boy…"

Realizing they still hadn't learned the boy's given name, Booth cleared his throat slightly and asked again. "Mrs. Jordan, what does Seejay stand for?"

"Seejay is what the boy calls himself...but the boy's full name is Seeley Joseph Booth, Junior. An odd name, you think?"

Brennan gasped audibly, and started to say something, but she saw Booth shake his head very slightly at her as he raised his hand to interrupt her. "Thank you, Mrs. Jordan. If you speak with Agent Lopez outside, he can arrange for someone to take you home."

Brennan made sure Mrs. Jordan was out of earshot before she turned back to her husband. "Booth...", she whispered.

"I know...except for the hair color, he looks just like Parker, doesn't he?" The boy had dark brown hair and deep set dark brown eyes. The broad, slightly lopsided smile on his face showed a dimple on each cheek. Even though he was young, it wasn't hard to see the boy would have prominent zygomatic arches and a masculine mandible with a prominent mental protuberance, and his facial features were quite symmetrical. "Is it possible, Bones? How can this be? God...Could Seejay be my son?"

"I don't know, Booth...the time and place of birth make is seem that way, but it could just be a coincidence…"

Booth bit his lower lip, trying to decide what to believe. "It would be only hell of a coincidence, wouldn't it? Jesus...I don't know what to think…and where could he be…?" They rose from the kitchen table, and went to find Aubrey to fill him in on what they had found out.

oooooooooo

It was much later in the evening when Mrs. Jordan walked through a dimly lit park and sat down on a bench. She waited a few minutes until she was joined by someone who had slipped quietly through the shadows to sit next to her.

"Well? How did it go, Nataliya? Did they believe you?"

"Of course." Her Russian accent was barely noticeable now. "You know I was an acclaimed actress in my former country. To think I have to do such menial housecleaning work here because the man I married is so lazy! It is beneath me! Now everyone will know my talent. I will be a great actress again. I will be famous in America as well."

"You're right, of course. You'll be famous...and people will know your name. You gave the FBI agents the picture? How did they react?"

Nataliya gave her companion a conspiratorial smile. "It was obvious they knew it looked like the man in question. They were tremendously shocked. You were correct. They had no idea. How did you know that man would come to the house today? Someone in his position usually doesn't get involved in investigations."

There was a raspy chuckle as her companion explained. "It was easy. I had the Senator call his superiors to request him. It's all part of the plan."

"Well, it seems that your plan is going to be successful. Now...about my money...Time to pay up." Mrs. Jordan held out her hand expectantly.

"It's all here in this envelope. You can count it if you want…"

"It's not necessary. I trust you. Nice doing business with you." She stood up and smiled. "Good night." Turning to walk away, she was blithely unaware of the pistol aimed at her back until the first shot entered her spine silently. She crumpled to the ground, paralyzed, as the shadowy figure took aim at her again. A second shot entered her heart, and her life began to ebb away into a spreading puddle of blood.

The figure nonchalantly bent over the woman's body to retrieve the envelope, and spoke calmly to the dying woman. "Trusting me was not a good idea...but at least now people will know your name, won't they, Nataliya darling?"

oooooooooo

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