The restaurant Booth had picked was small but cozy in a remote part of town that Brennan had never visited before. The decorations were tasteful, their colors muted which helped them to fit into the overall atmosphere of the place. They were led to a table in the back corner of the restaurant, and Booth slid into the maroon-colored booth beside Brennan as the hostess passed them menus. The waiter arrived less than a minute after they were seated, and they gave him their drink orders before settling back in the booth, Booth's arm around Brennan's shoulders, holding her close against his side. They talked amicably as they perused the menus, Booth's hand tracing random patterns on Brennan's upper arm. In a couple minutes, the waiter returned with their drinks, and they both ordered.

The food was excellent, and Booth and Brennan both quickly cleared their plates. After a short debate, Booth finally picked up the check and gave it and his credit card to the waitress. They left the restaurant pressed tightly together, Booth's arm around Brennan's waist. Despite her pleading, he refused to tell her where they were going, even going so far as to threaten to blindfold her at one point if she did not stop pestering him. Eventually, she did fall silent as he drove them to their final destination, pulling off in a darkened clearing near the top of a hill. "Come on, Bones, let's get going," he said, opening his door. She stepped out, and his arm again encircled her waist as he brought her to the back of the car. Opening the back door, he pulled out a blanket which he slung over his shoulder. Motioning for her to follow, he led her the rest of the way up the hill. They stopped at the top, and he set the blanket on the ground so that he could wrap his arms around her and pull her close. The stars twinkled brightly above them as he pressed his lips to her neck. "Are you up for teaching another lesson on the constellations?" he questioned against her skin. His arms pulled her closer to him.

"I think I could do that," she agreed. With a smile, he pressed another kiss to her neck before releasing her and turning to unfold the blanket. Once it was spread over the ground, he lay down on top, patting the space beside him. Without hesitation, she lowered herself to the ground next to him, her head resting on his shoulder as they both gazed at the stars. Her arms came up to point out each constellation as she named it, and he listened attentively for a few minutes before becoming distracted.

They returned to Booth's apartment that night, and made the most of their kid-free night before they both fell into a deep sleep, sated and happy. Without an eight-week-old, it was the best night's sleep Booth had had in awhile, and he woke feeling completely refreshed. Brennan woke soon after him, and they spent an enjoyable hour in bed before he forced himself to get up and get ready for church. He dropped Brennan off at her apartment and picked up Kristen, and the two went on to church. Booth knew he would be pestered by Angela when he returned, for Brennan was likely to give her all the details of the previous night, but he could not bring himself to care. Nothing could wipe the grin from his face.

Angela was still at Brennan's apartment when he returned, and she left, giving him a knowing wink as he passed. He rolled his eyes but made no comment, instead disappearing into the kitchen to prepare lunch. They spent the afternoon at the park playing every sport imaginable until finally traipsing home exhausted and sweaty. After showers and some work on Kristen's lessons, they had dinner while watching a movie, and Booth went to bed that night still feeling unbelievably happy.

After his run the following morning, Booth was sitting on the side of the bed waiting for Brennan to finish in the shower when his phone rang. One look at the number told him all he needed to know, and he answered it with pen and paper already in hand. He listened to the agent on the other end speak, and he wrote down the address before promising to be there within two hours. Hanging up, he set the paper aside and slipped into the bathroom just as Brennan was coming out of the shower. "We have a case," he said simply, already stripping off his sweaty clothes. She nodded in acknowledgement, toweling her hair dry as he turned on the water.

They ate breakfast on the way to Kristen's school and made a quick stop at the Jeffersonian to drop Noah off and grab everything that Brennan needed before heading to the crime scene. Booth pulled the SUV up next to a long pier just under two hours after receiving the call that morning. Yellow crime scene tape already sectioned off the area, and Booth crossed under it first, holding it up so that Brennan could follow behind him. Another agent met them as they stepped onto the damp boards of the pier. "The body was found by a couple workers this morning. They were trying to move a crate when the straps on the crane snapped, and the crate smashed into another one. That's when they discovered. . . well, you'll see." He led them across the pier, stopping in front of a large crate, the front of which was missing. Police officers and agents moved about the area, often stopping to greet Booth who acknowledged their greetings with a nod.

"What've we got, Bones?" he inquired as she stepped into the crate, moving to the back where a decomposing skeleton rested against the wood in a seated position. The face was contorted into a gruesome expression, and Booth grimaced slightly as he moved closer, leaning over the body.

"The victim is female," Brennan said, peering at the bones as she pulled on a pair of latex gloves. "Third molars haven't yet come in, so I would place age as early to mid-teens." The agent standing behind the two partners sighed.

"We get this all too often. Young girls brought over from China or Japan in these big crates and then forgotten about, left here until they die from dehydration."

"While that may be true, that's not the case here," Brennan said, inching closer to the skeleton. "Retreating zygomatics and a nasal sill indicate that the victim was Caucasian. Also, this girl didn't die from starvation. Marks on the ribs indicate that she was stabbed repeatedly." She pointed to the marks as she explained. '

"So we're not dealing with someone smuggling people?" Booth questioned.

Brennan shook her head. "No, this was definitely murder."

"Okay. Well, you just do your thing here, and I'm going to go talk to the people who found the body." Booth stood, his hands on his hips, and exited the crate.

An interview with a slightly distressed crane operator provided no additional information, nor did any of the other witnesses milling about the pier that Booth interviewed. No one had any idea who the girl could be nor where the crate might have come from. Somewhat frustrated, Booth returned to where Brennan still crouched in the crate. "Find anything?"

"Some larvae for Hodgins," she announced, holding up a jar. Booth made a face as he backed away from the jar.

"Great. I'm sure he'll be pleased."

Unsurprisingly, he was pleased. "Trogidae and Staphylinid," he announced, sounding grotesquely excited by the wriggling creatures that Brennan had presented him with. Booth shook his head and held up a hand.

"Does that tell us anything?"

"Oh, it tells us plenty. For one thing, based on the stage of life at which the babies are, I can place time of death at 20 to 25 days ago."

"Great. Can you tell me where she was killed?"

Hodgins frowned. "Not exactly. I've analyzed the clothes, but the soil composition simply places her in the Maryland/ Virginia area. I can't get anymore specific than that. Brennan also found this while she was examining the body." He held up a plastic evidence bag which contained a rubber glove.

"Is that a latex glove?"

"Yep. Seems your guy was prepared, but he was careless. I'll analyze the inside of the glove, see if I can get any fingerprints off of it."

"Great. Just keep. . . doing whatever the hell you do." Booth spun around, making his way quickly to the platform where Brennan and Wendall were examining the now clean skeleton, Cam standing close by. "You find anything, Bones?"

"My initial idea of cause of death seems to be correct. There are multiple knife marks on ribs three through nine, all which seem to have been made by a serrated blade. I'm not sure of the exact type of knife; however, we may be able to reconstruct a model of it based on these marks."

"So I heard congratulations are in order, Seeley," Cam remarked from where she stood beside the computer. Booth turned to look at her. "Angela told me this morning. I must say, Sweets is going to be over the moon."

Booth glared at Brennan who sensed his gaze. "I told her she didn't have to worry about keeping it a secret," Brennan informed him without looking up. "I don't know if she would have been able to anyway. And I thought you would be okay with the idea; you're the one who has been asking me to tell them for awhile."

"I don't care if they know, Bones, this just means I'm going to have to tell my boss before he finds out from someone other than me." He ran a hand through his hair, sighing. "Wait, why is Sweets going to be so happy."

Cam looked at Booth with a smile. "He bet on three years," she informed him.

"Gah, why can't any of you squints just mind your own business?" he questioned in frustration. Cam chuckled, and Wendall hid a smile.

"Her collarbone was broken when she was younger," Brennan announced in an attempt to steer the conversation back on track. "Also, there is a healed fracture to her tibia, likely another childhood injury."

"Abuse?" Booth wondered. Brennan shook her head.

"No, there are no signs of any other trauma to the bones. I would say these are just typical injuries that any active child might receive."

"Okay. I need to go see Cullen, and I'll start checking through Missing Persons. Have Angela send me a face when she gets one."

The meeting with Cullen went better than Booth had expected. His boss had agreed to leave him and Brennan partnered together as long as their relationship did not affect their work and as long as they continued to see Sweets. The conditions were not as horrible as Booth had expected, so he readily agreed to them. After leaving Cullen's office, he headed straight for his own, hoping to give their victim a name.

"Michelle Woods, age fifteen," Booth announced an hour and a half later as he entered the Jeffersonian. Cam, Brennan, and Hodgins turned to look at him from where they stood on the platform. "They haven't confirmed with dentals yet, but she looks similar to the photo Angela sent over." He held out both photos for comparison. "Reported missing by her mother Jennifer Paulson on October 26, 2008. Five foot six and 115 pounds. Broke her collarbone when she was five and her leg at seven."

"That certainly sounds like our victim," Cam agreed.

"Come on, Bones, let's go grab some lunch. By that time, we should have confirmation from dental records, and we can inform the parents."

They sat in their usual booth in the diner, discussing the case as they waited for their food to come. As soon as Brennan's plate was placed in front of her, she paused in the middle of an impassioned argument, and Booth saw her face go pale. "Bones? You okay?" he questioned. Instead of responding, however, she threw a hand over her mouth, racing back to the bathroom to find it locked. Turning quickly, she caught sight of a trashcan and bent over it just in time, emptying the contents of her stomach into it. Booth was at her side in an instant, one hand gently pulling her hair from her face as his other hand rubbed comforting circles on her back.

By the time she had completely rid herself of her breakfast that morning, she had lost all color to her face and was shaking slightly. "Bones?" Booth asked again, his voice full of concern. Seeing that the bathroom was now unoccupied, she pulled away from him, entering it to wipe the cold sweat from her face. When she came out again, she looked slightly better. He was waiting beside the door for her. "Bones, are you sure you're okay? Maybe I should take you home."

"No, Booth, I'm fine," she insisted though in truth, her stomach was still churning dangerously. "It was probably just something I ate." He looked at her skeptically.

"Bones, I think-"

"Booth, we need to notify the family. I'll be fine." She sat back down in the chair, but he noticed that she pushed her food away. He could tell she was not as "fine" as she claimed to be, but he also knew that with Bones, it was best not to push. And so he finished his meal quickly and asked for a to-go box for hers, thinking that she might want it later if her stomach settled. The waitress inquired if she was okay, and she waved off her concern, feeding the girl the same line about something she ate that she had fed Booth.

They stopped at a small house outside of DC where Michelle had lived. The woman who answered the door looked to be no older than Booth himself with wavy blond hair and too much make-up. She was the type of woman Booth would have once been attracted to instantly; now, however, he could not help but think that she seemed fake. Everything about her just seemed too perfect. "Yes?" she asked.

"Mrs. Paulson?" Booth questioned. The woman nodded. "I'm Agent Booth and this is Dr. Brennan. Would you mind if we came in to speak to you for a bit? It's about Michelle."

"Of course. Come on in." She motioned them into the house, and Booth quickly sidestepped an energetic blond toddler who came barreling through, skidding to a halt just before colliding with the door. "No running in the house, Jimmy," Jennifer scolded. The small boy obediently slowed as he disappeared into the living room. Jennifer led the two partners through the same doorway, motioning them to sit on an old, worn couch in the center of the room. "I suppose since you're here, that means you didn't find her alive," Jennifer guessed. Booth nodded sadly.

"I'm afraid so, ma'am."

Jennifer bit the inside of her lip and glanced off to the side for a moment before managing to compose herself. "I was afraid of that," she told them. "Did she suffer?"

"Based on the injuries, I would say she died fairly quickly," Brennan told her.

"That's good. I wouldn't want her to suffer. Can you tell me how. . . how she died?"

"There were multiple stab wounds to her torso," Brennan explained.

"Stabbed? Oh God!" Jennifer's eyes filled with tears.

"Ma'am, I know this is difficult, but we need to ask you a few questions," Booth said, leaning forward slightly. Jennifer gave him a slightly shaky smile.

"Of course."

"What was your relationship with your daughter?" Brennan queried.

"I had Michelle when I was eighteen, just out of high school, so we were fairly close, closer than most mothers and daughters. She would tell me about her friends and who she liked and what she did in school. She was always so open with me."

"And did she mention any enemies?" Booth asked.

Jennifer shook her head. "No. Michelle wasn't the most popular girl in school, but she was well-liked. She made friends easily because she wasn't afraid to talk to anyone. But she only had a couple close friends—Grace Milton and Hannah Tammon. Grace lives next door, and Hannah used to live down the street until she moved a couple years ago. Those three have known each other since we moved in here when Michelle was seven. They're pretty much inseparable."

"Any problems that you noticed before she disappeared?" Brennan questioned. "Maybe she seemed distant or maybe her grades were slipping."

Jennifer shook her head, taking a tissue from a nearby box to dab at her eyes. "No, she seemed the same as always. She was always a B-average student, and that hadn't changed."

"Was Michelle involved in drugs or-"

"No!" Jennifer exclaimed vehemently, cutting Brennan off with a wave of her hand. "Michelle was never into anything like that. She was a good kid."

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Paulson, but these are questions we have to ask," Booth told her in a calming voice. "Do you know if Michelle had a boyfriend?"

"Yes, Kyle Henderson. He was a year ahead of her in school; they've been going out for maybe three months or so now. But he didn't do anything; I'm sure of it. I've met him a few times, and he's a nice boy. I know his mother, too."

"What about her father?" Booth questioned. "Is he in the picture?"

"He was never in the picture," Jennifer said bitterly. "As soon as he found out I was pregnant, he wanted nothing to do with me. It was just Michelle and I for a few years until I met Will—that's my husband. We got married when Michelle was seven, and he raised her as his own. He's the only father she's ever known."

A wail sounded from somewhere behind them, and they all turned to see the small boy sitting on the ground, tears streaming down his face. "If you don't have any more questions, Agent Booth, I need to get my son," she told them.

"That's all I have right now," he told her, standing. "I'm going to leave my card with you so you can call me if you think of anything else."

They stopped next at Michelle's school where they met first with her principal. "I have to say, Agent Booth, Dr. Brennan, that I only really get to know the problem children," she told the two partners. "And Michelle was not one of them, so I didn't see her in this office at all. In fact, I did not even know her name until she was reported missing three weeks ago. It's one of the problems with running such a large school. You only ever really notice the squeaky wheel."

"So there were no discipline problems?" Booth inquired.

"None as far as I know. I'll pull her file, but that's really all I can do for you. You might want to speak to some of her teachers. They could probably tell you more."

Booth thanked the principal who handed them Lindsey's file and, at his request, schedules for Grace Milton, Hannah Tammon, and Kyle Henderson. After a glance at all the schedules, Booth decided to stop first at the Spanish class. The teacher, Senor Puerra was young, likely in his early thirties with dark hair and an olive complexion. He was lean and fit if slightly short, and he wore a polo shirt and khakis. He glanced up at Booth irritably when he interrupted the class, but as soon as Booth flashed his badge, the man instructed the class to finish up a listening assignment before stepping out of the classroom with Booth and Brennan. "I'm guessing this is about Michelle Woods," he remarked, shutting the door behind him.

"We were just wondering if you knew anything that could help us."

"I don't know anything more than what I originally told the FBI when the case was first investigated. I didn't know Michelle that well; she was a good student, had a pretty good ear for the language and could make A's in my class with no problem. She was a pleasant student to have in class; I taught her both this year and last and never had any problems with her."

"Did you have any interaction with her outside of the classroom?"

"A little. She was the sophomore class president, and I was the advisor for the sophomore class, so I saw her some at meetings and we discussed various events like the Homecoming Dance. But that was about it."

"And she seemed completely normal in class before she disappeared? No disruptions, no slip in her grades, no unusual behavior?"

"No, nothing."

"All right, thank you. If you don't mind, could we please speak with Hannah Tammon and Grace Milton?"

"Of course, I'll send them right out." As he reentered the classroom, Booth tapped his chin thoughtfully and turned to Brennan.

"I don't know what it is, Bones, but there's something about that guy that's just not right. My gut's telling me he's hiding something."

"Maybe we should bring him in and let Sweets see him."

"Maybe," Booth agreed.