A/N: Sorry it took a while to get this next chapter up... I had to come up with a decent murder plot. Anyway, keep reading. I promise there will be some plot development soon. Please review and tell me what you think. [Disclaimer: As usual, I don't own anything. But you know that.]

Chapter 4: Back in the Saddle

The large black SUV pulled around the corner and parked crookedly in the small alleyway. Booth exited from the driver's side and walked around the car to open Bones' door for her. He took her hand to help her down; she smiled involuntarily at the casual touch.

An FBI tech met them at the mouth of another small alley to their left.

"What's the context of the find?" Booth asked, immediately getting down to business.

"Body fell out of this dumpster when the waste collection guys came by to pick it up," the tech explained, indicating the rusty brown dumpster behind him. The dumpster lay on its side, its contents spilled out, filling the alley. A decaying body sprawled between piles of rotting leftovers and yellowed newspapers.

"What is that smell?" Booth asked, sniffing the foul air.

"Most likely what you are experiencing is a combination of expired food and decomposing corpse smells," Brennan replied, as she knelt to examine the body.

"Right," Booth said nodding. "I'll have to get used to that again."

"Male, mid-20s, Caucasian," Brennan began. "At first glance I see multiple gun shot wounds to the sternum and ribs. Some skull fracturing."

"Any idea how long he's been here?" Booth asked.

"Based on the level of decomp, I would hazard a guess at a week to ten days. I see significant animal activity though," she added, as a rat scurried past her feet. "Hodgins could probably tell you more. You'll want to bring him back here when he returns."

"We're bringing Hodgins to look at an alley full of trash?" Booth said. "Well now I don't feel bad for not getting them a wedding present. He'll be thrilled."

"First we should bring this all back to the lab. A significant amount of soft tissue is still here for Cam to analyze, and there may be more evidence in the contents of the dumpster."

"You got it Bones," Booth called cheerfully, as he began directing the FBI techs.

Brennan swiped her card and walked up to the forensic platform, buttoning her blue Jeffersonian lab coat. She strolled to the second table, peering down at the remains that Cam was already examining.

"Have you discovered anything yet, Dr. Saroyan?" Brennan inquired politely, pulling on her latex gloves.

"Nothing particularly earth-shattering," Cam replied. "Unless you count the seventeen gun shot wounds."

"Seventeen? That is extraordinary," Brennan remarked.

"Most of them appear to be older," Cam said, pointing to a few around the radius, and another two by the right femur.

"I can determine the age of each wound by examining the remodeling of the bones, as soon as the flesh has been removed," Brennan commented, lifting up the right hand to inspect the remodeled injury on the back.

"Dr. Brennan, have you seen Booth since you got back?" Cam asked tentatively.

"Of course," Brennan replied with a smile. "I accompanied him to the crime scene." At this point, Brennan's thoughts turned to the memory of the particularly pleasant kiss that she and Booth had shared when he dropped her off at the Jeffersonian a few minutes before.

"Ok, just checking," Cam said. "I'm going to run a tox screen." She's smiling, Cam thought to herself as she walked off the platform. That's a good sign.

Brennan headed to her office, where she quickly returned to focusing intently on the victim's x-rays. She was concentrating so fixedly on her work that she did not notice when Booth entered the room.

He paused for a moment in the doorway, watching her face in the reflection on her computer screen. He'd always had a soft spot in his heart for that face: the one where she was totally zeroed in on whatever she was looking at. She made a great concentration face: her eyes wide with curiosity, her mouth slightly open. It was just so… Bones. Booth leaned against the door, grinning.

After a while he got tired of just watching and walked in to stand behind her chair. He leaned down and planted a kiss on the top of her head, breathing in the smell of her hair. Somehow her hair always smelled amazing, no matter how many piles of muck she had been standing in that day.

Bones jumped slightly at the sudden touch. She wheeled around in her chair.

"Booth!" she scolded. "You startled me!"

"Sorry," he said, but she could see from his jaunty grin that he didn't mean it.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, looking at him curiously.

"I'm checking on the case, Bones," he answered. "Plus I wanted to see you."

"Look at this," she said, calling his attention to the images on her screen. "This man was shot seventeen times. And he lived through most of it."

"Wait let me see that again," Booth requested, pointing to one of the x-rays. He leaned towards the screen, until his head was at the same level as hers. "This guy was a soldier."

"What makes you say that?" Bones asked, looking back at the screen with perplexed eyes, as though she had missed something.

"I've seen guys injured just like that," Booth said, pointing at the scan. "Shot through the wrist. Just enough to disable you but not kill you."

"I know things have changed between us, Booth," Brennan began. "But I'd never thought you would be pointing out occupational markers. Are you sure about this?"

"Positive, Bones." Booth laughed. "Why? Are you impressed?"

"I am quite impressed," Bones replied. She turned her head and kissed his cheek gently. He turned towards her, gazing into her blue-grey eyes. He leaned in slowly.

"Booth!" Cam called from the doorway.

This time they both jumped. He straightened up quickly, turning to the door. Brennan swiveled her chair around to face her computer.

"Yeah?" Booth called back to Cam.

"I've got an ID on our victim," she replied, waving the blue folder she held in her hand.

"Alright!" Booth said enthusiastically. "That was fast."

"Too easy," Cam answered. "His DNA was a match for one in the FBI database."

Booth took the file from Cam and began flipping through it. Brennan turned around to see the new information.

"James Houston, age 26, from Arlington Virginia. Just returned from a tour of duty in Iraq," Booth read, skimming the report. "What did I tell you?" he added, poking Bones' gently in the shoulder.

"What did he tell you?" Cam asked, looking curiously from one to the other.

"He's a soldier. I called it." Booth said proudly.

"I am very impressed, Booth," Bones replied, smiling up at him.

"Alright, I've got to get back to the office and see what else I can find out about him," Booth said, heading for the door. "I'll call you later, Bones."

"Goodbye Booth," Brennan said, returning to her computer screen, still smiling.

Cam caught Booth's arm as he walked past her. "We'll talk about this later," she said quietly, as she looked pointedly at Brennan.

"Whatever you say, Camille," Booth said. He strode out the door cheerfully. We're back, he thought. Back in the saddle again.