I know I promised to put in the rest of the last chapter really soon, and I expected to a lot sooner than this, but schoolwork had other plans for me. But I am here now and I have ample time to write the rest of the chapter today. 

Disclaimer: The usual…don't own nobody 'cept Basia.

DO NOT DONUT

Temperance started up Booth's S.U.V, throwing Basia's wallet on the passenger's seat beside her.

That was her seat…

Not officially, of course. She really hadn't verbally claimed the front passenger seat in Booth's car as her own. But everyone knew without her telling them that anytime she got into the car, that she got that seat automatically.

Everyone except Basia.

"Basia,Basia,Basia!" Temperance mumbled, not knowing how much she sounded like jealous Jan Brady on The Brady Bunch. Why did she always get everything? Why did she always get away with everything? Old anger resurfaced. She vowed to pay Basia back for pushing her out of the way when she was getting into the front seat. She knew Booth noticed, but he didn't say any thing.

As she pulled into Dunkin' Donuts, it occurred to Temperance that she was indeed one of the people giving Basia what she wanted. The woman even took it for granted that she knew what type of donuts she preferred! She was mentally scolding herself when she reached to the counter.

"May I take your order?"

Because Basia was still on her mind, Temperance snapped at the poor defenseless teenager.

"Why the hell not? That's what you're there for, isn't it?"

"Would you like some coffee, ma'am?" the poor girl cowered behind the cash regiser.

Temperance sighed. The girl had done nothing to her. She wasn't angry at her.

"I'm sorry. I'd like a dozen glazed donuts and…" she couldn't believe she actually remembered. "A dozen of the chocolate frosted donuts, please? How much is that?"

"Twenty-four?" said the cashier.

Temperance glared at her, "No. I mean how much does that cost?"

No wonder you don't have my job, Temperance thought rudely as the girl calculated Basia's tab. She opened Basia's wallet to take out the money to pay the girl, but her heart skipped a beat as she looked at a picture that was stuck behind the clear plastic.

There were four people in the photograph. All four had on large smiles, brown hair and they were standing close together. The family resemblance was uncanny. Two little girls, who were obviously Basia's nieces, were dressed alike in similar blue dresses and red head bands. Temperance recognized Basia's sister Rushelle immediately. She wore her hair shorter than Temperance remembered. She held one of the twins by the hand. And then there was Basia herself, her hair in a fountain of curls, a beautiful white dress on. Temperance couldn't help but admit how pretty she looked.

She had taken out the picture to get a better look at it. She was about to put it back when she noticed another picture in the wallet. In it she clearly saw- her own face!

She could always tell herself apart from Basia, but she didn't need that power this time, as Basia was standing beside her, grinning her 32's into the camera. The cameraman caught Temperance in the middle of a scowl.

"What on…" she drew the picture out of the wallet.

They were in front of a banner, but Temperance could not read what was written on it. Their semi-formal dress suggested that they were at some school function. But the surprising thing was the action going on in the corner of the picture. Somebody was falling out of the camera's focus and from Basia's body language; it seemed that she was the one who pushed him. Basia had jumped into Temperance's picture!

It had to be the straw that broke the camel's back. How dare she jump into the picture, pushing out the guy who seemed to be her date, no less? Temperance couldn't remember who the guy was, but she had probably liked him!

"Here are your donuts." Said the half-witted teenager, handing the two boxes to Temperance

"Thanks." She took them and had to restrain herself from not dropping the boxes on the floor and stomping on them. In the car, she put the boxes and the wallet on her seat and drove off a little faster than she needed to.

It was stuff like this that annoyed her about Basia. She acted like she ran the world, and people let her. She went around pushing people's dates out of pictures and still came out looking like she was innocent. Temperance was tired of people thinking Basia was a saint. So her nieces had died. Temperance really felt sorry about that, because they looked like really beautiful children. But for some reason she was now obligated to help her. Not that she wouldn't help Basia, but Temperance could bet that a whole lot of other people would be more willing to help her. She hated having to do stuff for Basia!

As she pulled into the parking lot of the F.B.I building, her rational conscience kicked in. In her time of need, Basia had turned to someone she knew had the expertise to help her, somebody familiar. But as quickly as this rational thought surfaced, it left her again. Basia knew that hers and Temperance's relationship was strained. She could have avoided the friction that was bound to develop after a while. It was all her fault!

Now readers, you will realize that Temperance is not thinking logically at this point. It is of course not Basia's fault that she is in this predicament. She cannot be blamed for the killings, though she may blame herself. But as in all strained relationships, everything is always the other person's fault.

She found Basia surrounded by agents, pulled her aside, handed her the boxes and the picture and said, "Explain."

Basia's face lighted up, "Oh, you found it! I actually wanted to show you this picture, but I couldn't remember where I put it! Do you remember this day? It was fun, wasn't it?"

Temperance couldn't see how, "You pushed my date out of the picture."

Basia's face took on a confused expression. "Nuh-uh! Don't you remember what had happened? Let me remind you. You were supposed to come with Jordan Hemmingway, but he caught the Chicken Pox from his sister. So you were all alone. The cameraman didn't want to take you alone in the picture, so he called out to everyone and asked who would be willing to take the picture with you. At the same time, Mark Flint came running. I knew you seriously hated him; we all did, so I ran in and pushed him out of the way before the shutter went off. Do you remember now?"

Temperance didn't remember. But if that was how it went, she was grateful. Mark Flint had been a despicable human being.

"Thank you for the donuts, Temps. And you got my favourite! You are a sweetheart!" Basia opened the box and stuffed a pastry into her mouth. She offered Temperance the box before offering the agents she had been talking to before Temperance came in.

"What's going on here? A donut party?" Booth asked as he entered. Basia offered him a pastry as well.

. She handed Booth a napkin to wipe the frost off his fingers and in the middle, decided to wipe them for him. And smooth the front of his jacket. And fixing his tie…

Temperance suddenly felt like punching a brick wall.

"So what's the news, Big Guy?" Basia asked.

Booth chewed thoughtfully before he answered, "Well Basia, I don't know how to tell you this but…"

"It's okay; I can handle you telling me that William killed the twins. I had guessed it since I found those bones in my backyard." Basia assured him.

"Okay, then hopefully you can deal with the fact that William may have also killed half a dozen little girls before he and you became acquainted. And the fact that he is still at large means that he might have killed more. Basia, you were living with a serial killer."

As Booth finished talking, Basia began to nod, a little wildly, and smile. Then her eyes rolled into her head and she slumped into a dead faint.

Thanks to all of you reading, and please feel free to comment. Thanks also to my cousin (whom I doubt is reading this) for the name of this chapter. See ya next time! 