All right, gang - here we go. So sorry for the lengthy delay, but from here on out we're shooting for a new update every Wednesday and Sunday... we'll see how it goes. Thanks as always for your incredibly generous feedback, hope this next installment keeps you coming back for more!


Booth woke at five the next morning to the sound of the shower running. He was disoriented for a second, until he realized where he was – on Bones's couch, with a headache and a twinge in his back and a whole boatload of reservations about dropping his partner at the airport in an hour. He got up and tried to work out the kinks, thinking for just a second about surprising Bones in the shower – now that could cure what ailed him. And maybe if she got a good dose of the old Seeley magic, she'd drop this whole Oregon idea and just stay put for a while in D.C., where he could keep an eye on her.

He rolled his eyes, allowing himself a little groan of frustration. Yeah, like that was gonna happen. Instead, he pulled his t-shirt back on and went to the kitchen to raid the fridge and put on some coffee.

Bones came out a few minutes later, and kind of gave him a look when she saw him standing in her kitchen in his boxers – a little shy, actually, but he was also pretty sure she was checking him out. And based on the little flush of color in her cheeks, she liked what she saw. She looked tired, but she still looked damned good – her hair wet from the shower, wearing a tank top and pj bottoms he figured she only had on for his benefit, since it was hotter than hell in the place. She was a bestselling writer, right? It wouldn't actually break her to turn up the air conditioning a little.

He nodded toward the coffeemaker. "Coffee's on. I even managed to get some milk from the fridge without getting blown up."

She smiled just a little at the reference, before she went to the cupboard and got herself a mug. Booth gestured to the bathroom, trying not to look too desperate.

"You mind if I…?"

She looked at him blankly – he thought he'd have to spell it out for her, but she got it after a second and nodded.

"Of course, go ahead."

He headed in to brush his teeth and pee – definitely not in that order – and just about passed out when he stepped into the steamy bathroom, noting that Bones apparently liked the hottest showers known to man. He wiped the mirror and checked his reflection – there were circles under his eyes, and his hair was doing that weird thing it did before he had a chance to gel it down, but otherwise he'd pass.

When he came back to the kitchen, Bones was staring sort of blankly into the fridge. If she was just about any other woman he'd ever dated, Booth would've gone up and put his arms around her and gotten in a little morning make-out session to get the day started right. But, this was Bones – he still wasn't sure with her. Maybe she needed her space in the mornings. Or maybe she'd decided in the last six hours that the whole thing was a bad idea and they were back to square one. Who the hell really knew with her?

So, he settled for going over and standing beside her, crossing his arms over his chest and kind of tilting his head to the side while he studied the spot she was looking at.

"See, Bones, this is why you need a TV. Even QVC's better than standing here watching your arugula wilt."

She looked at him in confusion. "What?"

He rolled his eyes. "Forget it." He went to her then, tired of trying to read her and settling instead for going on instinct instead – it had gotten him this far with Bones, he figured he couldn't be completely off the mark.

He shut the refrigerator door and put his arms around her. She laughed a little, and said "Booth!" in that sort of exasperated way she had, but she was actually the one who kissed him first. God, he loved kissing her – loved the way she tasted, the way she held onto him while they were making out, the way she nipped his bottom lip and the genius damn things she did with her tongue… Yeah, it turned out kissing Bones had definitely been worth the wait.

When they stopped kissing, he pulled her into his chest for a hug. "You smell great," he mumbled into her hair.

"I just took a shower," she said seriously.

"Yeah, Bones – I know, I was here, remember?"

"I know you were here – I was merely pointing out that I smell good because I just showered. There's a logical connection – fundamental cause and effect."

Booth sighed, pulling away from her and heading back to the fridge. "Geez, Bones, way to kill a moment."

She looked like she felt bad at that, so he pulled her back and kissed her again, then turned his attention to the question of breakfast.

"So, what do you wanna eat?" he asked.

She made a face. "I'm not hungry – it's too early for food."

"You're gonna be on planes all day – you need protein. They don't even feed you on half the flights anymore."

He hunted around until he found English muffins, OJ, and jelly.

"Where do you keep your peanut butter?" he asked.

"I don't have any."

She was already headed into her bedroom to get dressed, so he followed her. "What do you mean you don't have any? Everybody has peanut butter. What, are you allergic or something?"

She looked over her shoulder just before she opened her closet door, making that face she did when he was bugging her. "No, Booth – I just don't really like it."

He leaned in the doorway, taking in the room. There wasn't a ton of stuff, but what was there was nice – deep, muted colors like she liked, some tapestries and kind of tribal art work. And a big, soft bed that Booth was pretty sure they could get lost in for days.

"How can you not like peanut butter? Who doesn't like peanut butter?"

"I don't." She pulled some clothes from her closet, then looked at him expectantly. He raised his eyebrows.

"What?" he asked.

"I need to get dressed. I'll only be a few minutes."

Hmm – now that sounded promising. When he didn't move, she rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. Waited, stopping just short of tapping her foot. He gave her the Seeley charm smile and waggled his eyebrows at her.

"I won't peek," he said.

She gave him a sexy little smile – then pushed him out the door and closed it behind him. So much for morning make-out sessions.


At the airport, Booth finally convinced Bones to let him carry at least one of her bags just before they reached check-in. Once her bags had been checked, he stood beside her in a security line that seemed to be moving way faster than any security line he'd ever been in before. Now that she was actually about to leave, Booth had a thousand more doubts than he'd had before, thinking of all the things that could go wrong – and all the ways he wouldn't be able to help her if they did.

"You remember what I told you last night, right?" he asked her, as she was taking off her shoes and getting ready to go through the metal detector.

"And a million times since last night – yes, Booth, I remember. Two check-ins, tracking device, list of associates…"

"Paladin – right, Bones?" he said quietly, desperately trying to make her understand how important this was. "P-A-L-L-A-D-I-N," he spelled out. "That's our word."

She rolled her eyes. "I've got it, Booth – but it's spelled with only one 'l'."

He looked doubtful. "Are you sure?"

"Positive."

He made a face. "Well – whatever, it doesn't matter how the hell it's spelled. Just – that's our word, okay?"

"Got it – Paladin is the safe word. With one l."

He glared at her. "Right – with one l. And don't call it a safe word, it makes it sound – "

"Provocative?" She gave him a look that just about stopped his heart, raising her eyebrows with a suggestive smile.

"That wasn't the word I was gonna use," he got a hold of himself once more, and pulled her aside to let the next person go.

"Listen, Bones – you've gotta be serious about this, all right?"

He had his hand on her side, and he could feel all the warmth and the strength and the softness in that one spot. He wondered how long she'd hold it against him if he just threw her over his shoulder and took her back home, then locked her in her apartment until they caught this jackoff. But then he figured that once he got out of traction after the ass-kicking she'd definitely give him, they'd never speak again.

He was out of options, and he knew it. She was watching the line and going through her bag and doing just about anything but paying attention to what he was saying, until he caught her by the arm and turned her around.

"Temperance," he said, low and serious enough to finally get her attention.

She stopped and looked at him, and he suddenly realized the reason she'd been doing everything humanly possible to keep from meeting his eye. There was a second between them, just one second when everything stopped and he wondered how many times it was possible for one woman to break your heart. Because if just a look from her with those tear-filled blue eyes could knock his knees out from under him, he was pretty sure he didn't stand a shot of coming out of this thing alive. He stepped into her space, never looking away.

"Hey, Bones – it's gonna be all right," he told her.

She sniffled a little, and he pulled her into a hug. "You don't have to go," he whispered into her ear, once she was in his arms.

"I do," she said, her voice muffled against his chest. "I just wish I didn't have to go right now." She pulled away enough to look at him, her eyes still swimming.

"I have a great deal of work to get caught up on," she told him, sniffling a little. "There are a thousand things I have to finish at the Jeffersonian."

He smiled at that, seeing right through her. "Yeah, well, I'm sure the Jeffersonian will make it okay without you," he said gently, hoping she got it.

She swallowed. Another tear fell down her cheek, and she was kind of laughing and crying at the same time. "This is absurd – I'll see you in two weeks. And I'll be home in a month." She waited a second, looking at him the whole time. "I'll miss you," she finally admitted, and he knew too well how much it cost her to say something like that.

He wiped her tears away and kissed her forehead. "I'll miss you too, Bones."

She surprised him by reaching up and kissing him on the lips right there in front of Homeland Security, so hard that she just about broke his front teeth.

"I'll see you in two weeks," she told him. "You won't forget?"

He crushed her to him, then let her go. "I'm not gonna forget, Bones. Two weeks. Call tonight when you get there, let me know you're safe."

She nodded.

He had the urge to tell her he loved her, but he figured since they'd only technically gone on one date, that was probably bad form. Instead, he nodded toward the security gate.

"Go on, Bones, you'll miss your flight."

She nodded again. Wiped her eyes and sniffled and threw her backpack over her shoulder. Booth wondered if it was possible to have the lowest and the highest points in your life all within twelve hours' time. Because holding her on the dance floor the night before, feeling her move against him? That definitely made his top five. But sending her off to track down a serial killer without him?

Yeah, this wasn't a good moment.

"I'll talk to you tonight," she said as she walked through the metal detector.

He watched while she went through the security line, arguing with the guards the whole time. Just before she rounded the corner and vanished from sight, she turned and gave him a little wave.

It was official: Bones was on her own.

And Booth was in hell.

He went home and thought about grabbing a couple of hours of sleep, but ended up cleaning his place instead, then left at noon to pick up Parker. No matter how nervous he was about what Bones was about to do, it didn't change the fact that he was looking forward to a solid week of Parker time while Rebecca went to the Hamptons with Captain Fantastic – er, Brent.

Parker greeted him at the door with a big hug, then pulled back to look at his old man.

"You look tired, Dad," he announced. He was wearing cargo shorts and a hockey jersey Booth had given him a couple months back, his curly hair already in a tangle. The kid honestly killed him, the way he could read his old man.

Rebecca came in and looked at Booth as he straightened up from the hug, and Booth kept his eyes carefully on Parker.

"You do look tired. Big night last night?" she asked, obviously teasing him.

Normally, he would've made some smartass crack and that'd be that, but frankly he was a little off his game. Instead, he ended up blushing. Rebecca's eyes got big, and Booth was all too aware that Parker was watching this whole exchange.

"Who's the lucky girl, Seeley?" Bec asked.

Booth made a face. "It's nothing – forget it, I was up late and then I got up this morning to take Bones to the airport."

And she knew, like that. She didn't say she knew, but she definitely knew. Thank God Parker didn't get it though – Booth wasn't quite ready for that conversation yet.

"Well, tell Dr. Brennan I said hello when you see her again," Rebecca said, with that knowing little smile that always used to drive him nuts.

"Come on, Dad – let's go. Brent taught me this awesome soccer move, I wanna show you. And maybe on the way to your place we can get some burgers."

Booth gratefully turned his attention to his son, before Rebecca decided to start asking questions.

"You got it, bub. Now grab your stuff, give your mom a hug, and let's get going."


Hodgins called late that afternoon, which seemed weird until Booth realized that Angela must've put him up to it. Great, Bones wasn't even gone a day and people were already starting to feel sorry for him.

"I, uh, got box seats to the Nationals tomorrow. Ange is coming, and Tripp's visiting this weekend, so he and Cam will be there. I thought maybe you and Parker might wanna join us?"

"Box seats – seriously?" The Nationals weren't actually his team, but box seats were box seats. He put his hand over the phone and called to Parker, who was busy doing some kind of science experiment with Jello and Epsom salts in the kitchen sink. Booth gave a little internal sigh – he knew he'd regret letting his kid hang out with Bones's father.

"Hey, Park, you wanna go to a ballgame tomorrow with some of your old man's friends from work?"

Parker looked up, just barely, from his experiment. "Will Dr. Brennan be there?" he asked.

Booth shook his head regretfully, though he was kind of pleased to hear Parker looking for her. "No, pal – she's out of town right now. But Angela will be there – and Dr. Hodgins."

"Dr. Hodgins?" Apparently, this was big news – Parker nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, Dad, that'd be great. I have to talk to him."

Booth gave him a look – he wasn't sure about this new development, but what the hell.

"Hodgins – you still there?"

The other man came back on, after having apparently been talking to someone. "Yeah, I'm here. You cleared with the boss?"

"Yeah, we'll be there. Thanks for calling." He started to hang up, but held on when he heard some sort of commotion on the other end of the line before Hodgins came back on.

"Uh – Ange wants to know if you've heard from Brennan yet," Hodgins asked, and it was obvious from his tone that the question hadn't been his idea.

Booth rolled his eyes. "No, not yet – I dropped her off this morning, but her flight doesn't get in 'til tonight."

There was a pause and what sounded like a scuffle, and then he wasn't talking to Hodgins anymore.

"So, you took Bren to the airport this morning, huh?" Angela asked.

Booth sighed. "Yeah, Angela. I did."

"So, I guess it's safe to assume the date went well last night, then?"

"Goodbye, Angela," he said. And hung up, before she could ask anything else.


At the end of the day, after burgers and fries and soccer in the park and swimming at the Y and enough running around to keep Booth on the bench for a month, Parker finally passed out and Booth had a little time to get some work done. He got his briefcase out of the closet and pulled out the files he'd gotten so far on the Northwest Lady Killer. It wasn't much – he'd gone through back channels to get copies of the current case files, but that stuff wouldn't be delivered 'til Monday. All he had now were copies of the ME's findings and some photos of the victims, and basic background checks he'd done on each of the women.

He checked on Parker once more before he settled in; the last thing he wanted was for his kid to walk in and get a glimpse of some of this stuff. He grabbed a beer from the fridge, kept his phone next to him, and turned on ESPN. Once all that was done, there was really nothing else to do but sit down and start reading.

Eight women – at least, eight that had been found so far. They were all from either Oregon or Washington, all in their thirties. The first vic was Michelle Lowell – an office administrator, 33, in Woodinville, Washington. She was found in November of 2000, just a couple hours after her death. The next victim was higher stakes. Killed in March of 2001, she was actually a Portland District Attorney – Jess Aldridge. 36, single, lived alone. Both of the women were dumped off major highways just a short time after their deaths. Ditto for the third victim, Alyson Hamlin, Dean of Medicine at a small college in northern Washington, killed in January of '02.

After that, the guy's M.O. changed. He didn't stop killing, but he did stop dumping the bodies – instead, kidnapping, torturing, and killing the women, then apparently burying them in the plot of land the cops had just found in western Oregon. Five more women had been found, times of deaths ranging from 2002 to '04. Which meant five years had passed since this psycho had supposedly killed anyone. Booth didn't buy it, though – somebody like this didn't just stop killing once he had a taste for it. Alex Washington knew that, too; he wouldn't be so desperate to get Bones involved now, fast, if he didn't know something he wasn't telling them. Booth really needed to know what the hell that something was.

Booth pulled out the photos of the bodies and started reading the notes from the MEs. At this point in his career, the FBI agent felt like he'd seen just about everything – all the shitty things people did to each other on a daily basis, and he'd tried not to get too jaded as a result. But this guy… This guy was sick. Booth figured this guy was all about wielding power over strong women – the kind of loser who'd always felt intimidated by them in the past, and now got off on turning the tables.

Booth stopped at the photo of Abby Martin – Rachel Martin's dead daughter. There was a picture of the mother and daughter when they were still alive – laughing at the camera, the girl maybe a little older than Parker. He wondered what Bones thought when she saw this stuff – what it did to her, knowing this kid went through some of the same things she had, but didn't make it in the end.

He flipped to the next picture and got a sour feeling in his stomach. Rachel Martin's remains – the ropes had disintegrated over the five years she'd been buried, but her hands and feet were both tied when the killer put her in the ground. Her fingernails were torn from fighting, and her arm was broken from landing what must've been one hell of a blow. She didn't go easy, that was for sure.

He stopped reading the report when he got to the sexual assault – Jesus, he hated that part. As far as Booth was concerned, anybody that'd do that to a woman oughta be strung up. He knew Matthew was all about turning the other cheek, but Booth was pretty much Old Testament when it came to this stuff. He thought about Bones again, out there alone trying to catch this guy. That same sour feeling settled in the pit of his stomach, and he went back to reading. The sooner he solved this, the sooner she'd be back. And he knew he wouldn't feel better until that happened.

Bones called at exactly midnight that night, just like they'd planned. Booth had fallen asleep with the files on his lap, but woke as soon as he heard the phone and picked it up without even checking the display.

"Booth," he said.

"It's me," she said. "I'm calling to let you know I got here safely."

He waited for her to say more, then made a face. "The word, Bones? What's the word?"

Nothing for a second or two – once she got it, he could picture the big eye roll. "Paladin. I'm fine, Booth."

He grinned, more relieved than he'd expected. Realistically, there wasn't much chance that something would've happened to her this soon, but he was already completely freaked out. Oh yeah, the next two weeks were gonna be a blast.

"Nice, Bones – see, now that wasn't so hard, was it? How was the flight?"

She yawned in his ear. "Fine. Uneventful. Crying babies and the occasional flight delay – nothing more exciting than that, however."

"Well, that's good, right? I mean, what kind of excitement did you want on your flight?" She didn't answer, but he hadn't really expected her to. "So, how's your place?"

There was a pause. He could picture her looking around, actually checking it out for the first time now that he'd asked.

"Very nice, actually." She said it like this was a surprise. "It's a little house not far from the campus." She paused. "You'd like it, I think."

He smiled a little, considering this. "Well – I'm looking forward to seeing it. Have you talked to Washington yet?"

"No. I'm scheduled to meet with him tomorrow at noon. Then there's some kind of conference faculty dinner I have to attend tomorrow evening. I'm not looking forward to it, particularly."

Booth nodding, imaging Bones hob-knobbing with a bunch of writer-types. "Well, just keep your eyes open – pay attention to the people you meet, especially anyone who signed up once you were brought on board. And I want you to ask Washington something for me tomorrow."

"What?"

He thought about it for a second, trying to figure out how he wanted her to ask the question.

"I want to know why he was so hot to get you out there when those bodies they found at the dump site weren't killed anymore recently than '04. What's the big rush? I mean, as far as we know this guy hasn't killed anyone in five years – he may be in prison for all we know, or moved on to some other part of the country. Or dead, for crying out loud."

She didn't say anything for a second after he finished, before she gave one of her exasperated sighs. "So wait – which part of that do you want me to ask? All of it?"

He rolled his eyes. "No, Bones – I mean, just get him talking about it, all right? We're missing something here, it doesn't make sense otherwise. I guarantee this guy Washington isn't being totally up front, and I wanna find out what he knows. Think you can handle it?"

"I'm sure I can, Booth," she said, with that little annoyed edge she got sometimes. "I've been practicing interrogation techniques – this will be a good opportunity to hone my skills." She yawned again. "I was thinking that perhaps I'd go over the case files again tonight, before the meeting with Washington."

Booth echoed her yawn. "You can do that in the morning, Bones – get some sleep. Did you eat something yet?"

He could picture another eye roll, and it wasn't until just that second that he realized you could be homesick for a person just as much as a place.

"I'm perfectly capable of feeding myself, Booth. Honestly, you and Angela treat me as though I'm some imbecile who's never survived on her own." A second passed before she said anything else, apparently reconsidering her words. "I suppose I could go to bed now and try to get some work done in the morning, however – I'm a bit more tired than I'd anticipated."

"Yeah, me too – your couch isn't the most comfortable thing in the world, you know."

"Well, I told you you didn't have to sleep there," she said. Her voice lowered just a little, with this hint of insinuation that set his blood on fire.

"We'd be a hell of a lot more tired than we are if I hadn't," he told her, happy that he managed to keep his voice even when he said it.

There was another pause, and he wondered what she was thinking. And doing. And wearing. Christ, he was hopeless.

"How's Parker?" she asked, completely out of the blue.

He took a second to recover from the whiplash brought on by the 180-degree change in subject before he answered.

"Good, good. Your Dad taught him some crazy Jello experiment that turned my sink and most of my kitchen green, and he's got some weird hero worship thing goin' with Hodgins, but… other than that, he's great. We're actually going to a ballgame tomorrow, with Hodgins and Angela and the rest of the crew. I guess Tripp came down to see Cam for the weekend, so they'll be there, too."

"Really?" Did she sound disappointed? He definitely thought she sounded disappointed. "Well, Parker should enjoy that – I'm sure he'll like Tripp."

Booth nodded. He hesitated, not sure if he should say what he wanted to or not. Finally, he decided to hell with it. "I wish you were gonna be there. We'd have fun."

There was a longer pause this time, and he thought maybe he'd said the wrong thing until he heard the sort of shaky smile in her voice.

"I wish I was, too. This is harder than I thought it would be."

"Well, you can always come home," he said quickly, then regretted it when he heard the edge in her response.

"You know I can't do that. I'll come back as soon as I can, but I've made a commitment – "

"Relax, Bones – Geez. I was just kidding. I know you're staying."

"Oh." Another pause. "Well… I should probably go. I'll talk to you tomorrow?"

He nodded. Took a breath, and let it out slowly. "Yeah – tomorrow. Get some sleep."

"Okay. You too. Goodnight."

She hung up. Crap. Sometimes he just didn't know what the hell to do with her – or about her. Couldn't figure out what she was thinking for the life of him. He comforted himself with the knowledge that she'd said she wished she could make the ballgame – and it sounded like she really meant it. If she was freaking out about them… well, he'd give her a little space, get the goddamn murders solved, and they'd go from there.

He gathered up the files, shut off the TV, and headed for bed, more than ready to call it a night.


Booth was actually grateful for a distraction the next day. Plus, it was good to see Tripp, the Outward Bound instructor who'd apparently swept Cam off her feet without tipping any of them off that he was doing it, back in Maine only two weeks before. He gave Booth a big hug when they met outside National Park, then leaned down to shake Parker's hand solemnly.

"Nice to meet you, Parker. I've heard a lot about you," the man told him.

Parker shook his hand politely, but it was clear he was too excited to make conversation.

It was hotter than hell out, and Booth was actually regretting his decision to wear jeans – Cam and Tripp were both in shorts, and they looked a lot more comfortable. Parker was revved up about the whole day, though so far Booth couldn't tell if he was more psyched for the ballgame or the prospect of hanging out with Hodgins all afternoon – which was more than a little disturbing. Hodgins and Angela weren't there yet, which left the four of them – Tripp and Cam, Booth and Parker – to get caught up before they arrived.

Booth grinned at Tripp, not missing the warning look Cam was shooting him – just waiting for him to start hassling her new boyfriend.

"So, Cam actually got you out of the woods, huh? You ready to leave Maine behind and hit D.C.? Smart guy like you, I bet I could get you a sweet job as a desk jockey at the Bureau. I mean, you know, as a favor to Camille here."

Cam rolled her eyes, but Tripp just laughed. He'd shaved and scrapped his Outward Bound gear for real world clothes, and he sure as hell smelled a lot better, but he still had that sort of earthy, comfortable way about him.

"Yeah, that'll be the day. Nah, I'm trying to convince Cam here to defect to Maine."

Booth looked at him in surprise. Cam rolled her eyes and sort of laughed, but she didn't actually look freaked out about such serious talk.

"Wow – pretty big words," Booth said.

"And that's all they are," Cam said immediately. "Just words." But she gave Tripp a look that told Booth it was clearly more than that.

He nodded knowingly, genuinely happy for her. "Yeah, right."

"I'm sorry Brennan couldn't make it – I was looking forward to catching up with her, too," the other man said. "Cam says she took a sabbatical to teach in Oregon?" He was looking at Booth like it was his job to explain the whole thing, which of course he couldn't do, so he just kind of shrugged.

"Yeah, well – it's Bones, you know? Who can figure her out?"

Hodgins and Angela showed up then, which was good because Tripp was kind of giving him the eye, obviously not convinced. But since the tickets had officially arrived, he let the subject slide.

Inside the stadium, Parker almost had a stroke making sure he could sit between Booth and Hodgins. Booth eyed his son uneasily, definitely not sure what this was all about. He found out as soon as they were seated, however – in awesome seats just behind the dugout, with a perfect view of the action.

Parker pulled a small box out of his pocket, and nudged Hodgins.

"Dr. Hodgins – check this out," the boy said excitedly.

Booth was honestly touched at the attention Hodgins gave his boy, totally ignoring the action around them when Parker opened the box to reveal… well, a bug. A big, hairy, dead bug.

Great. Forget playing center for the Flyers or being the first man to walk on Jupiter or something – his kid was gonna grow up to be a squint.

"I found this the other day," he said.

Jack looked closer, nodding enthusiastically. "Wow – nice work, my man. You know what this is, don't you?"

Parker shook his head, totally enthralled.

"This, my friend, is Megacephala virginica – the West Virginian tiger beetle. Awesome specimen. These little beauties aren't easy to find, either. Where'd you get him?"

Parker looked at Booth proudly, and Booth pretty much melted. So, his kid was gonna be a squint – there were plenty of worse things out there.

"Did you hear that, Dad? I found it when Mom and Brent took me camping a couple weeks ago. I've been saving him, so Dr. Hodgins could see." His son put the bug back in the box with great care, then stowed it back in the side pocket of his cargo shorts.

The national anthem started up then, and Booth got to his feet. He didn't have to prompt Parker to join him – the boy stood at attention with his hand over his heart and his eyes straight ahead until the song was done, Booth proudly doing the same. And for those few minutes, he did his best to put his fears about Bones and the killer and the case aside, and just enjoy the moment. He had an uneasy feeling times like this would be few and far between in the weeks to come.


Sweets showed up at the bottom of the sixth inning, noticeably missing the squint he was supposed to be dating. Booth thought he looked a little beat up, taking his seat without saying much to anyone before he got lost in the game. Of course, Booth didn't actually waste too much thought on it – he was too busy trying to keep Parker lathered in sunscreen and prevent him from eating his weight in hot dogs, generally just enjoying the day out with his kid. The game wasn't actually a great one – the Mets came on strong from the start and by the top of the seventh it was all over but the shouting. But Parker still got fired up about the whole thing, and the rest of the crew just hung out and visited, tipping back a few beers and generally enjoying each other's company. All in all, it was a pretty good day.

At the end of the game, with Parker recapping the highlights as they were all headed out of the stadium, Booth picked up the pace to catch up with Sweets, who was walking on ahead.

"Sweets – hey, listen, I need you to do me a favor."

The psychologist looked at him suspiciously. He had on a Nationals hat and was carrying a foam finger, but he still didn't look all that happy about life.

"What kind of favor?"

Booth put his arm around the other man's shoulders and steered him toward the gate – all the while keeping his other hand on Parker's shoulder, so he didn't end up losing his kid in the crowd.

"Just take a walk to the car with me, all right? I'll explain everything there."

Booth had actually given this some thought. He wasn't big on bringing Sweets in on cases a lot of the time, but the guy really did know his stuff. Outside the stadium, the afternoon was still way too hot – Sweets complained a little because he was parked in the opposite direction, but Booth could tell he was curious.

Back at the SUV, Booth started up the car and got the air conditioning going before he told Parker to get in and buckle up. Once his kid was safely inside with his Gameboy and the music on low, Booth grabbed his briefcase and pulled out a stack of files.

"I need you to work up a profile for me," he told Sweets.

Sweets took the files and started looking through them, stopping when he read the name of the second victim.

"Wait a second – these are the serial murders out in Oregon, aren't they? Is this – " he stopped, looking at Booth knowingly. "You're not actually assigned to this case, are you?"

Booth sighed. "Look, Sweets, just do it, all right? Go through the files, and do that thing you do where you figure out where the guy came from and how he feels about his mother and who he's gonna kill next. You know, the usual."

"I could get in trouble for this," Sweets insisted. "There's protocol to follow in these types of situations for a reason – you can't just start poking around in another office's cases. And why, exactly, are you – "

Booth gave him one of his dead-still looks, and Sweets got quiet.

"Just do it, all right? Listen, we both know you owe me – "

"For what?" Sweets asked incredulously. "You almost broke my nose in Maine – I'd say that more than compensates for whatever emotional distress – "

Booth checked to make sure Parker was still playing with his Gameboy instead of paying attention to what was happening outside. Once he was sure his kid wasn't watching, he took a step toward Sweets. There wasn't a trace of humor on his face.

"You let my partner believe I was dead, just to satisfy your own curiosity. For some stupid brainiac experiment, without thinking twice about what it would do to her. Trust me – just because I popped you once in the nose in Maine doesn't make us close to even."

Sweets got it. He flushed a little and swallowed hard, but he didn't actually back down.

"You know, the type of physical aggression you display in matters concerning Dr. Brennan doesn't actually correlate with the professional relationship you two continue to insist – "

Booth rolled his eyes and let out a big, long-suffering sigh. "Jesus, Sweets, just shut up and look at the files already, wouldja? And don't tell anyone what you're doing – we'll grab a bite on Wednesday, and we can talk about it then."

Sweets looked undecided until he opened one of the files and began reading. Within a few seconds, Booth could tell he was hooked.

"It is a fascinating case," Sweets admitted.

Booth gave him a grin and clapped his hands together enthusiastically. "All right, that's the spirit. I'll talk to you about it in a couple days. And remember, Sweets – not a word to anyone. I'm serious."

Sweets nodded. Booth expected him to launch into a speel about professionalism and confidentiality and some other bullshit line, but it turned out he was too interested in the files. He sort of mumbled goodbye, still reading as he started the long walk back to his car.


Bones was still at the writer party when she called that night, which meant they couldn't talk. Booth listened to the sound of people around her and sort of low, jazzy music he didn't recognize in the background, and was really kind of miserable about the whole thing. She didn't have time to tell him about Washington's answer to his question, or whether she'd noticed any homicidal nut jobs lurking in the shadows – she gave him the code word, said she was at the party, they said goodbye. Like in the old days, only worse because at least back then he could pretend he didn't care and go back to his normal life. Now, Bones was his normal life. And he definitely cared.

He put his files away and forced himself to go to bed, not wanting to freak Parker out by being crashed out exhausted on the couch in the morning. As he was drifting off, he did a mental countdown of the days until his flight to Oregon. Less than two weeks – twelve days, actually. He'd survived some pretty horrific things in his life; he could survive twelve days without seeing Bones, not knowing whether some psycho was gearing up to make her his next victim.

Yeah, he'd survive.

He just prayed that Bones would.

TBC


And there you have it: Poor Booth, all alone in D.C. without his girl. Let me know if you think the pace is too slow or anyone's OOC, and if you're still interested in the mystery itself. Thanks for the great feedback, keep it comin'! And remember: The next chapter will be up on Wednesday. See you then! - Jen