Chapter Three

As soon as Booth and Bones got through the front door of the Monhegan House – the 150-year-old inn where they would be staying while they tried to figure out what the hell was up with the Gorgonzola skeleton in the basement – Booth could tell that everything had gone to hell.

First off, the place was about as creepy as any he'd ever seen. Sure, in the summer it would be nice, with its wood beams and drafty windows and giant stone fireplace. But in the dead of winter, with a storm in the forecast and a skeleton in the cellar and no reliable mode of communication with the outside world… Yeah, this was not Booth's dream assignment.

"What the hell's the problem?" he asked, raising his voice to be heard over all the chatter.

"She says there's no skeleton," Zack finally said, pointing to a fit-looking woman with wild grey hair and crazy blue eyes, standing behind the front desk.

"What do you mean, there's no skeleton?" Booth demanded.

The good looking guy who'd picked up Sweets in the four-wheeler held up his hand.

"It's just a misunderstanding, guys – give me a minute here."

Angela's other friend – Solomon, Booth reminded himself, though he couldn't remember the first name – pulled them all aside. They stood in front of the huge, roaring fireplace. He felt himself start to thaw out for the first time since they'd left the mainland, almost two hours before.

"Diggs'll get it worked out," the woman said. She was a redhead - prettier than Booth had realized, when she was buried under all those winter clothes back at the landing. Maybe 5'3", she looked tiny next to Bones and Angela. "Just give him a minute or two – Zoe can be a little stubborn."

Booth strained to hear the whispered argument still going on at the front desk. From what he could tell, the skeleton had been there and now was missing, so it wasn't like the woman behind the desk was stonewalling. At least, she didn't seem to be. He left everybody else behind and joined Diggs.

"Is there a problem?"

The woman behind the desk just scowled at him.

"There might be – Zoe here says the skeleton's gone."

"What do you mean, it's gone?" Booth demanded. "It's a hundred-year-old bag of bones. Where the hell did it go?"

"Out for tea," Zoe said. "How the hell should I know? Mosby found the room while he was trying to fix the pipes after they busted during that last bad freeze. All I know is, suddenly he's found a secret room, and inside that secret room is a weird, half-silver skeleton and a bunch of old crap littered all over the place, from God knows when. And then, the next thing I know, Mosby goes and shoots his mouth off about it to God's gift to the local news here," she nodded toward Diggs. "… And now I've got a lobby full of Feds. And no skeleton."

"Excuse me," Bones joined them at the desk. From the way she was standing, Booth could tell she was ready to do battle. "We were told there were remains here that are, in all likelihood, from a known serial killer. Failure to produce those remains could result in criminal charges." She looked at Booth seriously. "You should show her your gun."

"I don't know if this is the place for that, Bones, but thanks," he said.

Bones put both hands on the desk and leaned in with that tough guy attitude that always made Booth want to kiss her senseless.

"We're not fooling around here – this is the Federal government. And Agent Booth was a sniper."

Zoe just rolled her eyes and turned to Diggs.

"Who the hell are these people?"

"Sorry, Zo," he apologized. "If the skeleton isn't here, do you have any clue where it might be? I mean… It didn't just get up and walk out, right?"

"It's somewhere in the hotel – that's the best I can tell you. No way somebody got that thing out the front door without somebody noticing, and the other doors are sealed up tight 'til spring."

"Okay, so that makes it easier," Booth said. "My guess is you don't have security cameras anyplace around."

She looked at him like he'd just suggested the floors were made of pure gold. "It's never been an issue before."

"Well, what about this Mosby person?" Bones interrupted. "He found the remains, correct? Could he have taken them?"

Zoe didn't look like she thought that was likely. "You can ask him, if you want - he'll be at dinner. Now, why don't you all either check in already or get the hell out of my lobby."

The checking in was more of a headache than you would think – mostly because Angela and Hodgins seemed to have the idea that this whole nightmare was some kind of squint vacation. He and Bones had already had this whole conversation, so it was no big deal to him: work was work, personal was personal… Which meant separate rooms when they were on cases. Cam stopped Hodgins and Angela just before they disappeared into the honeymoon suite for the rest of the weekend.

"Uh – excuse me, people. This is a case we're working on - a little decorum, please. We've got separate rooms already reserved for everyone…" Angela started to put up a fuss, but Cam held up her hand. "I don't want to hear it. It's not like I'm your chaperone – I won't be standing in the hall with a shotgun if anyone happens to accidentally let themselves into the wrong room at the end of the day. But, officially, we're here on business. Everybody gets separate rooms."

After Hodgins and Angela had their sleeping arrangements straightened out, Booth watched with interest as Cam leaned over the front desk, her voice low.

"You already have a reservation for me," he heard her say to Zoe, doing her damnedest not to be overheard.

"What's your name?" Zoe asked.

Cam leaned in a little further. "It's under Tripp Axel," she whispered.

Booth just grinned.

"You're Tripp's girl?" Zoe asked, all but shouting it across the lobby.

Cam waited maybe a beat before she got her composure back, then turned to everybody who was now watching the whole exchange.

"This is different – Tripp doesn't work with us," she said. There was a definite hint of desperation to her voice. "Besides, he just finished a twenty-eight day dogsled course up in northern Maine, and on Tuesday he's leaving to teach deep sea diving in Cameroon... If I don't see him now, I'm pretty sure I won't see him before this decade's out. I mentioned we might be in the area this weekend..."

"Oh, that's real professional, Camille," Booth said.

"What was that you were saying earlier about this not being a romantic getaway?" Angela piped in.

"I'll just take my key," Cam said quietly, cool as ice.

Zoe handed it over without another word.

Things were fine for Booth and Bones until Zoe noticed Dosha sitting pretty as you please by Bones's side.

"What does this look like – a pound?" the innkeeper demanded.

"She's very well-behaved," Bones said.

"Come on, Zoe – Einstein's already shacked up in my room," Erin interrupted. "And he looks like a refugee compared to Princess Grace here."

"Her name is Dosha, actually," Bones corrected her, totally oblivious. "Angela assured us it would be all right if she came along."

"Oh, well if Angela said it was okay," Zoe said, dripping sarcasm, "then I guess it'll be fine. Who the hell's Angela?"

Angela waddled up to the front desk, and then once Zoe realized who it was, there were all kinds of oohs and ahhs and exclamations over how grown up everybody was, and how long it had been. All that really mattered to Booth in all of it, though, was that Bones got the all-clear to keep Dosha with her, and they were finally sent on their way.

Bones's room was on the third floor, with pretty flowered drapes and a great view of the ocean. Booth went up with her to help her get settled – even though Bones just gave him a look when he followed her up the third flight of stairs – and then, once her gear was stashed, Bones returned the favor by coming to check out his room.

Booth had gotten a corner suite on the second floor. When she was handing off the key, Zoe mentioned something about sharing the room – which of course got Bones all up in arms, until she realized the innkeeper was talking about a ghost. So, no problem for Bones.

Booth was feeling a little less easy about it.

"Maybe I should get a different room," he said for maybe the third time, as he unlocked the door.

Bones just gave him that look – the one that suggested he was just a step above the village idiot.

"There are no such things as ghosts, Booth."

"Hey, I've seen them, Bones," he said. He pushed the door open, half-expecting it to push back.

"When have you seen a ghost?" she asked. More curious than skeptical, which was another thing he loved about her. Give her a little proof, and Bones was never too stubborn to change her theories.

"Okay – I haven't seen a ghost. But I've felt one before."

And there it was – the village idiot look again. Honestly, a guy could get a complex, spending too much time with a woman like Bones.

Once the door was open and he and Bones were inside, he snapped his fingers for Dosha to follow. The collie just stood there, her head low and ears flat back, a growl rough at the back of her throat. The hair on the back of Booth's neck stood on end.

"That's odd," Bones said. "Dosha, come!" She clapped her hands. Dosh hesitated before she finally came in, looking edgy as hell once the door closed behind her.

The room was cold and dark, with creepy paintings of stormy seas and old-fashioned lanterns on almost every surface. A four-poster bed stood in the middle of everything, pillows fluffed and a cozy-looking quilt just waiting for someone to climb under it. What a waste for a working weekend.

Booth set down his luggage and eyed the brick fireplace across from the bed, a blurry antique mirror on the mantle above. Maybe if they could wrap things up fast with the Gormogon thing, they could take the last night for a little R&R. He put his shaving kit in the bathroom, checked out the old porcelain tub, and returned to the room to find Bones standing with her back to him, staring at a painting of an old lighthouse.

He made sure she knew he was there before he put his arms around her, his lips lingering at her neck.

"Is this okay?" he asked.

She murmured her approval, then turned in his arms. "You don't always have to ask that, you know," she said. Serious as hell, her eyes on his.

"Doc Harper says it's important," he said. They'd had the argument before. "I don't want to hurt you, Bones."

"And you're not going to. You've never hurt me – you never could. I trust you."

He tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear. Searched her eyes, looking for whatever the truth might be. It wasn't that Bones lied to him… It was just that over the years, she'd gotten a little too good at lying to herself.

"I've scared you before, though," he said, quiet now. "I don't ever want to do that again, Bones."

It had been a little over a month now since the whole incident, as Bones called it, that had finally convinced her to see the shrink Sweets had recommended. Booth still wasn't even sure what he'd done to trigger the whole thing, but one second they'd been in bed together and the next, he was on the floor and Bones was in the middle of the worst anxiety attack he'd ever seen.

"I'm all right, Booth. I'll tell you if I'm not."

She kissed him on the mouth, tugging at his bottom lip with her teeth until he couldn't help but kiss back.

Booth kept his hands at Bones's sides, careful not to push, until he felt her hands making fast work of his belt buckle.

"I thought you were the one who said this wasn't a vacation – aren't we s'posed to be looking for Gorgonzola?" he asked.

Bones was doing that thing she did with her tongue that drove him crazy, moving lightly over his Adam's apple and then down over his collarbone. He was pretty sure he'd explode if those skilled hands of hers found their way into his shorts.

She sighed. "We are – you're right. I just…" She met his eye. "It's nice being away from home. It feels as though everything there has become so enmeshed with the cases we've dealt with this past year, or my memories of the attack, or the explosion at the Hoover… It's nice to have a dry slate."

He didn't even bother correcting her. "Tell you what, Bones – once this case is done, how about you and me take a real vacation? No cases, no drama, no snow, sleet, or freezing rain… Just us, a pitcher of margaritas, a big, soft bed, and an empty beach."

"I'd like that," she said. She leaned in and kissed him again, her body pressed against him, her hips rocking against his. "But you're right – we should go downstairs now, and help try to find the skeleton." She ran a hand over the ridge in his jeans, stroking him through the denim with an evil little smile. "Unless you want to stay here for a few more minutes, of course. That innkeeper did say the skeleton has to be inside the building – how difficult can it be to find?"

Booth's eyes fell shut; he did his best not to thrust into her hands, his breath getting a little ragged as she worked him. He found the hem of the turtleneck she was wearing and smiled at the feel of her warm, soft skin underneath. Despite how good it felt and how easy it was to get lost in her, part of him stayed focused on her reactions – so far, she hadn't tensed up, no change in her breathing. He opened his eyes, and looked into hers.

"We could be fast," she whispered, a guilty little smile on her lips.

"Yeah, Bones," he whispered back. "I can do fast."

She pushed him back toward the bed. He complied, careful to let her take the lead. This was new – so far, their lovemaking since she'd told him about the rape had been tender, slow, cautious. Filled with stops and starts, occasional tears. There was a spark in her eyes now that rocked Booth where he stood.

That spark faded a second later, however, when there was a knock at their door.

"Hey," Zoe shouted through the door. "You want to see the secret room where the skeleton was, or what? I've gotta start dinner soon."

Bones bit her lip – Booth couldn't tell if she was stifling the urge to laugh or cry.

"Yeah," he yelled back. "I'll be right down."

He waited until they heard Zoe's steps retreating down the hall before he said anything else.

"Sorry, Bones," he said. "Guess you're gonna have to wait for your quickie 'til later."

She sighed. Straightened her clothes, checked herself in the mirror, and waited for him to shift himself back to normal in his jeans before she reached for the door.

"Are you ready?" she asked.

"Yeah, Bones – ready as I'll ever be. Let's go find this Gorgonzola thing already."

Bones pulled at the door. It held. She looked at him.

"What? Is it locked?" he asked. Behind him, Dosha was on her feet again, her lips pulled back in a snarl he'd never seen from the dog before. His stomach twisted.

Bones tried the door again. This time, it came open without a hitch. If it was anybody else, he would have thought they were just fucking with him. That wasn't really Bones's style, though.

Dosha darted out of the room as soon as the way was clear. Bones followed, Booth behind her. Just as he turned to close the door, a shadow caught his eye. He paused. He went back inside, a chill running up his spine. His eyes swept the room. Creepy paintings, lanterns, bed, fireplace. Nothing that hadn't been there before. He tried taking a steadying breath, walked out once more, and closed the door.

As he was walking away, Booth could have sworn he heard a child's laughter behind him.