All right, your reviews have been excellent, and I shall keep my end of the bargain. Spoilers for Wannabe in the Weeds.

Lisa

The second I heard the door unlock, I dropped my disgusting motel-room coffee and launched myself him, bursting with joy.

"Jon!" I cried as I almost tackled him. I squeezed him tight.

"Can't... breathe..."

"Oops," I let him go. Jon towered over my 5'5'' frame. He gave me a gentle hug back.

"Lisa, what are you doing here?" Uh-oh, I thought, He's angry.

"I was worried about you." I quickly explained.

"Lisa, its dan- wait, how did you find me?"

I shifted my weight nervously. As much as he didn't want me involved with his work at all, he sure as hell did not want me to be able to find him on mission. That was very dangerous for him and me.

For some reason I felt like I was in the principle's office. American principle, not North Korean.

"Wait," he said. Jon started to give himself a pat down. "Did you put a tracer on me... again?"

Time to change the subject, I thought. "Why are wearing that?" I gestured towards his outfit, "You look like a hitch-hiker."

He took to long to answer. "Stop trying to change the subject. Did you?"

I seized the opportunity. "Oh my God! You realized that to, did you?!" This might be the key to winning this argument. Its been going on for months now.

"Did you put a tracer on me?"

No such luck. Damn. I bit my lip. His eyes widened as he put the dots together. "The doughnut!" he exclaimed.

Sure, I placed a tracer I stole from his stores in a doughnut I gave him before he left. Yes, I knew he couldn't resist my baking. Of course I knew it was morally questionable and was something you see in bad sitcoms. But every time he went on assignments I went nearly crazy with worry.

"How did you even get the equipment to use it?"

I reached into my back pocket and pulled out what looked like a PDA. It was actually multipurpose device with such advanced software that it could hack even the Federal Reserve. It even held iTunes 6 and Mp 12s.

He snatched it out of my hands. "Do you know how much grief Bin gave me for losing this?"

"I'm sorry! Its just that you've been getting more assignments than usual and I was worried and I didn't-" he pulled me into his arms and kissed me on the lips. I happily obliged.

When we finally disengaged, I asked "Hmmm, uh?"

He chuckled a little. "I'm kinda touched."

This time I gave him a small laugh. He put me down.

"I need advice on something."

Trev

She sat on the bed and crossed he legs. "Lets hear it."

I sighed. "My... teacher, when it came to using a sniper, was a former Ranger named Seeley Booth." She stiffened. I purposely didn't talk about my job, or my training. "He worked for the FBI and was the liaison with the Jeffersonian."

"The museum?"

"It also has a crime lab. A damn good one, if the stories are half true. Any way, part of the agreement was that the FBI let their, the Jeffersonian's, forensic anthropologists into the field."

"Why would the FBI do that?"

"Because forensic anthropologists are rare, only a hundred of them in the US. Moving on," I said before she could interrupt, "Booth was partnered with Dr Temperance Brennan. Booth trained me in the first year of their partnership. He whined, moaned, and complained about her nonstop."

"Why?"

"Apparently, she was abrasive, arrogant, and obnoxious. But he secretly liked her."

"Did he say that?" she asked, surprised.

"Nope. But I read it off his face."

"Oh."

I smiled. She had learned to respect my ability to read people. "He started to come around to her later. Eventually, they became good friends. I got curious, so I... spied on them."

"And?" she asked eagerly. Her bakery was the center of gossip for Little Korea. I guess she never figured me as the gossip type.

"They were so in love with each other, but so oblivious to it. It was like watching an episode of The Nanny."

She gave me a confused look. "Oh, right. The reruns ended ten years ago." I hated the fact that they cryogenicly froze me for thirteen years. That's another story. "Point is, they loved each other but were to afraid to admit it."

"Interesting." she stroked her non-existant beard. "I take it you will get to the point soon, right?"

"Today, I saw Brennan again. Only she was living under an alias, Joy Keenan. And it looked like she has a daughter. His daughter."

She gave me a confused look. "You don't usually care about others lives. Why hers?"

"Booth died almost twenty years ago. He never would have met his daughter. She probably doesn't know who her father was."

"That doesn't answer my question."

I smiled, and remembered my friend. "Booth taught me more than how to use a sniper rifle. He taught me how to keep my morality with my job. It was because of his advice that I saved you." I leaned forward and my smile got wider as I took on her wide, beautiful face. I didn't deserve her. "And I thank God everyday for that advice.

She leaned forward and kissed me on the lips. Short and sweet. "So whats the question?"

"Brennan is hiding for a reason, most likely to hide from the pain of loss. But everyone deserves to know her their father is."

She kissed me again. "Every girl deserve to know who their father was. Brennan will heal." she kissed me deeply.

When I surfaced for air, I said "No sex."

"Damn!"

Christie

Mom had been out for a total of seventeen hours. By the time that she was released from the hospital, the sun was setting for the day after the graduation ceremony. We had made it to Jake's truck when I remembered what day it was.

"It's Sunday!" I gasped.

Mom groaned. "Christie, I just got released from the hospital. Can't we skip it?" she pleaded, "Just this once?"

"Nope."

She turned to Jake. "Uh, Christie, my hair is all messed up," He ran a hand through his thick brown hair, further ruffling it. "I can't go into the House of God looking like this. He will laugh at me." he looked into my eyes with his emerald greens. Traitor.

I opened his truck bed and took out a water bottle. "Take off you shirt," I instructed.

His eyes widened in alarm. Nevertheless, he did as he was told. I focused on not staring at his well muscled chest. Gramps was a avid weightlifter, and had forced Jake to do the same when he adopted him. In turn, his chess-team grandson had forced him to play chess on Mondays. I liked the results of this arrangement.

I dumped the water on his head.

"What the-" he cried. If it was hard not to stare before, now it was almost impossible not to jump him right now. I think Mom wouldn't mind, which was the worst part. She had telling me to make a move on him since I first met him.

I reached up(he had almost eight inches on me) and using my fingers, I combed over his hair to one side. Not professional, but neat.

"Problem solved," I said as I climbed into the drivers seat.

He turned to Mom and said "I tried."

~*~

While at church, I sent a prayer to God.

My Birthday is tomorrow. I turn eighteen, and all I really want, other than the courage to ask Jake out and for Mom to be safe, is to know who my father is. So, if it isn't to much, can you send me a sign, or clue? Anything, please.

~*~

I dreamed that night.

Where was I? It looked like some sort of bar. There was alcohol around, by the smell. There was a stage, with a piano and mike stand. The stage was well lit, so a karaoke bar, maybe?

That's when I spotted Mom.

Only she wasn't Mom. Not the Mom I knew anyway. She was younger. About as old as when she joined the LAPD. Maybe a few years younger.

And she didn't have that sad aura. She wasn't sad.

I looked at the man in front of her. He was slightly older, maybe a year or two. He had brown hair and warm brown eyes. And he had the look of protection. Like he wouldn't anything bad happen to you.

"Whats going on?" Mom asked him, "Why did you call me here, Booth?"

Booth, huh? I liked the name. Sounded familiar.

"Your need to sing in front of a live audience," he said gesturing to the people around him, "It innate, Bones."

Bones?! What the hell? Mom hates nicknames.

She gave a small smile. "No way."

"Hey, I got the music, the frivolity. What else do you need?"

A few people started to clap and cheer. A bearded man in the back said "Come on, Dr Brennan, you can do it! We're here for you!"

Dr Brennan? Mom was smart, but a doctor?

The piano started playing. I recognized the song. It was Girls Just Wanna Have Fun. Another...man? Stood up. He was really young though. I doubted he could by a drink.

"We're very controlled, Dr Brennan," he had a soothing voice, "I think it is a great idea to let yourself go.

"Really?"

"Yeah" said Booth.

"What about you?" She asked the kid.

"Hey, I will be singing Lime in the Coconut afterwords, and you will be extremely impressed. As was my Abnormal Psychology class in college."

he went to college? He didn't look old enough to drive.

"This opportunity," he continued, "is a gift from Agent Booth," he put a hand on Booth's shoulder and quickly dropped it at the resulting glare from the much larger man, "Trustyourself, trust your friends. Let her rip, and let hear it!"

With an incredulous look on her face, Mom walked towards the stage. Everyone cheered. Mom glanced at Booth. The resulting smile he gave her would light up the bar. She smiled in turn. Then, she striped her jacket and threw it onto the stage. She took the mike off the stand and begun singing"

I come home in the morning light,
My mother says "When you gonna live your life right?"

Mom sang it better than Lauper herself. Booth flipped open a gold Zippo lighter and lit it. He started waving it in the air slowly. I smiled

And then, I felt something enter the room. A women, slightly overweight, was glaring at my mother with hat filled eyes. She said something. I couldn't hear. I was too close to the speakers. She said it again.

Booth turned. She pulled out a gun. She whispered "This is for us." she fired. I screamed "NO!"

Booth launched himself in front of Mom. His shoulder jerked as it took the bullet. He crumpled.

Mom was next to him in an instant. Fat girl looked shocked. It quickly turned to hate, however and she prepared to fire again. Mom grabbed Booth's gun and with a look of pain and rage, put a bullet through her throat.

Mom dropped the gun and placed her hand over his wound. "Booth, your gonna be fine," she whispered, worry painfully obvious in her voice. I knelt next to them. They ignored me."I'm right here, you can do this. Your gonna be fine." Mom's voice became more urgent. "You can make this. Come on!" she pleaded, "Come on, Booth! Come on, Come on! Booth come on! Your gonna make this!" Tears welled in her eyes, "come on, Booth no!" The dream faded away...

~*~

I woke with a gasp. Tears stung my eyes.

I launched myself out of bed and began to put on warmer clothes. I had to see a friend.

I think God answered my prayer.

All right, same terms as before. 1 review from three different people = an new chapter.

The episode I described is Wannabe in the weeds.