November
Thanksgiving had been a small affair.
Someone got the vegetables and turkey and everything else at the last minute, and the ones that celebrate it sat at a few of the mess hall tables that had been pushed together.
It was that night, squished between Daisy and Dr. Haller, that she realised something.
Although this was the same thing she had been doing, and planning on doing, seven years ago, it didn't hold the same excitement. She didn't miss the murder, but she missed helping that way. Saving the world one murderer at a time.
Daisy regarded Dr. Brennan warily, then turned to Lauren, the archaeological assistant.
"She isn't doing so well, is she?" Lauren whispered.
Daisy frowned and shook her head.
"I don't think it's what she expected it to be. She probably thought that she could dive back in, that the work could distract her from everything that happened back home."
"But it hasn't."
"No. And I don't really think it will."
