For the first time in twelve hours, reality finally hit me. I'm not in a surreal fever dream, I simply crossed a bridge to Montreal, Canada. I'm in French country. Bones is somewhere in this city.

"I'm insane" I whisper the hundredth time.

Oh God, I've gone completely mad.

I didn't even call her. She doesn't even know I'm here. Nobody knows I'm here, not even my boss. Not even the squints. The only one who knows is my freaking ex.

"I'll take care of it," Rebecca had promised me before I drove off into the unknown. I guess she has Cam's number, the two of them can figure something out. If Cam knows, the whole lab must know. Maybe the entire Hoover building is talking about my sudden overnight drive to Montreal by now. Angela will have a field day when I return.

What the hell am I doing? What makes me think I'll convince Bones to come back with me? I don't even know if I'm allowed to drive the car out of the country, and I didn't bother to ask in case the answer's no. This is stupid. I'll turn back around and hopefully nobody will even notice that I'm missing.

But…

But Bones is somewhere in this city.

*****

"Doctor Brennan?" My concentration is broken by my assistant's short head peeking through the door.

"What do you want, Miss Brossard?"

"Is dis your new book dat you're writing?"

"No, it's not. What makes you think..."

"Can I see a little bit of it?"

"Absolutely not. Stop asking."

"Fine, ok. I just wanted to ask you if you ate lunch. You spent de whole day in dis room."

"I'm afraid I had no time for lunch today." My stash of granola bars was officially depleted three days ago.

"Dere is always, always time for food, Doctor Brennan. Always." Her expression closely resembles pity.

"I had none with me, thus I did not eat. If you're carrying some on you, though, I would greatly appreciate it."

She quickly rummages through her pockets in search of edible items. "I have a Kit Kat," she announces triumphantly.

"Great. Can I have it?"

"Sure. I'll give it to you after you eat lunch."

"No! Don't do this to me again…"

"You are going to eat lunch. And you will have a real lunch. How about dat Italian place I've told you to go to for the last few months? Today sounds like a good time to finally try it."

"Or I could go for a small poutine."

"Mon dieu, you're in downtown, you are rich as hell, and you want to eat poutine all de time? It's not good for you."

"Maybe a salad instead," the healthy vegetarian in me intervenes belatedly. "Even better, you could give me your chocolate bar and the problem would be resolved easily enough."

"Go eat, Doctor Brennan. I promise your work will still be here when you come back. Did Agent Booth have so much trouble making you eat?"

"Every single day. Where's the location of your precious Italian restaurant again?"

"Intersection of Stanley and Sherbrooke streets. Are you actually going?"

"Maybe."

The air is crisp and invigorating today. The sun shines brilliantly through wispy clouds, bringing a definite hint of summer. I have to admit, it is almost too lovely a day to spend alone with a laptop. I leave the soothing shade of the trees embellishing the campus and step into downtown Montreal. The number of dandelions growing in the cracks of the pavement keep increasing. Everywhere, the grass is filled with bright yellow spots.

Where am I supposed to go? Stanley and Sherbrooke…

I walk straight to the Eaton Centre instead. I just want a poutine. Nobody will know. One more won't cause any lasting damage to my waistline, right? I easily find the place I am looking for amidst the various canteens, and the man nods at me, asking "You want the usual?"

Am I coming too often?

I stroll back from the Underground City with a big carton of poutine, swearing to myself that I'll eat at the Italian restaurant next time.

The girl will notice that I'm back too early. What do I do? Eat on a bench? After all, she's correct. This stuff is horrendous for my h…

A black SUV.

The sight of the car manages to completely destroy my train of thought. It's just a black Toyota parked next to the Burnside Hall, nothing exceptional about such a vehicle. I have to prevent small and insignificant details from affecting me to this extent, even if it does look exactly like Booth's car. Exactly the same. Is that a siren?

I suppose nobody will notice my sudden bout of insanity if I decide to verify the numbers on the license plate…

It's probably a Quebecer plate. It has a Fleur-de-Lis and "Je me souviens" written under the...

Washington DC.

It's a DC plate.

Booth ishere.

*****

"Hello? Hi."

"May I help you sir?" This girl's English accent is almost perfect. Thank God I don't have to ask her any questions with the three words of French I can pronounce.

"Yes, um… I've got a friend who works here, I think. Could you point me in the right direction?"

"Which department?"

I'm not even sure she's here right now. I know she divides her time between working in this place and helping the local cops with their corpses, but I couldn't remember what the legal medicine building of whatever is supposed to be called. "Her name's Temperance Brennan."

"Oh." Her eyes widen. "Doctor Brennan. I'm not sure if she's here right now, I'll call to… to verify..."

"Thanks a bunch."

She stared at me strangely while she dialed her number. "Allô Mélanie? C'est Élaine." I'm positive Melanie is Bones' assistant. "Y a quelqu'un qui cherche Brennan. Ben non, j'sais pas c'est qui, moi."

Aaand now I have no idea what she's saying.

"C'est un gars qui parle anglais." She frowns. "Pourquoi tu veux savoir de quoi il a de l'air ?" Whatever Brennan's assistant replied made her stare at me up and down like a piece of meat.

"Something wrong, miss?"

"No, not at all." She turns back to the phone as though I never existed. "Il est beau en maudit. Pis y est grand en plus. Oui, les yeux bruns. Tu le connais-tu?"

She lowers the receiver. "Excuse me? Could you please tell me your name?" she asks.

"Seeley Booth."

"FBI Agent?"

"Yes," I sigh. Her eyes widen even more.

"Miss, is Brennan here or not?" My patience is starting to disappear. If Bones isn't here, then I'm wasting my time.

God, she's so close, and this stupid girl is standing between us babbling in a language I don't understand.

"One moment, please." She went back to her phone. I feel like punching a wall. "Qu'est-ce que je lui dis? Parles plus lentement, j'ai rien compris. Bon. Mais grouilles-toi."

"So is she here?"

"Her assistant will be with us in a moment."

"But is she here?"

"Not right now, sir, but her assistant will come meet you…"

"Do you know where she is?"

"I'm positive we will find out when…"

A young girl in a lab coat burst into the room with a cell phone in her hand. "Hi… Sorry. I ran all the way from…" She wheezed as she tried to catch her breath.

"Are you Melanie Brossard?"

"Yeah. Are you Agent Boot?"

"Yeah."

"Oh my God. I'm so happy to meet you!" she squealed. Jesus, this girl is as excited as Daisy Wick on caffeine. "Doctor Brennan has told me so many great tings about you. You look… exactly like she described." More staring at me up and down like a piece of meat.

"C'est qui?" the girl called Ellen whispered in a totally unsubtle manner.

"C'est l'ex du docteur Brennan," Bones' new assistant whispered back. Even I understood what that meant.

"Seigneur, pour de vrai?"

"Oui."

"Wow. Méchant petard. Beaucoup trop canon pour elle."

"Pfff, franchement quand même, elle est jolie la docteur."

"Elle a la personalité d'un robot et sa machoire est trop grosse."

"Ta gueule. T'es juste jalouse."

I know they're talking about me and I'm growing sick of not understanding a word of it.

"Excuse me, I don't want to interrupt your little chat but..."

"Oh, I'm sorry Agent Boot, Élaine is being annoying. Doctor Brennan is not here. She's having lunch."

"Wh… It's two o'clock."

"I know, right? She forgot to eat." We both smile. Of course she did. "I reminded her, and she wanted to eat my candy bar, but I told her she couldn't do dat. She went to a Italian restaurant some blocks from here, should be back in half an hour…"

She stops abruptly to watch something interesting behind my shoulder.

"What?" I turn around.

Before I know it, the woman of my dreams is finally in my arms again.

*****

If you, like Booth, can't understand a word of our beautiful French language (AKA people too lazy to use babelfish), here is a basic translation of what Melanie and Elaine say.

"Hello Melanie? It's Elaine." "There's someone looking for Brennan. Well no, I don't know who it is." "It's a guy who speaks English." "Why do you want to know what he looks like?" "He's damn good-looking. And he's tall too. Yes, brown eyes. Do you know him?" "What do I say to him? Speak slower, I didn't understand anything. Fine. But hurry up."

"Who is it?"

"Doctor Brennan's ex."

"Lord, for real?"

"Yes."

"Wow. He's a stud. Much too hot for her."

"Pfff, come on, the doctor's pretty."

"She has the personality of a robot and her jaw is too big."

"Shut up. You're just jealous."

I cannot believe how long this is. Wouldn't it be nice if I wrote shorter chapters, updated more frequently, and tried not to bite off more than I can chew? If I wrote normal chapters instead of humongous 8000 words ones, I might actually be able to update almost as quickly as a normal human being.