Title: One Night to Speed Up Truth

Author: Dizzy

Rating: M

Summary: This story is set at the very end of "S6:E13 Daredevil in the Mold". What if Brennan and Booth had shared more than a drink the night Hannah refused his proposal. All chapters are based on songs taken from the Bones soundtrack. AU/Angst/Drama/Confusion/etc.

Disclaimer: If wishes were horses, beggars would ride…but as they are not, I still own nothing. Bones belongs to many people, like FOX and Hart Hanson, but not me.

Author's Note: Life, as you all know, doesn't care if you want down time to write. Between finals in the classes I teach, as well as in the classes I am taking, a health scare, the holidays, and surgery/recovery…writing has taken a backseat. Now that I am on break, out of the holidays, and on the couch 24/7 recovering…I hope that I will be able to finish this up! I know where I want to go with it, but the words are having a difficult time making it to the page. I didn't really want to post this yet…I wanted a more hefty chapter, but I thought this might be better than nothing. Thank you to everyone still reading! The next chapter will offer more answers more Booth/Brennan time. Until then, enjoy this chunk!

Chapter 10: Time Lapse Lifeline

(Song featured in in S4:E23 The Beaver in the Otter)

I'm keeping up, keeping up with the time lapse lifeline

And they can run they can run from the font to the Last Rites

And we can hear we can hear the first beat to the flat line

I'm keeping up, keeping up with the time lapse lifeline

And once it's done

Oh we dreamed a life

It was just like that, was like that

And just like that, and just like that it's done

Back it up, back it up

Stop, fast-forward, rewind

And watch the sun, watch the moon taking turns in the same sky

And you were dead as the leaves, now you're new like the spring-time

Back it up, back it up

Stop, fast-forward, rewind

And once it's done

Oh we dreamed a life

It was just like that, was like that

And just like that, and just like that it's done

Oh we dreamed a life

It was just like that, was like that

And just like that, and just like that it's done

Still we stand with the help of a steady hand

Capture images of boy and man

Till it's done

And 7 years combined is just the flicker of a neon sign

Little negative of hopes refined

Till they're done, oh they're done

Oh we dreamed a life

It was just like, was like that

And just like that, and just like that it's done

Oh we dreamed a life

It was just like, was like that

And just like that, and just like that it's done

*~B&B~B&B~B&B~B&B~B&B~B&B~B&B~*

Three months and three days. That's how long it had been since he had seen Bones, since he had known she was in New Mexico, doing god knows what. When Booth had gotten back from the trip Angela had been a little more than peeved.

'What the hell, Booth? Did you wiretap my phone or something? Check my credit cards? Pull some FBI voodoo? How the hell did you know I went to New Mexico? How did you find Brennan?' Her questions had come out like a barrage of machine gun fire, peppering Booth in a fine mist of guilty spatter. It turns out he never had to answer her questions. Before he could even say anything Angela had collapsed into a weeping heap on the couch in her office. 'I couldn't get her to come home. It didn't matter what I said, Booth, she just kept pushing me away. I feel like I've lost her.'

He had let her cry, affecting a stony silence that was to become his trademark in the following months. Since then the once tense atmosphere between them had dissipated and been replaced by a sense of shared frustration. While everyone missed Bones around the lab, only he and Angela truly felt the sting, and a strange bond of commiseration had since linked them together. Any questions about Bones, her whereabouts, and any other concerns were fielded between them with short terse answers that never revealed the truth of the situation; they had no clue how she was or when she was coming home.

It wasn't that he couldn't function without her. He was capable of the day-to-day routine, the unyielding monotony that comes with living a life without purpose. There were things that would always take precedence, Parker being one of them, but even his son had noticed Booth's lack of focus. Parker had been spending more and more time with Rebecca, and by association, her new boyfriend. He knew that he had to get himself together, if not for himself, for his son.

Parker was coming over tonight and Booth had made his favorite: grilled cheese with tomato soup. He had rented the newest soccer game, not that he knew anything about soccer, but he knew Parker would get a kick out of beating his old man repeatedly. He needed to get his house in order. If Bones wasn't coming back anytime soon, he knew that he needed to have something to hold onto, something that made life worth living. Parker was it; he just needed to remember that.

It was 5:00pm when he finally heard Rebecca's rapid knock on his front door. The grilled cheese was ready to go into the pan, the XBOX was hooked up, and Booth was showered and clean-shaven. He whipped the door open and was surprised to not see the blond head of his ex-lover, but the smiling face of a large man with a crew cut, a man whose arm was draped over the shoulder of his son.

"Dad!" Parker yelled, his bright young smile showing no guile as he wrapped his arms around Booth's waist.

"Hey, Buddy." He ruffled the boy's curls, less pronounced since Parker had entered young-adulthood. Booth's eyes never left the tall man on the other side of the doorway. "I'm Seeley, you must be…" For the life of him he couldn't remember the guy's name, one of the many seemingly inconsequential facts that kept slipping his mind over the past few months.

"Greg Laslow, nice to finally meet you." He extended his had and Booth begrudgingly shook it. It wasn't that he didn't like him, he didn't know enough about him to make a judgment, but the way this man had been so familiar with Parker, his son, didn't sit well in the pit of Booth's stomach.

"Yeah….good to meet you. Where's Rebecca?" He asked as Parker pushed past him into the recesses of the apartment.

"Oh, she's at yoga. Parker and I were so engrossed in FIFA Soccer 2010, we barely heard her leave! This kid is as good on the couch as he is on the field." Greg chuckled as Booth inwardly cringed. So, the new boyfriend had beaten him to the punch.

"Yeah, he's pretty amazing. I'm going to go get dinner ready. Grilled cheese, Parker's favorite."

"I know. The kid can't get enough of them. Hey, try putting a slice of tomato in there. He loves it an it's a great way to sneak in some veggies." Greg raised a hand in a parting gesture. "Have a good time."

"Yeah, thanks." Now Booth was pissed. Who was this guy to be playing video games with Parker and making him grilled cheese…with tomato. That was his job. Booth sighed and rubbed his eyes as he closed the door. As he looked at parker sitting at the kitchen table going through his suitcase, Booth couldn't help but acknowledge that this guy, this Greg, was doing right by his son. He hadn't been the most attentive father as of late, his mind always wandering, only hearing half of what his son was saying most of the time. It had to change; he knew he could be replaced. He had promised long ago that he would never be the father his was, but just because he didn't hit Parker didn't mean his distance wasn't having an effect on the boy. He had to do better, be better.

"Hey, kiddo," He clapped his hands together and rubbed them vigorously, "what do you say to some grilled cheese?"

"Sounds good, dad." He said distractedly as he rifled through his duffle bag, his eyes lighting up as he found purchase. "I got something that's gonna blow your mind!"

"Really? What is it?" Booth had heated up the skillet and positioned the grilled cheese in it.

"Take a look." Parker seemed excited, but also a little nervous, and Booth eyed him warily as the boy passed him a pamphlet, Euro Football Association emblazoned on the front. His hand clenched the glossy paper, dread clenching hard in his stomach. "I…uh...I've been doin' real good on my team, Dad. You didn't see last week, but I scored three goals."

"Yeah, I heard. I'm sorry about that, buddy, there was a…a case. You know how it is." Booth felt guilt ripple through him at the slightly disappointed tone in his son's voice.

"I know, dad, but…but my coach…he thinks I'm doing really good and he chose me…and Dylan, Henry, Jaden, and Alfredo…they're putting together a team to go to this." He motioned to the pamphlet in Booth's hands. The hopeful sound of his voice melted Booth's heart as he began to examine the brochure.

"Euro Football Association….wow, Parker. This…this is really big. Are they going to have a clinic out here or something?" Booth was trying to make his voice sound encouraging, but he knew his assertion wasn't a correct one.

"Umm…no, we'd be going there…to Europe. I mean, we'd get to go to England, Ireland, Spain, and some…some other places I can't remember…but we'd get to go there and play, like on a real team and everything." Parker shifted uncomfortably and Booth knew that the boy was dreading the answer to his question; could he go?

"Actually going over seas? That's…uh…that's a big trip. So, it would take the whole summer?" Booth was leaning against the counter top now, flipping through the glorified picture book.

"Well, not exactly. See, the season starts sooner than that. We would be leaving in about three weeks. And we'd be there for about…" Parker counted it out on his fingers, his big brown eyes raised to the ceiling. "…about five months."

"No way, Parks. What about school." Booth hated to tell the kid no, but he couldn't miss the rest of the school year, there were still two months left.

"That's what's really cool, dad…we'd have a tutor and everything. We go to class then we play soccer. They were telling us about it and the tutors use all sorts of soccer examples to teach math, ya know, measuring the field and the angle of the ball and all that stuff. And we learn how to write sports articles in Language Arts. It sounds really cool. Coach's son, Cole, he went a few years ago and now he's in college and stuff." Great, the kid got him. How is he supposed to just come out and say that Parker can't go because his father is a selfish bastard? He couldn't imagine not seeing Parker for five months. He'd done that once in his son's life when he ran off to Afghanistan, and he swore he's never be that far from Parker again. But this time it wasn't him leaving, it was his son wanted to leave him.

"Look, Parker, this sounds pretty expensive and I don't know if…"

"Greg said he'd pay for it, for everything. He's cool like that, Dad. You wouldn't have to worry about anything." Booth's blood boiled. Who the hell was this guy, anyway?

"Absolutely not. If you go…and that is a big if…your mother and I would split it right down the middle. Greg isn't your father, I am." Booth snapped, then immediately regretted the harshness of his words when he saw Parker's eyes go wide. He regrouped and approached it differently. "I'm sorry, Parker. I just meant that I'll take care of it, but only after I talk to your mom. I'm…I'm not going to make any decisions right now, okay? Let me think about it."

"Ok, Dad, I understand." And Booth could tell his son did understand, but it didn't mean he was happy with his father's answer. Booth held the pamphlet out to Parker, but the boy waved it away. "No, you hold on to it. I got one at home, that's for you."

"Okay, I'll look at it. Alright, Parks?" Parker nodded. Booth reached for the boy and wrapped him in a bear hug, burying his face in the soft curls at the top of his head. He knew his son was growing up. He wasn't the little boy he had been what seemed only months ago. He was growing up too fast for Booth's liking and he longed for the days when Parker had been little and Booth could do no wrong in his eyes. "Hey, buddy, I am so proud of you, you know that? You're amazing, kid."

Parker smiled up at Booth from the circle of his arms, a smile that always made Booth melt right into the floor, and he knew then he was going to say yes. He couldn't deny his son this experience because he was a wreck. He was going to go along with it, even if the thought of it broke his heart. He'd seemed to be doing that a lot lately. The moment was broken, however, when the smoke alarm began blaring, shocking them both out of their conversation. Booth ran over to the stove where the pan was smoking, one side of the grilled cheese burnt beyond recognition and edibility.

"Aw shit." Booth mumbled, then caught himself. "I mean, darn." Parker rolled his eyes and went to the fridge to get out cheese and butter. "Guess we're going for round two here."

"Yeah, its fine, dad. We all make mistakes!" Parker smiled as he placed the condiments on the counter. 'From the mouths of babes,' Booth thought as he ruminated on his son's words. He felt like all he did these days was make mistakes. He began to assemble the sandwiches. His hands paused in the process, and he looked up at the boy watching him from the bar stool on the other side of the counter.

"Do you…uh…you want tomato on this?" He asked the boy. Parker scrunched up his nose.

"Ehhh…no. I like the way you make 'em." Parker leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, despite the fact there was no one in the apartment to over hear him. "I only eat the tomato because Greg likes it."

Booth let out a hearty laugh, real joy creeping into his voice. He shook his head back and forth. "That's my boy!" He ruffled Parkers hair and began to place the new sandwiches in a new pan. Some things never changed, and Booth took comfort in that.

*~B&B~B&B~B&B~B&B~B&B~B&B~B&B~*

Brennan felt as if she were as big as a house. She didn't like hyperbole, it only exaggerated the reality of facts and made a less accurate summation of events, but as she adjusted herself again on the metal fold out chair for what seemed like the millionth time, she finally understood the use of embellishment. The oddest part being that she was not "showing" very much at all. At seven months pregnant, Brennan had the slightest bulge around her midsection, easily concealed by a flowing shirt or dress. The doctor had said that this was normal, that many women show late, or barely at all, and that it was common to feel much larger than one actually was. Feeling as big as a house, elephant, cruise ship, etc. all still applied.

At first Aurelio had tried to keep her away from the site, insisting that she should rest, but the thought of sequestering herself from the world for months seemed like a death sentence. On his insistence she had seen the doctor to confirm that she could return to work, and after the okay to do what amounted to desk work, he begrudgingly agreed to let her come back. She was still only allowed to handle the bones after they had been cleaned or while wearing a mask, and while a part of her wanted to rebel against the fettering of what seemed like overly precautious procedure, the logical part of her acknowledged it was better to be safe than sorry.

Sometimes her condition seemed surreal, as if she were growing bigger without cause, as if the baby were an apparition. But lately she had felt the sure and defiant kicks inside and knew that their was life inside her, despite all odds, their child was growing, strong and sure. There were times during her doctor's visits where she saw the blurry little hands, feet, arms, legs, body, head of her child and imagined it was nothing more than a movie, that it couldn't be real, then she would here the echoing flutter of her heartbeat and she would feel a rush of protective love overcome her.

Her, a little girl. So far the ultrasounds and amniocentesis had revealed no anomalies; no deformities, no developmental problems, no evident conditions, and she thanked…something…every time she left the offices with a clean bill of health for her and her daughter. Still, the doctor's had warned her that they wouldn't know anything for sure until the baby was born, until she had made her way into the world. After all of the reading Brennan had done, she knew it wasn't as simple as a test, or even a seemingly healthy baby. The effect of fetal alcohol syndrome could be subtle, unnoticed until years later, and it was this knowledge that kept her on edge. Despite the healthy fetus she carried, she would know nothing until weeks, months, and years after she was born.

As Brennan leaned over the fold out table, her long auburn hair fell into her eyes. Pushing it away she looked closer at the pitting on a mandible, another indicator of post mortem trauma. Still, having only looked at this shattered skull for about five minutes one thing was clear. This bone was different. It didn't have the soft yellowing patina common in the other more ancient bones. As she weighed it in her hands, studied its grooves, she knew the one thing she didn't want to admit. This skull wasn't ancient by any means. It was fresh by comparison, new, and it was female. This was no ancient native of the land. No, it was only a mere six to eight years old, and furthermore, it was from a Caucasian woman, vastly inconsistent, impossible to categorize with the rest.

She sighed heavily. She thought if anything she had escaped modern death, at least for the time being. She looked over at the rest of the skeleton, its cream colored bones beckoning her to solve the mystery of this woman's death, the reason for her strange burial. Who was she, what was she doing there in that forsaken pit among the bones of generations?

"How goes it?" Aurelio interrupted her thoughts as he came up behind her, resting his warm, dust caked palm on her shoulder. Brennan turned slightly, regretting the fact that she would have to share this news with him. The last thing the dig needed was the police swarming the dig; halting progress.

"Unfortunately." She said slowly.

"That can't be good. What's wrong? Are you okay…the baby?" Aurelio's back immediately straightened, his arms crossed over his chest, the look in his eyes shone with concern. Brennan rolled her eyes, he was always worried about the baby, as if it were his personal job to protect it, even from Brennan herself if need be. He constantly asked her about what she had eaten that day, asked her to rest, to go home. It was beginning to grate on her nerves. Still, it was nice, even when annoying, to have someone who cared.

"Its not that. It's this set of bones you brought me. There is an anomaly when compared to the rest of the remains found here." Aurelio's shoulders relaxed and he casually glanced at the examination table.

"So, what's the deal? Did we finally find someone who died in the fall?" He squinted at the magnified image of mandible, then finding it hopeless to comprehend, he turned away.

"No. She was dead prior to the fall. Worse…" Brennan eyed Aurelio, noting his perplexity in his features. "She's too new. This woman died roughly six to eight years ago, well out of the timeline for the rest of the remains."

"What?" She couldn't tell if Aurelio was confused or just hadn't heard her.

"The bones are too new, those of a woman who died only…"

"I get that, Tempe, I just mean…how? How did she get down there? Where did she come from?" Aurelio was up and pacing. Brennan was about to ask him to calm down when she realized something staggering. Aurelio wasn't used to death. Sure, he looked at the bones and artifacts of the dead, but those were all ancient, from a different time, different place. This, fresh death, was something he had yet to encounter, yet to accept. A small part of her longed for that innocence again, for a time when she would have found this discovery shocking, to not be immune to the horrors of modern society. At the same time she pitied him, to see his dreams, his dig, tainted by the acts of contemporary man.

"There is no way to tell as of right now. We need to…we need to call the authorities. This needs to be investigated." She moved herself up from the stiff metal chair and made her way to his now turned back. "I'm sorry, Aurelio."

"No…don't be…its not as if you planned this." He sighed and leaned against one of the tent supports. "Jesus, I just didn't think…this is so weird."

"Its not uncommon. A remote location used as a body dump for some…"

"I get it, Tempe, I just meant I'm not used to it. Not like you." Brennan recoiled a bit, her hand resting on her barely there belly. She wanted to be angry at his categorization of her response, but she knew he was right, she was used to this. "Sorry, I just…I'm going to go call the cops. Thank you for the information."

Brennan nodded, incapable of words. She had never seen Aurelio so withdrawn, so…disappointed. He didn't deserve this, didn't deserve to put his life's work on hiatus. Still, what was done was done, and now it was time to call in the authorities. She sighed as Aurelio walked away, his shoulders slumped in defeat. Turning back to the bones of the young woman on the table, Brennan set about trying to determine cause of death.

*~B&B~B&B~B&B~B&B~B&B~B&B~B&B~*

"They've been here for three days. When are they leaving?" Aurelio's voice was low, impatient. The sheriff had arrived three days earlier, had his team section off the pit, the tools, pretty mush everything. Aurelio and Brennan had only been able to sit on the sidelines and watched as police officers milled about ineffectually, trying to look busier than they actually were.

"This investigation would go much faster if they would allow me to examine the bones more thoroughly. I still don't understand, they should know who I am." Brennan had been annoyed beyond measure when the sheriff notified her that the FBI had placed her on a leave of absence as well, and that she was not allowed to work on the case solo. Still, she couldn't help but watch from afar, gathering snippets of information passed between cops.

Here on the third day, they really hadn't found out much else. Not much of anything was happening; they were just standing, just staring, just drinking coffee. This was ridiculous.

"Excuse me, sheriff. Are all f you just taking an extended break? We would like to get back to our work, perhaps you should start yours." Brennan knew she sounded catty, knew that it wasn't the best way to handle the situation, but she couldn't seem to contain herself, letting the words slip through her lips faster then she could censor them.

"Well, Dr. Brennan…not that its any of your concern, but we were told to wait." Sheriff Holbrook was a slight man, his craggy face aged by the sun, permanently ruddy. He seemed stolid, but the deep wrinkles in the corners of his eyes gave him away. This was a man who knew how to laugh, to enjoy himself, but one would never know it from his work demeanor. Brennan knew he was a good man, a man who thought before he spoke. Still this did not keep Brennan from snapping at the man.

"Wait? Wait for what? You're wasting time." She huffed, crossing her arms in front of her chest, a task that seemed more difficult now that she was late into her pregnancy.

"The FBI told us to wait, that's what we're gonna do, Dr. Brennan, wait." Still calm and even despite her badgering, Sheriff Holbrook leaned against the pulley mechanism and glanced down at the pit in front of them.

"The FBI? Great. I've heard about this before, once the FBI is involved we'll never get back into this dig." Aurelio sighed loudly, new exhaustion and frustration evident in his voice.

Brennan for her part hadn't moved since she had heard the letters FBI. Irrational fear gripped at her belly, she seated herself in one of the vacant metal folding chairs, hand lightly covering her "O" shocked mouth. Her mind was racing; 'What if he comes? Why would they send him, I'm not there to round out the team anymore? What if he comes anyway? He wasn't coming; he doesn't have the jurisdiction. The FBI has New Mexico agents, why would they send a DC agent for a New Mexico job, highly improbably?' She rolled through contradiction after contradiction, effectively scaring and comforting herself simultaneously.

"I don't think you have to worry too much, Dr. Castaneda. I hear their sending us a specialist, someone used to this sort of faceless, nameless, kinda deal." Sheriff Holbrook reassured as he cleaned his sunglasses with his shirt.

"I would hope so," Aurelio gave a terse nod of approval, while Brennan slumped further down in the chair.

'There are plenty of agents who specialize in this sort of thing.' She lied to herself, knowing that not many had as much experience as Booth. She needed to get out of there, needed to move, to think. She got up as quickly as she could, smoothed her dress, and began to walk purposefully towards her truck.

"Where are you going, Temperance?" Aurelio yelled after her. Brennan turned to face Aurelio, still walking quickly away.

"Home. Just going home for a bit. There isn't much going on here. Call me if anything changes or if you need help." No sooner had she said this did she slam into something firm, solid. Confused and breathless she focused on what she had walked into, a light gasp leaving her as everything came together.

"I think I'll need your help, Bones." Booth whispered quietly, his large hands gripping her shoulders protectively after their collision.

"No…" the soft word slipped from her lips.

*~B&B~B&B~B&B~B&B~B&B~B&B~B&B~*

*Author's Note: Well, please tell me what you think! Reviews are what inspire, and I need it...I am having a tough time with writers block, seeing the story but not knowing how to get it written. Thanks for reading!