I've been putting this off, but I can't anymore. I'm not sure how we shall go about the case, just stay with me! Comment and tell me if I screwed up!

…

Sweets sat in the back of the car, tapping his heel on the car floor. He looked around nervously, and Booth glanced back at him in the mirror. "What's up, Doc?" Booth raised an eyebrow, his comment causing a smile to spread over the nervous doctor's face. Brennan just shook her head, confused by the comment.

"Nothing, I'm perfectly fine." Sweets' words were rushed, high pitched, and practically oozing nerves. "Why would you think anythings wrong?"

"Don't give me that, I'm no shrink but I know somethings up." Booth hissed back at him.

"I'm just scared, you know. This family lost their son and it's probably my fault…" He trailed off, looking in the distance.

"Hey, hey it's not your fault. Just because Tuckers a crazy man and whacked that guy doesn't mean it's your fault, you didn't kill him." Booth's voice was deep, reassuring. The young psychologist felt a little better, but was still wracked with fright.

Sweets' stood behind Brennan and Booth as they knocked, which concerned them both. Usually he stood off to the side or slightly behind them, but this time he was practically cowering in their shadows. A woman opened the door, she wore a simple dress with a cardigan over it. She had moccasins on her feet, and her face was gentle, her age probably in the mid 50's. Her hair was a fading rusty red, it brushed over her shoulders, curling behind her ears. She smiled with her thin pink lips, all her wrinkles made her look kind and wise. "Hello? May I help you." Her timid voice spoke, acknowledging the two before her, unable to see the hiding sweets.

"Yes, hello. FBI." Booth took out his badge and showed it to her, her color draining immediately. "Are you the mother of Lance Reed?" He kept his voice kind, gentle.

"No, I'm the wife of Lance Reed...why?" Her voice picked up with her question, her eyebrows raised quizzically. "Has something happened to my husband?"

"Uhm, yes…" Booth trailed off, utterly flabbergasted. He held up a picture they'd gotten from the DMV to the woman and she nodded, showing it was her husband. Turning the picture back around, Booth shook his head, the young man on the photo's hair was longer than Sweets', covering his ears. His eyes were younger looking, less mature, and he had no dimples. Lance Sweets had deep brown, thoughtful eyes, while this mans were a hazel, jumpy sort. He resembled a drunk college student. "I'm sorry to inform you, Mrs. Reed, but we've found some remains that have been identified as your husband's." The woman's face lost all it's friendly, jolly looks, her bright blue eyes fading as tears cascaded over her cheeks. Shaking her head violently, she motioned for them to come in, putting her hand over her mouth she shook silently. Her shoulders hunched, and her tears silently fell, she pressed her hand to a photo on the wall as she followed them inside. Sweets glanced up to see the photo was of her and his almost twin on their wedding day. Guilt flew over him, bombing his every thought, he pressed it away. As she sat in the living room, her head turned down to her legs, the three sat.

"Hello Mrs. Reed, I'm Dr. Lance Sweets." The psychologist spoke gently, leaning closer to the woman. Her gaze turned up and her eyes widened, staring at him. "What's your name?"

"I-I'm Darla Reed, pleased to meet you...Lance.." Her words were slow as she stared in disbelief at the doctor. "You're a doctor? You look 20." She shook her head, trying to be sure she was seeing correctly.

"Yes, I am." He stated simply in return. "I'm sorry, this is difficult I know.." She glared at him before he could finish, halting his words.

"You don't know.." She barked at him, causing the man to flinch, falling backwards. He pushed his body into the couch, traumatized still by the return of his childhood torturer.

"No..I don't." He spoke gently, clearing his throat he pushed himself forward. The woman felt a little guilty for scaring the young man, so she looked him in the eyes. "But to find the person who killed your husband, you'll need to help agent Booth." Sweets' words were kind, practiced and robotic, but there was an edge. A bite to his words as he pulled his card from his jacket pocket, placing it in her hand, not so gently. "Call me if you need anything." Again, sweet, kind words on the surface with a slight sting hidden inside. Sweets nodded to Booth, giving him the lead, with an unsure nod in return Booth started in.

"Ddi your husband have any enemies?" Booth spoke the classic question, watching like an eagle over the woman, she simply shook her head no. "Any recent fights, arguments, or anything like that?" She began to shake her head again, when she turned her gaze to the agent. He knew what was coming next, it nearly always happened.

"Yes." Darla said, and Booth almost smiled at himself for calling it. "His boss, he works as a photographer, was yelling at him over the phone a few weeks ago. He said his work wasn't creative anymore, he was barely an artist, which isn't true my Lance was amazing." Booth shook his head, seeing more and more how different the two Lance's were.

"Why didn't you report him missing, Mrs. Reed?" He asked as he made a note about the boss. She looked up, startled at the question.

"W-well you see, Lance was a free spirit." She said, twisting a tissue in her hands. "He'd sometimes run off to take photos at exotic places.." She continued, her voice growing quiet.

"I'm sorry to have to ask this but, did you suspect your husband of having an affair?" As he spoke he already saw her begin to nod, as more tears began to flow.

"I knew he was, I mean he loved me but I'm old. He wanted young, fun women from time to time, but he always came back to me." She covered her face in her hands and Sweets sat up, catching something in her words.

"Where were you three weeks ago on the 5th of December?" Brennan interjected, seeing how Sweets had reacted to the woman's comment.

"I was at a pottery show in Dallas, Texas.." She mumbled. "You can check." With that last statement, everyone knew it was time to go.

"Sweets, what did your shrinky mojo catch?" Booth turned to the young man as soon as they were outside the Reeds house.

"Shrinky mojo? Is that how it works, Agent Booth?" Sweets turned to him, a laughing his tone. Booth nodded, trying to press the young man forward. "She referred to Lance in past tense. She said 'was' and 'loved' like she'd already known he was dead, usually after someone loses a loved one they still refer to them in present tense." His voice was growing more sure as he spoke, and he began sounding less scared. Dr. Brennan smiled, nodding at him, happy that he was becoming himself.

"Good work, Dr. Sweets." She surprised him by patting his shoulder and complimenting him.

"Yeah, just don't call the victim Lance, it's freaky." Booth nodded, turning to the car. Sweets followed after them, pulling himself into the back seat as the two in front buckled up. "I'll look into the pottery thing, maybe we'll find a crack in her story." Booth smiled at his own pun, which only received a collective groan from his two passengers.

"Did you find out anything?" Cam asked immediately as the trio entered the lab. Sweets had to stay near Booth, under the agents own order which he'd made on the ride here.

"Yeah, our vic was a photographer who liked cougars." Booth said back, keeping close to the psychologist out of worry. Cam nodded slowly, not totally understanding.

"I found a few more particulates I've been trying to place and.." Hodgins trailed off as he saw Sweets entering in his suit, a smile on his face. "Our very own junior shrink is back with his shrinky mojo." With that comment Sweets threw his head back, letting out an exasperated groan.

"The particulates, Hodgins?" Bones asked as she swiped her card to walk onto the platform.

"Right..as I was saying, I haven't found out where they're from. They have clay makeup, but also some other stuff." He continued as he ran down the stairs, going back to his lab.

"Hey cutie, I see you've got yourself all therapisted up." Angela giggled as she saw Sweets who just shook his head, throwing his hands up as he leaned against the railing waiting for Booth. She walked over to him, grinning. "Why are you in the lab, sweetie, don't you like your office anymore?"

"Agent Booth says I have to stay by him, for protective reasons." Sweets sighed, pushing his weight against the railing.

"Hell of a good reason to me, Sweets." Angela spoke, her voice becoming a bit more serious.

"I'm fine, really. You all worry too much." Sweets smiled at her, trying to reassure her.

"We worry cause your our baby." She said, pinching his cheek. She changed her voice pitch to match a woman speaking to a baby's. He pulled away, rubbing his cheek, he couldn't keep himself from smiling. "We care about you, Sweets." He felt his breath halt for a moment, and a smile spread over his face. Angela saw but chose not to comment, she knew that's some truth he needed to hear. That's where she left it as she walked, a jump in her step, back to her office.

…

Next up, we find ourselves some suspects! Yay!