Thanks for taking out a little of your time on your Saturday to read my story. I appreciate it.

I definitely don't own Bones.

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Arriving at home that evening, Booth found Lester sitting on the front steps, a couple of filled plastic bags next to his feet. Staring at Booth, Lester frowned, "What?"

Standing over Lester, Booth folded his arms across his chest, "Did you TP Flynn's house?"

Arching his eyebrows, Lester responded, "Absolutely not."

Frowning, Booth stared at Lester trying to ascertain if he was being lied to. Lester, with an angelic look, smiled, "I'm not a kid, Booth. Someone TP'd his house; but, it wasn't me. I just saw it when I drove past his house yesterday."

Pursing his lips, Booth dropped his arms to his sides, "Do you know who did it?"

Clearing his throat, Lester replied, "Don't ask me that question, Booth. You need to stay out of this."

Puzzled, Booth asked, "Why?"

Glancing at his car, parked across the street, Lester shrugged his shoulders, "Because I'm asking you to trust me. You don't want to know about it."

Shaking his head, Booth walked up the steps, unlocked the door and opened it. Leaving the door ajar, Booth walked across the living room and up the stairs to his bedroom. Lester, following Booth into the house, looked around and saw he was alone. Taking his phone out of his pocket, Lester made a phone call.

"Someone told Booth about Flynn's house being toilet papered. . . . No it wasn't me. No I don't know who it was. You'd better hope Booth doesn't find out. . . . Whatever man. I'm just warning you. . . . I know because Brian told me. . . . I don't know who told Brian. . . I got to go."

Ending his call, Lester carried his bags into the kitchen and put the laundry soap in the laundry room and the dish soap under the sink.

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Ending his call, Hodgins turned to Angela, "Someone told Booth about Flynn's house."

Worried, Angela asked, "Does he know who did it?"

Smiling, Hodgins replied, "Nope. Lester says he told Booth he didn't know who did it."

Puzzled, Angela asked, "Well, how does Lester know about it?"

Placing his phone on the table in front of him, Hodgins answered, "He said Brian Holtz told him about it."

Exasperated, Angela scowled, "Well how did Agent Holtz know about it?"

Slowly shaking his head, Hodgins smiled, "Lester doesn't know."

Sighing deeply, Angela leaned back in her chair, "This is ridiculous. You know what, I don't care if Booth finds out or not. Flynn has been very nasty to me every time he talks to me. I've had enough. It was the only way I could show him he was full of shit and keep my job."

Smiling, Hodgins stood up and walked around the table. Leaning over, he placed his arms around Angela's shoulders and kissed her.

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Very early the next morning, Harris found an envelope taped to Booth's front door. Carefully poking the envelope, Harris didn't feel anything suspicious. Walking back to his car, he retrieved some latex gloves from the trunk and put them on. Strolling back to the front door, he carefully took the envelope down, carried it out in to the front yard and using a pocket knife, slit the envelope open. Gingerly opening the envelope, he carried the envelope back to the front steps and by the light of the porch light, peered in it. Seeing paper, he carefully pulled the paper out and looked at it. Sighing, Harris slid the picture back into the envelope. Taking his gloves off and placing them in his jacket pocket, he knocked on the front door.

Lester opening the door, smiled at Harris, "Hey, you're early."

Shrugging his shoulders, Harris stepped past Lester into the house. Shoving the envelope at Lester, he spoke quietly, "I found this taped to the front door."

Opening the envelope and taking the picture out of the envelope, Lester smiled, "I think you should go upstairs and give it to him now. He's had a rough night tonight."

Taking the envelope back, Harris responded, "I'm here so you go home. Kiss Claire for me."

Snickering, Lester replied, "The hell with that. I'll kiss her for me."

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Knocking on Booth's bedroom door, Harris looked at his watch, 4:03. Rolling his eyes, Harris knocked again.

Opening his door, Booth glared, "I'm sleeping or at least I'm trying to."

Shrugging his shoulders, Harris held up the envelope, "I found this taped to the front door."

Puzzled, Booth took the envelope. "You opened it?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Harris nodded his head, "Yeah, out in the yard."

Frowning, Booth peered in the envelope. "You didn't wear gloves?"

Shaking his head, Harris answered, "Yes, I wore gloves and before you ask why I'm still not wearing them now, look at what's in the envelope before you tear me a new one."

Turning his gaze back to the envelope, Booth removed the picture and looked at it. Swallowing, Booth looked at Harris and smiled, "Okay, thanks."

Stepping back and closing the door, Booth walked back to his bed, sat down and stared at the picture. Wiping a tear from his face, Booth ran his index finger over the picture of his daughter.

Harris, whistling quietly, walked back down the hallway and then downstairs.

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