I don't own Bones.

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Meeting Angela in the park, Booth looked around to see if he recognized anyone besides Harris. Seeing Agent Sanchez sitting a hundred yards away, Booth ignored him and continued to search the area. Not seeing anyone else, Booth leaned back on the bench and placed his left arm across the back of the bench.

Angela, approaching Booth, watched him turn his face upwards and close his eyes. He looked tired and that worried her. Walking over towards the bench, Angela noticed Agents Harris and Sanchez staring at her. Lifting her chin, she ignored them and sat down next to Booth.

"You look tired Booth. Are you getting enough sleep?

Opening his eyes, Booth smiled, "Sure, it's the hard work they have me doing right now. Who knew pushing paper could wear you out?"

Lifting up a bag she was carrying, Angela asked, "Are you hungry? I brought some empanadas."

Moving his arm from the back of the bench, Booth leaned forward, "Sure, thanks."

Handing him two wrapped empanadas, Angela noted, "I see you still have babysitters."

Nodding his head, Booth unwrapped one of the fried pies and spoke around the filling, "Yeah, lucky me. It's the biggest waste of man power I've seen in a while. It's not like I know where Bones is for God's sake."

Shrugging her shoulders, Angela replied, "Well, I guess they have to make sure."

Eating his spicy meal, Booth asked, "So, how's it going? Any luck yet?"

Shaking her head, Angela looked over at Harris, "No, I'm still working on it when I can."

Frowning, Booth asked, "When you can?"

Turning her gaze back towards Booth, she responded, "I still have to do my job. The only reason I haven't quit is because I need access to my computers. So I work on Pelant's crap between working on my job. It has to be that way, Booth."

Sighing, Booth bit off a piece of his empanada and chewed it slowly. Swallowing, he glanced at Angela, "Yeah, I guess that's true."

Patting his knee, Angela smiled, "You need to come over for dinner this coming weekend. Michael got a little growth spurt. He's growing so fast."

Feeling his chest tighten, Booth shook his head, "Uh, thanks Angela, I can't I have . . . I have something I need to do, maybe some other time." Staring at Harris, he spoke quietly, "I have to go. Thanks for lunch."

Leaning over, Booth kissed Angela on the cheek and stood up. Walking down the path, Booth threw his second pastry away in a trash bin and put his hands in his pants pockets, a picture of sadness for all to see who cared to look.

Curious, Harris walked by staring at Angela a questioning look on his face. Sanchez, pretending that he didn't recognize Angela followed Harris and Booth out of the park.

Angela, a tear falling down her cheek, reached up and brushed it away, "Damn it. I just had to remind him that his baby is gone and he can't see her growth spurts. I am so . . ."

Furious with herself, Angela walked over to the trash receptacle and threw her lunch away. Staring down the path at the receding agents, Angela soon followed them out of the park.

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Sitting at his desk in the Hoover, Booth felt someone standing next to him. Looking up, Flynn pointed at his office. Watching Flynn walk away, Booth picked up a pile of reports and placed them on Harris's desk, "Do something useful."

Picking up the top form, Harris looked it over and started making notes in the margins and then placed it in a separate pile.

Booth walking into his old office stood near the door and folded his arms across his chest. Flynn, staring at him from his desk, frowned, "Why'd you meet Angela at the Park?"

Staring at Flynn, Booth finally answered, "She's a friend. Believe it or not I have a few. She bought me lunch."

Staring coldly at Booth, Flynn remarked, "If we find out that Angela has been passing notes to you from Dr. Brennan it won't go well for her or you."

Irritated, Booth responded, "Neither of us knows where Bones is."

Shaking his head, Flynn replied, "No one believes that."

Shrugging his shoulders, Booth didn't reply. Waving him away, Flynn watched Booth leave his office. Staring at a mountain of paper sitting in front of him, Flynn pulled the top folder off and started reading Lester Brown's latest notes on Booth's movements.

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Cullen was sitting in the Founding Father's sipping a club soda when he saw Booth enter the bar. Watching Booth walk over to a back table, he noticed Harris follow him and then sit across the table from Booth. Sighing, Cullen picked up his drink and walked to the table. Staring down at Harris, Harris swallowed and looked up at the Deputy Director.

Placing his drink on the table, Cullen motioned for Harris to slide over. "So, this is your idea of tailing someone?"

His face grim, Harris responded, "I'm not tailing anyone. I'm a damn babysitter. Flynn is full of shit . . . sir."

Sitting next to Harris, Cullen responded, "I want you in my office tomorrow at 9."

Nodding his head, Harris acknowledged Cullen, "Yes sir."

Turning his gaze onto Booth's impassive face, Cullen stared at the tired looking agent, "The loyalty of your men and women is quite remarkable, Booth, misplaced but remarkable."

Shrugging his shoulders, Booth responded, "I don't know where Bones is."

Shaking his head, the Deputy Director replied, "I didn't ask you if you did."

Studying Booth, Cullen, moved his drink to his right and leaned towards Booth, "Julia and I want you to come to dinner tomorrow night, sevenish."

Surprised, Booth stared at his boss, "Uh, alright."

Smirking, Cullen responded, "You're enthusiasm is overwhelming. Dress casual and bring Lester with you."

Curious, Booth asked, "Lester?"

Chuckling, Cullen answered, "Harris is sitting here; so, God knows what Lester is doing. You might as well bring him."

Nodding his head, Booth grimly replied, "We'll be there."

Smiling, the Deputy Director picked up his drink, "Don't be late." Standing, Cullen walked over to the bar, placed his glass down and left.

Harris, laying his head on the table in front of him muttered, "It's been nice knowing you Boss . . . Booth. I bet Alaska is cold even this time of year."

Staring at Harris's sad bearing, Booth shook his head, "When I get my job back, I'll transfer you back."

Looking up with hope in his eyes, Harris responded, "Then you damn well better get your job back."

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