Thanks for the reviews. I appreciate all of them.

I don't own Bones.

Ooooooooooooooooooo

The nightclub business turned out to be fairly interesting to Booth after all. It wasn't his first career choice, or even his second or third, but it was interesting. His patrons were interesting too. Booth had noticed an interesting character that hung out at the bar almost very night and he had found out that the man was a writer. In fact, he wrote crime novels. Sweets had said his name was Jack Hodgins.

One evening, when Jack had finally showed up at the club, Booth found Jack sitting at the end of the bar, writing on a napkin. Sitting down next to Jack, Booth tried to look at the napkin. Jack noticed the interest and looked up. "Can I help you?"

Booth tried to be friendly. "What are you writing?"

Not sure he liked people delving into his business, Jack shrugged his shoulders. "Just observations."

Interested in what Jack did in this world, Booth prodded him. "Observations?"

Confused at the attention he was getting, Jack glared at the club owner. "Since when do you care what I'm doing?"

Surprised at the antagonism, Booth glared back. "Excuse me?"

"You usually ignore me." Jack was suspicious of Booth's questions. "You've told me in the past that as long as I buy something I can hang around and make notes about the people I see. You've also told me that you don't like crime novels so you aren't interested in what I'm doing . . . So why the sudden interest now?"

Rubbing the side of his head, Booth scowl disappeared. "I'm interested in everyone that comes in to the club. I may not have time to talk with everyone, but I do keep track of those people that come here all of the time . . . Do you have a problem with that?"

Jack shook his head and stared very closely at Booth. "You've changed."

Alert, Booth sat up straight. "I've changed? What do you mean?"

"Look . . . you have a reputation as being a nice guy, but everyone also knows that you don't have patience when it comes to interacting with your customers." Jack was puzzled about Booth's sudden change. "That's fine. That's what you have Angela and Daisy for. I'm just not sure why you're interested in me now. I heard you've been sick. Maybe something happened while you were ill and you changed." Jack picked up his drink and sipped it.

So Hodgins was just as observant in this world as he was in his dream world. Booth thought that was interesting. "So . . . it's not possible that I'm just interested in you because I want to be a good club owner?"

Jack was starting to wonder what was going on. Booth was definitely not the man he was used to. "No . . . You were looking at what I was writing down on the napkin. Why?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Booth glanced at the napkin. "Words interest me. I also have a question for you."

Curious, Jack picked up the napkin and placed it in his jacket pocket. "What's the question?"

"How do you come up with the ideas for your stories?" Booth really wanted to know how Jack did his job of writing. "Do you read about them somewhere and get the idea to write about them from that or do you have dreams and get your ideas from them?"

Amused, Hodgins sipped some more of his drink before he answered. "I get most of my ideas from newspapers and news magazines. I try to think about how I can humanize the story enough so that people would want to read about it."

Disappointed, Booth sighed. "So you've never had a dream that seemed real enough to write about it?"

Booth's questions were starting to bother him. They seemed personal some how. "No . . . I barely remember my dreams. Do you remember your dreams?"

"Yeah." Booth turned to stare at the mirror behind the bar. His image was slightly distorted by distance. "My dreams are very vivid. They're very hard to forget."

Intrigued, Jack stared at Booth's profile. "They must be pretty interesting if you're willing to mention them to a stranger."

Booth turned his gaze back upon the writer. "Who said you're a stranger?"

Totally confused, Jack shook his head. "What does that supposed to mean?"

Somehow disappointed and not sure why, Booth stood up. "Never mind . . .. It's too complicated to explain and you wouldn't understand anyway."

Ooooooooooooooooooooo

It had been two days since Arastoo had withdrawn his offer for the club and it seemed to be quiet. As far as Booth was concerned, that was fine with him. He could use the peace. He didn't like to think of himself as a violent man, but he knew that when it came to his family and his friends, he would do whatever it took to protect them. He had thought about keeping Worstenbach's gun, but in the end, he threw it in the Potomac River. Keeping the gun would just invite trouble he didn't need.

Oooooooooooooooo

Booth was sitting at a table near the bar looking at his email on his IPhone when Jared came up to the table and sat down. "Well Seeley, word on the street is, Arastoo withdrew his offer for the club."

Not looking up from his phone, Booth shrugged his shoulder. "Yeah, I know."

He had heard other interesting things too and Jared wanted answers. "Why'd he do that?"

Booth shrugged his shoulders again, his gaze still on his phone. "I don't know."

Disgusted that Booth wasn't going to explain what was going on, Jared opened his mouth and then closed it. Looking over Booth's shoulder he noticed Brennan who was talking to Angela at the end of the platform. "Wow, she's beautiful." Jared thought. "I wish she was interested in me."

A feeling of menace coming over him, Jared stopped staring at Brennan and looked at Booth who was glaring at him. "One of my informants said he heard that you got into a fight with someone a couple of days ago. He thought the guy was some muscle that Arastoo sent over here to talk to you. It didn't turn out too well for the muscle. Is that why Arastoo withdrew his offer?"

Not about to confess anything, Booth shook his head. "I didn't get into a fight with anyone. It's been very peaceful around here for the last few days. That's just the way I like it too."

He knew his brother was lying to him and Jared didn't like it. "You know . . . some day, you're going to get hurt taking matters into your own hands. If you were being threatened by someone, you should have called me . . . I'm a cop. It's my job to help the helpless."

Brennan had seen Jared sitting at Booth's table and had decided to join them. Arriving at the table, she sat down and heard Jared's last comment to Booth. Turning to Booth, Brennan placed her hand on Booth's arm. "Did you get into a fight with someone Booth?"

Angry that Jared was worrying Brennan, Booth did his best to stop it. "No, of course not. When would I have gotten into a fight? . . . Jared just heard some rumor and decided to take it as gospel that's all."

Relieved, Brennan turned towards Jared. "Booth is a very peaceful man and doesn't like violence, Jared. That's why he got out of the army. Your informant probably mixed Booth up with someone else."

Jared knew his informant was right, but he couldn't prove it. "Maybe . . . I did hear that Arastoo withdrew his offer for the club. The fight was supposed to be connected to that."

His hand on Brennan's hand, Booth smiled at her. "Honey, Arastoo probably withdrew his offer because he got tired of asking. It's not my fault if someone is going to spread wild rumors about why he withdrew his offer . . . You know I wouldn't do anything to upset you and I know getting into fights would do that. I'm not crazy . . . well I am, but not like that."

"Booth . . ." Brennan hated for Booth to call himself crazy.

Quicly turning his head, Booth glared at his brother. "I would appreciate it if you would keep your rumors to yourself, Jared. I don't want you upsetting Bren. She has enough to worry about. She doesn't need you to add to them."

Frustrated, Jared threw up his hands. "Fine . . . fine, Just stay out of trouble." Standing, Jared gave his brother some advice. "You know Seeley . . . Someday you're going to try to take care of something your way and it's going to get you hurt. Try not to be a hero all the time." Since Booth didn't have a response, Jared shook his head, turned around and left.

Concerned that she had missed something, Brennan knew that her husband didn't get along with his brother. She hoped that was all that conversation was about. "He's just concerned about you Booth. He really does like you."

Wise to his brother in this world as well as the dream world, Booth chuckled. "You mean, he really likes you. He barely tolerates me."

"Of course he likes you Booth." Brennan hoped that wasn't true. "He's your brother. And yes, he does like me because I'm your wife."

Leaning over Booth kissed her. "Sure. That must be it."

Oooooooooooooooooo

Any good? Reviews would be appreciated. Thanks.