A/N: Welcome back everyone! Good news; I've finally got my laptop! I've got all my stories transferred over to it, and I'm loving it. This story and Always All For You have my full attention for the next week-I'm hoping to get pretty far ahead before I move into my residence hall and start classes. I want to stay on schedule, but fanfic is going to have to come in second to schoolwork. Unfortunately. Anyways, though, I hope you are all still enjoying this story. I know this is painful and you all want Brennan back safe and sound. But so do Booth and the others, and they've never let her down in the past. We'll just have to see...

Song for this one is Come Home by OneRepublic. Such a wonderful song.

Chapter 28: Come Home

Come home
Come home
Cause I've been waiting for you
For so long
For so long
And right now there's a war between the vanities
But all i see is you and me
The fight for you is all I've ever known
Ever known
So come home
Oh

July 15th, 2018

Booth clicked the pen in his hand methodically, following a steady pace as he focused his attention on the door in front of him. It was a fancy pen—the one Brennan had gotten him for Christmas a few years ago. He kept himself from breaking it in his grasp. It was a piece of her, that she'd given to him. It was all he had, at the moment.

Joel would be the first to be questioned. He was just waiting for Sweets, who had requested to join him in the interrogation. If Max had his way, he'd have been there as well. But they had convinced him to stay at the lab. It was clear that he wasn't going to be listening much longer, though.

Charlie had sent teams to each of the locations Angela had found so far, and they were waiting on a report from those, as well. Finding Kevin and Joel had been simpler—they had been at their office building, working as though they were completely innocent.

Booth could barely stand still; the anxiety was bearing down on him as worst case scenarios raced through his head.

And he couldn't help but think that they might find her, without him, and he wouldn't be able to help.

But as long as she was safe, it didn't matter. That's what he tried to convince himself of, at least. Because his inner being was dying to get out of this place. To be the one leading the way through the door to each of those properties. All those past times, he had been the one who got there. He had been able to save her.

This wasn't about being the hero. This was about him simply not trusting that anyone else could do this. Every past time, he had been there. He had arrived just in time to shoot Kenton, to see that plume of smoke from the blast of the airbag, to take down the Harbinger doctor.

When it came to her, he wanted to be the one there. It was how it was, and there wasn't much he could do about it.

Except fight it.

And he was doing a decent job of it, because he was here, in the Hoover, waiting to question the two people who he knew were behind her disappearance. Two people who had most likely spent the past few days torturing the woman he loved in every way their sick minds could imagine.

He felt nauseous at just the thought.

Sweets approached at last, giving him a grim look that was mixed thickly with concern. He had every right to be worried, of course. If Tanner got a look at him, or at any of these files, he'd never let him in there. It was for their friendship, not for their work relationship, that Sweets was allowing him in there now.

Mostly, though, it was for Bones.

He couldn't be more grateful. Giving the shrink a quick nod, he stepped forward and turned the handle to the door, leading the way into the room. Joel was sitting on the other side of the table, drumming his fingers on the hard surface. He turned to them with a surprised expression on his face.

Booth's eyes darkened, and a pulse started thrumming powerfully in a vein on his neck before he even pulled out his chair and sat down.

Sweets followed suit, clearing his throat and then crossing his arms. Trying to look tougher than he was, but Booth gave him credit for it. He had a decent poker face.

"So, what's this about, Agent Booth?"

"You know what, Mr. Baleno," Booth said tightly, leaning forward.

He shrugged indifferently. "You'll have to fill me in."

"Is there a reason you haven't called a lawyer?" Sweets cut in before Booth to retort.

He fell silent, leaning back in his chair and waiting for the man to answer the question.

Joel gave him a thoughtful look, as though he was sizing him up. He smiled. "I am a lawyer, thank you. And I'm not worried about this... inconvenience. I'll have it cleared up shortly, I'm sure. And besides... I always did love a good lawsuit. Kevin's probably drawing up the papers in his head right now. I've got some suggestions for a couple of things that can be added, of course. Police brutality, for one."

Booth ground his teeth. "You don't have a mark on you."

"Ah, but I've won cases with less evidence, Agent. Trust me."

"Your friend is dead," Sweets tried next.

"James, you mean?" Joel said, putting on a somber face. "That was quite a tragedy."

"Yes, it was. Tell me... what do you know about it?"

"Not much," Joel answered, shrugging again.

"Listen," Booth said sharply, leaning dangerously close across the table, nearly on his feet. The chair skidded back a few inches. "We know, alright? We know everything. So you might as well start talking."

"Now, it seems to me that if someone knew everything... they wouldn't have much need for more answers, would they?"

Booth was getting to the point where he was going to start seeing red.

"Where is she, you son of a bitch..."

"Who are we talking about?" Joel said politely, tilting his head to the side, a smile perched on his face. Booth wanted to punch it right off of him.

Sweets reached out a hand, as if it would really do anything, and said quickly, "Dr. Brennan is missing. You are already aware of this, because you removed her from the airport after drugging her. You then took her to your favorite place. As it is right now, you're on the bad side of a very powerful government agency, and we've got enough evidence to bring you in on conspiracy charges, possible bribery, two counts of murder, and kidnapping of an FBI consultant. People like you... get the death penalty. Especially when their partner in crime flips on them."

"Wow. Seems like it might be a good idea to say nothing, then, right?"

Sweets' jaw set back at a sharp angle. And Booth saw something in his expression then that he didn't think he'd ever seen before. He'd seen a lot of things from him—fear, panic, confusion, despair, annoyance—but he didn't think he'd ever seen raw fury before.

He hadn't even known this side of the shrink existed.

"You will die for this," he said lowly. "The only question is... whether it's from the needle, or after a long life in prison. So, you tell me. Do you want to die sooner, or later, Mr. Baleno?"

Joel regarded him curiously. Re-evaluating his original perception.

And then he crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. "I think I'm done talking."

"We'll be back," Booth growled, and then knocked his chair over on the way out. Sweets followed him at a slower pace, but slammed the door behind him. He hissed out a sigh when they were back in the hallway, his head falling back.

"Come on," Booth said sharply, heading straight for the second door.

"Wait a second," Sweets said, jogging to catch up. He put a hand on Booth's shoulder, which jarred him to a halt, more from surprise than anything else.

"What?" Booth snapped.

Sweets didn't flinch. "I have a few things to discuss with you before we go in there."

"If you're going to tell me to watch my temper..." Booth said, trailing off warningly.

"I'm not," Sweets responded at once, shaking his head rapidly. "I would say to be careful how much you show them, because they feed off of it... but that's not the main part of what I was going to say."

"Fine. Go ahead."

"Alright, like I said earlier, they work together very efficiently. But because of Joel's position as driver, I have to say he is slightly lower than Kevin in their mini-hierarchy."

"And how does this help us? Joel seems to think he's an equal in the relationship. He certainly acts like one."

"Yes, but he's not important. He perceives himself as equal, like you said. But that's not how Kevin will see it. He's got Joel doing the lower work. He sees himself as the alpha. Maybe he even humors himself by letting his half-brother believe he's on equal ground."

"And we can use that on Kevin," Booth reasoned, nodding slowly.

"Exactly. He'll be ready to take charge. He'll want to call the shots. He won't believe Joel turned on him, but he'll be more likely to think he can outsmart us. He'll give us something, I'm sure of it. Especially once he thinks there's no way out. He's a sociopath—he's going to enjoy this as much as he can. Don't think it will be easy."

"One fucking messed up family," Booth muttered.

"Yes. Yes they are."

"What, no hypothesis about bad parenting or abusive childhoods?"

Sweets shook his head. "That doesn't make a sociopath. Although, two in the same family isn't something I've dealt with before."

Booth grunted, his attention back on the door.

"What's the plan?" he said heavily, defaulting to the shrink. He was used to intimidating, to using the evidence against their suspect. This was unfamiliar territory, and Sweets had already given him a lot more than he could have come up with on his own.

"We let him think he's the smartest one in the room," Sweets responded simply. "Give him the upper hand. I know—it's not going to be enjoyable. Show your frustration, but try to rein in your anger. Just make it known that we're stuck. When he knows we're hinging on him and him alone... he'll want to toy with us. It's in his nature."

Booth swallowed, and then nodded.

He opened the door.

Kevin didn't look fazed in the slightest by their arrival.

He glanced up, and then a smile perched itself arrogantly on his face, and he tilted his chin up and watched them as they walked towards him and pulled out their chairs.

"Do you know why you're here?" Booth started.

"I assume this has something to do with what happened to James?"

"In part."

Kevin raised an eyebrow, waiting for more.

"We know you took Dr. Brennan," Sweets said, interjecting before Booth could. He shot him a look of surprise, unsure of where to go with that but deciding that if Sweets thought it was best to just come out with it... then fine. He'd just wait and see where this took them.

"Do you, now?"

Well, no denial, at least.

"Yes, we do," Sweets continued. "If you talk now, you might not get the death penalty. Tell us where she is."

"Death penalty? Seems a bit harsh. What is it that I'm supposed to have done to warrant that, exactly?"

"We've got a list going," Sweets assured, cutting a look towards Booth that told him to keep quiet. Booth understood—leave out specifics. Keep up the illusion that they were grasping at straws without being too obvious about it.

Kevin seemed to take the bait, though, because his smile widened. "Fascinating," he said.

Booth ground his teeth. Every word that this man spoke made him want to pin him to the wall and strangle the answers out of him. She was out there, somewhere. They had to find her, and every minute that they didn't could be one less minute that she had left to live.

Kevin's attention switched to him, and he smirked.

Booth's eyes darkened dangerously.

"Hurts when you misplace something so precious, doesn't it, Agent?"

His chair squealed as it pushed out a few inches. He was ready to follow through on his desire to beat the pulp out of this bastard. Sweets kicked him under the table none-to-gently.

"Where is she?" he hissed lowly. It was a good thing Sweets had told him to act clueless and desperate. Because he had very little control on his side at the moment. And that question had been beating around desperately in his skull, dying to escape.

Kevin laughed. He was really trying his luck, Booth thought, clenching his fists. Perhaps he was unaware that there was nobody watching from the other side of the mirror. No video or audio equipment running. Just in case. They'd claim it was a malfunction later—Angela had told him she could make it look convincing, if it was required. Sweets had pretended not to listen.

It was amazing how far they were all willing to go to get her back. How much they were willing to risk to have even the slightest chance of saving her life.

He would never take them for granted again. Any of them.

"Fear... is an amazing thing, Agent Booth. It has a physical effect on the body, almost instantly. And the mental damage is... astounding. You can see it in people's eyes. So... raw. Pure."

His mouth had gone dry, and he knew his face was probably pale.

"What did you do to her?"

"I don't recall saying I did anything. I was just commenting on a reality of life. If you choose to take it differently... that's up to you. But I still say I have no idea what you're talking about."

At Sweets' lead, they left the room.

"Explain," Booth demanded firmly once the door had shut behind them. He started pacing, running his hand up and down the back of his neck.

"He's playing a game. Tormenting us."

"Yeah, I got that much. But what did that mean, what he said? Is he just trying to get under my skin?"

"He's referring to Dr. Brennan, clearly. He's telling us that she... was suffering from an immense amount of fear while they were with her."

He closed his eyes, biting down hard on his tongue and trying to focus on the pain.

"Of course she's afraid," he choked out at last. "Sweets, did you see those pictures of the last woman they took? Do you have any idea... what they've probably done to her..."

"There was a case we worked, years ago," the shrink said, more to himself. He hadn't been listening to what Booth had just said. "The killer scared his victim's to death."

Booth shivered. "You don't think that's what..?"

"No, I don't think that's their plan for Dr. Brennan. Besides, her fright will be more contained to fear for her life, or fear of pain. There isn't anything that would cause such an intense reaction from her. Although..." he stopped, chewing on his lip. "From the way Kevin said it, I'd say he was referring to a single situation. A time when she was more terrified than any other. Probably related to what they've done with her in their absence."

"What are you talking about? In their absence?"

Sweets grimaced. "I've realized that they suspected they were going to be brought in. They would have prepared for that."

"What?" Booth demanded. "Like, they had to finish early?"

"No, no. She's not dead, Booth. I'm sure of that."

He let out a heavy sigh, unsure whether to be relieved or more terrified. "Then what are you talking about?"

"What is Dr. Brennan most afraid of, Booth? You know her better than anyone else."

He stammered for a moment, going through memories in his head. "She was afraid of snakes, on that case we had..." he said slowly. And then, his eyes widened, and his blood ran cold. "Oh, God," he said, his voice strangled.

"What?" Sweets asked, but Booth pushed past him and went straight back into the room.

The shrink hurried after him, but he wasn't fast enough. It only took a few seconds for Booth to cross the room, haul Kevin out of his seat, and pin him by the throat to the back wall.

"You bastard," Booth hissed. "You buried her. You buried her alive."

Kevin struggled against Booth's grip.

"Where? Where did you bury her, you son of a bitch? WHERE!"

"Booth!" Sweets said, trying to pull him away. "Booth, stop!"

He barely heard him. His grip only tightened. "You're going to tell me where she is, you slimy little..."

Somehow, Sweets managed to get in between them, and with a forceful shove that he certainly hadn't been expecting, he shoved them apart. He was breathing heavily as he stood between the two—Booth still looking for blood and Kevin clutching at his throat and bending over at the waist to catch his breath—and held his hands out towards both of them, as if that would stop anything from continuing.

But it did, because Booth's head was clearing. Kevin was never going to give him an address to look at, something that was only clarified as the other man began to laugh.

Sweets looked petrified; more so of what Booth might attempt than of the sociopath. But Booth stepped back, his face livid but his stance turning non-threatening. Slowly, Sweets relaxed his posture as well, stepping away from Kevin and towards the agent. He stood slightly in front of him, to the side, and watched Kevin with widened eyes.

The shrink then did something else that Booth had never seen him do. He stepped forward, seized the lawyer by his collar, and force-marched him to his seat, shoving him down into it harshly.

Booth's phone rang, and he gave one last furious glare to the man he so strongly hated before he left the room. He went immediately into the observation room, though, and watched Sweets return to his own seat before he answered the call.

"Booth."
"It's me," said Angela's voice, "We didn't find her, Booth, but we... we found where she was."

"Where?"

"Your friend Charlie... I called him with another address that came up in my search. I should have seen it sooner, should have remembered..."

"Where, Ange?"

"The apartment building. The one Maggie lived in."

He blinked dumbly, watching as Sweets engaged in a silent war, staring coldly across the table at Kevin. He had to say, the younger man had some guts.

"How?" he said at last. Where in that building could she have been held?

Angela knew exactly what he meant. "The basement," she said heavily.

And suddenly, Booth remembered a conversation he'd had, way back when this had all started.

The building had a lot of problems. The elevator... it didn't go down to the basement. Hadn't for years. No one had been down there in years...

"What did they find?" he asked, almost afraid of the answer.

"Charlie said for you to come there. And I'm going with you," she added firmly.

"Ange, I don't think that's—"

"I don't care, Booth. I'm going."

He sighed. "I'm on my way to the Jeffersonian," he told her, and hung up.

Reaching forward, he turned on the microphones so he could hear what was going on in the other room. They were speaking, now.

"—a lot to plan this," Sweets was saying.

Kevin laughed. "I don't know what you're trying to get me to say, Doc."

"Oh, nothing. I'm just making conversation. Aren't you?"

The lawyer leaned forward. "Tell you what. I shared a bit of interesting knowledge with your friend... I'll give you something to mull over, as well." Sweets nodded, raising an eyebrow. "Life... it starts in one place, and ends in another. Poetry in the ending; something for a writer to appreciate, I would think. A good final line."

Without another word, Sweets stood, pushed his chair in, and walked calmly to the door, letting himself out. Booth evacuated the observation room, joining him in the hallway.

"What does that mean?" he asked immediately.

"I don't know, yet. But it's important. And he's enjoying himself. I think it would be best to go over it with the group."

Booth nodded. "I'll drop you at the lab."

"Where are you going?"

"Angela and Charlie found our crime scene."

"Is she..?"

"She wasn't there," he said bitterly. "But... it's the place. And I'm going there."

Sweets looked like he wanted to object, but Booth gave him a warning look.

"I'm coming as well, then," the psychologist said, leaving no room for argument. "I need to see this, to get my profile complete. It might give us clues as to where they've moved her."

He ran his tongue over his dry lips and nodded. "Fine," he said shortly.

~BxBxBxBxBxB~

He slammed his door behind him as he got out of the SUV, heading straight towards the building without waiting for Sweets. Angela kept pace beside him. A new doorman was standing off to the side, being questioned by a few agents. Booth flashed his badge at the entrance and ducked through the door. The lobby looked like he remembered it from the first day. Filled with police and loud from the complaints of occupants.

Charlie spotted him quickly, and waved for him to come over. The janitor's closet, where they had found the murder weapon from the Maggie Singer case, was sitting propped open. Charlie wore a grim look on his face.

As Booth got close enough, he could see the back panel of the closet was gone. A dusty staircase, wider than he'd been expecting and lit by a single light bulb. A tech was hunched at the bottom, snapping photographs.

"Took us a while to find it," Charlie told him. "We talked to a few of the people who live here, asked if there was anywhere in the building where something like this could happen. Freaked quite a few of them out, but they all said they'd never seen the basement, and didn't know how to get there. The elevator doesn't travel down; one of them said they hit the button by accident once and the whole thing jammed."

Booth nodded, his eyes still locked on the staircase.

Charlie stepped fully out of the way, gesturing for him to go ahead. His face hard, he stepped into the closet and through the opening. The stairs squeaked as they began the decent. When they were low enough that they could see, Angela let out a strangled gasp from behind him.

He felt like he was going to be sick as he took in each detail one by one. His stomach spun.

The wall closest to him was covered in weapons and tools. A few were bloody, and the floor was littered with dried droplets of the vital fluid. His teeth clenching, he came to the bottom and stepped down onto the cement floor.

A mattress was leaned against the side of the staircase, coated in blood. But he knew, the moment his eyes landed on the second mattress, that the blood on this first one must be Veronica's. His mind barely processed it as he stepped across the space. Angela hovered on the bottom stair, her face sickly pale, and Sweets stepped down beside her before following cautiously behind Booth.

There were shackles, attached to a chain that was bolted to the wall. They lay open on the mattress, along with a coil of bloody rope. He hunched down next to it, holding his breath as the stench hit him. Tears bit at the corners of his eyes. He could see flecks of skin in the rope and on the edge of the shackles.

They'd bound her here. Clamped her in like an animal attached to the wall. They hadn't let her move even to go the bathroom. For five days.

He suddenly had a very strong desire to return to the Hoover and kill both Kevin and Joel. Slowly.

"Oh God," Angela cried from the stairs, and he turned, pushing back to his feet. She was staring, wide-eyed, at something that was wrapped around the railing for the stairs. As he took a few steps back towards her he realized what it was.

A whip.

All the air rushed out of his lungs.

Angela spun and dashed up the stairs. Booth cast Sweets one quick glance, and then hurried after her.

He found her hunched over a trashcan, and his gut clenched and nearly rebelled against him. He stayed back until she stood up, knowing full well that if he got close enough he was going to lose his stomach as well.

She stepped away from the trashcan, and he moved forward at once, pulling her into his arms and wrapping them tightly around her. A ragged sob broke loose from her throat, and he swallowed tightly, the tears coming back to his eyes.

"What they did..." Angela whispered. "Bren, she..."

"We'll find her," he forced out. "We're going to... we're going to get her back. I promise..."

Her shoulders shook, and he held her closer as she clutched her arms around him in return. They drew comfort from each other.

Sweets came up the stairs and stood a few feet away from them. His face had a green tinge to it.

"We don't have anything else to go off of now," Angela said, breaking the embrace and stepping back. She brushed at her eyes, sniffing before she hardened her resolve. Trying to be strong, to pull through. To come up with the solution for Brennan. "Do we?"

"I may have... something," Sweets said hesitantly. Booth looked at him expectantly. "There was a void. On the floor."

"Like something was moved?" Angela asked.

"Yeah, exactly. And if you noticed, there was a second entrance down there. A staircase in the corner that led to a bulkhead. There was a ramp propped up on it."

Booth swallowed. "That's how they got her out, then. Any idea what she was in?"

Sweets licked his dry lips nervously. "The shape and size... suggests a casket."

Booth swore under his breath, and Angela looked like she might throw up again.

"They... they put her in a casket?" she forced out disbelievingly, looking between the two of them. "Booth... Booth, they buried her?"

He ground his teeth, and then nodded.

She found a wall to lean up against, shaking her head, eyes huge with horror.

"How long?" she said finally.

Booth glanced at Sweets, who answered, "Judging more from my instinct than anything else... two hours, at the most."

"Alright, so we've got a tight window to find her in..." he said, swallowing. He felt his heartbeat picking up again. He had been sure that finding the killers would mean finding Bones. But now... now the killers were in custody and she was still out there. She was still on the edge of death.

They still might not be able to get to her in time.

"Life starts in one place, ends in another. Poetry... in the ending, a writer can appreciate that. And something about a final line."

Booth nodded, remembering the words.

"What?" Angela demanded, her brows pulled together as she looked between the two men in confusion.

"It's what Kevin said to Sweets."

"So it's... what? A clue?"

"I think so, yes," Sweets explained, "He also said something about fear, which is how we guessed she was buried alive."

Angela set her jaw. "I'll kill them myself for this, Booth. I swear to God I will. You have no idea... what the Gravedigger did to her, it ate at her. It still gets to her—she told me she still has nightmares about it. After all this time. And I know Jack does, too."

"I have some from time to time," he agreed, "But mine... it's not the same. I was in danger, yeah. But I wasn't buried. And I... can't even imagine what that must have been like. Being underground like that..."

Angela waved a hand to cut him off, and he snapped his mouth shut. She had a good point. Talking about it was only going to make this harder.

"What were you thinking, Sweets?" she asked, turning her attention to the shrink.

"He mentions the end of life. Which ties into the coffin."

"We should be looking in a graveyard," Booth said stiffly.

"That could be anywhere," Angela murmured. "We can hardly search every one..."

"We're going to narrow it down," he said firmly, flipping open his cell phone and hitting Cam's speed dial.

They were going to need some help.

~BxBxBxBxBxB~

Breathe in. Breathe out. Even, steady. Count the breaths.

One.

Two.

Three.

Don't panic.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Seven...

She kept her eyes closed, measuring each breathe as it filled her lungs. She paced them as evenly as she could. Clinging to the control of the action.

The pain was another focus that she found herself grateful for. Anything, anything at all, was better than the walls that were closing in on her.

They had freed her hands at some point after they had drugged her. The pain in her arms was almost unbearable. She kept them at her sides, slightly tucked under her weight. It felt more natural than pulling them in front of her, and the pain was dulled when her arms were back. Her shoulders burned in the agony, though.

Her clothing had been changed as well, something she was also trying very hard not to think about.

They were in a hurry, she reminded herself, they wouldn't have, couldn't have...

But they had changed her outfit. Her entire outfit. She was clean, too. And she couldn't help but feel ashamed of the relief that she also felt with this detail. Because the air was clear, and she was dry. No blood, no excrement, no water seeping at her. The cuts were still present, but she had not been freshly wounded while she was unconscious. The clean fabric brushed against each individual cut whenever she shifted her position.

She had no idea how long she'd been here. But the air hadn't gone stale yet, and it certainly wasn't as thin as she remembered from the latter hours of her last experience underground. Not that she could be sure she was even underground.

She had awoken here, trapped, with no idea where she was or how she'd been transported. She had not been conscious for any burial, so she had no way of knowing if there was dirt above her or not. Pounding on the lid and shouting till her voice was hoarse had done nothing but make her arms ache until she had thought she would surely pass out. Which might have been a better idea, upon reflection. It would cost her less air, and save her from panicking.

Swallowing harshly, she opened her eyes in the blackness and tried to pretend that there was open space in front of her. Just lying on your bed at home. No... at Booth's place.

She breathed in a slow breath through her nose. His apartment had a distinct scent to it. Something uniquely his. She conjured it up in her memory. Allowed a smile to grace her lips.

Yes, you're at Booth's place. He's making breakfast... everything is okay.

Her hand brushed against the inside wall of the casket. She sucked in a sharp breath, reality snapping into place unexpectedly.

Her heart pounded in her chest.

Please. Please get me out of here. I need to get back... I need to get back to my son. I need to get back to Booth.

But no matter how much she tried to convince herself that Booth was coming, she had to accept that his odds of finding her were slim. This was where she was going to die. This time, she wasn't going to be as lucky. There was no airbag here, no battery acid, no spare tire, no cell phone.

And no tools to use to write a farewell note.

I think these chapters might count as cliffhangers, so I apologize for that. I know the pain; I'm a reader as well as a writer on here. If you are wondering why I'm so horrible and make you wait a whole week for the next chapter... it is because if I stray from my schedule than I will end up doing what I did with my first stories, such as What She's Been Through and What Brings Them Together. A month between updates was not acceptable standards for me to have. So... I apologize for the weekly updates if they seem slow, but it's the only way I keep my sanity.

Thanks again to everyone who has read and reviewed; I'm so glad this story has caught the interest of so many of you. Drop me a line and let me know your thoughts on this latest update!