Temperance opened her eyes. Looking around, she could see it was full daylight now. She looked towards her clock. '9:07' Seeley still lay quietly in her arms. As gently and quietly as she could, she extricated herself from his embrace. Standing next to the bed, looking down at him, she thought how silly he was thinking she would somehow think less of him for what he had done. Even though he couldn't, or wouldn't admit it to himself, he had not been responsible for the deaths of Jon's family so long ago. Sam Cullen had told her she had not been responsible for Pam shooting Seeley. Even though he had stood up to shield her from Pam's bullet, she was not responsible. Pam was. The same was true for Seeley. Those gang members were the ones responsible. Not him. Now if she could just figure out a way to convince him. She softly padded to the door and quietly exited the room, softly closing the door on her way out.

Once in her living room, she plugged her landline phone back in. Picking up the receiver, she hit speed dial #2 and waited for the connection. At the sound of the connection, a woman's voice came over the line, "Jeffersonian Institute, Doctor Saroyan speaking."

Temperance said in a low voice, "Hello Cam? It's Temperance."

Cam's voice lightened with relief, "Dr Brennan? Thank God! Is everything okay? We've been trying to contact you."

Confused, Temperance said, "Everything's fine here. Is everything all right there?"

"Yes…it's just that nobody had heard from you or Booth and we couldn't get an answer on either of your cell phones or home phones."

"Booth is here with me," Temperance started, "He was having some…problems last night and I thought it would be better if I stayed with him."

"He's okay, though?"

The door to her bedroom opened. Temperance's and Seeley's eyes met. "I think he's all right for now." Seeley moved into her bathroom and closed the door. "I'd like to stay with him a bit longer today, if that's all right."

Cam responded, "Take as much time as you need. Oh…Jon has been trying to reach you also. You might want to give him a call. I think it concerns the case."

"Okay, Cam," Temperance said. "Thanks for everything."

"No problem." The two ended the call. Temperance could hear running water in the bathroom. She dialed Jon's cell phone by memory.

"Jon Smith," came the voice on the other end.

"Hi Jon, it's Temperance."

"Hi Temperance! Did everything work its way out last night?"

"I think we got a lot accomplished. There still may be more work to get done." She responded.

"Good…don't let him try to obfuscate," Jon said.

She smiled, "Yes sir…Cam said you had something about the case?"

"Yes…Chaz found out that all three of the victims had been seen at the same shelter in the past month and a half. We sent some people down there to question the staff and we got some leads." Temperance heard Seeley exit the bathroom. He appeared from the hallway and moved towards her kitchen. 'Is he embarrassed?' she thought. Jon continued, "I'm going to follow up on some of them today. If you're going to stay home with Seeley, I can handle this by myself and some of my special friends."

Seeley got two glasses from her cupboard. He filled them both about halfway with water from Temperance's refrigerator. "That would be fine," Temperance turned her attention back to the phone. "I'll talk to you later about it." Then, just before he hung up she said, "Jon? Thank you."

She could hear his embarrassment, "I'd do it again, you know."

She smiled, "Yes," and then hung up. She looked at Seeley. He walked over to her and offered one of the glasses. "How do you feel?" she asked. And then, "Thanks," as she took a drink of the water.

Seeley smiled, "Better…not 100 per cent, but better."

Temperance nodded, "It may take awhile, but we can get you there. Don't you think?"

Seeley nodded. He reached down and took her hand, pulling her up to stand. He started walking towards Temperance's bedroom. She said, "Wait." He turned to her. She let his hand go and turned to her phone. After she unplugged it, she turned to him and placed her hand back in his, allowing him to lead her. He didn't see her smile as she tagged along with him into her room.

"I was in Landstuhl for about two weeks and then they shipped me to Walter Reed. They gave me a plate for my front teeth. I didn't get the implants until I was out of the Army and working for the Bureau. It was tough, healing up from that. Doing PT every day. Unable to even put weight on my feet until three months had passed. And then, doing aerobic exercise was painful. It still is. That's why I was outside running the other day. I just wanted to get it over with. The worst part was I never saw Jon again until he was out of the Army. After taking care of the arrangements for Catherine and the girls, they kept him overseas. I guess out of easy access to the media. He would send me letters. Encouraging me. Pushing me to continue my studies, even while I was rehabbing. And it kind of made sense. I mean, after all, what else was I going to do when I wasn't doing PT? I found out later that they had forced him out. They busted him down to private, and then 'suggested' he put in retirement papers. He had over 20 years in, so that's what he did. But he made a deal with them. He promised he wouldn't go to the press if they left Jim and Bob alone. They could justify it as they were following orders. Even then, he was looking out for his friends. You know, he should have gotten the DSC for coming to get me. But because it happened on the wrong side of a line on a map, he was disgraced."

"I never told him I was sorry for what happened to Catherine and the girls. I wanted to tell him in person, you know? They wouldn't even let him come up to the hospital to see me when they were separating him. He had to wait until he was completely out of the Army and then came up just like any other civilian visitor. He came up, and I completely broke down. Kind of like last night. He told me he didn't blame me. And I guess he still doesn't. But I…I still can't help thinking about it."

"Once I was back in shape, I was sent back to my unit. We never did find out what happened to Mark. I think then is when I started to really close myself off. I didn't care what the mission was. Didn't think about who the target was. I just wanted to get in, do the job, and then get out. You know how my file says I've got over 50 registered kills? There's something about that number that most people don't think about. That's just the number of targets successfully killed. That doesn't include any other people it was necessary to eliminate either on the way in or back out. I used to keep track. You know? A total number of people killed. Just before my last mission in Kosovo…the one I told you about? I realized I didn't know how many there were. I knew at one time it was above 75. But then, I just lost track. And then that mess in Kosovo, with the little boy. I just couldn't do it anymore. My dad had killed from long distance. Without the victims knowing who he was…seeing his eyes. It destroyed him. I finally realized it was doing the same to me."

"I came back and told them I wasn't going to do it anymore. They tried to force me to go out, but I stood my ground. They could kick me out if they wanted. By that time, I had gotten my Bachelor's. I had already accomplished what I had set out to do. Word got out that I had lost my nerve.. Buddies who would talk to me, laugh with me, drink with me…all of a sudden I was a pariah. An outcast. I didn't care. In my mind, I was a monster. Over 75 people killed. Maybe a lot more. I didn't deserve to be happy. You know, I was an altar boy, growing up in Philadelphia. Killing was a mortal sin. Added to that, I had committed two of the deadly sins. I was Greedy when I gambled, and I was guilty of Pride when I strove to be the best sniper in the Army. I was going to hell. The only question was when."

"Then I was cut loose. The Army discharged me. Unlike Jon, I got to keep my rank and medals and all those flourishes. Just kind of wandered aimlessly for awhile. I had a pretty good bank account then. The Army had paid for everything…meals, housing. They gave me bonuses to reenlist…prior to my mini-rebellion. All that money went into a bank account."

"Jon and I had kept in touch by letters and a few phone calls here and there. By then he had made it to Special Agent. He suggested I come work for the Bureau. I just saw it as another arm of the Government. I didn't want any part of it. So, I was just kind of beginning to spiral down. Although I didn't know it at the time. I fell into a bad crowd. Drinking , gambling, no drugs though. I don't know how I missed that one. The thing about having drinking buddies, especially when you've got money, is they're only your buddies when you're drinking and buying the drinks. If you're broke, they're nowhere around…to buy you drinks. I ended up in Vegas. A broke, drunk gambler. So now we get to add Sloth to the list. I owed the wrong kind of people a sum of money it would take me a year to pay off. Even now."

"The next thing I know, I'm being picked up by the Las Vegas FBI Field Office. I'm in a cell. No idea why I'm there. And take a guess who walks in? He didn't say a word. I saw the disappointment in his eyes and that was it. I just started bawling. Just like I was back in that shanty with broken teeth and broken feet. All he did was put his hand on the back of my head, like you do, and whispered to me, 'I can help you…we can make this right.' I don't know if God had sent him, and even if he had, I don't know why. But that was the turning point in my life. With a few well-placed words from the agents, and Jon, my debts were cancelled. He brought me back to DC and got me right. He took me to my first GA, Gambler's Anonymous meeting. Sometimes we would go to our meetings at the same time. He'd be in one meeting, and I'd be down the hall in mine. That's when I found out he's an alcoholic. I've seen him drink, but usually only one. And then it's right back to club soda. That's why I walk around with a poker chip and one of a set of dice in my pocket. To always remind me how close I came to throwing everything away."

"I already had a degree in Criminal Justice, and a minor in Philosophy. Don't ask, I think I was trying to reconcile what I was doing in the Army with everything else I had been taught…from the Army, to the church, to my parents. But Jon suggested again a career in the FBI. I looked into it, and found my calling. Most of the people I met were regular, stand-up men and women. They just happened to have a need to protect others. They loved the country, wanted to make sure its people were protected, and wanted them to be able to pursue their own 'American Dream' with no judgments about what that dream was. As long as it was legal. This was what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. Maybe make amends for all the things I did wrong. I applied and was accepted. He says differently, but I think Jon may have had more than a hand in it. Went through training and was assigned to Jon's team on graduation. He looked so proud at my graduation. He was dating Cynthia at the time and she was there too. I didn't do it for him, but it sure was a nice benefit on top of it all."

"He asked me to be his best man at his wedding. Let me tell you, it took quite a bit of creativity to come up with a fun, non-alcoholic bachelor party. He didn't want strippers or anything like that. I agree with him. If you're marrying somebody you love, why would you want to mess around with hookers and strippers? So we went sky diving and bungee jumping instead. You know? Take the plunge? Well, I thought it was original. She's where his money comes from. I don't know how exactly it happened. How they got together. I think he stopped and helped her when she had a flat tire. He had to show his FBI credentials before she would roll down her window to talk to him. I guess she remembered his name and tracked him down. I remember he had a lot of guilt when they first started dating. Like he was cheating on Catherine. But he learned that people's hearts don't have a set 'Fill to this line' capacity for Love. They can constantly grow. Did he tell you she was pregnant when she was killed? He was finally going to have a son. Shortly after the accident, he was deactivated. He decided to move down to Florida, get a couple of boats and go into the charter business. I was going to transfer down there, but he wouldn't let me. He told me it would be better for my career, higher visibility, if I stayed in DC. He was right, shortly afterwards I was made a Special Agent. We kept in contact. Birthdays, holidays. I've always worried about him being alone. He hasn't had a serious relationship since Cynthia. I hope this thing with Cricket works out. He's always telling me that life is to be savored. But you have to live it with a certain amount of moderation. Too much of anything, even water, can kill you."

"I met Rebecca through a mutual friend. He thought we would hit it off. She was still in grad school. I had just made Special Agent status. She was funny…pretty…smart…independent…low maintenance. I'm sorry; does it bother you if I talk about her? She had a lot of the same qualities you have. But like I said, she was low maintenance. Ow! That hurt! When we found out she was pregnant, I was scared. I didn't know what kind of father I'd be. I mean, what could I teach a child? How to put a round through somebody's heart at 1,000 yards? Of course, I proposed to her. At the time, I thought I loved her. I thought it would be the best thing for the child. We didn't know it was going to be a boy at that time. But she said no. So, now here we are. I don't really have any legal standing if she decides to move away. I'd lose whatever relationship I have with Parker. I've been lucky so far. She hasn't met anybody who had a job that would take her away. Brett might be the guy, though. If the Coast Guard decides to move him to another station, I don't know if she would stay here or go with him."

"And now, Jon's back. At least for a little while. I needed him here. Just like I need you. He's my rock. He taught me I needed to live my life with moderation and not get too high or too low."

"Heh…I just thought of something. You know what's another word for moderation?"

"'Temperance'"