(The Glowing Bones in the Old Stone House)

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I don't own Bones.

Oooooooooooooooooo

Booth and Brennan were investigating the death of Carly Victor and they had decided to start with her husband at Carly's restaurant, Carly's Table on Calvert Street. When they arrived, they found the place to be very busy and filled with happy patrons. While they talked to the reservationist, Booth noticed someone get up from a nearby table and walk over. "Hey Petro, what are you doing here? I mean it's really hard to get a reservation here. I know, I've tried."

Placing his left hand on Booth's shoulder, Petro shook the agent's hand. "I made this reservation about two months ago. There was a last minute cancellation and they gave it to me." Petro smiled at Brennan. "Dr. Brennan, I have read your latest book and I loved it. Of course, the victims being tied up in red tape was very appropriate for bureaucrats. I of course do not approve of murdering bureaucrats, but still, it was very amusing and your story was quite intriguing.

"Thank you." Brennan had met Petro at a crime scene earlier in the year and she remembered that he had helped with the case. "It seemed a logical thing for the murderer to do."

"Yes, I agree." Petro listened to Booth talking to the reservationist and realized that he was there on a case. "Um, there is something wrong?"

Booth turned to look at his friend. "Yeah, there is. My partner and I have to talk to the Carly's husband. Nice seeing you again."

Curious, Petro watched Booth and Brennan walk towards the kitchen and wished he could join them. Being Security Chief at the Ukrainian Embassy was a boring job sometimes. At least it was when Russians weren't trying to implicate Ukrainians in murder.

Ooooooooooooooooooo

It didn't take more than a few days to find out that Carly had been murdered by her best friend, Abby Singer. Carly had had an affair with Abby's husband and Abby had killed Carly because of it. The case had been depressing as far as Booth was concerned. A young woman was dead, her best friend would spend the rest of her life in jail and their husbands had to live with the repercussions. "I really hated this case." Booth sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed his leg where the scar caused by being burned with a hot screwdriver was itching. He was still recovering from his injuries, but he was growing impatient. His ribs were still healing and that meant he couldn't exercise like he wanted to. "How long before my ribs are healed?"

"Three more weeks." Brennan removed her jewelry and placed it in her jewelry box. "You can't exercise for three more weeks."

"I wasn't going to." Booth sighed. "No one has seen Max since he helped you find me. I don't know if he's in the area or not, but if he knows what's good for him, he went back home, wherever home is."

Removing some pajamas from her dresser, Brennan turned to face Booth. "I'm sure he realizes that if he returns he will be arrested and tried for murder." She dreaded the idea of her father being tried since there was ample evidence to prove that he had killed Deputy Director Kirby and he would be convicted. "He's stayed away for fifteen years. I am sure he will stay away for another fifteen years. He doesn't need me in his life now that Russ is with him."

He could hear the sadness in her voice and Booth only felt bad for his lover. "Bones, I think he does love you. He left the dolphin and the letter and . . . well, he risked a lot to come back and do that. I think he wants to be a part of your life, but he's not sure how to do it. If he shows up again, I will arrest him. It's my job."

"I know." Brennan sat on the bed next to her partner. "He said he wants to talk about my mother. He could tell me what really happened to her . . . I find myself torn. I would like to talk to Max, but I know he is a murderer and he needs to go to prison for what he did, so I wish he would stay away. It is very confusing."

His arm around her shoulders, Booth leaned his head against her head. "Yeah, but we don't have control over what Max does. The guy comes and goes as he pleases. He committed a serious crime, so I can see where you're confused. The whole situation with your father is a mess. We'll just have to wait and see if he's stupid enough to come back here again. He's already pushed his luck twice. He won't be lucky a third time."

Oooooooooooooooooo

Max was feeling guilty about leaving his daughter behind again, but he was realistic enough to know that she couldn't have come with him when he fled with Russ. She worked with the FBI to solve murders which meant she wasn't about to follow in the Keenan footsteps. He and his wife had been good at what they did, but it had been dangerous work and he hadn't wanted his children to work outside the law. He had hoped they would both succeed in life and not have to jeopardize their freedom doing things that the law didn't approve of.

Russ had been a disappointment, but the boy was weak. Max had hoped he would be a leader, but he was actually a follower and he had followed the wrong people right into chop shops and auto theft. Tempe had surprised him and turned out to be a leader and she had found a profession that she could love and could excel in. He had known she was brilliant, but a forensic anthropologist? It made him so proud that she was such an important person in the scientific world and she had done it with no help from him or anyone else.

Once he got Russ settled in Coos Bay working in an auto shop for a friend of his, Max had returned to the DC area and tried to contact his daughter. Much to his annoyance, she had called her partner to try to get him arrested. He knew that she lived in a black and white world and since he was wanted for murder she felt the need for him to be arrested. It limited his ability to talk to Temperance, but he decided to keep an eye on the situation. He hoped that by helping rescue Booth, he might have earned some Brownie points with his daughter, but he wasn't counting on it. He'd find a way to talk to her, he just needed to be patient.

Oooooooooooooooooo

"I'm glad you could come by." Gordon Wyatt stood by his desk and pointed at the chair across from the small couch. "Please be seated."

Annoyed, Booth stood next to the chair and decided to be blunt. "I was ordered to come see you by my boss. What do you want this time?"

Ignoring the agent's anger, Gordon sat down on the couch and looked at the agent. "You were recently kidnapped and tortured, Agent Booth. I merely want to talk to you and see how you're doing?"

Since he couldn't stop the interview, Booth sat down facing the psychologist. "I'm fine. Those two idiots didn't know what the hell they were doing."

"They beat you, slapped you, kicked you breaking some ribs and they used a hot screwdriver on your leg." Gordon wasn't sure if the agent was using bravado or not, but torture was torture. "You were tortured Agent Booth."

"Let me explain what torture is, Doc." Booth removed his dice from his pants pocket and held them in his hand. "Torture is tying someone to a chair and beating the shit out of that someone until they pass out, then pouring water on them to force them awake and then starting the process again. It's dumping the person in the chair on his back, removing his shoes and beating the soles of his feet with a rubber hose breaking a bunch of bones in the guy's feet. It's breaking the guy's leg with a steel rod because he still won't tell you what you want to know. It's dumping him into a cell without water and medical aide and letting him suffer in the dark . . . that's torture, Doc. Those two clowns were just annoying."

As he sat quietly thinking about what the agent had said, Gordon realized that Booth's perspective probably had merit. "They did break your ribs."

Shrugging his shoulders, Booth moved the dice in his hand using them as way to focus his thoughts. "I've had broken ribs before . . . Listen Doc, what Melvin Gallagher and his stooge did to me wasn't great and it did hurt, I'll admit that, but it doesn't rank in the top ten for the awful things that have happened to me in my life. I'm not having dreams about it and the only time I think about it is when I do something and my ribs say I shouldn't. Once my ribs are healed I won't think about those clowns at all."

"I see." Gordon continued to stare at the Agent and knew that Booth was probably being truthful about the situation. "You were victimized by your father as a child and you were a POW during the Iraq War. I suppose you do have a different perspective than say someone that had never gone through those things . . . How is Dr. Brennan doing? She was the one who rescued you."

The topic had changed and Booth placed his dice in his pants pocket. "She's doing pretty good . . . great even. I knew she'd rescue me, it was just a matter of time. I knew that if I kept my mouth shut and I didn't tell Gallagher anything about Kennedy, Bones would get to me in time and she did."

"You have a lot of faith in Dr. Brennan." Gordon found the agent fascinating. Booth was a seasoned soldier who had done things his country had asked him to do that was still a secret locked away in his Army records. Very few people knew what Booth had done in the past for the government, but it marked the agent as someone to be taken seriously, someone not to be under estimated and someone the Army and the FBI valued. Gordon found the man's personnel file to be fascinating because of the things it didn't say as well as what it did say.

His confidence in his partner had strengthened over the years and he knew that she was someone that he needed on his side. "She's a genius. I knew she'd figure out where I was." And if she hadn't, he probably would have died, but he had trusted her to save him and she had. "I've seen her solve cases using just a few old bone bits and some hair. She's my partner and I knew she wouldn't give up looking for me. Not Bones."

"And if she hadn't found you?" Curious, Gordon watched Booth smile and shrug his shoulders.

"Then I'd be dead now, but Gallagher wouldn't have got the information he wanted." Pragmatically, Booth knew that someday he might get himself into a situation that no one could save him from, but for now, he wasn't going to worry about something that might not happen. "We all die, Doc. Some sooner that others." Glancing at his watch, Booth wondered how much more time he was going to have to waste. "Look, I'm not having any problems because of the kidnapping. I'm fine. Bones is fine. I have work to do and I can't do it sitting here."

Amused, Gordon smiled at the impatience being showed by the Agent. "Deputy Director Bishop asked me to talk to you and I have. You do seem to be alright and that is good Agent Booth. I will ask that you come to me if you do have any problems in the future."

Booth stood up. "You know, I've been shot, stabbed, beat with hoses and beat with a steel rod. Gallagher and Lightner think they're tough shit, but they're amateurs. Yeah, they hurt me, but it wasn't anything I couldn't take. Lightner is in the hospital because he fell on his screwdriver and Gallagher is in prison waiting trial. Those two don't worry me at all."

"Alright, I believe you." Gordon stood up and smiled. "But I am here if you need to talk to me about anything else. It doesn't have to be about this or about Dr. Brennan's shooting of Epps. If you want to talk about your childhood or about being a prisoner of war, I am here to listen."

Walking over to the door, Booth waved his hand. "That's the past, Doc. I live in the present."

Once Booth was gone, Gordon made a few notes in the agents file and emailed the Deputy Director about his interview with Booth. His agent appeared to be fine and was not having problems stemming from his kidnapping by Gallagher. He wished he could talk to Booth about some of his past experiences, but the man didn't want to cooperate and he couldn't force him to do it.

"Oh well, maybe someday."

Oooooooooooooooooooooo

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