Author's Note: Ok, next chapter. Not as fast as I would have liked, but faster than it has been here of late.

I do not own Bones or any of its characters. But we all knew that, right? ;)

Thank you to everyone who is reading/following/reviewing this.

Buttercups3: Hopefully this will brighten your day a little. :D And yes, as the last chapter pointed out, sometimes things do not move smoothly between the Sweets, but the warm tone that you noted shows where things will end up. ;)

Lives in the now: Well I was able to update faster this time which I'm hoping will be the norm now. :D Enjoy some more time in Sweets' past...

Mendenbar: Once again you have noted a point that I've tried to weave into the plot of this story. :) Yes, much like Booth, David wants things to be far more ideal than they often can be, and he will continue to try his best to make things "better" for Carolyn and Lance. But as you pointed out, it doesn't always work out perfectly. And I agree that it was important for Lance to make this decision on his own as part of his growing up process. What he will find out on this journey is another matter...

Fatewalker: Yes, right now he's 18 and in the first episode we see him in, he mentions to Booth that he's 22. But this will end before that point. I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Sweetfavoritethings: Thank you! :D I did try to pull in as much as I could that is learned on the show about Sweets' past. And like you, I'm going to miss this fic when it's done...But I am toying with the idea of doing another fic to "supplement" it, so to speak...we'll see...

TimeWitch93: Thanks again for the review. :) You're right that by this point, Lance is starting to become the therapist we all know and love from Bones. As for the older woman...that will be the second half of Year Thirteen...first this storyline.

Cobalt6233: Thanks for the review as usual. :) I hope you enjoy this chapter as well.

Fear Herself: No problem on the review. :D I hope to see more from you soon. Thanks again.

Fearlee: And here's another update. :) We will have to see if Lance is going to be satisfied by the end of this or not...as for David and Carolyn, well...remember that I try to always follow canon. They will be around for a while longer, but it is getting closer to the end of this story...

Dukefan1982: I totally get that. I know that I'm ecstatic over classes ending myself. And as I keep saying, we will have to see how this trip turns out...

Blueeyesmilby: Thank you! :D I'm glad you enjoyed this so far (even if it was quite a marathon to catch up to this point). I hope you will enjoy the rest of this story as well.

Peanutmeg: As always, thank you for all the reviews. :) I hope you enjoy this chapter too.

Year Thirteen—Discovery—part 2

Two days later, Lance was driving a rental car down the interstate in Florida. He had flown down from New York and picked up this beat-up vehicle at a place a few miles from the airport. As he drove, he winced at how much just the plane tickets and the car were costing him.

'Sorry Dad…looks like I may have to spend a night or two in my car after all,' he thought to himself.

Lance frowned when he thought of David. He hated it when things were tense between him and his father, but he knew that it would work out soon. Lance found it impossible to ever stay angry at him, and he knew that David felt the same way about him. Still, it did give him a slight pang in his heart when he thought about it.

He decided instead to go over the directions and schedules that he had been given while also turning his attention to the road. Terry had given him all of the information she had on Lillian from when she tracked her down for Lance's custody hearing. He then took what he knew to a couple of friends of his from college who were good at finding people and who owed him some favors.

They were eventually able to find out that Lillian was still living in Florida and was still working various circus and fair circuits in the area. Although details on her life were almost nonexistent, Lance's friends were able to give him a short list of circuses that she would most likely be working for right now along with their travel schedules and directions to find them. After working out the routes he would need to take on some road maps he had purchased at a gas station, Lance took off for the road.

After driving for almost four hours, Lance finally arrived at the first circus on his list. He parked the car, bought a ticket and began to walk the grounds. It was almost afternoon by this point and the Florida sun beat down on him with oppressive heat. The air was heavy and dank and filled with candy and hot-dog smells. Circus folk walked around him, not looking at him or acknowledging his presence. He weaved through crowds of over-heated parents with excited children and teenagers, who were looking for a perverse thrill.

Lance spotted a group of workers gathered in front of two men, who seemed to be giving orders to everyone else. Figuring that they were in charge, Lance walked over and waited for the rest of them to disperse before approaching them.

"Um...Hello," he said as he moved closer. "My name is Lance Sweets, and I was wondering if I could speak to someone in charge." The two men started at him for a moment before the shorter stouter man jerked a thumb in the other man's direction.

"Zeke here runs things," the man said. "What are you? Some kind of junior salesman?"

Lance swallowed hard while considering his attire. He had worn a dress shirt and slacks along with a tie. He had wanted to look nice in case he ran into his birth mother, but more importantly he wanted to look professional. Not like some sort of wayward teenager.

But as he watched these two carnies eye him warily, he wondered if maybe he should have gone even more casual.

"No, I'm looking for someone," Lance answered, doing his best to remove all traces of hesitation or nervousness from his voice. "Her name is Lillian Place. I believe she is working as a fortuneteller under the name 'Mystic Lil' these days."

"And what is she to you?" Zeke said his expression unreadable.

"She…I was adopted about twelve years ago," Lance continued. "Ms Place…Lillian…she is my birth mother." Zeke nodded slightly, but otherwise seemed unfazed.

"And why are you looking for her?" he asked. Lance blinked hard at the question. When he had made the decision to find his biological mother, it made perfect sense to him. But with each person who asked him why he was doing it, he lost a little more of his confidence in the validity of his quest.

"I haven't seen her since I was very little, and I don't remember her," Lance finally answered. "I would like the chance to get to know her."

"Don't you think that maybe there's a reason why you don't know her?" Zeke drawled. "Like that maybe you're better off with the people who took you in?"

"Maybe," Lance said, meeting his stare. "But I'd like a chance to determine that myself." The two carnies looked at each other for a moment, and Lance could feel himself sweating. It was not just from the sticky heat that surrounded him either.

Suddenly the two of them began to chuckle, and Zeke regarded Lance with a crooked grin.

"Well kid…you've got balls at the very least," he said. "Tell you what…feel free to wander around and ask anyone about Lil. I can't guarantee though that you'll find out anything, but go ahead and try."

"Thank you," Lance said, smiling back. "I don't suppose there's anything you can tell me?" The other man walked away, and Zeke moved closer to Lance. His face became solemn.

"Kid, what I can tell you is this: as soon as you said that you were Lil's son, I knew that you were telling the truth. You look so much like her, you could be her twin. But son, Lil is….not the mothering type." Zeke then shuffled back and forth for a bit before continuing.

"I know she's had a hard life…and that maybe deep down, she's got a decent heart. But kid, the kindest thing she probably did was let you go."

"Do you know where she is?" Lance asked, undeterred. The man sighed and shook his head.

"Nope, I don't," he responded. "Haven't seen her in years. But I know that she gets around almost everywhere, so if you talk to enough people, you're bound to find someone who will know something."

"Well thank you for your help," Lance said, holding out his hand. Zeke hesitated, but then grabbed it and gave it a firm shake.

"I don't know if you should thank me kid, but take care of yourself anyway."


Lance spent the next three and a half hours wandering around looking for people to talk to. The sun continued to generate a miserable swelter, but he pushed onward. He used Zeke's name whenever he approached someone, but all that seemed to gain him was a chance to ask a couple questions before they would walk away without telling him a thing.

After a little while longer, Lance discovered that he was extremely weary due to a combination of heat, walking and frustration. He collapsed onto a wooden bench and stared at the ground which was dirty with bits of popcorn and sawdust that had clumped together in the damp air.

"Hey kid…you aren't going to pass out are ya?"

Lance looked up to see a craggy-faced man standing next to him. He wore a plain, dirty tee-shirt and baggy pants. Lance could see traces of greasepaint around the edges of his face, and he guessed that he was a clown.

"No, I'm all right," Lance lied. The truth was that his tongue felt thick and dry in his mouth, and he was starting to feel lightheaded. The man nodded and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Right…sure you are," he sneered. "That's why you look like you're about to pitch forward onto the ground." Lance couldn't think of anything to say to that so he went back to looking downward. The man tugged at Lance's shirt.

"Come on. I know a place that's cooler where I can get you something to drink."


A few minutes later, Lance and the clown were sitting under an open-faced tent. The shade certainly helped to cut down on the heat as did the huge cup of lemonade that the man brought him. Lance ended up drinking half of it within a minute or two.

"Feeling better?" the clown asked, settling into a folding chair next to him.

"A little," Lance nodded. "Thank you, Mister…?"

"Folks call me Rotundo," the man said. "So just call me that." Lance raised an eyebrow at this. While he was sure that 'Rotundo' was a stage name, the clown's rail-thin frame matched his own. But he decided to not argue the point.

"Yes, thank you, Rotundo," Lance said taking another gulp of lemonade.

"No problem," the clown said, leaning back. "I've been watching you mill around here on and off ever since I caught you talking to Zeke. Figured that you were wearing yourself out by now." He looked Lance over.

"Are you sure you're old enough to be wandering around by yourself?"

"I'm eighteen," Lance sighed. "I'm not a child."

"Yes you are," Rotundo said, tilting his head at him. "You look like you're pretty gutsy and smart, but you've got some more growing to do." Lance shook his head, but remained silent. He wasn't in the mood to argue about the relative meaning of a person's age.

"I hear you're looking for Mystic Lil…that you're her long-lost son," the clown added.

"Yes, do you know where I can find her?" Lance asked, eager.

"Sorry kid, I don't," Rotundo said, shaking his head. "I've made sure to avoid her and her crowd most of the time. Old Zeke got a little too close to her and well….that's all that needs to be said there."

Lance slumped down in his seat, defeated. He hated that he was making so little headway. He took in some more of the cool liquid in his cup before asking another question.

"Can I ask you something?"

"It depends," Rotundo said, pulling out a flask from his pocket and taking a sip.

"I heard some of the other workers talking about the possibility that they might have to 'wildcat' at some point," Lance said. "What did they mean by that?"

"That's circus talk," the clown nodded sagely. "Why do you want to know?"

"People interest me," Lance shrugged. "I've sort of made people my life's work."

"What? Are you studying to be a doctor or something?"

"Close. I'm a psychologist," Lance said, stretching his legs out in front of him. "I guess you could say that I'm already a doctor."

Rotundo stared at him for a few minutes silently, which made Lance nervous. The clown then leaned closer to him.

"Kid, there are two things that I'm good at in life: one is making people laugh and the other is spotting a phony…You, kid…it's hard to believe, but you are not a phony. I can see it." He then took another swig from his flask.

"I remember, years ago, Lil said that there were really smart people in her family. Geniuses even," he continued. "A cousin who was really good with computers. A distant aunt who was a writer. Things like that. Most of them are dead now. Lil herself was more street-smart than anything else, but it looks like you got some of those smart genes…So... I'll tell you what you want to know."

"About my birth mother," Lance inquired.

"No, about having to wildcat," Rotundo snorted. "That's when you have to change routes because of some unforeseen event, like bad weather."

"Oh," Lance nodded.

"Look kid, I really shouldn't be telling you this stuff 'cause you're not one of us," the clown said. "But…some of us owe Lil some favors and you seem like a good sort. So….if I tell you stuff, just don't go spreading it around, ok?"

"I won't," Lance promised.

Rotundo went on to explain all kinds of circus lingo that Lance had heard while walking around and even talked about some other phrases that Lance hadn't picked up on.

Then the conversation moved onto stories from the clown's life on the road. Lance suspected that many of these "memories" were actually tall tales, but Rotundo was an engaging storyteller so he didn't mind. After a couple of hours, Lance was refreshed and rested, but he also knew that he would probably get nothing else done today.

For his part, Rotundo did make a suggestion about which circus Lance should choose next in order to find some more people who knew Lillian better. He even recommended a motel a few miles away from his next destination that was cheap but clean.

"Trust me, it will look like a dump from the outside," the clown said. "But the owners are good people. You'll get a decent night's sleep there."

"Thanks again for everything," Lance said, rising to his feet. Rotundo stood up with him.

"No problem," he said. "But can I ask you something? You said you were adopted, right?"

"Yes," Lance said, pulling out his wallet. He took out a picture of David and Carolyn from about four years ago when he first started college. "This is my mom and dad."

"She's a beautiful woman," the clown mumbled while looking at the photo. "Not just pretty. I'll bet her husband feels lucky to have her."

Lance glanced at the picture himself before putting it back in his wallet and stuffing it in his pocket. He had often thought of his mother as a lovely woman even as her hair turned silver and lines formed on her face. But a piece of him wondered if that was because of the beautiful soul that he knew she possessed. It was rather gratifying to know that others could see Carolyn's full beauty as well.

"Kid…I can tell that that woman is the one who is actually your mother," Rotundo said somberly. "You may look nothing like her, but you are nothing like Lil either. Try to keep that in mind."

"I will," Lance said. Rotundo nodded and began to walk away, waving at him as he went.

"Good luck on your quest, kid…I hope you find what you're looking for."