Temperance Joy Booth did not consider herself to be one of those needy housewives she had always distained. She did not expect Seeley to cater to her every whim, nor did she need to know his whereabouts at any given time during the day. They were adults, not to mention the fact that she trusted him implicitly.

Which was why she had not in the least bit concerned when she had awakened to find that she was alone in their bed; nor did it concern her that- given the pervading silence throughout the house- that the downstairs level appeared to be unoccupied. Seeley had been extremely excited when the doctor had pronounced him healed enough to exercise and the most likely scenario to her was that he had going out on a morning run.

It was not until after she had finished her own morning routine and was feeding Sadie breakfast that she happened upon the note that he had left for her.

B-

Burke's at the warehouse. I'm at the Hoover.

Love you.

-B

Her first thought was there was not time given, leading her to wonder how long he had been gone. Her second thought- the one that made her ire begin to rise- was that he had deliberately left her behind for what appeared to be their biggest break in the case yet. And while Mrs. Booth may not have minded, Dr. Brennan was furious!

She had not acceded to marrying him only to be left at home to tend to Sadie, nor did she particularly like being- as Cam once put it "out of the loop" when it came to their cases. Not to mention the fact that he should've known better after so many years.

Without further hesitation, she had rushed Sadie through the rest of her breakfast, collected their belongings, sped off to confront her partner, and called the lab to let them know she would be at the Hoover Building until further notice. Calling the lab had only served to make her more displeased, however, as Angela and Cam seemed to already be aware of the situation. That displeasure only increased further after she had hurriedly dropped Sadie off at day care and had proceeded to Booth's office- only to find it empty with no hint that he had been there this morning.

Of course she had found him and he had explained the situation to her. It still had not assuaged her one hundred percent, but she was willing to concede that she could not have helped him in any way- though she still wished he would've woken her and allowed her to come to that conclusion on her own.

Her anger had fully dissipated, however, on watching him cling tightly to Sadie when they reached the day care. The last time she had seen him looking so relieved was just after he had discovered that Howard Epps had talked to Parker. She still did not have a clear picture of what had taken place that morning, but she now understood that whatever it was it had not been easy. This theory was only further supported when Booth, still holding Sadie close, had possessively put his arm around Temperance's waist and held her close as they exited the building. Without a word, she'd handed him her keys and allowed him to drive them to the diner in silence.

And thus she found herself, sitting at their regular booth, watching her husband and daughter consume food as if it had been days, not hours since their last meal, and wondering if he would tell her what had transpired to make him so upset any time soon.

"We need a plan," she said finally.

"Huh?" Seeley looked up at her, syrup dripping from the corner of his mouth as he swallowed the last of his French toast.

"A plan," she reiterated, "Surely as an ex-military man you can see the value of having one set in advance."

"Yes," he nodded slowly, "Plans are great, but I left my secret decoder ring at home this morning, so I don't have a clue what kind of plan you're talking about."

"One that would cover scenarios such as this morning's events," she said, not understanding why he was not following her train of thought, "And other work-related scenarios as well. This may have been the first time that an early-morning call required one or both of us to leave, but I doubt it will be the last."

"What'd you have in mind?" he asked, settling back in the seat and sipping at his coffee.

"Well," she began, "It would be wise of us to discuss our preferences when it comes to being informed in scenarios similar to what occurred this morning. Of course, you now know that I prefer to be awakened- regardless of how many hours of sleep I've had- right away so that I can process the situation and evaluate if my presence is necessary. Should the situation be reversed, it would be good for me to know in advance what your preferences are so that I can act accordingly.

"Too, if it is determined that both of us are required we would need an entirely different plan specifying into whose care we would place Sadie while we are away. I know that day care service only begins at the Jeffersonian at six in the morning and I am not certain how early the FBI's program opens. A private nanny is also another option for us to consider."

"Nope," Seeley's tone was decisive, "That might suit for Hodgins or someone like that but no way we're getting a nanny," he took Sadie out of the high chair and placed her onto the bench beside him, "But I will check into the Hoover's hours when we get back."

"Does this aversion to nannies have anything to do with your distain for the wealthy?" she asked, curious.

He shrugged, "Maybe, but really I just don't like the idea of nannies in general. I mean," he paused to ruffle his fingers through Sadie's hair, "If we can't be there for her, I'd rather have her be with other kids her age than be alone with an adult"

"Even if she could perhaps prosper from the one-on-one interaction?"

"I think she should grow up in the real world, Bones," he shook his head, "Not stuck at home with a nanny all the time."

"Certainly we could have one who would schedule outings and opportunities for her to interact with others in her peer group," she pointed out, then shook her head, "The focus of our conversation has shifted, however, and I still do not have your answer to my original question: Should I receive a call from the Jeffersonian requiring my presence for reasons outside of your FBI jurisdiction, should I wake you, or simply leave you a note as to my whereabouts?"

"Wake me up," he smiled easily, "Then I can kiss you goodbye."

"Considering how strong your libido is first thing in the morning," she said wryly, "I doubt that you would be content with a mere kiss; however, I will respect you wishes and will wake you accordingly."

"Bones," he was grinning now, "Have you ever been called out to the lab at four in the morning for something that didn't require FBI involvement?"

"No," she shook her head, "Why, do you regularly get calls that do not require the Jeffersonian's services?"

"More often than you'd think," he told her, "For the most part they toss me the stuff where we need you, but sometimes I have to cover for other agents, or I get put on special investigative cases. Not saying it happens all the time, but it does happen."

"Good to know," she nodded, "However, that leads us back to the conundrum of what to do with Sadie when both of us are required which, as you well know, happens quite often."

"We'll start by checking out the Hoover," he said, "Which we can do right now because we have a briefing to get to."

With practiced ease, he stood up, and took Sadie into his arms, then turned to offer Temperance his hand as well. She laid enough to cover their meal and the tip and accepted his hand as she stood to join him. He did not relinquish his hold on her and they walked hand-in-hand to the car.

Twenty minutes later, her understanding of the morning's events became much clearer as those involved gave their reports. Burke and his compatriots may indeed have been captured, but it had come at a cost. Three of the tactical team members had suffered gunshot wounds that required hospitalization, and one member had been killed when a stray bullet had severed his femoral artery. In contrast, five of Burke's men had been killed, and two others wounded in their attempt to guard the warehouse.

At one point, she felt Seeley stiffen beside her, his face contorting as he sought to contain his grief, as well as the anger she knew he must be feeling. Burke's operation had been more heavily armed than originally anticipated and while everything had been done to keep the men safe, it had not been enough and Seeley was taking it personally. Even Cullen's commendation for Seeley's decision-making and quick thinking abilities displayed in the command post had done little to soothe him.

Three hours after it had started, the briefing was over. No words were spoken as the couple left, nor did she question him as he moved purposefully, not toward his office, but toward the on-site firing range. He spoke succinctly to the man in charge, who nodded and handed them each a pair of hearing protection headgear.

Silently, she observed as he pulled his personal weapon from its holster and began emptying round after round into the paper targets provided, never failing to hit what he aimed for. It was an odd method of catharsis from her point of view, though she suspected that he felt the same way about her need to completely submerge herself in her work. Plus, she reminded herself when the violent rage played across his face, better a paper target than a living being- or an annoying ice cream truck.

As time passed, so did his anger, until finally he holstered the weapon and turned to face her. She had not moved from his side the entire time, in part to show her support and also to observe him closely and was startled when he suddenly was facing her, his arm reaching out to trap her against the shooting cage, his lips crashing down on hers.

There was nothing chaste about this kiss, nor did it lack passion by any stretch of the imagination. Raw emotions were conveyed as she was pressed back against the cage's wall, but before she had time to process anything, it was over. He pulled back, mopping his brow with the bottom portion of his t-shirt, and they left as quietly as they had arrived, returning to his office.

Papers had accumulated on his desk in his absence, but he brushed them aside as he sat down heavily in his chair, his chest still heaving from exertion. She handed him a bottle of water from the break room and he finished it in under a minute.

"Go home," Cullen's voice scythed through the silence as he materialized at the office door.

"But, Burke-" Seeley began to protest.

"Can cool his heels in the holding pen overnight," Cullen cut him off, "And the girls have been put up in a local safe house under guard for now so they can wait too."

"I need to inform the families-"

"No," Cullen shook his head, "You don't. I'm the Director."

"I was their CO," Seeley was on his feet now, stabbing a finger at his own chest, "I ordered them-"

"To do their duty, Agent Booth, and there was nothing you could have done to prevent what happened," Cullen's tone was even, but it was clear he was the one in charge, "Notifications fall under my purview, not yours. Go home, hug your little girl, get some sleep, and then come back tomorrow fresh and ready to go at this thing full force."

The two men stood glaring at each other for what seemed like an eternity, neither one willing to back down.

"Look, Booth," Cullen broke the stare-down, "I could easily have you pulled off the case since that man may very well have killed Sadie's mother, but if I'm gonna let you see this thing through to the end I need you to put some emotional distance between yourself and what went down today. You're no use to me if you're not in top form, understand?"

"Yes, Sir," Seeley answered crisply.

"Good," Cullen nodded, "Charlie's going to shadow you on this one through interrogation in case one of these pricks gets the bright idea to accuse you of being impartial. It's a strictly CYA assignment, though, so get 'em with everything you've got."

"I fully intend to, Sir," came the steely reply.

The two men shared another look and with one final, curt nod, Cullen took his leave.

"Seeley," she asked as they headed into the FBI parking garage with Sadie in tow, "What's a CYA assignment? Is that some kind of FBI, Black Ops thing?"

"Not quite, Bones," for the first time since the diner he broke into a genuine smile and laughed, "Not quite."