When I wake the next morning, I am alone. I turn over in bed to feel at the sheets where Booth sleeps. They are cold so he must have risen a while ago – if he even came to bed at all. There is an indentation in his pillow though like he has slept there but he is long gone now. Tears prick the back of my eyes. I hate fighting with Booth. We bicker a lot, but it is usually playful banter, and is never severe enough that we stop speaking to each other. When we fight, it invariably results in us not speaking until one of us backs down and apologises. We don't fight often and last night was certainly not the worst instance, but it is the first time we haven't made up before going to bed and I don't like it. I don't like waking up alone with the feeling that something isn't right. My stomach somersaults and I leap out of bed and dash for the bathroom. I sigh when I realise I need to get used to this as it is unlikely to go away any time soon. I remember the tests I purchased last night and shakily wander from the bedroom to retrieve them from my purse.

As I enter the open plan main living area, I expect to find Booth in the kitchen making pancakes. But like the bedroom, it is empty. The living room and kitchen are tidy and neat, not how I remember them last night. If Booth did sleep on the couch, he has removed the evidence. There aren't even any dishes in the sink making me think he hasn't even had breakfast. An uneasy feeling grips me. Have I managed to push him away? He said he would never leave me, but have I finally done something that he can't tolerate? As I turn to go and grab my purse from where I dropped it last night, I see a note on the counter. I pick it up to see Booth's familiar handwriting. It says, *Bones, got a breakfast meeting with Hacker x*

Relief washes through me. He might not be speaking to me, but he hasn't left me. A breakfast meeting explains the lack of dishes at least but I still don't know where he slept. I don't know why it is so important to me to know but for some reason it is. I grab the tests and my phone. I glance at the phone screen to see a missed call from Angela 20 minutes ago but nothing else. I turn on my heel and head for the bathroom with the tests. Ten minutes later I am staring at the three tests lined up neatly on the vanity in the bathroom. One has two blue lines, one has a positive symbol and the third – for the avoidance of doubt, I should imagine – simply says 'pregnant' on the little screen. That confirms it then. I'm pregnant. My heart rate increases as I think about how I need to tell Booth. Right now. I pick up my phone to call him but remember he is in the meeting with Hacker and won't answer. It probably would be preferable to tell him in person anyway. At least then I might be able to gauge his reaction if I can see his face. I glance at my phone again and see the time. I need to get ready for work. I hastily stash the tests in my bedside drawer – I don't want Booth to find them if he arrives home before me. I quickly get dressed and leave for the lab.

0-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-0

I am once again bent over the light table in the bone room examining William Burton's bones. I was clearly too exhausted last night to function properly as I have already discovered an irregularity in the bones that I didn't find yesterday. I have found evidence of an osteomyelitis infection in his right tibia. There is remodelling to the lesion so it is unlikely to be cause of death but still, it proves there may be evidence of cause of death that I missed yesterday.

I am re-examining the cervical vertebrae when Angela walks with purpose into the room. She marches right up to me and says "What gives, Sweetie. Why did I have Booth on the phone at some ungodly hour this morning asking – no- demanding that I keep my eye on you today. He says you're sick and he's worried. He thinks you're keeping something from him."

She's looking at me expectantly, but I don't know what to say. Booth has demonstrated his ability to read a situation, to read me, once again. "Booth is correct Angela." Is all I say.

"So, you didn't tell him? About, you know," She looks over her shoulder to the door then leans closer and whispers "the baby?"

"No, Angela. I wanted to take a test first to confirm it before telling him."

She nods then says, "I see, well just make sure you tell him soon ok?"

"I will Ange. When he's speaking to me again." I say in a matter of fact tone that doesn't match how I feel inside.

"What…? What do you mean when he's speaking to you again?" She splutters incredulously.

I put down Burton's C6 vertebra and reluctantly turn my eyes to Angela. "We had a fight when I got home last night."

Realisation dawns on her face. "Let me guess, he wasn't impressed about you not taking his calls and staying at the lab until midnight."

"No, not exactly. He was angry that I didn't call him back."

"That's the same thing Sweetie."

"I don't understand why he was so angry, Angela." Some of the despondency I am currently feeling seeps into my voice.

"Oh, Bren, this is Booth we're talking about. Don't you remember how he would get pissed at you for doing stuff like this before you were his girlfriend? Now that you are, it just intensifies it. I know you think he is trying to control you, but you know that he wouldn't do that. He does it because he cares about you and he wants to protect you because he loves you. It will be scaring him to death that he thinks you're sick."

What she is saying makes sense. Whenever I perceive that someone is trying to control me or my actions, my first instinct is always to fight it. I know that Booth wasn't trying to control me, he was worried about me just as I would have been had the situation been reversed. "I know, Angela."

"You know?" She sounds surprised.

"Yes. It was a stupid fight, Ange. I know that, and I know it was only his concern for my wellbeing that prompted his actions. I admit that I overreacted but so did he, so I do not see why I should be the one to apologise first."

Angela shakes her head "You're so stubborn! Honey, unless you're planning on leaving him and raising this baby alone, you're going to have to speak to him again at some point. Sooner rather than later, trust me."

Her words make my heart palpitate in anxiety. "Of course I'm not planning on leaving him. I love him, Angela."

Her stern expression melts into a soft smile "I know you do, Sweetie."

I turn back to the bones and pick up the C5 vertebra. I feel the bone with my fingers, and I think I can detect an irregularity. It is tiny but definitely there. I hold the bone under the MedioCam and I see the irregularity. It is miniscule but under the magnification it becomes clearer. It is a tiny puncture wound in the bone.

"Oh." I say surprised.

"What is it?" Angela says.

"I think it's a puncture wound in the bone. It needs swabbing for particulates." I place the bone onto a tray and march out of the bone room to find Hodgins. He is in his Ookey room.

"Dr Hodgins," I say as I enter.

"Hey, Dr B." He looks up from his work and I place the tray in front of him.

"There is a small puncture wound in the bone. Please swab it for particulates." I say, then turn and leave the room without waiting for a response.

0-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-0

An hour later, I am sitting at my desk replying to correspondence that has been neglected since we began our search for the Gravedigger's partner. My phone has stayed silent with no calls from Booth and I feel both concerned and upset. He must still be angry with me. I know I could call him, but I am unsure if he would welcome my call, so I don't.

I look up as Dr Hodgins strolls into my office and announces with a smug look on his face "Stainless steel consistent with a standard surgical needle and, get this, Propofol."

I blink as I process what he has just said "The puncture wound?"

He nods enthusiastically and says "Mm-hm"

I recall the placement of the puncture, and something doesn't seem right. I rise from my seat and rush to the bone room. I pick up the vertebra from where Hodgins has replaced it after swabbing. The puncture wound is in a lateral position on the vertebrae, but the angle of the entry point is wrong. Hodgins appears next to me and looks over my shoulder as I'm bent over the bones.

"I'm guessing that has some significance?" He asks.

I put down the vertebra and turn to face him "The angle of entry of the puncture mark is confusing. It is on his left side indicating that the injection was forcefully administered by a right-handed assailant. But look at the angle," I move the MedioCam to once again magnify the bone to demonstrate to Hodgins what I mean.

"Huh" he says, "The angle suggests the entry point was from the front."

"Exactly!" I say excitedly.

I turn to stand in front of him to demonstrate. "If you were to inject someone with enough force that you puncture the bone, you would expect it to come from the side, like this." I raise my hand and move it in a stabbing motion toward Hodgins' neck. To his credit he only flinches slightly at the motion of my hand. "However, the angle of entry suggests it was done like this" I grab him quickly and spin him round so his back is to my front. A small cry of surprise passes his lips as I forcefully wrap my left arm around his head, holding him in position and cross my right arm across his neck. I then move my right hand in a stabbing motion to demonstrate how I believe the needle had been stabbed into Burton's neck.

"Err, Doctor B…." Hodgins voice sounds strangled and I realise my right arm is wrapped around his neck. I release him and he rubs his neck and gasps for air. His face is a concerning red colour as he folds over and braces his hands on his knees. "So, you think he was injected forcefully from behind?" he chokes out.

"Yes. William Burton was approximately 178cm tall. For the attack to have occurred in the manner I just demonstrated, I estimate the assailant would have to have been at least 183cm tall."

"So, we're looking for a 6-foot-tall strong person."

"Yes, Burton's robust muscle attachment markers on the bones suggest he was well muscled and would have been strong. Whoever injected him would have been taller and at least equally as strong."

"Or was able to take him by surprise." Hodgins says. I nod in agreement and I am pleased to see the normal colour has returned to his face.

"Hey, Brennan?" Angela appears in the doorway and we both turn to look at her. "I think I've found something." She says and turns to head back to her office.

Hodgins and I follow and join her in front of the Angelatron.

"So, as you know, Booth asked me to look into Taffet and Burton's financials." I nod my head and she continues. "Taffet was clean. She did a good job of hiding the ransom money in overseas shell companies because I can't find any trace of the money, even in the alternative identity she created for herself. William Burton was also clean. The only unusual activity was approximately a month after his disappearance, somebody emptied his bank account. It was only a couple of thousand dollars, but I can't trace that either. I'm assuming it was Taffet and it disappeared into the shell company bank accounts, but I can't prove it."

I'm disappointed this is all Angela has. Booth was hoping the financials were going to be the key. "Is that all you've found, Angela?"

She looks a little affronted by my question and shakes her head. "You haven't let me get to the good part yet. So, after drawing a dead end with the bank stuff, I thought I'd do a bit of digging into their backgrounds. I know Booth has already done that but sometimes I can see things he can't."

"Meaning it's not entirely legal?" Hodgins asks disapprovingly.

"Hey! It's legal. Just." Angela retorts. "I didn't find anything on Heather Taffet we didn't already know. William Burton though, is interesting. Well, not him specifically but his twin sister. When I checked his birth record, I found his sister Lucille. I found her birth certificate along with William's. There were some records I found for him that I couldn't find for her though, which I thought was weird. The only things I managed to find for her were an old bank account in her name and a renter's agreement on an apartment. I also found paperwork to suggest that she was working as a nurse at a hospital in Maryland. Until about two months before William disappeared, all evidence of his sister disappears. Completely."

I shake my head and interject. "That is not correct, Angela. Burton's ex wife told us that she saw Lucille Burton just before he married Heather Taffet."

"I don't mean an official disappearance. There was no missing person's report ever filed as far as I can tell. But digitally, she's gone. Her social security number was erased, as was her drivers' licence along with every other record whoever did this could think of. I only managed to find her at all thanks to a kind of digital imprint left in the system. You can erase the current numbers, but you can't erase the actual origin of the numbers – there's a gap where there should be a record- and because they were twins, her records were consecutive to William's making it easier for me to find what I was looking for, or more specifically what I couldn't find. The hospital employee records had also been erased but I found evidence of her there from her name and signature on patient records. All trace of her disappeared in 1998. Now there is no evidence of her anywhere. No bank accounts, no bills, no rental agreements. Nothing. It's like on paper, she doesn't exist."

As Angela says the last few words, I suddenly feel like the room is receding into darkness and I am struggling to breathe. The nausea is back and it's nothing to do with being pregnant. Like pieces of a puzzle, it all clicks into place. Her words trigger a flashback to my dream when the Gravedigger's partner had me tied up in a basement. "She erased my identity to protect me, so if we ever got caught, there would be no evidence against me. I don't exist on paper anywhere."

"Oh my god." I whisper in horror.

"What Sweetie?" She turns away from her screen to look at me. I watch her face as she absorbs my expression. "Brennan, are you ok? You've gone white like you're going to pass out or something."

"It's her." I groan.

"What is Dr B?" I hear Hodgins ask from behind me.

"The Gravedigger's partner! It's her!" I had been wrong, so wrong. All this time, I had believed my dream. I had believed we were searching for a man. I was so blinded by my prediction that I failed to consider that her partner could have been a woman.

"The Gravedigger's what? Bren what are you talking about?" Ange asks in confusion.

Before I can answer her, Sweets appears in the office. "What's going on?" he asks as he takes in the conflicting combination of expressions on our faces.

I feel grateful to Angela as she deflects his question "What do you want, Sweets?" She says to him abruptly.

"Whoa, ok. What did I do?" he asks, looking hurt.

Angela shakes her head and says "Nothing, sorry. What do you need Sweets?"

"I'm looking for Agent Booth. He said he was coming over here like over an hour ago. He left me a message to say he needed me to meet him here, but I was with a patient so I've only just gotten the message."

"You're looking for Booth?" I repeat Sweets' words back to him in confusion.

"Yeah… What's going on guys?" Sweets now looks as confused as Angela and Hodgins.

Angela answers Sweets before I can "I've been looking into William Burton's background and I've dug up some information on his sister. Bren thinks the sister was Heather Taffet's partner."

I fight to keep my breathing under control as all eyes in the room turn to me.

Sweets says "Oh! Like a sexual partner…?"

Angela shrugs and says "Maybe, who knows. I think she means more like the professional kind though. You know, like her and Booth, before…"

"Oh, I see." Sweets says but then shakes his head. "No, I still don't get it. Heather Taffet didn't have a partner. We'd have known about it."

I know the time has come to explain myself. If we are going to catch Lucille Burton, then we need all of us working on it. We have proved that twice before with the Gravedigger. "Heather Taffet didn't have a professional partner, but the Gravedigger did."

I see Sweets' eyes widen and he seems to be shocked into silence.

"Booth and I have been investigating since Taffet was murdered the possibility that, as the Gravedigger, she didn't work alone. It was this investigation that led to the discovery of William Burton's remains and now the suspicion that his sister, Lucille Burton is the Gravedigger's partner."

"But, Dr Brennan, there was never any evidence of anyone else involved in the Gravedigger kidnappings. She – Heather Taffet- was it. What made you think she had a partner?" Sweets asks.

All eyes in the room are once again on me and my anxiety levels are rocketing. Here goes nothing I think before taking a deep breath and saying the words that I hoped I would never have to say again. "I dreamed about it when I was unconscious after my car accident last year. Booth thinks my unconscious brain had seen something, some evidence that suggested the existence of a partner. He thinks the dream was my brain's way of trying to communicate it to me."

I see Angela's eyes widen and understanding dawn on her face. She is the only person besides Booth that I told about the dream, only, I didn't tell her the parts about the Gravedigger's partner.

Sweets speaks again "Psychologically speaking, that is a possibility. It has been shown in studies that dreams are the way that our unconscious brains process information. But I don't understand why you, Dr Brennan, someone who unerringly bases her life on science, would believe this and go along with this investigation. Regardless of what Agent Booth thinks."

"Sweets…" Angela warns but I catch her eye and shake my head.

It would be easy for me to lie and say it is my faith in Booth that allowed me to go along with the investigation but I am tired of lying and I want the truth to be known, consequences be damned.

"I believe it because it wasn't the only event that occurred in that particular dream, and several other events from it have already happened."

Three mouths all drop open in astonishment as I feel my cheeks flame with embarrassment. Before anyone can ask me anything further however, Cam enters Angela's office.

"Oh!" She says in surprise when she sees us all stood in silence. "Why are we all in here?"

Angela is once again the quickest of us to recover and says, "I was just showing them what I have uncovered about William Burton."

"Oh, good." Cam says. "Booth will want to hear about that. Where is he, by the way? I've got a message to pass on from Assistant Director Hacker, Booth isn't answering his phone apparently and he says it's urgent. I assumed he would be here with Dr Brennan."

"He isn't here, Cam." I say sadly.

Sweets' brow furrows and he says, "Hang on, he told me he was coming here, and I had to meet him urgently. But none of you have seen him?"

We all look at each other in confusion as I process what Sweets and Cam have just said. Booth isn't answering his phone, not just to me but anyone, even Hacker. He was supposed to be here but isn't… A feeling of dread so thick it is almost palpable begins to bloom in my chest.

"Hang on," Sweets says before anyone else can speak. "He's got to be here! His SUV is in the parking garage downstairs. I walked past it on my way in."

Before my mind can register the implication of what Sweets has just said, my phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out to answer it without stopping to look at the caller ID.

"Booth?" I say into the phone breathlessly.

What little breath I had in my body leaves my mouth in a whoosh. It is not Booth. I quickly tap the speakerphone icon so everyone can hear the call and the robotic voice fills the room.

"Seeley Booth has been buried alive. Dr Brennan must come alone to the following GPS coordinates." The voice recites the coordinates and I see Hodgins jotting them down out of the corner of my eye. The message continues; "If you involve law enforcement, or bring anyone with you, I will know, and he will die. You have 2 hours."

My worst nightmare has come true. The Gravedigger's partner has Booth.