It's been three weeks since burial. The family is beginning to get things back in order. But with Booth's death and the subsequent fallout from the FBI. Things aren't normal anymore. Firstly, Christine. That is, Special Agent Christine Booth is no longer Special Agent Christine Booth. After taking a week off, readjusting her priorities. She had to sit down with the family and asked if there was a place to work at the lab. Brennan decided that it was best to put off the inevitable family conversation about some of Christine's decisions over the last years, to the point that would be less emotional who surprised Brennan the most in this conversation was Hank.

Hank sat quietly. It had been Hank who took Christine's spot at the lab. Once he finished his first doctorate, Brennan was worried that the Boothy the competitive juices come to a head and devour. Hank nodded his head and said to his mother. "I am sure there is work for Chrissie at the lab. It would be nice to have my sister back." Brennan nodded and said to Christina that their conversation was going to happen in a few days. Not today, the Jeffersonian was bubbling as usual. But the relationship between the FBI and the Jeffersonian now had reached a new level of ice. The liaison to the lab, who was usually a Senior Agent with some expertise. Typically, someone who Booth had trained through the years. Someone who had the trust of the lab was no longer appointed. It seems that the name Booth was anathema in the Hoover. And those anathemas were becoming stronger and stronger and more and more frequent.

On the first day, Christine got her lab coat and started demanding to be called Dr. Booth. A few interns began to question amongst themselves none of them had ever seen her before one gathered the guts to speak directly to her,

"My name is Allen. I'm an intern of Dr. Brennan. May I ask, who are you?

Christine turned and introduced herself as Christine Booth.

Allen replied. "So, I may suspect you just finished your doctorate, and you're gaining experience under the great Dr. Temperance Brennan. You seem to be rather comfortable here. If you don't mind, I will show you around."

Christine, at this moment, was about to explode. But thinking about her last foibles, she decided to take the humble route. Instead, just to take it. She smiled. And she said, "Allen, show me around." So, Allen showed her all around the lab. She had grown up in the same lab. This was something Christine needed, something familiar. But the funny moment was coming; Allen would introduce the new doctor to his mentor, Dr. Brennan. "I would like to introduce you to a new member of our team, Dr. Booth, if I'm not mistaken."

Temperance looked over, saw the squirrelish smile on Christine's face, extended her hand and greeted Dr. Booth. Angela was almost unhinged, but laughter behind the door. But she put on a great face and walked up and greeted Dr. Booth, Angela, at this point; Looking at the discomfort that Christine was going through. And the look in her eyes that reminded her friend, Seeley Booth, if only he could see this. She could only think that he must be smiling right now. The squints were being squints. And this guy couldn't deduct that Christine was Brennan's daughter Nor that this was Hank Christine's sibling. But Allen continued on his quest to make sure the new doctor was comfortable in the new digs. So, he asked her what her field of work was. She coughed, cleared her throat, and said, "forensic anthropology. I've learned from the best. My second is the study of soils and my third doctorate in criminology."

Allen looked at her and said, "Oh, so you were a little bit of a prodigy in school. I guess you never had an opportunity to have fun." Christine rankled under this statement. She had hidden her academic accomplishments at the FBI. These idiots would talk to her as though Mini Bones was a child who had just finished high school. She did have a lot of extracurricular activities because her dad made a point of it. She played hockey. She played baseball. Even in her teens, she took up jujitsu because her dad said she must learn to protect herself.

But Allen continuing to drone on about how the lab worked and how Dr. Breton had brought them together. And at this point. Christine was shaking with frustration, even more so when Christine could hear the snickers of Angela, who was following some 10 feet behind. Christine interrupted the drone explanation of Allen and asked if she could speak with the head of the lab. Allen turned to her and said, "Well, the head of the lab. He's unfortunately bound to a wheelchair. And he is a little bit busy with one of his madcap experiments. And I would hate to disrupt him."

At that point, Christine had enough of this idiot; she turned and said, "I will interrupt him."

She stormed off towards Dr. Hodgins' room, opened the door, closed the door and let out a loud audible sigh. Hodgins looked at her in a loud voice and said,

"Chrissy, you scared me!"

And she began to explain her last 20 minutes of utter insanity. Seeing that Christine finally spoke with Hodgins, Angela moved into the room, gave her a big hug and welcomed her back to the family, and unspent tears were in Christine's eye. And she said," I have messed up. I agree. How can I ever turn back the clock?" Angela perked up and said, "Well, we could assign you to hang out with Allen, and I think you can pay your purgatory here on earth! He still thinks he's going to teach you the ropes. He might even show you where the coffee machine is."

Christine turned to Angela and said, "You know, that's, that's why the FBI guys hate hanging out with squints, but also the FBI guys aren't, Dad. Dad was different. Dad became a squint. Because of you guys, and you guys became kind of FBI because of Dad." Angela, with sorrow in her eyes, Agreed. Hodgins looked up at both of them and said, "You know, your dad and I didn't get along. We're on two different ends of the spectrum, social-politically so different we can't even see each other. But he was fair, He was good; patriotic, and he was true. Those elements made him a great human. I loved his faith in God. Although I had difficulties with it. And the way he treated you guys growing up. No man has ever treated a family like that. So, to be called kind of FBI is actually an honour. But the other doorknobs that are coming here are idiots. And unfortunately, now anyone associated with the Booth family is blackballed."

Christine nodded her head. "But the rot is in the FBI. I plan on doing some television. Talking about that, but from a different element, not as academic as mom or literature-based like would Parker. But I want to talk to young people to get them to not be afraid of the monolith, which is the corrupt and corrupting elements of the government. I'm thinking about a bit of a media campaign. Angela's ears perked her eyes, "what do you have in mind, Christine?"

"I'm younger than most. I'm as educated as most people here. But Dad always spent time with me and made sure I could associate with the everyday person. My time with the FBI also allowed me a different perspective, so I'm thinking about a campaign. #weareBooth and talk about all of the good things that he did, how he impacted families, not just personally, but professionally. And I don't believe that's difficult. We could move the public opinion. Because according to what I've heard from some sources that are still willing to talk. The FBI is on the edge of a blade. And the President is about to clean house. We just have to make a little push. And then, the house will come down because I believe that Durant's conspiracy wasn't just him and those thugs. I think others are involved, but they were further down the ranks. Now they are on top. And then being involved means the raw is deeper. You guys got the majority back in the day, but the cancer is still there. I believe that whoever put that lunatic on Dad's case can bring us back to who really ordered the hit because it wasn't a random killing. It was a hit."

Angela and Hodgins, listening to Christine go through this, felt like they were listening to Booth explain his rationale. The difference was that Christine wasn't Booth; Christine grew up in a proper family, she wasn't abused as a child. Christine was brilliant but had a social IQ, so Angela knew that her idea of a media campaign would be unique. And she knew how to help her. Angela needled her arm through Christine's lab coat and tugged her towards her office. "Listen, Christine. I need you to write out 20 ideas for 20 short 30 second episodes. We're gonna start with Instagram and then move to other platforms, stick #WeareBooth. I think you got it, and I will do a little bit of internet magic to pump up the results. Let's see if the media picks up on it, because after your mum's eulogy. There's a lot of interest out there. Be interesting to see how they tried to shut her down. Now, I was thinking of something that could cause the FBI even more pain." Christine quirked an eyebrow reminiscent of Brennan, "Pain, I like pain?" She turns and states. "I'm good with this, as is Hodgins if you can be appointed as the liaison between the lab and the FBI. The FBI will bark, but on what basis; You have three doctorates, and You know how the FBI does things. And you have the competence of the Jeffersonian.

Christine laid out a little bit of air, and she said, "so you're going to force the FBI to work with me. Even though I am toxic." Angela, with an evil glimmer in her eye, "You're not just toxic for them; you are poison. You are cancer and after the #weareBooth. And this will cause more problems because you will pop up on television, working cases, explaining situations. You hold your own better than anyone else. You are a walking nightmare for the nightmare of their own making. Let's make them pay." Angela sat down, sketched out a few ideas and handed them to Christine. Christine said, "well, before anything else, I need to talk to Mum. I need to see if she will agree because she's the only parent I have left. Normally, I would speak to Dad about this, but I don't have Dad, so I need to talk to mom." She turns on the heel. Again, reminiscent of Brennan and quickly stormed out of the room without saying goodbye, reminiscent of Brennan.

Temperance had been working in her office, working through ruins artifacts particulates was found in Inner Mongolia. A rap on a door in a leaning body on a door jamb startled Brennan to her very innermost, how she smiled, how her shoulder was propped up against the door jamb was just like her late husband. She let a tear form and fall from her eye. She looked up and said to Christine, " Is there some way I can help you. She walked over to her desk, plumped herself down in the chair Booth had sat in for so many years, and asked her the question Booth would ask her Every time they met. "Have you eaten? You have to eat." Brennan's statement was, " Let's go eat." Christine turns and adds, " I also need to talk." They waltzed over to the Diner, took the Royal Suite, as the squints used to call it - the corner booth at the Diner That was always reserved for Booth and Brennan. This time, a different Booth. But the same Brennan.

They talked about their day; they spoke of Allen and his insane necessity to order people around and told her mother not to tell him that her mentor for her doctorate was actually Her, and they laughed. She noted that it was the Booth in her that was trying to hide the qualities that she really had; she brushed it off and said to her mother,

" I have an idea, mom. An idea on how to jumpstart publicity for your book. I know that Parker has been working 18 and 19 hours a day on this book. And I need to help him somehow. But I can't do the writing. It's just not in me."

Brennan nodded her head and said, "what was your idea? "

"My idea is this. So far, we've been very personal with this whole case. How Dad protected us, how he was a great father. How he was a great hero. But it's abstract. It's not real, not to the public. The idea is that I will begin making short testimonials like videos of 30 seconds. With the help of Angela, with the #weareBooth, we'll move this hashtag. If we can get people who had first-hand knowledge of Dad, helping them save them, we can capture the public imagination. According to what I've heard, the FBI right now is on a knife-edge. The President is incredibly ticked with everything that they did with that. The military is angry. Hover was having all kinds of issues with staffing; FBI agents were being recruited in front of the Hoover by CIA and NSA recruiters. Then firing me was the worst mistake they could have made. I am exactly the demographic that they're supposedly trying to recruit. And I got fired because I was going to my father's funeral. Don't you see how the optics are terrible?" Brennan nodded her head, agreeing. "But Mom, I need your help."

Brennan looked at her intensely. "How can I help?

Mum, My memories are good, but your memories are insane. Can you put me in contact with people that Dad saved their lives?

"Brilliant!"

I thought you wanted personal contact, no files, just individuals. I want them to speak about how dad saved their lives. Brennan nodded her head and said, " Well, absolutely."

She pulled up her phone and started tapping at different messages she had received in the last days. They were testimonials of people who had been touched by Booth. Personally, in different ways. One of them had said. "You and your late husband saved our town. But no one knows. I want to make it known."

Brennan said, "I think if you contact them, it will be better. I'm going to ask them to contact you if they're so desirous to do so, they will do it, and it will speed up your process. Do you want them also on a video, or do you just want their story?" Christine turned and said, " if I could have a name and a short story, that would help. Maybe the long form of the story could end up being in the book. This could be used as a two-pronged way of looking at the stories; you can compile more reports for the book. And this would get interest out there.

Brennan nodded, " I did something like this in my second book. Andy Lister and Kathy Reich, yeah. That's an excellent idea. Let me, let me take care of that. After we finish eating. And then maybe you could contact Parker and tell him what you're doing to help him with his research. It seems that after the eulogy, personal comments are not in any way lacking. The only worry that we have right now is that somebody in the military will demand to read the work beforehand. They are scared that we will be using classified events. Because Dad's classified accounts are actually far longer and far more harrowing than I had ever known because your dad didn't like to talk about the horrible things in his life. I guess he lived enough of it. We saw enough with it that he didn't want to think about it; the more I think about it more I miss him."

Finishing lunch. The daughter and mother walked back into the lab, and Allen popped up and began to make introductions between Dr. Brennan, his mentor, and the new Dr. Booth. Seeing how familiar they were with each other, Allen turned back to Dr. Brennan and said, "Have you associated with each other before, maybe at one of those academic conferences." Brennan smiled and let out a hearty laugh. "My husband would tell me that squints don't live in the real world; I would fight it. But Allen, You're proving him right now! In your studies, do you not use face measurements to help with the genetic relationships between persons with bones." Allen nodded his head, and she quickly followed it up. "Look at my bones. Look at my face. And look at her face. Look at the bone structures. Do they not tell you anything?" The squint began looking at it because they indicate familiarity, but that could be because of the broad base of the Anglo-Saxon population in America. Brennan blew up and said, "Okay, what is the last name of my late husband?" He perked up and said his name was Agent Booth. What is the name of our new doctor here?

"Dr. Booth."

"Okay. Do you think there may be a connection between the two?

Allen then makes a conclusion which she wasn't expecting.

"But your last name is Brennan. There might not be a relationship between yourself and her."

Dr. Brennan lowers her shoulders a touch and says, "Alright, in academia, I am merely Dr. Brennan, but on legal forums and in my house, I am Dr. Brennan-Booth. She is my daughter; I was her mentor for her three doctorates. I assisted two of them because they were not the primary expertise. She skipped most of high school, and she ran through university. That's why she's so young. And I say, without any pride. She is well educated, but she decided to go into my husband's field, the FBI. But since they have decided to terminate her employment there. I've decided to take a jewel and return it back to its proper place. My lab."

Allen's was aghast. And he turned to Christine and said, "but Dr. Booth. It was as though you had never been here before." Christine answered. "Allen, I was nice. I grew up in this lab. Your mentors here in this lab are members of my family. Dr. Hodgins is my uncle. Miss Montenegro, my aunt and godmother. Dr. Wendell built my first house when I was a baby. So, Allen, there is much you need to observe. If I could just help one thing with the squints is to be a little bit more perceptive of the realities as they present and not to be so empirical as to question the very existence of our own lives."

Allen was aghast.

"You're not a true empiricist. I'm a pragmatist. If there is a concept, which, in a realm of possibility, could exist, and it has no implication into the realm in which we live. I am not interested. I want to know how things work, not if, on Pluto, Is it possible that it couldn't work. So, I am not a radical empiricist in that model. I am not Kantian. I am far more practical, far more utilitarian."

Allen stood back, Begged his pardon; Dr. Brennan gave her a hug and said, "This is what happens when you mix my approach with your father's; you end up being well-grounded. It's a pleasure to have you back in the lab."

And they went their separate ways.

A few days later. Few lab squints went with Dr. Brennan, Dr. Booth, and Angela Montenegro to the National Forensic Anthropology Conference held in Boulder, Colorado. Brennan was going to give a thesis paper. And as a special treat. Dr. Christine Booth would be addressing the public on the links between forensic anthropology, through a purely scientific manner, and law enforcement and how the two could be improved. Christine knew that this was a platform to blast the FBI, but she would use it. Hopefully, she will forward a more scientific approach to speak about how her father respected scientists and health scientists and how law enforcement should respect the science community. she milled around after the first introductions. There was a cocktail party. Everyone who was anyone in the scientific world was there. And who could get a ticket had shown up, knowing that Dr. Brennan was going to speak. And once it was known that Dr. Booth. Dr. Christine Booth, Former agent of the FBI, was also going to speak, which caused that absolute fury amongst the scientific community, Looking for something salacious to listen to.

At the reception, munching on tiny sandwiches and drinking bottles of Perrier water, with the occasional glass of Rosé wine. The women chatted until Angela decided she would find out if there was any new tech in the forums that she could see; she said her adieu and walked towards the hall entrance. Temperance and Christine chatted a bit more. Christine looked at her watch and remembered that she was first up because the organizers had to fit her into the program. And as noted, Rarely does the scientific community do well with change. Something that she had learned well to do from her father. She told her mom that she had to review her notes and prepare for her lecture. Peaking her on the cheek, wished her well, and said she would be sitting in the front row; If she wanted, she could sit in the back row like her dad always does.

Christine stated clearly, "Whatever, you feel more comfortable, but I wish dad was here."

A sad smile covered Temperance's face, But she agreed. And they went their separate ways.

As soon as they went their separate ways. The organizers of the conference were women who were about the age of Temperance with similar academic backgrounds. Of course, not as illustrious as Temperance, but they'd like to believe they were, at least on par with her, came and approached her and started making small talk. A more prominent woman with a thunderous voice -Temperance concluded quickly; she was used to being heard-. Began to make pointed questions about what Temperance was going to do with her life. Since she wasn't that old and that she could always move on, Temperance grabbed on to that point.

"Professor Smith. When you say move on. What do you mean?"

" Well, Dr. Brennan, you're 65; you were with this man. This FBI guy for many years. I thought you might want to try and see something different." Brendan's eyes begin to bore into the woman in front of her, "try something different?" Brennan thought: -What's wrong with her?

" Dr. Smith, please explain to me what you mean by these statements." "Well, I can't imagine you being so obtuse, considering you've been bound to your family, and this FBI guy, he might have many muscles, but no intellect. For so many years, tied down in this domestic boredom. You might want to try something a little bit flashier. As for what I've always heard, your former husband wasn't exactly the flashy type. He didn't like the limelight and didn't like the finer things. Brennan, at this point, was stunned by this theory. "Are you, are you saying, Are you, supposing, without any empirical data that my husband Special Agent Seeley Booth was stupid?"

"Well," Doctor Smith continued. "He has no advanced degrees, doctorates and works with his hands. Agent Booth killed people. He was probably closer to murder than a scholar. Brennan's ears were purple.

"You say this, how? Where is your data?

"Well," observation, of course, you get locked down with the first child, and you don't continue to work in anthropology as you used to. You abandoned the digs. You take on your partner's bastard child..." at the words that Parker was being referred to as a bastard, her handprints appear on the face of the offending Professor; it was reminiscent of earlier years when she had punched a judge. When she had broken the wrist of a serial killer and so many other times. She smacked the face of Professor Smith. With her strike. "You shall never call Parker A bastard! He is my son. I adopted him. He wasn't imposed on me. Parker is as much my child as my other two. There is no difference. What you say is what you supposedly observed. It's all empirically wrong because you do not know the story. You do not know Booth. I thought that I would only have to be talked to in this manner by the Neanderthals at the FBI. But I used to boast I used to tell him that, People were different in academia. But you have proven that absolutely the opposite. If you were right. Then we would have had marital strife. When my children, Parker included, all went on an academic path. Christine following me closely. Hank exceeded me, and Parker followed me insofar as a writer but going into psychology, which was something that neither of us was very keen on. If he was such a Neanderthal, Would he have had objected? Professor Smith, smiling from the smack in the face, gritted her teeth and said, "but isn't it true that he demanded that your brilliant daughter play hockey, where she could have received tremendous amounts of abuse, concussions and other structural damage. Is it not true that she was sent by your husband to practice jujitsu? Isn't it true that your husband demanded that both of your children play baseball? Isn't it true that he insisted that you live in a simpler neighbourhood than you were able to afford?

Brennan nodded, "Dr. Smith. You weren't married. You do not have children. When you are married and have children, you work in a partnership. Early in my collaboration with Booth, I realized that he had qualities that I did not have. He had ways of seeing things that I was blind to, so when he proposed something, I didn't see, the proposition, I would always allow him to do it. He had been doing that with me for years before I ever perceived it. Never underestimate him. Do so at your own peril. He learned that being around people. That was his interpersonal skills; he could read people. And he knew how to put them at ease. And part of it was that he would act stupid. And in acting stupid. The proud, arrogant fool that was in front of him would show all of their cards. He would then clean them out and win his case. Anyone who thinks the reason why we had the best closure and conviction rate in the FBI for those so many years was that I did all the work is blind and stupid. Ask anyone at the Jeffersonian even asked my enemies? Ask his enemies? Booth put in the work; Booth would be the one who spent hours going over the evidence, crossing it over with the science that at times he didn't understand, things that were beyond him. He learned, but he'd pretend that he didn't know.

Dr. Smith cut her off and said, "but he was notorious for butchering words. Neanderthals never were able to use formal language, proper terminology."

Brennan laughed. "He did that as a way of cooling down situations, of making a joke, but when it was necessary; When he was in the thick of things; Booth knew all the correct terms. He knew what they all meant. And that was his way of helping everyone around him. Did you perceive? I guess you haven't had a chance. It's the social medium. But the interns and those who work for the Jeffersonian bought a memorial bench placed in front of Booth's tomb and what was most touching about it was what the squints, as he called them, would say about with him. He was on their side, even till today. Many over the years have moved on to other occupations, other locales. Other places are very uncommon to have scientists calling scientists, asking for favours. But over the years, I've received hundreds of requests of favours, from simple disputes to more complicated ones. And all of them would begin in the same manner. "Dr. Brennan, how are you? How are things? Begin with the banalities of the beginning of a letter. And when we came to the heart of the letter. They asked me to intercede with Booth to ask him with his common-sense vision to look at their problem and help with a solution. Favours Not unusually, would sit there, read through the problem, give us ideas. If it was more complex, he would ask me if he needed to go and help; Booth never denied help to anyone. About you saying he didn't like the finer things of life. But it was part of his stoic and military background. He wouldn't allow the wealth that I had accumulated to become a stumbling block for our relationship. He wanted to make sure that it was a partnership to put in as much as possible. Over the years, the lines that he had placed in his desire to be fair melted away. We didn't want our children to be like, so many children that we had seen investigating murders. And that this discipline that he wanted for our children was something that I shared. So no, we could have afforded a Tony townhouse in Georgetown; we could have afforded some estate someplace. We kept our home somewhere, which was natural. One story that I heard. I'm not sure if it was echoed in academia, but it was one of the calumnies against him. I rectified it against his will: the finances were divided, so he didn't take advantage of me. The truth of it was that he didn't want to take any of my money. Although I didn't see it that way. So as time went by, I opened joint accounts and forcibly put his interests inside. He was trustworthy; our partnership was always based on trust, that is, before we got married. Before, we had a relationship. Trust is everything; respect is everything. That is why Booth is loved by the very people who work with him. If you don't know that; You don't know him. One of the things that enlightened me was speaking to military officials. Those who had fought with him. Some older ones who had fought as his commanding officers. But what I found more fascinating was the myth of Booth. A senior Army Ranger told my daughter that if everything Booth did was declassified. He would be greater than Jack Ryan. I told this story to some of my colleagues at the lab. My colleagues who are more up on their popular culture than I said, " Jack Ryan? tried Jason Borne. James Bond. But those guys didn't have a heart, didn't have a family, and weren't respected in the same way?

So today, we're going to be addressing the issue of cooperation. Just keep in mind. It's obscene to impinge someone's birthright. If you or anyone ever calls my son, By that slur, I will strike them also! With that, she ended her lecture. Brennan turned our heel and walked away.

Searching for Christine, In the corner, not too far away. Christine was sitting, going through her notes and spying on her mother's interaction and these old crows. Brennan pulled up a chair, sat down and hugged her daughter. Her daughter patted her on the back and gave her the patented Booth hug and told her it'd be all okay. Brennan said, "I had her!" Christine smiled and said, "I would have to hit her, but you got there first. How can people say such terrible things about Parker? He was used by his mother as a tool to hurt your father. I watched it, over the years, years and years, the boy being used. And now they have tried to use that against him also. How cruel can they be, Christine?" With this comment, Christine's head sinks. "You know I'm also part of the problem. In a sense, by refusing to treat Parker properly, Acknowledging Parker as part of our family. I was doing the same thing. I'm as guilty as she is. I need to make it up with Parker. I need to make it up with Hank; I need to make it up with you." Brennan hugged her daughter and said, "you are doing what you have done these last few weeks, made up for everything! Your father taught me how to forgive, how to trust. But more than all, how to be human. These people have a deficiency. That your father always pointed out, and I sometimes took it personally. But today, I understand what he was talking about. Those women never lived, never allowed themselves out of their academic ivory towers, and they impugn others that somehow, you're less because you are more. It saddens me to know, and Christine took out her pen, jotted down her mother's remarks, and asked her a straightforward question, "Mom, speak to me straight. Were you a better scientist before you met dad? Were you a better scientist, Once you had me, empirically speaking, the yes or no answer? Did you sacrifice everything for me?" Brennan begins herself thinking, "Emotionally, I had everything tied down. I didn't live. I didn't feel, I was half dead. You may say similar to your silly movies about zombies. I was a sort of emotional zombie. I may have produced more work, but I was not a better scientist because I'm supposed to study human behaviours and human civilizations. But if I don't partake in the human experience. How can I be a good scientist? How am I going to explain the role of motherhood? When I never felt what motherhood could be? That's what people miss with my relationship with Parker. That surrogate relationship for those first years, with Parker and your father. Although nothing else was going on, it taught me that it was possible to have a trusting relationship. Parker loved me even though I gave him nothing. He loved me for being there. Loved me for being with him on a carousel, sitting with him with his science homework, which, needless to say, was brain-numbing. But he was so happy that unrequired happiness. These women never had. They may be able to say, they may write more than me. But I believe my work has more weight than them. Christine. Does that make sense? "

Christine nodded her head. "Mom. Didn't dad once tell you that you had a big heart? But you didn't believe it. The hum became a little bit of a sniffle. "Your dad was right, time and time again. That's what makes me very angry. When these types of people make these outlandish statements. The man only went after you for your money. The man was a Neanderthal. The man was an idiot. He doesn't have an academic background; all those points are wrong in so many ways. But your dad went through all this with me and still stuck around with an iceberg, A cold fish that was me. I only really changed. Once you come around. That softening effect caused me to become more human, more trusting. So, in truth, You and Parker are the reason why I became a better scientist And don't let anyone change your mind.

On the other side of the convention floor, Angela Montenegro talked to some computer techs about new experimental hardware that she was interested in trying out in her computer lab. A professor at Stanford stepped up to her and asked, "is your name Angela Montenegro? She nodded with a big smile, " Yes, that's me."

"Is it true that you work with the Jeffersonian?" She smiled because that would be the same. "I've been there for what 30 years."

"But you don't have advanced degrees. How can you work in such an academic ambience and not be? Angela, at this point, was beginning to become irked. She begins by saying, "Well, let's just say that our academic ambience isn't exactly the same as other labs in America. We actually like each other. I know that's hard to believe, but we actually like each other. And we've all, at least those in senior positions, have been together for years. And just for the record, my husband has three advanced degrees, three doctorates. My best friend has three also. So, no, I don't feel put down. They treat me with respect. And we all work in our particular ways."

The Professor continues, "but you don't have a doctorate in computer science, but you continually work with computers and forensics. How is this possible." Angela's becoming angry. And she looks at the Professor and says, "Okay, how do you get a degree. You study, and you've examined. 30 years, I've worked with the best in this field. I have recreated forensics imaging. I've done forensic accounting. I have done everything, and I've built and patented various electronic and computer interfaces. And those who are tops in their fields have given me a passing grade. So, although I may not have a doctorate. I feel that I am more than adequate. And if you still question that maybe I should be in the lab, you should ask those I work with if I'm good enough to work with them."

the Stanford prof looked at her and said, "I just imagined someone far more intelligent than yourself."

Angela, at this point, had steamed herself to the fact that she had gone full Texan.

"Listen, buster. I don't normally punch people. I don't normally kill people. But you're beginning to get on my nerves. My best friend's husband: Actually, he was one of my best friends too. -Don't tell him that- but he has died, murdered two weeks ago. And he had a thing in which he would say about people who work in labs that you guys aren't normal. You guys are weird. He used to keep telling me that I was one of the most normal people in the lab. I'd like that; my husband likes that. My best friends like that. My lab mates like it. And not all that matters. If and when they want to replace me with someone like you. I will welcome the change and go to France and paint, but now I'm looking for an interface to help me do my job better. It's been a pleasure. Let's talk later. Actually, maybe not!" she turns her back on the Professor. The Professor looks incredibly at her and says, "How is this possible?" He taps her on the shoulder, actually puts his hand on her shoulder to turn her around. And as he does, Angela's fist meets his face. "Oh, by the way, I'm telling you, don't manhandle me. I bite."

Holding his face, he stumbles away. Angela, huffing, marches off and bumps literally into Christine Booth. "Auntie Angela, You look angry. What happened."

" I met an idiot squint."

Christine laughs. "But you're a squint."

Angela replies," Correct, ma'am, but I'm not an idiot."

Christine asks her, "Can we sit down, talk to me about what happened. You look like you're outraged, Angela goes through her conversation. Christine sighs and just asks her a simple question. "Have you ever asked Mom or Jack or anybody to convalidated all of the work you've done over the years? This would take away this complaint they have about you. Because if I look at your academics. You didn't finish your master's, and you have to be a two Bachelors of Science. I know what you've done. This might silence those types." Angela stood up, saying, "Listen, girl. I'm closer to retirement than I am to entering school and doing things. I'm good at what I do; Your mom knows it; My husband knows that. Heck, even the FBI knows that. I don't need to have some squint look down on me." Angela begins to laugh in a hearty booth-like manner, the younger Booth said, "calm down, Angela, I'm not saying that."

Angela turns with her. "What are you saying is you have someone who is a professor who can look over your experience, your amazing work over the many the years. And to give you what is already yours. You could be a forensic anthropologist, with a specialty in digital fragment forensics, without an issue. You know that I know that. Why don't you ask mom? Jack would do it." Angela looks at her and says, "But what about nepotism. What happens if they say I got it because I was friends with the boss." Christine Snickers and says, "you're a lot more than friends with the boss. But I get what you're saying. Listen, let me kick around and find out if possible because I can't believe you haven't got your doctorate yet. You're like the best in your field. No one comes close to you, and you're not getting your comeuppance. Christine smiled at Angela, "but in my book. You are the best; there's no one better than you." Christine and Angela went for a cup of coffee to get away from squint Central.

Brennan was pacing in the corridor outside of the main hall. She was angry; she was curious. And in a sense, Bones was worried about what people would say to her Parker. So finally, she picked up her phone and called Parker.

" Yeah, Mom, What's up?"

"I want something from you. It is about the book."

"Sure. You want me to connect the recorder right now so you can dictate." "No, I need you to place this in the book, but it has to be from your perspective."

"Okay, so we're talking about what part of the book."

" I believe it'd be towards the beginning. I want you to talk about your relationship with your father and with me from the start."

Parker was a little confused, saying, "but that's kind of personal. I really don't want to."

" Parker, I've met some people who have said some very hurtful things to me today. I want them dispelled. I want them to be fleshed out, put into the public, and forever buried. I don't want people snickering. I don't want people saying things and behind your back."

Parker in a tiny voice that sounded little like the Parker that she knew, who was now very timid and a little bit scared. "Someone mentioned my parentage."

Brennan busted out and said, "Yes. People asked me how I would cope with taking care of someone else's child. But Parker, I've never thought about it like that, Mostly because you are someone else's child. I guess, in a sense, I adopted you. When I first met you, you, for me, were the one who proved what a family could be and if it was possible. You were the one who accepted me in a way that your father was unable to because of his lines and professionalism; you convinced me. So, I always considered you, my child. For someone to question this, it hurts, hurts bad...

Parker replied, "you understand how badly it hurt when Christine said those words to me at the table?" Brennan nodded. "I agree. I understand. But I never truly understood how people could say such hurtful things. Parker never doubts this. There was something that James told Christine that really hit home for her, made her feel very bad, but in a sense, for me, made me understand our relationship. Parker picked up the line of conversation asked, "What was the subject that James told Christine?"

"Although I gave birth to her. I didn't honestly choose her. But I adopted you. In a sense, I chose you for who you were." Christine was saddened by that. Christine asked James. 'So, in a sense, I was the pick of the draw, and Parker was the one who she went to the store and selected.' James nodded his head. Exactly Parker. You are as much a child of mine as my own biological children are. And even more so because you share your DNA with Booth. So don't you dare ever consider yourself less?" He agreed. He said that going through those first years was going to be very painful. But he would do it for her. He would send her tomorrow a draft of the proposed chapter on that subject. She said, "I will look at it on the plane, and we'll talk about it, maybe at dinner. By the way, Parker. Can you make me a grilled cheese sandwich when I get back? It brings me back to a lovely period with your father and your great great grandfather. Parker smirked, smiled, giggled, and said, "absolutely, I'll make you the best-grilled cheese sandwiches in the world." Temperance, before turning off her phone, thanked Parker and said goodbye. Temperance now calmed; she steeled herself and put herself back into the forum; when the announcement sounded, she would be addressing the crowd in 10 short minutes.