Note: A longer chapter. Hope it isn't too much.

Chapter 2

FBI Headquarters

2 hours later

The cool air of the government building hit Brennan in the face as she entered. Goodman had cornered her and delivered another of his "We are here to help the Bureau" speeches and advised her to watch her actions. The Jeffersonian wasn't taking any chances on her after her impromptu shooting, which had also kept her from receiving a weapon. "Too bad I only shot him in the leg," she thought to herself as she walked to Booth's office. With all the hell she had received, it was a shame she hadn't made the shot count for more.

Her knuckles collided with the wooden oak of Booth's office door. It was open, but she had learned to test the waters with Booth before jumping in to something with him. His face was hidden close to his desk, only brown hair visible. When he heard the knock, he looked up and tossed the pen in his hand aside. "We received a tip about this grave robber," he said spinning his chair and jumping out of the seat.

"What kind of tip?" Brennan questioned and she took a seat in front of his desk. He rounded the corner and came to sit on the edge, legs crossed at the ankles, arms folded across his chest. "By some stroke of luck, we were able to lift prints from the gravestone of Betty Page. They belong to a Jacob Rolph. We ran him through the system and only came up with a few outstanding parking tickets, nothing big. And it will be hard to pin a grave robbing on a cemetery worker," he explained.

"That should make it all the more easier. He works at the cemetery, so he has full access to everything on the property," Brennan said with a frown.

"Yeah but Rolph could argue that he touched the stone when he was doing manual upkeep or something, or he tripped over a grave and caught himself on the headstone, or any other wild possibility someone could imagine," he said waving his hands around in the air.

"It's seems like a plausible thought to go and pay Rolph a visit, to do that thing you do," Brennan offered with a smile exhale of breath as she sat back in her chair. "Profiling I think is what you cops call it." A thin smile threatened to turn her lips upward, but she repressed it when Booth gave her a glare."

His dress shoes hit the gray carpet on the floor and he stood. He didn't move from his spot and remained quiet for what seemed like an eternity. Brennan leaned forward in her chair and stood as well. She looked around and then back at him to find his eyes gliding over her body. When their gazes met, she cocked her head sideways and shot him a puzzling look.

"What are you doing?"

"Deciding if I want to take you with me."

"Since when did that become a problem?" Brennan asked gruffly.

"When you started carrying handguns that weren't issued to you and shooting them without proper warning," he said turning and grabbing a stack of papers from his desk. He stopped abruptly when he found her blocking his passage out of the office. Had the place suddenly got really hot? Maybe it was just the anger rising in her cheeks, Brennan thought to herself.

She moved and he shot past her quickly out of the office. Her boots shuffled and she hurried out after him.

"Since when did people start announcing that they are going to shoot a gun at someone else?" Brennan questioned. "Maybe you should do that the next time you are in my situation. Hey there sir, I see you have a lighter in your hands along with a large tank of gasoline, and to ensure your full protection as well as mine and others, I am going to need you to walk calmly over to me and set the items down. If not, I will be forced to put a bullet in your leg which will cause you years of discomfort if it shatters the tibia or fibula."

"Geez Bones are you loading me full of crap again? You know I do an automatic shutdown when you start naming off body parts," Booth grumbled as he put a paper clipped stack of papers in a tray on another agent's desk. "I had two semesters of biology in college and one of human anatomy. The latter I barely passed, so please spare me of the science lesson."

"It might be helpful to know where you are shooting people," Brennan chided, still close on his heels. He stopped and glared at her. She could feel the agitation fly out of his body and singe her skin. It became increasingly uncomfortable to stand in front of him with every passing second.

"Let's just go pay a visit to Jacob Rolph okay?" he said gesturing his hands toward the sixth floor elevator. No argument there, Brennan thought to herself.

It was past time to leave the hostile territory that the forensic anthropologist had crossed in to. The sooner they got this done, the sooner she could be back on her own turf.

Myers Residence

1:34 pm.

Booth's FBI issued black blazer pulled up to the curb after little over half an hour. He pushed the shades up onto his nose with a finger and looked over to Brennan, asleep in the passenger side. He tapped her shoulder, jolting her as she quickly tried to recover from her slumber.

"In order to properly do our jobs, you might want to start going to bed at night instead of playing with World War I bones," Booth said, resting his hands on the steering wheel.

Brennan frowned when she looked at him, searching through the black plastic of his shades for his brown eyes. They were hidden behind the darkness and she couldn't tell whether his eyes held that twinkle he had when he was teasing her.

"Since when did I start telling you how to do your job?" Brennan grumbled as she reached for the door handle. With a jerk, she popped the door open and stepped out onto the concrete pavement. The sun beat down on her olive skin, setting the red highlights in her hair on fire. The wind offered no relief from the humidity. It caught in the long strands of her hair and whipped it around.

"Can we just go a few seconds without our banter please?" Booth growled as he stepped from the vehicle.

"Only a few seconds?"

"Bones, you know what I mean."

"I think I can get a hold of myself until after this visit. After that I can't make any promises," Brennan said with a small smile.

"Haha, can we get to this please?"

"Gladly," Brennan conceded.

The house looked like it had been taken out of the 60's and flown to its present perch in the quaint neighborhood. A golden yellow paint looked like it had been slapped on the siding eons ago, flakes chipping off at every corner. Brennan ran her hand along the surface of the building and let it fall after a few seconds.

"Looks like someone isn't too worried about the manual upkeep of the place," she called out. Booth removed his shades and stuffed them into his breast pocket. She walked back over to stand beside him in front of the door and spoke.

"Why are we here in the first place? I thought we were going to visit Rolph."

"If you hadn't been asleep for the better part of the trip, I would have filled you in stating that the home belongs to a Gladys Myers, Rolph's elderly mother."

"It seems a bit inconvenient to drive half an hour to the cemetery."

"The job only calls for Rolph to work a few days a week. He is able to split his time between the cemetery and another job doing janitorial services for the local elementary school."

Booth let his knuckles collide with the flimsy metal screen over the door. Brennan could hear shuffling inside, and within a few moments, the door swung open.

An elderly woman in a wheelchair sat in the doorway. Her hair was snow white and her skin very pale. The only thing that kept her from looking like a corpse was her fierce blue eyes behind her thick frames. She has a surprised look at her face as she stared and Booth and Brennan.

"May I help you?"

"Yes ma'am. I'm Special Agent Seely Booth and this is Dr. Temperance Brennan. We are looking for your son, Jacob Rolph. Is her around?"

"I'm sorry, but I haven't seen Jacob in a few days. He comes and goes as he pleases. He gets up and leaves early before I am out of bed most mornings."

"Do you mind if we come in? We'd like to ask you a few questions."

"I'm sorry Mr. Booth. I was just on my way out actually. I would love to help you out, but I am afraid I don't have the time right now. If you want, I can take your number and phone you later"

Brennan could see Booth getting agitated at the woman's uncooperative demeanor.

"This will only take a few minutes of your time, I assure you," Booth said in a gruff tone. He stepped toward the door and the old woman shut the door a few more inches.

"Please. I am on my way out."

"When you get time, give me a call," he said retrieving a card from suit. The woman took the card and nodded to both Brennan and Booth, closing the door on their faces.

Booth turned around and cut his eyes over to Brennan.

"Don't say a word," he said with a finger point in her direction. He grabbed his shades and put them on, masking the fury in his eyes.

"Hey, I'm letting you do your cop thing. My lips are sealed," Brennan said, throwing her hands in the air in a defeated gesture.

"Why is it not that easy every time," he grumbled. More of a statement, than a question this time.

Brennan rolled her eyes and sighed heavily. No use fighting with him. He was in one of his moods again.

She looked around the neighborhood, from the white picket fences, to nicely trimmed lawns. Pretty much one of those tv movie type of places. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a movement in the direction of the alley. The sunlight hit the figure just right, and she was able to catch a look at the face before it disappeared into a shadow.

Her mind did a quick scan of its memory. Although there was a lot to process, she was able to come up with a match. She had viewed a picture of Rolph from about 5 years ago. Although some changes had occurred, he still looked the same for the most part.

"Booth, I think I've found Rolph," she said quietly, letting him follow her eyes in the direction of the alley. Booth turned around just in time to catch Rolph peaking out from his spot.

Quickly, he took off in Rolph's direction. Brennan hurried after him. "Mr. Rolph, may I speak with you for a few moments?"

Rolph got a panicked look on his face and sprinted into the darkness.

"Way to go Booth," Brennan yelled.

"Shit, I hate this part," he said unbuttoning his jacket and withdrawing his gun. Within a few moments, he was swallowed by the darkness as well.