(Sonnet – got your room/clothes line in here!)

A/N: Enjoy.

Disclaimer - I'm only playing with them! They're not mine, all Fox TV and whoever else's. But not mine. Sob

Chapter 9

Booth watched as she took the phone call, feeling frustration rising in his chest. He had had no intentions to sleep with her tonight, that would be too soon, but he had rather liked the idea of curling up with her on the sofa and watching an old movie, or even just talking. Now they had gotten past the flirty glances and actually kissed he felt a barrage of emotions hitting him hard like hailstones. If she went to the lab now he was afraid that she might just erase what had happened from her mind, or change what she felt and order him to stay away from her. He didn't think he could do that now. He wanted this with her.

She looked at him, eyes wide. "Ange sounds upset – she's at the lab and something's happened there," she said, he noticed a slight look of vulnerability on her face that he hadn't seen before.

"I'll drive," he said, grabbing there coats and walking toward the door.

"You always do."

He grinned. "I've only had two glasses of wine. You had the rest of the bottle. Did she say what had happened?"

Brennan shook her head. "If it wasn't urgent she wouldn't have called," she said as they left the house. "She asked if I was with you."

"Did you tell her?" He asked, opening the car door for her. She stepped in, automatically fastening her seat belt.

"Yes, I said you were with me."

He jumped into the driver's side. "And she didn't ask for details?"

Brennan shook her head. "No, which makes me worry that something is really wrong."

He started up the engine with one and hand and the other squeezed her knee. He half expected her to rebuke him for doing so, but instead she put her hand on top of his. He wanted to tell her his fears – that she might stop what they had started – but he doubted that now was the right time and his brain had already begun to process what might have gone on at the lab.

"Angela was on a date tonight, wasn't she?" He asked.

Brennan nodded. "You think her date's done something?" She looked worried.

"I don't know, Tempe. But we'll soon be there to find out," he put his foot down, zooming through a couple of red lights and breaking speed limits.

In half they time it usually took they were at the Jeffersonian. Booth pulled over and practically abandoned the car. Brennan dashed out and ran, following him toward the lab. Streams of people were racing ahead of them, including the police. She looked at him, a note of panic in her eyes that he hadn't seen since he had been in hospital after taking a bullet for her. He put a hand on her shoulder and slowed her.

"Tempe, slow down. You know Angela is fine, she called you," he reassured. He expected her to move his hand off of her shoulder but she seemed to just move closer to him instead. She was still the strongest woman he knew, but that didn't mean he couldn't at least try to take care of her.

As they drew closer to the lab he saw Dr Goodman running toward them, anxiety pictured on his face.

"Dr Brennan, Agent Booth," he called out. "I believe Miss Montenegro called you?"

Brennan nodded, waiting for him to tell her what had happened.

"She is fine – now. We seem to have had a slight bother with her new boyfriend," they walked with him into the lab, bypassing security who were based all around.

"What happened?" Booth spoke up.

Dr Goodman sighed deeply. "I think Angela would like to tell you herself," he said, leading them to a room just opposite Brennan's office where Angela would often work in peace.

Through the window he could see the other woman. She had clearly been upset but had now calmed herself. She spotted them passing and managed to raise a smile. As they entered the room Angela stood and Booth watched as Brennan embraced her closely then sat down beside her.

"What's happened?" She asked her friend. Any normal social awkwardness from Brennan had gone. Her one concern was now Angela. She hadn't asked about evidence from the case, although obviously that had been tampered with as he had noticed on the way in. He felt proud of her for some reason.

Angela looked down at the floor, obviously trying not to cry. "I guess I don't have very good taste in men," she said, her voice chocking.

"What do you mean?" Booth crouched down in front of her.

Angela laughed rather dryly. "Matthew, the guy I've been seeing who worked in the offices here, well, he wasn't interested in me, as such, more like the fact that I had keys to get in the place." She rolled her eyes.

"He was the one who broke in here the other night?" Angela nodded at his question. "That's not your fault, Angela, that's his!"

She gave a forced half-smile. "Yeah? Well, it doesn't stop me feeling like a fool. He was really nice. Or well I thought he was. On Friday, after you left Wong Foo's, Booth,we went back to his. Almost immediately I fell asleep, I put my tiredness down to a traumatic week, although nearly every week here's traumatic and I'm not usually tired on a Friday. He must have taken my keys to get in here, then put then back.

"Tonight he just demanded I give him the keys. He'd been really sweet – asking all about my job, and what work I'd done to identify the bodies. It was the first time anyone I'd been out with actually took an interest in what I did, so I probably told him more than I should," she shook her head, berating herself. "I refused to give him the keys, so he got angry. He tied me up," she showed them red welts on her wrists from where ropes had bound her. "And searched me for the keys. He brought me here with him and made me watch while he ransacked all the evidence we have on the house of horror case, asking me where various things were kept. What he actually wanted wasn't there."

"What was that?" Booth asked her.

"He wanted any evidence connected with Roger Charlesworth. That was when it clicked," she looked up them, her composure regained. "His name – it's Matthew Charlesworth."

Booth sat down on the floor, letting another piece of the jigsaw click into place. Roger Charlesworth had lived in Moreton Street with Dean and Uncle Willy. They had theorised that he may have had something to do with the murders. "Did he say if Roger Charlesworth was still alive?" He asked rapidly.

Angela shrugged. "What he was saying gave me the impression that he was. He kept on saying "Have they found the bones – uncle wants them," or something like that. I tried telling him that that there were a lot of bones round here so he'd have to be more specific."

"He was looking for the small bones that were missing, the ones we though may have been taken as trophies. We haven't recovered them yet," Brennan looked at him, her face serious. "Ange, did he ask anything about evidence that was taken from Craigon Avenue?"

Angela nodded. "He wanted to know where it was. I kept telling him that it wasn't here. That was when he got annoyed and stormed off."

"How did you manage to get free of the ropes?" Booth asked, standing up.

"Perseverance. I waited till he had gone and then managed to contort myself round so it was actually quite easy. I probably could have done it sooner, but I didn't want to try while he was here in case he got angry," she looked impossibly glum. Booth hadn't seen Angela like this before, she was an optimist and rarely out of sorts. It was lucky that she was such a happy person. Any one else would likely be traumatised by now.

"You did the right thing," he looked towards Brennan. "We need to get over to Brigiton. I need to make a few phone calls and get people on sight at Matthew Charlesworth's address with a search warrant, and have someone looking for the whereabouts of Roger Charlesworth, although I had thought he was six feet under."

Booth stepped out of the room, cell phone out of his pocket and already at his ear.

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"So cheer me up, Tempe," she said looking up at her friend with weary eyes. "You and Booth turned up together. Does that mean you were together? At night?"

Brennan sighed half happily. Angela did need some juicy gossip to help her feel better. She knew she would regret disclosing this later, especially while Dr Goodman was still there, but she supposed it would come out sooner or later.

"Yes, we were at Seeley's. We were putting the dinner plates in the dishwasher when you rang," she almost laughed out loud at the look on Angela's face. And Dr Goodman's.

"Have you kissed yet?" Angela perked up. Booth chose that moment to walk back into the room. He looked straight at Brennan. She wondered if he hadn't wanted her to say anything, but his mouth curled up into a huge grin.

"Several times," he answered for her, leaving Angela open mouthed.

"And I thought that you two would never come to your senses and we'd need to find a way to look you in a room together, possibly without your clothes," Dr Goodman stood up and left them all in a stunned silence.

"We need to head off," Booth looked at her once he had recovered from her boss' comment. "Angela, there is a police man outside waiting for you to give a formal statement. I am sure he'll look after you."

"Is he cute?" Angela asked, perking up. Brennan caught Booth's eye and they passed a smile between them.

"I don't know, Angela. I doubt I have the same idea of cute as you do," Booth retorted with amusement.

"Oh, I don't know," she smiled back. "I've always thought Brennan was cute, and quite clearly you do too."

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Brennan followed Booth back out to his car, any signs of tiredness erased by the adrenaline that was now flowing through her body. Booth had placed one hand on the small of her back, keeping her close to him and pushing her through the swarms of people now in the building. The breach in security was being taken seriously.

They saw Zack and Hodgins on their way out, and Brennan managed to issue instructions to them. Between them they were going to have to log all the evidence and make a list of what had been tampered with and taken. She would have like to have been their to do it herself, but she wanted to discover what had been going on with Angela's date, and had a feeling that there would be more evidence to secure back in Craigton Avenue.

They set off at speed, and she realised that they would be attempting the journey in record time. Darkened houses sped by into a blur as they began to race to Brigiton. Time was of the essence.

"I have a theory," she heard Booth begin after a few minutes of comfortable silence. "I don't think Dean Lammork is dead. I think it was actually Roger Charlesworth's body that was found, probably decomposed enough for it to be passed off as Dean's. I had no record for Dean being dead, yet when I checked this afternoon Roger Charlesworth was down as having died in 1997."

"How would they have done that?" Brennan shook her head.

"Charlesworth dies. He is declared dead by the coroner and given a death certificate. Dean and Davey take charge of the body and bring it to their house for a wake, or on the pretence of a wake. They put the body in the greenhouse where the temperature speeds up its decomposition. It's then left outside for Davey to find it who declares it to be Dean," Booth explained.

"Then why was there no death certificate for Dean Lammork?" She asked.

"Davey gets the sheriff to see the body and confirm the identity, for which he probably writes out a report. Davey offers to take responsibility for calling a doctor and having him fill out a death certificate. The sheriff lets him as he's bone idle and never bothers to chase it up. Davey and Dean dispose of the body, not getting a death certificate as they know a doctor will probably demand a post mortem, which will lead to complications," he ended.

"Why would they want people to think that Dean has died?" Brennan asked.

"It was in 1997 that the hotel company that's now building on the land began to enquire about buying it. They would have known that that would have resulted in the house being demolished and the likelihood of the bodies being found. If people thought Dean was dead, then he wouldn't be able to be arrested and charged. There isn't enough evidence to prove that Davey had anything to do with it to charge him, apart from the bag of bones perhaps, or any more bodies that have been buried on his property," he elucidated.

"This is beginning to make sense," Brennan concurred. "How does Matthew Charlesworth fit into…" she stopped short, having figured it out for herself. "He's the next one who's being coached by Dean. He got a job at the Jeffersonian to help destroy any evidence that came into the lab. Of course, he would have known all about the work I do with you and that any bones found on any property would eventually come to me." She sighed. "Poor Angela!"

"She'll get over it," Booth said.

"That's not fair, she's…"

"Trust me, Tempe, the officer interviewing her now will take her mind off what has happened nicely!"

"So you did think he was cute then," she smiled annoyingly at him.

"Ha ha," he mocked. He fell silent. She could practically here his brain ticking over. "How come you told Angela about us?" He asked after a pause of a few minutes. "And your boss?"

"Are you annoyed about it?" She asked. She hadn't thought he was. He was the one who had told them about him and her kissing several times.

He shook his head. "I'm surprised, Tempe. I didn't think that you would want anyone to know."

She studied him, seemingly concentrating on driving very fast to there destination, but as much as she hated to admit it, he was a good driver, and hence didn't need to concentrate that hard. He just didn't want to make eye contact with her, even for a split second.

"Why wouldn't I want anyone to know, Seeley?" She asked.

"I was worried that you'd want to forget all about what happened in the kitchen, so it surprised me when you confessed to Angela," he still didn't look at her.

"What makes you think I'd want to forget?" She felt genuinely concerned. The last thing she wanted to do was to not remember the kisses they'd shared and how he'd made her feel. What a relief it had been to finally do something about the attraction she had felt for him for so long, even though she'd only just realised what it was.

"Tempe," he finally glanced at her as he said her name before reverting his eyes back to the road. "I thought you might regret it and put it down to being tired."

"Is that what you hoped?" She asked, fear striking at her chest.

He laughed sarcastically. "No. I hoped that Angela was upset about something else and we could have gone back to mine again and you'd have sat curled up on the sofa with me, watching old movies."

She smiled at his vision of the night. It sounded much better than their present predicament. "Then maybe that's what we'll do tomorrow," she said lightly. She paused for a few seconds, thinking carefully about what she wanted to say. "I was happy to tell Angela that we'd been together," she said simply. "It cheered her up and gave her something to take her mind off what had happened."

"Is that the only reason?" He said, still sounding a little miserable.

"What do you think, Booth?" She said, her tone back to its usual abrasive crispness.

"Do you want it to happen again?" He didn't give up.

"Yes," she answered before she had even thought about the question, surprising herself. She did want it to happen again. In fact, she knew that whenever they next got the chance to sleep, she didn't want it to be away from him. It was like a dam had been broken and now gallons of water was now pouring in, saturating her with these strange emotions that made her feel elated, and made her think about something other than work.

She noticed the look on his face change to a smile. "Do you want it to?" She knew the answer bout it would be nice to hear him say it.

"Yes. But next time I want to take you for a proper date," he said firmly.

"As long as I get to choose the restaurant," she replied. Just because she was having fuzzy feeling toward him didn't mean that they couldn't banter.

"Nah, much better being me," he retorted.

"Then we'll end up at Wong Foo's again!"

The argument persisted until they reached Craigton Avenue. Brennan could see the street crawling with FBI officers and scene of crime officers. She looked at Booth.

"This is getting bigger, isn't it?" She said grimly, wondering what was to come of this second property, and how many more women would need their identities giving back to them.

He nodded, parking up as close as he could get to the property. "We're in for another long night."

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