Note: Sorry it has taken me so long to get another chapter pumped out on this one. I am still sort of stuck in a writer's block, so I hope this chapter doesn't suck. I have already started writing the next chapter, so look for it to be up by tonight.

Chapter 4

Today was the first day she had ever left work before she was supposed to. Goodman sent her off after she snapped at Zach about being too slow on cleaning the bones of a new victim they had received. Strike three of the day she guessed.

The first had been the fight with Booth, number two coming when she shunned a tour group Goodman had told her to pay special attention to. 'Exposure' he kept saying. Babysitting had not been a box to check when she had applied for the job. Only the 'babies' she was supposed to show around had been the head of funds appropriations for the Institute.

Now, she lay looking at the ceiling, watching the beige fan turn around time after time. Shattering her thoughts, the phone vibrated on her nightstand. Sliding across the comforter of her bed, she grabbed it.

"Brennan."

"Bones, I need you to come down to the Bureau."

"Why?"

"We've got him."

Her heart had sunk so deep into her chest, she wasn't even sure it was beating anymore. Breath became stuck in her lungs and she sighed, not sure of whether it was from relief or something else. Running to the kitchen counter, she picked up her purse and keys and sprinted out the door.

FBI Headquarters

The light filtered in through the slender cracks in the blinds over the window, casting a soft light on Booth and the man sitting across from him. Booth sat upright, stiff and unmoving. Every so often, he felt his jaw clench and heart tense, knowing Brennan was probably barreling through the security checkpoints of the building.

Rolph sat with a smile twisted on his thin lips, brown hair mussed over his balding area. His eyes were cold, the brown showing no sign of emotion. He had put up a fight when they had raided his hideout. An officer had been wounded and the team had found more evidence of Rolph confiscating remains from graves.

Booth twirled a pen around on the table, never taking his eyes off of Rolph. Rolph offered a smug smile, sending Booth's nerves on edge. He slammed his hand down on the pen, stopping its rotation.

"Why so smug Rolph? It's not like you are ever going to walk out of here again," Booth grumbled and stood. He placed his hands on his hips, pacing back and forth.

"So what? You caught me," Rolph said leaning back in his chair. Bringing his hands together, he clapped slowly several times. "Good job G-man. How long did it take? You FBI guys must have a record at solving crimes."

Booth walked to the interrogation table and placed his palms on the cool metal. He knew what Rolph was trying to do. If Booth smashed his head into the concrete wall like he wanted to, Rolph got to cry assault and his sentence would be reduced. Lawyers and their loopholes. It was Booth's turn to smile.

"You shot my partner. My unarmed partner!" He started to yell. "I should smash your skull into that wall there and put a bullet straight through to your heart. Where I'd like to send you, you'd never see the light of day again and wouldn't be wasting the take payer's dollars with your filth."

Booth ran a hand through his hair and looked back over at Rolph. "But since I signed an oath to uphold the laws and rules of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, you get to live," Booth said. "Until I get to personally watch them stick a needle in your arm and send you out of this world, sadly in a more humane way than your victims."

"So, you think this all ends with me? There will be another girl, another victim, another grave robbing. You think you have found solace in the fact that your pretty little forensic anthropologist will be able to walk in here today? She may not die by my hand, but rest assured Agent Booth, she will die. Someday, somewhere. That is her curse because she seems persistent on following you around."

Booth clenched his hand into a fist, feeling anger rush through his veins. A moment later, a soft touch grazed his shoulder, and then tightened on his arm. He hadn't heard her enter, but the smell of her perfume wafted into his nose and sent him into an immediate calm. Turning around, his eyes met the blue of hers. She spoke volumes with her looks, but she did not know it.

Rolph smiled again and tossed Brennan a little wave. She pulled out the chair at the table and sat down, folding her arms across her chest.

"How's the wound my dear? Healing well I hope."

"How's life in jail treating you? Anybody's bitch yet?"

Rolph eyes boiled with anger and his smile faded. Whatever he had sitting on his tongue to say to her slid down his throat and vanished.

"Oh, right. You haven't been here long enough. Give it a little time."

"It's such a shame I didn't kill you. Most people die from a wound like I gave you. If things were my way, I'd be out of here and you would be in a coffin."

"What? You out roaming a dark graveyard, snatching more bones? Gathering remnants of things that never belonged to you? Sending emails to people's accounts, trying to scare them into making a wrong move, so you can take advantage of their slip-up? All that 'careful' work you put in didn't come get your desired effect. You shot me. But I'm still alive. And I have nothing more to say to you."

Brennan stood and threw a look over to Booth who stood in silence near the window. He said nothing as he watched her bang on the door, which buzzed her passage after a few moments. It closed slowly behind her, leaving Booth and Rolph alone. Walking over to Rolph, Booth snatched him up, jerking hard on his arms in the cuffs.

"Time to go back to jail Rolph," Booth said with a smile. It was time to end it all.