(The Future in the Past)

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I don't own Bones.

Oooooooooooooooo

A lot had happened in the last four months. Jared had got the job at the Fairfax County Sheriff's office and after he'd been there for two months, Booth and Brennan helped move him to an apartment in Fairfax, Virginia. He still couldn't drive, but he was within walking distance of his job and for the moment he could live without a car. He also found out that he could attend AA meetings in Fairfax and that eased his mind about leaving his brother's home.

When he had time, Booth tinkered with the car that he planned to give to his brother. He had bought it used and he'd had to replace the tires and he'd found that the fuel injector needed cleaning, but all in all the car was in good shape and should get his brother around for at least two or three years when he started to drive again.

A tip had been called in to the FBI after Christopher Pelant had died that intimated that a teacher had disappeared at Pelant's high school right before he'd graduated and the caller felt that there was a connection. The information had been given to Booth who had passed it along to Brennan. Intrigued, she researched Pelant's teacher's background and the date she had disappeared and decided to see if it was possible that the woman had been murdered. She had Angela work on it with her in their spare time and when they were ready, they asked Booth to come in to the Lab.

Standing in front of the Angelatron, Brennan gave Booth as much background information as she could. Elizabeth Howe was a guidance counselor at Christopher Pelant's high school and lived in Pitt Meadows. "In the year leading up to her writing his letter of recommendation to Stanford, Pelant was suspected of hacking into the high school's computer system to change a grade. If you read his recommendation, there is no mention of that and it actually makes him out to be a perfect candidate for Stanford. Angela analyzed the language patterns used in the letter and compared them to articles that Pelant had written for the school paper plus an essay he won an award for. His style is very clinical, clear and concise."

Angela broke into the conversation. "I read several recommendations Elizabeth had done for other students and her style was more descriptive and modified. The letter that she wrote for Pelant doesn't match the style she used when she wrote the other letters. I think Pelant wrote it right around the time Elizabeth disappeared and placed it on her computer for others to find. He wrote the letter and killed her to better his chances of getting into Stanford."

"Damn that's cold." Booth shook his head. "I think we should assume that he murdered her to get what he wanted. Is there any way we can track down where she's buried?"

Confident, Brennan nodded her had. "She was a jogger and according to her friends she had a specific route she took every day. I think we should check out that trail and see if there are any burial sites within that area. If Pelant murdered her, he could have used her routine against her. Alone in the woods, he could have killed her without being seen and he could have buried her without anyone being the wiser."

It all seemed logical to Booth and worth the search. After all, if she had been murdered then it was up to them to get her justice and her family closure. "Alright, send Hodgins out to the jogging trail and start the search. If he finds anything we can send some techs out and help him retrieve the body . . . Good work. That guy was a serial killer and he may have started in high school. God knows how many people he killed before he killed Johanssen and Krane."

Pleased that Booth agreed with them, Brennan smiled. "If Ms. Howe was murdered, we will prove it and we will find her body."

Oooooooooooooooooooo

Elizabeth Howes' body was found and after an autopsy was completed, it was determined that she had been murdered. With Clark Edison's help, it was determined that she had been killed with a sword. With a warrant and a place to search, Booth found the Japanese sword at Pelant's grandfather's house. Pelant's cousin was her grandfather's caretaker and she remembered the sword disappearing for a few days when she was in college and her grandfather being upset about it. It had reappeared on the bookshelf after being gone for a week and it had stayed there ever since. No one had cared where it had been until the present.

"So Pelant started his killing spree in high school." Disgusted, Caroline shook her head. "The little weasel probably tortured cats and dogs too. It's too bad he died of a heart attack. It would have been more satisfying to have seen the little cochon die in the electric chair."

Booth was just glad the guy wasn't still running around killing people. "As long as we couldn't prove he wasn't at home, we would have had trouble convincing a judge he was a murderer. I don't know how he was doing what he was doing, but we're damn lucky the guy dropped dead at the library with his ankle monitor at home."

"I suppose." Pelant had made them all look like fools and that didn't set right by her. "Well, like you said, he's dead and good riddance."

Lifting his coffee cup and nodding his head, Booth smiled. "I'll drink to that."

Oooooooooooooooooo

The song was so loud it could be heard on the platform. Her cheeks burning, Angela fled down the stairs and towards her office getting a reproving look from Cam as she ran past her.

You saw my pain, washed out in the rain

Broken glass saw the blood run from my veins

But you saw no fault no cracks in my heart

And you knelt beside my hope torn apart

But the ghosts that we knew will flicker from you

And we'll live a long life

She reached her computer and turned off the speakers. "So, you're back. Good." Angela had been worried about her visitor ever since he had told her good-bye the last time he'd contacted her. She'd felt he was depressed and he might do something foolish.

Hey Pookie, long time no hear.

Grateful that he wasn't dead, she let him call her Pookie without protest. "Are you alright?"

Sort of. I did something bad and it messed me up for a while, but I guess I can live with it. What I did had to be done to save someone's life, but it wasn't a good thing. Anyway, I know that I sounded a little suicidal the last time I talked to you and I worried you. I'm sorry and thank you for being worried. I don't have any family left and it's nice to know that someone might miss me if I disappeared.

"I'd miss you, so don't you dare do anything foolish." She didn't know who he was, but he was obviously in need of some attention. "You can contact me anytime you want but stop playing music over my speakers. My co-workers don't like it and it makes me look like a nut or something. Oh and quit calling me Pookie. Someone might see that. Call me Angela."

Okay, Angela. You can call me Pete. I have to go. I just wanted to let you know I'm alive and breathing. Bye for now.

"Bye." Angela sat down and stared at her monitor. She wished she could meet Pete. He was smart and he knew a lot about computer software. Of course, his habit of calling her Pookie was deplorable, but she knew she could break him of that habit if they ever met in person.

Pete smiled as he said his good-bye. He'd been depressed ever since he'd killed Pelant and it had taken him a few months to finally accept that he had killed a man and that man's blood would be forever on his hands. He wished he had Max's outlook on life. His friend was from the old school of an eye for eye, but he didn't think like that. Life was valuable and it was hard to just end a life. He'd been filled with remorse and he had finally volunteered to work at a hospice to help ease his mind. By helping sick people live what little time they had in comfort he hoped he could make up for a little of what he had done. He couldn't bring Pelant back from the dead, but he could help people who were in pain and were afraid. He read them stories, played his guitar if they wanted him to and he held their hand as they took their last breath.

He hoped that he was making a difference.

Ooooooooooooooooo

Engrossed in what he was doing, Booth didn't hear Brennan walk into the garage until she was standing next to him.

"Booth."

Startled, Booth placed his gun down on the lint free cloth and turned to look at his partner. "Hey. Is Christine in bed now? I should have gone in and read her a story, but I guess I lost track of time."

Brennan appreciated that Booth cleaned his gun at the work bench in the garage and not in the house. Christine was pulling her self up using tables and chairs and she grasped at what ever caught her attention. It was safer for Booth's gun to be out of reach of their child. "Yes, she's asleep . . . Are you almost done?"

Assembling the weapon, Booth placed it back down on the cloth. "I am now. I just need to lock it in the safe."

"You've been quiet this evening. Is anything wrong?" Brennan had noticed that Booth had barely eaten dinner that evening and he had disappeared into the garage right after the dishwasher was loaded.

"Not really . . . I talked to Jared today. He said Padme came to visit him and she stayed overnight. He thinks she might be willing to move to Fairfax and move in with him. She needs to look around at the school districts in the area and see if they need a teacher or a substitute teacher." He had been glad to hear that his brother was doing well and that he and Padme might be moving towards each other again, but he was worried that any set back would cause Jared to go back to drinking. "I want Jared to be happy, but I'm worried that he and Padme might be rushing things. He needs to keep going to his AA meetings and Padme may keep him from doing that."

Puzzled, Brennan leaned against the work bench and placed her hand on her mate's arm. "Do you think she doesn't want him to succeed?"

"No, that's not it." Booth sighed. "Jared is under a lot of pressure right now. He's still under court order not to drive. He has a new job and he's going to AA meetings trying to keep sober. It's a lot going on. If Padme moves in and things don't go well, I'm afraid he'll give up and start drinking again . . . I can't tell him what to do, but that job he has could be a jumping point to something better. I don't want him to blow it."

"I see." Brennan rubbed her hand up and down his lower arm. "He wants to stay sober, Booth and from the last conversation I had with him, he seems to be happy with the job he has. He didn't expect to get a job in law enforcement and he wants to do well . . . If Padme moves in with him, perhaps she can help him stay sober. It doesn't have to turn out badly Booth."

With a glum smile, Booth closed his gun cleaning kit, placed it on the shelf above, picked up his gun and stood up. "Yeah, I guess I'm just worrying about something that might not happen . . . Let me lock up my gun and we can go to bed. I'm tired."

Stepping away from him, Brennan could still see the worried look on his face. "Are you sure you're tired. We could have sex."

"Um, well, maybe I'm not too tired." Booth stepped closer and kissed her. "I mean if you want to make love that's fine with me." Her teasing smile made him grin, "Okay, I see what you're doing. I'm fine Bones. Really. Jared has to live his own life. We've given him support and we've helped him as much as we can, now it's up to him."

"Yes, it is." Brennan moved over to the doorway. "I'll meet you in the bedroom. We can have sex and worry about us for this evening."

Following her into the house, Booth thought about how lucky he was to have someone like Brennan in his life. She loved him and supported him and he tried to support her. They made a great team. They had for a long time.

Oooooooooooooooooo

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