(Season 10)

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It took several days, but Booth finally had a copy of all the case files he needed to check into the possible clown serial killer. The thought of a clown out there killing kids was Booth's worse nightmare. He often denied that he was afraid of clowns, but no matter how much he tried to hide it, he betrayed himself whenever he was around a clown. He was afraid of clowns and that was a fact. It had taken him a long time to figure out why, but after their case in Texas when he and Brennan had temporarily joined the circus, it came to him what his problem was. Clowns wore a lot of heavy makeup that disguised their facial features.

He relied on being able to look at someone and tell what they were thinking or at least their emotional state. That makeup kept him from reading people and that gave them an advantage over him. Under normal circumstances, that shouldn't really matter, but he knew that it could be a matter of life or death if he couldn't read someone properly. His job was dangerous enough as it was and if someone could hide what they were thinking from him then that put his life in danger as well as those he protected. Yes, he hated clowns, but he also feared them. This case was going to be a trial for him and adding that on top of what he was already going through and he was worried he would break instead of bend when he needed to.

Aubrey entered Booth's office carrying a copy of the cases that Booth had asked him to look at. His boss had wanted him to go over the case files of the dead children and then they would compare notes. So far, it all appeared to be random to him except for the clown sightings. Those were pretty specific and he was appalled that no one else had put it together before now. Four years and eleven children dead. It was bizarre. "I've gone over the cases, they're pretty random. Eleven kids, different races, some girls some boys, six states. The only pattern I see is that the murderer picks towns that aren't really big and a clown was spotted in the area just before a child's body was found. Also, the murders are happening about every 4 months." He sat down and placed his copies of the cases on the edge of Booth's desk.

Booth had been looking through the cases as well and he had found something that was so obvious, he wasn't sure why no one had noticed it. "Look at the names of the towns."

Puzzled, Aubrey picked up the copies he had and looked through them carefully. "Shit! You're kidding me . . . I don't know why I didn't notice that. It's so obvious."

The names of the towns had seemed a little odd the first time looking through the cases and something about the names started to bother him, but the second time through, when Booth started making lists on cards, the names just jumped out. "Well, if you're looking at each individual case it's not that noticeable, but I when I started to make a list of the facts that's when it became obvious to me." He held up one of his cards and read off what was written there. "Bethlehem, Pennsylvania, Babylon, New York, Canaan, New York, Bethlehem, New York, Bethel, Maine, Bethlehem, New Hampshire, Canaan, New Hampshire, Canaan, Vermont, Bethany, Connecticut, Canaan, Connecticut and Bethlehem, Connecticut."

Aubrey rubbed his hand across his mouth and knew that the case had just added another bizarre twist. He didn't like it at all. "He's picking towns with religious names and he seems to be almost obsessed with Canaan and Bethlehem. This is bad."

It was chilling as far as Booth was concerned. "We can assume he's going to continue this pattern . . . I checked and there are a couple of other towns named Canaan. Not only does Connecticut have a Canaan, but it has a New Canaan and there is Canaan Valley in West Virginia. As for Bethlehem, there is also a Bethlehem Township, in New Jersey, Bethlehem, North Carolina, and a Bethlehem in West Virginia. The killings are spaced apart about every four months and he's due to kill someone in the next two or three weeks. We need to narrow down the possibilities."

"I agree." Aubrey stood up and pointed over his shoulder. "I'm going over to the Lab and see if Angela can help with this. I'll let you know what I find out."

"Alright." After Aubrey was gone, Booth opened the first file and started to reread it. He hoped to find something that would point to the killer or at least where he might strike next. Making lists helped him focus and he would continue to look for patterns. To make things easier, he leaned forward and spaced his note cards on the right side of his desk, so he could check them as he reread the files. He needed to find more patterns. There were always patterns when you were dealing with serial killers.

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His mind on his case, Booth didn't really participate in his Gambler's Anonymous meeting like he should have. Of course, he had yet to actually tell his story, but he was going to the meetings and that meant he was working on his problem, didn't it? Still, he felt guilty afterward, but the meeting was over and all he could do was promise himself to take the next meeting more seriously, maybe finally stand up and talk about his problem.

Frustrated with the clown case, he drove home in a funk. Hannah had stumbled upon a bizarre case that no one in law enforcement had noticed. True, the killer was not concentrating his kills in one place and his deeds had been done in six states, eleven counties and eleven law enforcement agencies . . . well, the killer had done his best to hide what he was doing and that was a fact.

Once he was home, or what passed for home lately, he heated up a frozen dinner, grabbed a beer from the fridge and sat down on the couch. Not really hungry, he forced himself to eat while he flipped through the available cable channels looking for something to take his mind off of his problems. He just wished he could go home, but he knew that was impossible. He had to earn Brennan's trust again and it wasn't going to be easy. Trust was a big deal to her and once you destroyed that trust, it was almost impossible to get it back.

He missed eating dinner with his family. He missed reading to his little girl and oh how he missed holding his Bones in his arms at night. The phone rang and interrupted his thoughts. "Booth."

Hi, I know this is short notice, but Dad is out of town and I need to go back to the Lab. Could you babysit Christine tonight?

"Of course I can." Booth placed the half eaten dinner on the coffee table as well as the half bottle of beer. "I'll be right over." This would be the first time he had been home since Brennan had kicked him out and he wasn't going to turn her down. "How long do you think you'll be?"

I think I'll be away for at least two hours. No more than three. Christine is taking a bath and I didn't want to disrupt her nightly routine.

"I'm on my way." Booth ended the call, grabbed his truck keys from the bowl on the counter and left.

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By the time Booth arrived Christine was ready for bed. Eager to be with his daughter, Booth sat on the bed and read her a few fairy tales until the child fell asleep. Once Christine was properly covered to keep her warm for the night, Booth slipped quietly out of the room and headed to the kitchen to see what was in the fridge. He was soon eating some warmed up leftover vegetable stir fry and drinking a beer while watching a game on television. His stomach was blessing him for the delicious meal and he knew he had been eating too many frozen dinners lately. Booth realized that his diet had been poor since he'd separated from Brennan and he'd better fix that. Brennan's stir fry reminded him that he needed to take better care of himself or it might cause himself problems down the road.

The few hours that Brennan was away helped Booth find a little peace. He knew he wasn't back home to stay, but just being with his daughter had helped him. The funk he had been in for the last few weeks had been dragging him down and he needed to do better. He had started to take his meeting more seriously and that was a start, but he needed to earn Brennan's trust back and he needed to stop feeling sorry for himself. He had made the mess he was in and no one else was to blame. He just needed time.

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When Brennan arrived home, she found Booth sitting in the living room watching television. "Thank you for watching Christine."

"Hey no problem, any time." And he meant it. He really wanted to be of use to Brennan and his daughter and if that meant just babysitting then so be it. "All you have to do is ask."

She was a little uncomfortable. She really wanted Booth to stay, but that was impossible. He had a serious problem he needed to work on and letting him come back home wouldn't help the situation. She knew that even if her heart told her otherwise. "Thank you. I'll try not to abuse your offer."

"No, ask me anytime." Booth was grateful for the chance to prove that she could rely on him and he would make sure he was available when he could. "You doing okay? Do you need me to take care of anything while I'm here?"

She immediately thought about the leak in the hallway bathroom. "Well, it's late and I know you probably want to go home, but if you don't mind, the faucet in Christine's bathroom is dripping. It started yesterday."

Booth glanced at his watch and shook his head. "Nah, it's just nine. Let me look at the leak." Walking past her he walked down the hallway to the bathroom and noticed the dripping as soon as he was in the room. Once he was on it, he had the problem fixed in twenty minutes. "See, no problem. Tell you what, you keep a list of things that have a problem and whenever I babysit, I'll try to take care of them."

Grateful for Booth's help, Brennan nodded her head. "Thank you. I will." A little apprehensive, she wondered if Booth would try to talk her into letting him stay. Much to her surprise, he didn't. She wasn't sure if she should be relieved or sad. Once he was gone, she sat down on the couch and felt a tear slide down her cheek. She missed her husband's company so much and she hoped that someday she could trust him enough to invite him back home.

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