Author's Note: Thanks for all the reviews to the last chapter! I know its been a long time since I updated, and I'm still going with my usual excuse that I haven't had a day off work in quite a while. Sorry! I'd say that I'll try to do better, but we all know that that doesn't usually mean much. Okay, now, about this chapter, based on the reviews I've gotten so far, something that happens here is going to surprise a lot of people. That's a good thing. I hope everyone has a positive reaction. I'm trying to make this fic different from other ones by making the characters do new things. I hope everyone is enjoying it. Anyway, go ahead and read!

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After a brief inspection of Temperance's door, which had somehow managed to get through the ordeal with only superficial scratching and scuffing, Booth settled back onto the couch and eventually he fell asleep. Temperance returned to her bedroom, leaving the door open and mentally cursing herself for her desire to do so.

Booth slept fitfully and woke up often. Finally, at three am when he was awoken by a muffled sound from Temperance's room, he pushed himself off the couch and walked in to check on her. She was deeply asleep, her eyelids fluttering slightly with R.E.M., her face a strange mix of slack relaxation and tension. For a moment, he felt his chest tightening just as it had earlier. He hated this. He hated that he couldn't protect her from the horror that raged behind her eyelids and in her mind.

Sighing, he gingerly sat down on the edge of her bed, allowing himself the opportunity to study her. He didn't do this often, but somehow the intimacy of the situation, being in her bedroom, silent, as she slept, made him feel as though he was free to observe, perhaps even free to softly touch her hair, her cheek. 'At least if she's asleep she won't kick my ass for touching her,' he mentally chuckled at his own thoughts, but even as he did so, he knew it wasn't true. Temperance wouldn't attack him for caring about her. He knew that. He knew that while she usually kept people at a comfortable distance, she would allow him closer. She had let him glimpse past the wall.

Tonight had been a big step for them. It wasn't the first time she had allowed him to comfort her, but somehow it still felt different. Tonight was special. Although he had hated to see her so obviously fearful, he couldn't deny that he had also enjoyed the closeness it had afforded him. He liked having her in his arms, even if the reasons were less than ideal.

Yes, he was attracted to her. He knew that. He had always known that. Why wouldn't he be? She was beautiful, smart, and even funny, in her own way. And she made him feel strong. She made him feel as though he could do anything. He knew this was vain, a shallow reason for caring about her, but it was true. When she was near him, he felt certain that he could do anything. She made him feel important.

He wanted to make her feel the same way she made him feel. He wanted to let her know how important she was, how powerful she was. He wanted to show her what she was capable of; he wanted to remind her of her genius. He wanted to take her hand and show her off to the world. And, at the moment that he had this realization, Temperance shifted in her sleep and released a soft snort. Booth almost laughed out loud.

He turned and rested his legs on the bed, leaning back against one of her extra pillows on top of the blankets. The quiet of the room began to soothe him then. The soft hum of the fan in the corner began to lull him to sleep, coaxing the awareness from his mind. After a few moments of struggling, he fell asleep.

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Temperance woke up the next morning to find her head resting on something firm and warm. The thing was also slightly rising and falling. As her mind began to clear, she lifted her head and glanced at the object. 'Man,' her brain registered. Another glance gave further understanding. 'Booth.' She was confused for a moment, but the events of the night before came back to her. The dream. Booth breaking in. Comforting her. Staying the night.

She vaguely wondered what he was doing in her bed, but the thought slipped away as he began to stir.

Lazily opening his eyes, he glanced at her. "Bones?" he yawned. "Time?"

She glanced at the clock. "6:45." Her voice was heavy with sleep.

He stretched slightly, waking up more fully. "Hmm, I guess I need to get going. I'm supposed to pick Parker up at 9." He yawned again.

She nodded in response to him, falling back onto her pillow as he began to stand up.

"Hey, hey, what are you doing?" he asked as she gathered the covers under her chin.

"Going back to sleep," she mumbled with her eyes closed.

"Oh no you don't," he replied, grabbing the comforter and attempting to wrench it from her grasp. "If I have to get up, so do you."

"No I don't. It's Saturday. It's my day off. And it's my house. I can sleep if I want to."

"But…that's not fair," he argued lamely.

She opened one eye. "How is that not fair?"

"Because I have to get up."

"So?"

"So…so if I have to be awake and tired, you should have to be awake and tired, too."

"That's the most illogical thing I've ever heard," she answered, rolling over and gathering the blankets tighter.

"Bones…" he whined, tugging the sheets again.

"See you later, Booth. Thanks for coming over. Have fun with Parker."

"Bones!"

"Hmm?" she said through a yawn.

"Get up!"

"No."

"Get up!"

"No."

"It's not a question, it's…an order!"

"It's not happening."

"Bones!"

Turning over so she could face him, she smiled. "Argue all you want. In the end, you still have somewhere to be, and I still get to go back to sleep." And with that, she climbed out of bed. They then walked into the living room and, after gathering Booth's few things, she walked him to the door.

"Thanks again for coming by," Temperance said, her voice slightly quieter than usual. "I appreciate it."

He gave her a lazy grin. "My pleasure, ma'am." His fake Southern accent was laughable. He stepped forward slightly and gave her a friendly hug, and then was out the door. "Talk to you later!" he said over his shoulder as he retreated.

She smiled. "Talk to you later."

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Temperance headed back to bed after Booth left, but after an hour and a half of dozing she gave up on getting any more real sleep. She stretched out in her bed, trying to remember the last Saturday when she had just relaxed. Rolling over through the blankets, she sluggishly climbed out of bed.

She cracked her window open slightly before heading to the bathroom. The day was crisp and cool, the last remaining fragments of summer more or less evaporated. The trees had begun to turn. A soft breeze whispered across her fingers and she smiled, pushing the window more fully open. The day was bright and clear, and she stuck her head out slightly, swallowing a large gulp of air. She closed her eyes as the coolness stroked her skin. She loved days like today, when death seemed like a nonexistent thing so very far away.

She walked to the bathroom where she took a quick shower and brushed her teeth. She surveyed her make-up for a moment and thought through her clothing options. 'To hell with it,' she said to herself. And with that she grabbed a pair of sweatpants and a tee shirt.

She brushed her hair out straight, deciding she would just let it air dry, and grabbed a pair of socks. She noted that she really needed to invest in a new pair of running shoes as she jammed her feet into them, and after grabbing an old college sweatshirt she stuck her keys in her pocket and walked out the door.

She walked down the street a few blocks to find a copy of the morning paper and after purchasing a copy, she headed back to her apartment. She kicked off her shoes when she got in the door and settled down at her table. She brewed a pot of coffee, poured a bowl of cereal, and spread the black and white pages out in front of her.

The news was really always the same, she realized as she read. Gas prices were going up. Some inner city kid shot another inner city kid. The Middle East was a mess.

After finishing the paper, Temperance cleaned up her breakfast and stuck the dishes in the sink. She would wash them later, she decided, and after gathering the newspaper back into a semi-neat pile, she reached for her files on the case.

She left the window open as she worked, and although the occasional breeze ruffled her papers, she opted not to close it. She liked the air. It was as though the clear freshness of it cleared her mind; she felt as though she were making actual progress on the case.

Temperance worked for hours, barely noticing how much time was passing. In the course of her day, she learned that in the book The Darkness Beneath, the person found in the grave had been murdered with an icicle. She referred to her notes on the body. This was a definite possibility, she noted. She wrote a note to herself, reminding her to check this out more fully on Monday when she had access to the bones.

This discovery was not an isolated incident. The second discovery came when Temperance was flipping through another Ophelia Stone book which she had picked up in the book store. It was titled A Time to Plant. The discovery that caught Temperance's attention in this instance was the fact that in the book a victim was found in the woods. In a fetal position.

By the time 6:30 rolled around, Temperance had managed to find quite a few linking factors between the murders and Ophelia's books. One this was for sure—this was becoming too much of a coincidence. It was becoming increasingly obvious that the killer, whoever he or she may be, was using Ophelia's books as a sort of guide.

Although she had spent some time working, Temperance made no progress on the notes sent to her and Booth by the killer. There was no mention of notes in the books, which left Temperance feeling more than a little confused. It was one of the few pieces that seemed totally out of place.

She was completely engrossed in her own thoughts when she heard a knock at her door. Rising to open it, she found Angela standing on the other side.

"Hey, Ange, I almost forgot you were coming."

"Well, gee, don't I feel welcome," Angela replied. Although the comment had been made in jest, there was a slight edge to it that made Temperance step back.

Angela's arms were full of pizza, soda, and chips. Temperance helped to gather the things as she allowed Angela in.

"Thanks for bringing all this."

"Sure," Angela said, the edge gone. "And I also brought us a movie. I don't know if you want to watch it or not, but I figured I'd take the chance." Temperance looked at the title on the DVD case. The Object of My Affection. It wasn't a movie Temperance had seen.

"Great, thanks," Temperance answered as she glanced at the label on the soda Angela had just handed her. "Caffeine free, diet? What's the point?"

Angela laughed slightly in response. After clearing a place at the table and spreading everything out, Angela walked over to the DVD player and slid the disk in.

"So, are you feeling any better?" Temperance asked, her voice slightly tentative.

Angela sighed. "I'm not sick." Her voice had no edge to it, but Temperance saw the line of her back become slightly more rigid as she squatted in front of the TV adjusting the volume on the movie.

"It's okay to be sick, Ange."

Angela shook her head. "No, you don't understand. I'm not sick. Honestly. I'm not." Angela rose and walked back toward Temperance, who was sitting on the couch with a piece of pizza and a soda.

Temperance glanced at her. "Ookay…then why do you seem sick?"

Angela sighed. "It's…nevermind. Do you feel like watching the movie?"

Temperance shrugged. "Sure, sorry I brought it up," she mumbled. Angela didn't reply, chosing instead to grab her own piece of pizza and drop down onto the couch beside Temperance.

The movie was about a young woman who was dating a man she wasn't all that crazy about while living with her gay best friend. Then, when she finds out that she is pregnant part way through the movie, her life becomes even more confusing when she decides that she wants her best friend to help her raise the child instead of the baby's father.

Temperance watched the movie for a while, but eventually found that she had grown bored and that her thoughts were being increasingly drawn back to the case. She looked over at Angela, who seemed to be watching the movie intently, and then pushed herself up off the couch to go back to working with her notes.

When the movie ended, Angela clicked it off and then sat for a moment more on the couch, not saying anything. Temperance gave her a sideways glance. "As good as you'd hoped?"

Angela shrugged. "I guess."

"Well, as long as your excited about it..." Temperance said, the sarcasim evident in her voice.

"It was just a movie, what do you want me to say?" Angela snapped.

Temperance was more than a little taken aback. "Whoa, calm down, Ange, I was just kidding."

Angela gave no response.

"What is with you tonight?" Temperance asked, growing exaspirated.

Angela took a deep breath. "Nothing. Nothing's wrong. I'm just tired, that's all." She looked at Temperance as she said it, but when the anthropologist just looked at her in response, she gave a slight smile. "Just some stuff on my mind."

Temperance nodded. "Okay, I can understand that."

Angela nodded. "Sooo..." her eyes scanned the room, looking for a point of conversation. "What happened to your door, by the way?"

Temperance, who had not been prepared for the question, did her best to keep her tone neutral. "Hmm? Oh, that...it was nothing. Booth."

Angela raised an eyebrow. "Booth? What did you do to him that made him attack your door?"

Temperance shrugged. "It wasn't really a big deal."

Angela nodded, much to Temperance's surprise, seeming to accept this response. "So what's going on with you and Booth, anyway?"

"What do you mean?"

Angela shrugged. "Are you more than friends yet?" The question was asked so calmly that for a moment Temperance didn't know how to respond.

"No. We're friends. Good friends, but still just friends."

"What would happen if you became more than friends?"

"What do you mean 'what would happen'?"

"I mean if suddenly it was something...different than friendship. How do you think you guys would handle that?"

"Ummm..." Temperance found herself feeling confused. The line of questioning was unlike Angela. Normally, Angela was the one who was encouraging Temperance to change her relationship with Booth, to make it something else. "What's going on, Ange?"

"I need to talk to you about something."

Temperance turned and gave Angela her full attention. The artist seemed nervous. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," Angela said, trying to be reassuring. "It's just…"

"What?" Temperance prompted.

Angela exhaled a heavy sigh and leaned her face into her hands. "It's just….everything's wrong."

"What do you mean?"

Angela exhaled heavily again, and when she spoke her voice was little more than a whisper. "I thought I was just imagining things, you know? I figured I'd caught Zach's cold or something. I tried to ignore the fact that I didn't have the symptoms of a cold…I thought it would go away. I mean, it couldn't be what I thought it was, you know? There were always answers, but the longer it went on, the harder it was to believe those answers, and…I don't know. And I know that it's my fault, you know? Please don't think I'm a terrible person, it's just...I don't know what to do. God, Tempe, what am I going to do?"

"Angela…you're babbling. And honestly you're starting to scare me. Why don't you just tell me what's going on?"

Angela sighed again. "Oh, God, Tempe…" her voice trailed off and after a pause, as if preparing herself for her statement, she spoke again. "I think I'm pregnant."

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