Author's Note: Thanks for all the reviews to the last chapter! Normally, this is the part of the author's note where I apologize that its taken me so long to update and I promise to do better, but come on, we all know better than that. As it happens, the coming week is looking like an absolute nightmare for me between school, internship, work, and my LSATs on Saturday...augh! Anyway, not that you care about any of that, but the point is it could be a while before the next chapter is up. I promise I'll try to work fast, though. I think I've got the ending pretty much worked out, and so I'm going to try to move things along a bit. As far as this chapter goes, I hope you like it, and as always if there is something that you think doesn't work or if you have an idea of something that should happen, just let me know. Okay, go ahead and read.

"Do we have to treat her like a suspect?"

"It's just normal protocol, Bones. She's our main lead. Whenever we catch this guy and bring him to trial, we're going to need her testimony. If we don't follow proper procedure, this interview can be deemed inadmissible." Booth walked around his desk quickly, grabbing a notebook and pen.

"Agent Booth?" a voice said from the hallway. Booth looked up. "Ms. Stone is ready in interview room two." Booth nodded and he and Temperance made their way down the hall.

Booth entered the room through the heavy metal grey door, smiling at Ophelia as he entered. He laid his notebook on the table as Temperance seated herself in a chair where she could watch the interview on a screen.

"Ms. Stone, you've been informed of your rights?" Booth asked, his manner cool and professional.

"Yes, I have."

"And you understand that although you have not been named a suspect, you still have the right to an attorney?"

"Yes."

"And you wish to waive that right at this time?"

"I do."

Booth nodded, opening his notebook. He then cleared his throat and continued. "How long have you been an author?"

"I've written all my life. I was first published in grade school."

"And you decided at that point to make it your career?"

"No, at that point I didn't really know what I wanted to do. I was first paid for some pieces I wrote when I was just out of high school. It was easy money, and I liked writing, so I wrote in my free time and eventually I had a book. It got published and I became a writer. I guess it was never really a conscious choice, just something that happened."

Booth smiled and nodded. "And, to date, how many books have you published?"

Ophelia hesitated, adding in her head. "Um, eight, I think? No—nine. I've published nine. I also have one that I'm working on."

"So of the ten books that you've either published or are working on, how many are mysteries?"

"Eight. My first two books were novels."

Booth glanced back at this notes, noting that her statements confirmed what he had found earlier. "Did you attend college?" Booth's tone was easy now, speaking as if they were just friends having a conversation. Temperance recognized this as a means of making the interviewee feel more comfortable.

"I went for two semesters and then dropped out."

"Where did you attend?"

"A community college," she said dismissively.

"Why did you drop out?"

Ophelia hesitated, and her eyes left Booth's. "Personal reasons," she said, after a pause.

Booth nodded and made a small note on his pad. "Were you raised in the D.C. area?"

Temperance saw Ophelia stiffen, and she remembered how the woman had reacted when they were at lunch together. "No," Ophelia answered, her tone cold.

Booth's eyes flicked up to meet hers. "Where were you raised?"

"New York."

"City?"

"Yes." Ophelia's tone had lost its friendly quality.

Booth noticed the shift in mood, and mental making a note of it, he switched gears. "What year did you publish the book The Darkness Beneath?"

Ophelia thought for a moment, then answered. "I published it about five years ago. It came out in the summer."

"How old were you when you published your first book?"

"25."

"And your second?"

"28."

"And your third?" He asked, making his tone sound almost bored, as if these were questions he simply had to ask.

"33."

Booth glanced up. "Why wait so long between the second and the third?"

Ophelia sat uncomfortably stiff. "Personal reasons. Things were going on and I didn't have much time to write."

Booth nodded. "What kinds of things were going on?" He was crossing a line and he knew it, but he decided to risk it anyway.

"I was ill."

"With?"

"I'd prefer not to say."

"Of course," Booth said. "So you have a five year gap between books two and three. You also said that your first two books were novels and your third was a mystery. Why the genre shift?"

"Just an idea I came up with. It turned out that my mystery stories were more popular than my fictions, so I kept writing them."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that."

Booth nodded. "How do you get the inspiration for your books?"

"I don't know. I get it everywhere. Everything and everyone has a story. Once you realize that, once you see that a single interaction with a stranger can alter the course of your entire life, you find ideas for books everywhere."

Booth smiled, looking in her eyes. She was passionate about this, her writing, and it struck him again how very much she reminded him of Temperance. "Do your books have a large fan base?"

She gave him a sad smile. "Probably not. I've been deemed a bit esoteric, I'm afraid. A bit more obscure. I do get some fan mail, though, so I guess I have some fans out there."

"I've actually read one of your books. It was good."

"Thank you."

"Do you have any family living in the area?"

"No." Her tone was clipped again.

"Have you ever been married?"

"No."

"Do you have any children?"

Ophelia hesitated.

After a moment, Booth leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Ms. Stone?"

"Yes, one. I have a daughter."

Booth, intrigued by this information, did his best to keep his tone smooth. "And where is she living?"

"I don't know," she almost whispered. "She's grown now."

"You don't keep in contact?"

"Due to my…illness…she was taken from me when she was young and placed in the foster care system. I tried to find out what happened to her, but they made it hard. She grew up without me."

"I'm very sorry," Booth said, and he meant it.

Ophelia just nodded. Booth cleared his throat again. "How long have you live in the D.C area?"

"About 10 years."

Booth nodded, made another note, and turned the page in his notebook. When the new white sheet lay ready before him, he looked up at Ophelia. When he saw startled him. Her eyes were wide, as if she were in pain, and she was looking intently at his notebook.

"Ms. Stone…?"

"Could you…could you please close your notebook?"

Booth looked at her strangely as her face remained fixed, contorted in pain. She raised a shaky hand and placed it on her forehead, slowly lowering her eyes closed.

Booth carefully lifted the cover and closed the notebook, all the while studying Ophelia. From her seat in front of the screen, Temperance watched with equal interest.

When the notebook was closed, Ophelia opened her eyes and exhaled a deep breath. "Thank you." When she looked at Booth's quizzical gaze, she sighed and said, "I'm sorry. I have a…problem with blank paper." Her eyes began to dart around the room.

"Doesn't that make it difficult for you to be a writer?"

Her eyes were still roaming, not taking the time to settle on any one surface. "Are we done, Agent Booth?"

"Um, yeah, I guess we're done for today. You understand that I may need to speak with again as the case progresses."

"Yes, yes, whatever you need," Ophelia said quickly.

With a nod Ophelia stood and Booth opened the door and allowed her to exit the room. She was down the hall quickly, and soon she had left.

Booth walked to where Temperance had been watching and gave her a look. "What do you think that was about?"

After finishing with Ophelia, Booth and Temperance headed back to Booth's office.

"So," Booth said as he closed the door behind them, "what do you think?"

"Interesting that she has a daughter."

Booth nodded. "I'll run a search through the system. I doubt we'll get a whole lot, though, records for children in the foster care system can be tough to navigate, especially if the child was eventually adopted."

Temperance nodded. "I wonder why she was placed in foster care?" Booth glanced up and

Temperance shrugged. "Where's the father? Other family members?"

"Well, Bones, you know she really doesn't seem that connected to her family, if she even has any."

"When we had lunch the other day she mentioned that her family was in Chicago, or at least she thought they were."

Booth nodded, scribbling a note. "We'll see what we can find. What about fans?"

"What about them?"

"Well, she writes mysteries. Maybe some crazy fan is behind all this because they wanted to make it real."

Temperance nodded her agreement. "That could be worth checking out. I can call her and ask if she'll let us look through some fan mail if you want."

"Couldn't hurt. Besides, it seems she responds better to you than she does to me."

"Maybe while I'm at it I can ask about her reaction to your notebook."

"Now that's definitely something I'd like to have an explanation for."

At that moment, Booth's phone cut into their conversation with a loud and instant ring.

"Booth. Yes…uh huh…oh, great! Yeah, I'll be there. 15 minutes? Great. Yeah. Thanks, Jimmy…right." Booth hung up the phone and gave Temperance a 100 watt grin. "We are going to go celebrate. C'mon, grab your stuff, I'm taking you out to dinner."

Temperance quirked an eyebrow at him. "What are we celebrating?"

"My car's finally fixed! C'mon, we'll go pick it up and then we'll get some food to celebrate the wonder of the internal combustion engine." Booth and Temperance gathered their things and headed for Temperance's car.

Somewhere in the journey between Booth's office and the car, Temperance became aware of the fact that Booth was walking at her side with his hand resting comfortably on her lower back. He was also stepping slightly ahead of her occasionally so that he could hold open doors for her.

His actions did not alarm Temperance nearly as much as her own failure to notice them sooner. How had she become so accustomed to him? And yet, even as she marveled at her own failure to notice what was going on, she realized that she felt no desire to tell him to stop. Normally a man touching her this way and holding doors for her felt patronizing. Why was it different just because Booth was the one who was touching her?

For a brief second she felt her brain lapse into a scientific explanation for what was happening. Booth was her partner; he had saved her life before, so naturally she felt comfortable with him. She knew she was safe. Perhaps she was alright with him being this close to her because she trusted him at a primal level. And yet, even as her brain ran through evolutionary and scientific reasons, she felt the desire to just let it go, to just let it be. She refused to acknowledge the fact that where Booth was concerned she was defining things less and less.

Booth picked up his SUV, after which, as promised, he and Tempe went to dinner. They talked easily, laughed often, and almost forgot the horrors of the case which they were working on. Life seemed lighter, if only for a little while, and it was a break that both Temperance and Booth were immensely grateful for. When the meal had finally ended and they were starting to draw menacing looks from the wait staff for sitting at the table for two hours, Temperance and Booth got up to leave. They headed back to the parking lot, pulling out their keys for their respective cars.

"Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow," Booth said. "I'll run those checks we talked about and call you if anything comes up."

Temperance nodded. "And I'll call Ophelia. Hopefully we'll get some answers soon."

Booth gave her a lazy grin. "Are you kidding? With the two of us on the case it's just amazing that we haven't got it all wrapped up already."

Temperance laughed slightly, and Booth continued to smile. Stepping forward slightly, he pulled Temperance into an easy hug. He stepped back slightly and the two stopped laughing when he looked her in the eyes. His voice was quieter and decidedly more serious when he spoke. "Are you going to be okay tonight?"

She gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile as she ordered her heart to calm down. "Yeah, I'm going to be fine. I'm going to Angela's for a while, actually."

Booth looked at her a moment longer and then nodded as if he had seen something that satisfied him. "Okay. Call me if you need anything." And with that he leaned down and gave Temperance a quick peck on the cheek. Never breaking his casual stride, he released her and turned back to his SUV. "Cya later, Bones!" he called as he climbed into his vehicle.

Temperance, a bit stunned, waved back. "Yeah, see ya." She climbed into her own car and fastened her seatbelt, watching Booth back away in her peripheral vision. She put her own car in gear then and started to head toward Angela's. Her mind was not on the road, however. Instead her brain was insistently screaming, 'did he just kiss me?'

If the mood strikes you, I'd love to hear what you think