Author's Note: First off, thanks for all the reviews to the last chapter. Seriously, I do love to hear what you guys are thinking, and if you think I'm straying to far from the TV show, or if the storyline is bothering you, or anything like that, I encourage you to tell me. Okay, now, about this chapter...I first want to warn you that there is some bad language in this chapter, worse than usual. I'm sorry about that, but it's a part of the dialogue, and that just happens to be how the character(s) would talk. Hope no one is too offended. I don't think there's much you need to know on this one. Well, there might be, but I can't think of what it would be. Oh, one thing...there is a section of dialogue in this chapter between Booth and Angela, and just as a fun fact, I was toying for a while with the idea of making Booth the father of Angela's baby, but I thought people would freak out...maybe I'll do that in another story :-) Not proofread, I'm far to lazy. Reviews will be accepted at the end, please no flash photography, and off you go

While Temperance struggled to find the meaning hidden in the notes, Booth was across town struggling on his own to piece together information for the case. Sitting in his office, he scratched the back of his neck and then took a large gulp of now cool coffee. He glanced at the clock. It was 12:34, and by all accounts he should be at lunch right now. With a huffed sigh, he pushed himself up from his chair and headed out his office door.

He had spent his entire morning questioning the suspects for the Ophelia Stone case. First on his list that morning had been Sal Mongellio. Mongellio had been dressed in a wife-beater, the ribbed fabric of which had been stretched to its limit over the man's overly-muscled chest. He had worn ratty jeans, a large silver chain, a black leather jacket, and a Yankees baseball hat. As if the wardrobe weren't enough, Mongellio spoke in a thick Brooklyn accent and stared at Booth throughout the entire interview with bored and disdainful eyes. By the end of the interview, Booth had had the strong urge to punch him in the mouth, his mind yelling yeah, I get it, kid, you're a hard ass. But, people are dead, and I'm not in the mood to play.

Booth thought over this strong reaction after he left the room, and vaguely realized that maybe his problems with Temperance were affecting him more than he originally thought. The realization just made his mood more sour.

Overall, Mongellio hadn't yielded many results, but he gave Booth an uneasy feeling.

"Did you ever stalk Ophelia Stone?" Booth had asked at one point in the interview.

"Fuck, man, I ain't never fuckin' stalked nobody. I ain't no pussy assed shit goin' round peepin' on anybody. I got business, I fuckin' handle it, you feel me?"

The rest of the interview had taken much of the same tone. After Booth was finished, he had Mongellio held for further questioning that afternoon. He didn't know what he wanted to ask him, but the thought that he was inconveniencing the man made him feel better.

Next on the agenda had been Haley Stone. The first thing Booth noticed about her was that she looked nothing like her mother. Temperance would have been identified as being Ophelia's blood faster than this haggard looking girl with brown eyes and greasy dirty-blond hair. She smelled strongly of cigarette smoke, and as Booth sat down he would have sworn that he also caught the faint scent of weed. Her eyes were sunken, complete with deep purple circles, and her skin was sickly and aged far beyond its years.

She had seemed vague and disconnected during the interview, adding to Booth's feeling that she was high. Although she wasn't helping him yield many results, however, Booth felt a pang of sympathy for the girl. She looked so…lost.

"What can you tell me about your parents, Haley?"

"Which ones?" Haley had asked with a bitter laugh. "The two who fucked or the two who were too high to care if I ate?"

"Biological parents."

Haley rolled her eyes. "My mom was some schizoid weirdo and my dad was some kind of pervert who jumped her during a dentist's appointment or something. I don't know, ain't many people lookin' to take me to reunions."

The answer pained Booth, and he silently reminded himself to call Parker later that day.

"What is the nature of your relationship with Salvador Mongellio?"

Haley shrugged. "He's got blow."

And now, Booth was walking down the hall on his way to his third interview of the day. Theodore Lyle, Haley's biological father. After seeing how screwed up his daughter was, Booth was already feeling contempt for the man.

When Booth entered the room, Theodore Lyle looked up and Booth could see genuine concern in his eyes. He was an average looking man, with average and forgettable features. He wore simple, understated glasses, a basic polo shirt, and plain jeans. He would make a good movie extra, Booth realized. The kind of person who just easily moves into the scenery.

The interview began, and Booth quickly found Lyle to be somewhat soft-spoken, but articulate. He probably made a great therapist Booth thought. He felt himself calming down from the stress of the day even as the interview surged on.

By the time Booth reached the questions pertaining to Haley Stone, Lyle regarded him with a shocked look.

"Ophelia had a daughter?"

Booth gave him a slightly confused looked. "Yeah, your daughter."

Lyle sat back, apparently too shocked to answer. "She…I had no idea. I have a daughter? Where is she? What happened to her?"

"She was placed in the foster care system."

Lyle looked pained. "I didn't know…"

After that point in the conversation, progress more or less slowed to a halt. Booth told the man he would give him some time alone with his thoughts and excused himself, leaving all three of his interviewees in their rooms.

He returned to his office once again and sat down with a huffed sigh. He rubbed his temples, willing the headache that was fast creeping up on him to go away. He glanced down at his phone and saw the light blinking. He pressed the button to listen to the messages.

"Booth, it's me." Temperance's voice. "I just talked to Ophelia, and I think we have another lead. Call me back." He heard a faint hesitation on the line, a small moment when he thought she wanted to say something else. A half a second later, however, the message ended as she hung up the phone.

The next message followed quickly. "Booth, it's Angela. I wanted to talk to you about something, if you have time. Give me a call, okay?" Angela's message clicked off quickly.

Not ready to call Temperance, Booth dialed the number to Angela's office. She answered on the third ring.

"Angela Montenegro," the voice was cool and professional.

"Hey, Angela, it's Booth."

"Oh, hey, Booth," she responded, her voice immediately returning to a casual, friendly tone.

"I got your message. What's going on?"

"I just wanted to talk to you later, if you have some time, not about the case. Maybe we could get some dinner if you have time?"

For a moment Booth felt strange. He had never really hung with Angela alone, only in a group. Really only when Temperance was around. "Yeah, sure, that sounds okay…" Booth answered, looking at his watch. "How does 6 sound?"

"Sounds perfect," Angela answered. They worked out a place to meet and hung up the phone.

Gathering his courage, Booth called Temperance next.

"Brennan."

"Hey, Bones, got your message, what's up?"

"I spoke to Ophelia this morning and she told me that our victim matches one that is in a book which hasn't been published yet. The only one who's read the manuscript so far is her editor…" Booth heard Temperance ruffling through papers on her desk. "…Danny Roslynn."

"Wow, great work, Bones. I have him picked up and brought in."

The two shared an awkward silent moment.

"So…good," Temperance said.

"Yeah."

Sitting silent again, Temperance and Booth couldn't help but remember how it had been. At the beginning of the case, how they spoke so easily with one another…Temperance remembered the languid pointless conversations the two had shared, how Booth had told her about Parker's future job ambitions…

Eventually the silence stretched awkwardly long, and Booth broke it. "Okay, well, I'll talk to you later, then."

"Right. Bye."

They hung up the phone.

Booth had Danny Roslynn brought in that afternoon, making him Booth's final interview before meeting Angela. The man was fidgety and acted agitated, behaviors which instantly flagged in Booth's mind. For the most part the man avoided Booth's questions, and by the time the interview was over, Booth felt uneasy. By the time 5:45 rolled around, Booth told Roslynn that they were done for the day, but informed him that he would be coming back the next day for further interviewing.

Booth gathered his things and headed for the parking lot. He unlocked his car and settled into the driver's seat, letting the heater blow cold air on his legs as the engine warmed up. He closed his eyes for a moment while he waited for his car to warm up enough to pull off, and he let his mind wander over the suspects in the case. He had not only told Roslynn he would be back the next day, but he had recalled Mongellio and Haley as well. In Booth's opinion Lyle had issues, but he wasn't a killer.

When the gauge of Booth's car had moved into a comfortable position, Booth put the car in drive and pulled out of his parking spot, turning to go on the highway so he could meet Angela.

He couldn't keep his thoughts off the case as he drove. Mongellio had made him uneasy. He obviously felt no need to hide the fact that he was violent, which in a sense made Booth feel better; if the man really was the killer, he probably would have tried to conceal it a bit more. Haley was a possibility as well; she was lost and apathetic toward life, and based on her previous record, murder was about the only thing she hadn't been convicted of. Roslynn gave Booth the creeps as well.

Booth saw Angela's car when he pulled up at the restaurant, so he quickly parked his SUV, locked the doors, and tucked the keys into his pocket. He walked in and found that Angela already had a table.

"Hey, Booth," she said as he approached and sat down.

"Angela, you're looking lovely this evening," Booth said with a charm smile.

Angela laughed. "Yeah, sure, I have that glow, right?"

Booth gave her a strange look. "Glow?"

Angela looked at him for a moment before her brain caught up. "Oh, right, you haven't heard." She tossed her hands out in a mock ta-da! gesture. "I'm pregnant."

Booth looked surprised. "You're pregnant?"

Angela nodded, sipping her water. "Yeah, but don't dwell. We'll get to that."

Booth gave her a look as the waiter approached. The two glanced quickly at the menus and placed their orders. When the man left the table, the two returned their attention to one another and Angela spoke again.

"The first thing I wanted to talk to you about was Tempe."

Booth swallowed a gulp of his water.

"Look, I know what happened."

"I figured."

"Yeah, but that's not what I'm talking about."

Booth glanced back up at her and saw genuine concern in her eyes.

"I'm worried about her. She's been staying with me since the break-in, and last night…well, she had some kind of a nightmare. I heard her and went into the living room and she was crying and shouting…"

Booth looked momentarily surprised, his mind returning to the night when he had broken into Temperance's apartment, how she had been nearly hysterical when he got there. "She's still having nightmares?"

"You knew?"

"Well, no, I knew she had one or two…I happened to get there one night when she was shouting, too. Could you hear what she was saying?"

Angela shifted in her seat. "Yeah…some of it anyway. She was screaming 'no,' and then I hear her say…something about you."

"Me?"

"She screamed 'Mommy.' That's what woke me up. Then she yelled my name, and then yours. She said your name, like, three times, I think. Then she screamed 'Hodgins,' and 'no, no, no.' Then she was just crying until I woke her up."

"Mommy?"

Angela nodded.

"Would she tell you what the dream was about?"

Angela shook her head. "She just kept saying it was no big deal, but it really scared me. I'd never seen her like that."

Booth remembered the disconcerting feeling he had had when he broke into Temperance's apartment during her nightmare.

"How long has this been going on?"

"She told me she'd been having dreams about the case since it started."

Booth looked shocked again. "They deal with the case? She hasn't been sleeping all this time?"

Angela nodded. "I'm scared. This isn't healthy. She needs a break or something…I mean, this isn't her. She needs to get away."

Booth nodded his agreement, unsure of what to say.

Angela reached across the table and rested her hand on Booth's. "Look, I know it's weird between you guys right now, but I need you to help me with this. All things aside, she's our friend, and we need to help her."

"Absolutely."

"So what can we do?"

Neither knew. While they were thinking, their food arrived and they began eating.

"What did she say when she woke up when you were there?" Angela asked.

"She was terrified. I don't think she even knew who I was at first. She was just crying, saying that I had…died, right in front of her. Then she was saying that you weren't okay, and she kept looking at her hands, and she kept trying to hide them."

Angela, feeling slightly uncomfortable with the thought that Temperance had dreamed about something bad happening to her, looked up in surprise when Booth mentioned Temperance's hands. "Hands…that was another thing. When I woke her up the first thing she did was stick her hands under her back. It was like she was hiding them. She finally pulled them out before I went back to bed, but now that you mention it, I don't know that she ever looked at them."

"So, what does that mean?"

Angela shrugged. "It must mean something."

They were quiet for a moment, thinking. "Maybe it's a Macbeth thing."

Angela looked up. "Macbeth?"

Booth shrugged. "I don't know. If these dreams are dealing with the case, it might have something to do with Macbeth. I mean, when we got the first note, Temperance compared it to Hamlet. It's a stretch but…I don't know."

Angela nodded, and another long silence ensued.

"So…you're pregnant?"

Angela looked up and smiled. "Um, yeah. I guess no one told you about that yet."

"Who's the father?"

"Jack."

"Hodgins?"

Angela nodded.

Booth nodded back. "How do you feel about that?"

Angela sighed. "Completely freaked out. I know it might seem weird, but I was wondering if I could, you know…talk to you about it a little? I mean, where you have a son and everything…"

Booth smiled, feeling slightly touched. "Sure, Angela."

Angela smiled back, relieved.

"When Rebecca told me she was pregnant…I was scared, too."

"You were?"

"Of course I was. Everyone is."

"What if I'm no good at this? I mean, it's one thing to screw up my own life, but a baby's?"

Booth smiled. "You're going to be fine, Angela. When the baby gets here, you'll figure it out."

"What if I don't?"

"You will. Trust me. I felt the same way you did before Parker was born. I even threw up on my way to the hospital."

"You did?"

"Well, yeah, but don't spread it around."

Angela smiled, and Booth continued. "After he was born the nurses brought him in and handed him to Rebecca. And I was scarred to death, because he was right in front of me, and I still didn't have any idea what to do. I mean, he was there, and I still didn't know how to be a dad. But then…" Booth smiled widely as he remembered, "then she handed him to me. And he was just so small, right there in my arms. His little head just fit in the palm of my hand, and he was wriggling his little legs…and he was this whole little person, with fingernails, and toes…and it was the most amazing moment. And he yawned and stretched his arms…and I knew."

"Knew what?"

"I was a dad. It was just so clear, I didn't know why I had been so scared. I was a dad. I mean, it's not like I knew right then how do everything, but at that moment I knew I'd figure it out. I'd do whatever it took to figure it out."

Angela nodded, feeling warmed by Booth's memory.

"You're going to be amazing, Angela. You're warm, you're loving…that's a very lucky kid."

Angela smiled gratefully. "It's just so…"

"Terrifying?"

Angela smiled and nodded.

"Of course it is. And that's okay. It'll always be terrifying." Booth smiled again. "But it's a wonderful kind of terror."

Angela smiled again. "Thank you, Booth."

"So, how's Hodgins taking it?"

Angela sighed. "Well, better than I did, I guess."

Booth nodded. "He's scared, too, you know."

"I know."

Booth nodded.

The waiter came back then and cleared their now empty plates. Booth paid the check, saying it was his congratulations to her, and the two stood up and prepared to leave. They headed to their cars, the night air nipping at their skin as they went.

"Thanks again, Booth," Angela said.

Booth gave her a lazy smile. "Sure."

"So, you'll think about what we can do for Temperance?'

Booth nodded.

"Okay. I guess I'll see you later then."

"Okay. Night, Angela, and congratulations again."

"Thanks."

And with that, the two got in their cars and left the restaurant.

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