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Chapter 3

Booth took a deep breath, finally getting a good look at the puzzle. "She's part of the Leechtainer Royal Family?" He asked as he pointed at the now-sleeping child.

"Liechtensteiner," she corrected him softly before nodding slowly. "Dr. Oloff's daughter, Hannah, was the chief babysitter of Princess Gallen Isabella Stephania of Liechtenstein, the daughter of the youngest son of the Regent Prince. And as far as the entire world is concerned, this child was killed in that fire."

"Except she didn't, really…" Booth added, voicing his thoughts out loud as he tried to figure everything out.

"No, she didn't. Hannah locked herself with the baby inside the family art gallery, which was fireproof. The gallery, however, was designed to save the art from fires, but not people. They had both been unconscious for thirteen hours due to lack of oxygen when they were found, three days after the castle was raided. Hannah's father found them, and hid the two at a Swiss hospital near the border; only Dr. Johansenn and I were told of the fate of the youngest member of the Royal Family. Three days later, Hannah was kidnapped from her hospital bed, and her remains were found in Austria five days later."

"Let me guess, burnt to a crisp?" Booth stood up and started pacing; he wasn't good at passive storytelling, so he started sifting through the pictures he saw on the bed until finding a picture marked Hannah.

"Yes, seems to be the exact same M.O., same type of fire, except I can't tell for sure until Hodgins looks at the evidence," she said as she pushed a vial with carbonized—something or other at him. "A small network was setup to hide and care for this child," and now all of them were dead, Bones added silently and he felt a shiver down his spine.

"Bones, what did you get yourself into?" Booth's voice was not accusing, just extremely concerned.

"I have been calling the baby Hannah, because Gallen is too conspicuous. Hannah Oloff was the first one to give her life to save this child. She was held and tortured for five days, Booth." Her voice was filled with emotion, and that was so rare for her that he felt something in him breaking, imagining what she and Hannah Oloff had been through.

He saw an autopsy report with the words 'indicator of torture' underlined several times, along with big red circles that he could recognize from the pictures of the remains. Then he saw a few more vials on the bed, as well as handwritten notes, typed reports, pictures, newspapers, it was all overwhelming…

… and unorganized. Which was very, very uncharacteristic, considering that this was a woman that carefully catalogued even the smallest of human remains in drawers labeled accordingly. "How—how long have you had her?"

She rubbed her forehead with her free hand. "Two—no, four days, I think. Different time zones, and—I haven't really slept much, Booth. I am afraid someone will come for her again, and I won't be able to protect her."

He was tempted to ask her just how different the time zones were, to account for a two-day discrepancy in her answer, but he decided against it, holding out his arms instead.

She stared at him confused, "What? Is this another guy hug moment?"

Booth snorted, "No, the baby. Hand me the baby."

"Why didn't you say so?"

"I made a motion," he repeated it for her sake. "This, in parent-speak, means hand over the now sleeping child."

Bones looked at the baby first and seemed to realize Hannah had indeed fallen asleep again. Then she glanced back at him, then back at the baby before finally surrendering the sleeping infant. Booth carefully picked up Hannah, before placing her back on the bassinet that was too small to comfortably hold a six-month-old infant. "It's too small, I know," Bones said, still having not moved since handing him the baby. "I didn't know what to get, and this was the only thing the hotel had—is it really bad? Am I endangering her?" Her voice was rising with her fear and newfound paranoia, so Booth was forced to hold his finger to his mouth.

"Shh, you're going to wake her up. You're exhausted, suffering from sleep deprivation," he pointed out as he moved to the head of the enormous bed, pulling back the covers. Holding them up, he stared at his partner. "This, by the way, is the human signal for 'get in the giant bed' if you don't recognize it."

"I can't sleep, I still haven't told you everything," she protested even as she moved, passing under his arm.

"Bones, your storytelling right now is as accurate and useful as Parker on a sugar high the day after Halloween. Get some sleep, I'll go through this evidence and get some feel for this whole ordeal, and you can finish telling me the rest in the morning."

Bones' eyes closed as soon as her head hit the pillow. "No phones," she muttered, already dozing off. He covered her and started to pick up all the items on the bed. A smile crossed his face as he heard an instant snore coming from Bones, realizing it wasn't entirely unattractive. He'd seen her dozing off in cars and planes, but it was rare. And he had definitely never seen her this tired, or this concerned.

As he finished picking up the items, he stopped to glance at the other sleeping form in the room. She was a gorgeous baby, thin strands of blonde hair so light you could barely see them unless the light hit them just right. And there was just something about this child that he appreciated, even though he didn't comprehend it—he had seen Bones react to children in many ways, from curiosity to concern. He had also noticed that the concern seemed to be exclusive to orphans and foster kids; he didn't need a psychology degree to recognize that Bones tended to align more closely to those children because she identified with them. But actually take temporary custody of one?

Booth sighed, eager to get some answers. He was glad that Hodgins had commandeered his cell phone, because he was fighting an urge to call someone, anyone who could help him make sense of this mess.