Tremendous thanks to all of you who reviewed. Each one was appreciated. And thanks to all of you silent readers, I'm grateful for you too and hope the story is worth coming back for.

Disclaimer: I eagerly await their return to the small screen, but for now, I'm making do playing with them myself.


Five

Temperance lay on her back on the couch in her office staring unseeingly at the ceiling tiles above her. There were half a dozen files waiting for her in her inbox but for the first time in a long time she did not bury herself in her work. Her mind was running incessantly along one track. She had spent almost two hours examining every photograph and x-ray that Zack had taken of the remains. If she had had any doubts before this point, they were now obliterated. Every element was there for her to be able to definitively say that this murder fit the established pattern. This inevitable conclusion left her in a strange limbo. She knew precisely where this case was headed, knew almost exactly what would happen next, and yet she remained uneager to set events in motion. Of course, with a single phone call she could have the case taken from them, leaving everyone, including Booth, in the dark about what had transpired. But she couldn't do it. Booth deserved better and the remains needed her to fight for him. She was the voice for the deceased and if she refused to speak, no one else would.

A rap on the door interrupted her thoughts.

"Come in," she called, without moving.

"Bones?"

"Here," she replied, raising her arm in the air and waving her hand just a little. She arched her neck and waited for Booth to appear at the end of the couch. When he did, he gave her a small smile.

"And here, ladies and gentlemen, we find Dr. Temperance Brennan, best-selling author and forensic anthropologist, hard at work in the endless task that is counting ceiling tiles," he intoned in an announcer's voice.

"Funny," she replied and sat up. "Angela have a face?"

"Yup."

"Let's go."

Booth trailed just behind his partner as they walked the short distance from her office to that of the Jeffersonian's resident artist. He had spent the past several hours combing the FBI's unsolved case files for any murders that vaguely resembled this one. He had, unsurprisingly, come up empty-handed.

The pair entered Angela's darkened office and joined the rest of the team who had encircled the golden glow of the Angelator. Temperance gave a small nod to Angela who activated the display. Immediately, the image of a handsome, Hispanic man appeared overlaid on the digital representation of the skull. His eyes were large and dark, his nose rounded but not too large, but the most dominant feature was his strong jaw and cleft chin. Booth looked briefly at the face Angela had created but his gaze was immediately drawn to Brennan. Her eyes had widened as soon as she had seen the image and she lost some of the colour in her face. Her mouth moved in a soundless whisper and then, without warning, she turned on her heel and practically ran from the room.

On instinct, Booth followed her out the door and back down the hall towards her office. Brennan walked through the door and tried to shut it behind her but was unable to due to Booth's hand pushing the door in the opposite direction.

"Booth, not now," she huffed impatiently, her eyes burning with sudden passion.

"Yes, now. The only other time I've seen you react that way was when your mother's face showed up on the Angelator. What the hell is going on?"

"I've already told you, I can't tell you."

"Yeah, I really don't give a damn that a federal agency gave you a gag order. I want to know what has you running scared."

"I am not frightened," Temperance shot back fiercely, her eyes sparking.

"Yes, you are. What the hell is going on?"

"Until you figure it out, I can't tell you. Now let go of the door."

"Why? So you can hide out in your office for another fourteen hours?"

"No. I need to make a phone call."

"A phone call," Booth repeated incredulously.

"Yes. Go back to Angela's office. Assure everyone that I am fine and have Angela run the face through the federal employees' database."

"Federal employees? Not missing persons?"

"Trust me, Booth."

"I do."

"Good, now let go of the door."

Booth stared long and hard at the woman before him. She met his gaze evenly. Her eyes were still ablaze with anger and determination, but behind that he could see hints of fear, despite her arguments to the contrary. Nevertheless, he let go of the door and backed up so that she could close it. She did so without hesitation, leaving him in the hallway. He ran his hand over his face and laughed humourlessly. Convince the squints that she was fine? He doubted he could when he himself didn't believe it.

Meanwhile, Brennan, after listening at the door for retreating footsteps to ensure that Booth had indeed returned to Angela's office, rushed to her desk and picked up the phone, dialling the number she had memorised many years ago. It rang twice before anyone picked up.

"Hello?"

"Jake."

"Tempe. You have an ID?"

"It's Tony, Jake. It's Antonio."

"Shit," Jake swore.

The line was silent for several moments and Temperance could practically hear Jake thinking on the other end.

"I want to bring you in," he finally said.

"No," she replied shortly.

"Temperance," Jake said, the one word filled with exasperation.

"Don't Temperance me."

"If he got to Tony he might know who you are. And if he knows that..." Jake trailed off, unable to finish the thought.

"I am not going into hiding based on a maybe. That bastard will not force me to cower in fear in my own country. You figure out for sure whether he knows anything about me and then call me. We'll go from there. For right now, my partner needs me to help him figure out this case."

There was a long pause before Jake replied, "Fine. I don't like it, but fine. This partner of yours better be as good as you say he is. I'm having a hard time holding off the powers that be from swooping in and assuming control."

"I don't care. I work with Booth. And only Booth. I refuse to have to work with someone new from your institution."

"What if I were to fly up there to work the case?"

"You know as well as I do that you would never do that."

"Yeah."

"So you'll call me when you know more?" Brennan asked.

"First thing I'll do."

"Good."

"Talk to you soon."

"Bye, Jake."


Temperance leaned back in her chair with a sigh. Glancing at the clock on her computer she realized that it was almost six o'clock in the evening. The day had flown by and she suddenly realized she was hungry in addition to being mentally exhausted. She let her gaze rest on her inbox and she briefly considered delving into the work that awaited her there but once again she shrank away from it. This case would require everything she had to give and so she turned off the lamp at her desk and walked out of her office.

She poked her head into Angela's office and saw her best friend seated in front of the computer sketching while keeping one eye on the screen where the image she had created was being run against a database of federal employees.

"Where's Booth?"

Angela jumped at the unexpected voice.

"He went back to his office. Said something about checking into the protest at the Washington Monument a couple days ago."

"He won't find anything."

"How do you know?"

"I just do."

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were operating on your gut."

"But you do know better."

"Yes. What are you doing now?"

"I was going to go for dinner and then go home."

"Really?"

"Yes, is that surprising?"

"Yes. Bren, sweetie, usually you're... forgive me for the cliché, you're like a dog with a bone when it comes to identifying remains. And from the way you reacted to my reconstruction I thought for sure that you'd be working relentlessly on this one."

"I just know where this case is going and I'm not really eager to get there."

"Why?"

"There are some things, Ange, that I can't confide. Even to you."

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Just keep doing what you do. Constancy is the most reassuring element of life."


She was frozen with fear. The music in the background had stopped, the terrified screams of the crowd fading away as they disappeared from view. Her eyes, instead of being glued to Booth as he slowly rose from his seat, were riveted on the back of the room, on the face whose stark features were burned in her memory. She watched as he brushed at the stubborn curl on his forehead that refused to be tamed and lifted the pistol simultaneously. But instead of the crack of the weapon firing, she heard only a shrill ringing.

Temperance sat up quickly as the phone rang again. She took a deep breath and attempted to erase the images of the nightmare from her mind's eye. The phone rang a third time and as she picked up the handset she glanced at the red digital alarm clock that said it was a little after 5 a.m.

"I must say, Jake, I'm impressed. You're getting closer to calling at an almost human hour."

There was a brief pause before her partner's voice came over the line with the inevitable question of, "Who's Jake?"

"Booth," Brennan said, her voice just a semitone higher in surprise. "Why are you calling so early?"

"You didn't answer my question."

"Did you expect me to?"

"Given the current trend, not really, but I was hoping that catching you when you weren't quite awake might get you to slip up."

"You should know better."

"I should."

"Now as to my question..."

"We got a match on Angela's reconstruction. You were right, he was a Federal employee. His name was Marco Gonzales and he worked as an assistant to an illegal arms trading expert at the ATF."

"Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms," Brennan translated the acronym quietly and almost laughed at the irony. Tony working at ATF. Jake must have been involved in that placement.

"Yeah," Booth said, interrupting her train of thought. Anyway, I already talked to the expert he worked for. Said he had no idea who would want to kill Gonzales, that he was a pretty quiet guy. Did his job well, no beefs with any of his co-workers. His boss did mention that Gonzales also had a wife, Alandra. But from what he had heard, they were very happy. The weird thing is, the boss seemed really eager to get off the phone with me. I was thinking maybe we could pay him a visit in person. I have a feeling there's more going on there than he's letting on."

"No," Temperance replied quickly. Too quickly. She could practically hear Booth raising an eyebrow.

"Well then what do you think we should do?" he asked, curious as to what her answer would be.

"I think we should talk to the wife," she answered.

"Why?"

"I just do."

"I thought you weren't going to give any hints."

"I'm not, I'm simply pushing you in a direction that I want to go."

"Oh really?"

"Yes."

"Ok, leaving that alone for now, when would you like to interview Mrs. Gonzales?"

"How soon can you be here?"


Booth pulled to a halt in front of the small house in the quiet suburban neighbourhood just outside of D.C. There was one large tree that was in the process of springing into leaf in the front yard. There were flowerbeds on either side of the front steps where the first tulips of the season were blooming. He got out of his FBI-issued vehicle, buttoned the top button on his suit jacket and then joined Bones on the sidewalk. Looking down at her, he realized she seemed to be slightly anxious.

"Ready?" he asked quietly.

She nodded and they strode up the front walk together towards the door, Booth's hand resting lightly on his partner's back. He rang the bell and waited. This was one of his least favourite parts of the job. Informing the family of the victim that their spouse, sibling, or child would never be coming home was heart-rending. The fact that he had had nightmares in which various individuals came to tell him that Bones had died didn't make it any easier. The sound of the bolt turning back in the lock broke his train of thought and he straightened as a petite woman opened the door. Her eyes were red-rimmed and strands of her dark curly hair had fallen out of her loose ponytail. Despite the early hour, she didn't appear surprised to see him on her doorstep.

"Yes?" she said, her voice bearing considerable traces of a Spanish accent.

"Mrs. Gonzales?"

"Yes."

"I'm Special Agent Seeley Booth," he said flashing his badge, "and this is Dr. Temperance Brennan from the Jeffersonian Institute. Would it be alright if we came in to talk to you about your husband?"

Alandra Gonzales didn't reply immediately and Booth frowned as he realized that her dark eyes were focused in surprise on his partner who in turn was giving their victim's spouse a small smile of recognition.

"Hola, Alandra," Temperance said quietly.

"Hola," she repeated quietly.

"Mrs. Gonzales?" Booth prompted, suddenly feeling as if he was standing on the outside of something huge.

"My husband is dead, Agent Booth. His boss called me about an hour ago to tell me. I didn't do it. Why do you want to talk to me?" she asked in turn, her eyes once again on his face.

"We just have some questions about your husband's behaviour the past few weeks. Had he been acting differently? Or maybe you noticed someone unusual around your home recently?" Booth probed.

"Nothing like that. My husband did nothing out of the usual the past few days. Things at his job had been stressful the past few weeks and he'd been bringing work home from the office every night for about a week and a half now, but that wasn't uncommon for him. If you would like, you can go through the things in his office. Maybe you'll find something there."

Mrs. Gonzales stepped back from the door and allowed Booth and Brennan to enter. She gestured to the second door on the right down the narrow hallway and said, "That's Marco's office."

"Thank you," Booth said with a nod and started down the hall. He stopped and turned in surprise when he realized Bones wasn't following him.

"You coming, Bones?"

"I think I'll stay here and talk with Mrs. Gonzales."

"Ok," Booth said, his internal radar screaming at him that something was definitely going on. Nonetheless, he went into Gonzales office, leaving the door ajar behind him. He heard the two women begin to converse in Spanish as he poked through the papers on the desk in the small room. He quickly realized that he would be incapable of getting much of anything out of Gonzales' study. While the papers the man had brought home from the ATF were in English, his own hand-written notes were in Spanish, and high school Spanish had been much too far away for Booth to be able to read any of it. Then again, he might be wrong, he thought as he recognised "lanzador de granada" on one page. He'd learned the words for grenade launcher during his time with the Rangers. He left the office and went back down the hall to find Bones. He'd need her to translate more of the papers before he could get any idea of whether there would be any leads in Gonzales' notes. He noticed that the conversation between the two women had become more hushed since he'd enter Marco's office.

He entered the small living room where the two women were seated on opposite-facing couches, the narrow coffee table between them. Temperance was leaning forward towards Alandra, an intense expression on her face and Booth's eyes were drawn towards her just like any other time they were in the same room together.

He barely heard Alandra say in a voice that was almost a whisper, "Sé donde ellos son."

Brennan's reaction was dramatic in contrast with the delivery of the words. Her eyes widened and her colour heightened. For a brief moment she relaxed back against the couch but then she leaned further forward and spit out several questions in succession in Spanish. Alandra answered rapidly and then the two sat in silence, almost oblivious to Booth's presence during the exchange.

"Bones?" he said quietly after they had sat there unspeaking for almost five minutes.

She turned towards him, and her expression seemed to reflect that she had forgotten he was there with her.

"Everything ok?"

Her face creased in a frown, as if the question were the most difficult that had ever been asked of her.

"Difficult to say," she finally replied. Then she stood up abruptly, Mrs. Gonzales mirroring her actions. Booth realised that they were leaving although he had not been consulted nor did he understand why.

They returned to the front steps where Booth stood back as the two women traded what he assumed were parting pleasantries in Spanish. He remained silent as he and Bones walked back to the car and got in. Instead of fastening his seatbelt immediately, he turned to watch his partner. She appeared almost shell-shocked, her gaze fastened on some unseen object in front of her.

"Bones?" he prodded gently.

She shook her head gently and then turned her cerulean gaze back on his face.

"What does 'Sé donde ellos son' mean?" he asked.

"I know where they are," she translated.

"Where who is?"

"It's not a who, it's a what," Brennan corrected.

"Where what is then?"

"I need to go back to my apartment."

"Ok, I'm getting really tired of this whole you not answering my questions thing."

"I know you are," Temperance said sympathetically.

"Any idea when it'll be over?"

"Soon."

"You're sure? I don't even have any decent leads."

"You're not going to need any. This case just got pushed in an entirely different direction."

"What do you mean?"

"Just drop me off at my apartment."

Booth frowned but buckled himself in and started the engine.

"This better damn well be worth the wait," he muttered.

"I really don't know if it is," Brennan murmured under her breath.


Booth flipped through all the channels on his TV for the fourth time but still couldn't find anything that could hold his attention. Since dropping Bones off at her apartment, he'd spent most of the day trying to work the leads he'd gotten so far. Surprisingly, the round that had been recovered from Gonzales' skull had matched bullets used in an armed robbery a few months before. Of course, the robbery was unsolved and had yielded no further clues for Booth to go on, leaving him more frustrated than before. He would be so glad when the whole damn case was over. He was broken out of his train of thought by an insistent knock on his front door.

Getting up from the couch, he opened the door to reveal the one person he had least expected to see.

"Bones," he said, slightly shocked at her appearance on his front step.

"Booth," she said shortly and stepped inside, closing the door behind her.

"I didn't expect to see you again today," he said.

"Surprise," Brennan replied with dry humour.

"What's up?" Booth finally asked, when he realized that his partner was going to need some prompting.

"You have fifteen minutes to pack and let Rebecca know you won't be able to see Parker for the next two weeks."


Huzzah for cliffies! Hope this was worth the ridiculously long wait. I promise the next chapter won't be as long in coming. But now it's your turn for input. Lemme have whatever you've got. Any kind of comment is appreciated. Drop me a line. My muse will thank you.