Hey guys! Sorry for the delay on this one...I've been moving to a new house where I go to school, so I've been back and forth a lot, plus working while I can when I'm still in town, finishing up last minute hang outs and whatnot with everyone here. But I move back to school in two days, and I usually get a lot more writing done there, go figure. Anyway, won't keep you waiting any longer...read and review!

Chapter Eight

That secret that you know
But don't know how to tell
It fucks with your honor
And it teases your head
But you know that it's good girl
Because it's running you with red

Angela had been knocking on Booth's apartment door for nearly a minute, with no answer. She paused, confused; it wasn't as though Brennan wasn't home.

She was about to pull out her cell phone to call when, spontaneously, she tried the doorknob, surprised to find it unlocked.

"Bren?" Angela called, stepping into the living room. Immediately, she clamped her lips shut, eyes falling on the living room couch, where Brennan was curled up, asleep.

Immediately, Angela's brow furrowed in concern. It was unlike Brennan to nap, particularly so late in the afternoon.

Angela moved quietly into Booth's den. "Bren?" she prodded gently. Under the thin blanket she was wrapped in, Brennan shifted slightly, but didn't wake up. Angela reached out and brushed her knuckles against Brennan's arm, repeating, "Brennan?"

Brennan scrunched up her face, her eyes fluttering open, darting around in an unfocused manner before landing on her best friend and lighting up. "Angela!" She sat up, her smile of relief wilting almost instantly. Brennan's face tightened as she took in Angela's injuries. "Oh, Ange…"

"Don't," Angela cut her off with a hug, which Brennan returned fiercely. "It's worse than it looks. I'm fine."

When Brennan drew back, Angela saw she was near tears. "God, sweetie, you really are hormonal, aren't you?"

Blinking rapidly, Brennan automatically shushed Angela, in spite of Booth's absence from the apartment. "I'm just really glad you're okay."

Angela tilted her head, her gaze softening as she gently asked, "Are you?"

Most days Angela been by to visit during the house arrest, Brennan had been as put together as ever, dressing as though she might be heading to the lab at any time. Today, though, she'd pulled her hair into a messy ponytail, her eyes were bloodshot and free of makeup, and she was still wearing the tank top and flannel shorts she slept in.

"Fine," Brennan said, predictably but unconvincingly. She slid over on the couch, curling her legs underneath her so Angela, expression doubtful, could sit down beside her.

"Really?"

The quickness with which Brennan's façade fell apart worried Angela more than anything. "I'm just…" Her voice hitched. "I'm just so tired, Ange."

"I know you are, sweetie," Angela replied softly, her heart catching.

"And I…I'm worried. All the time, I worry, and I know…I know it's almost over, but…"

"…but that just makes you worry more," Angela finished. Brennan nodded, lowering her gaze, her hands folding unconsciously over her stomach. After a silence, Angela ventured, "I bet fighting with Booth doesn't help."

At that, Brennan's head snapped up. "How'd you know?"

"He came to visit me at the hospital this morning."

Unexpectedly, fresh anger knifed through Brennan. Her eyes hardening, she muttered, "Good for him."

Even Angela was taken aback at the bitterness in Brennan's tone. She recovered quickly, though, and placed a comforting hand on Brennan's arm, saying, "Bren, it turned out he was right to keep you from going. You coming to see me because of some shoulder surgery isn't worth jail time."

"Yes, but he didn't know that's what happened," Brennan reminded her, a distressed note slipping into her voice as she continued, "You could have been dying, and he didn't let me go. I would've just been…trapped here, just…waiting to hear it from a phone call."

"Brennan," Angela's voice was firm, but her genuine worry was seeping into her tone. "It's not like you to get all hung up on hypotheticals…especially past hypotheticals that didn't happen." She paused, then tentatively suggested, "Are you sure you're not just…staying mad at Booth because, on some level, it makes it easier to keep the pregnancy from him?"

"I hate psychology," Brennan muttered dismissively.

"Yes, you've said," Angela replied with a small smile.

Brennan was frowning, though, as she continued slowly, "It wasn't just…what potentially could have happened. It's…Booth held me back, Angela. He actually blocked the door, I…it should have been my decision."

"I know," Angela agreed gently. "He was wrong, but he was trying to protect you. And when it comes to protecting you, Booth has a blind spot for everything else. You know that." Brennan bit her lip, glancing away. "Sweetie, I know why you're angry. But you need him right now." Again, Angela scrutinized the exhaustion evident in Brennan's eyes. "The trial's so close, Bren, and you…you shouldn't have to go through that alone."

Crossing her arms, Brennan seemed to curl in on herself, shrinking into the corner of the couch. Quietly, she told Angela, "I'm…trying. Not to be angry. But he…he tries to apologize and I just…" She fell silent, eyes darting to Angela, skirting over the bruising and the stitches.

She didn't say that every time Booth looked at her, his eyes full of apologies, all Brennan could think of was last night; Booth standing between her and the door, apologizing over and over even as he forcibly kept her from leaving.

It brought her right back to those moments, knowing that Angela could be dying somewhere in a hospital, the sharp, biting fear that Brennan might never see her alive again.

There was no point in mentioning that. Angela was right here, a little beat up, but she was fine. And she was right, it was ridiculous to linger on the hypotheticals.

"It's okay to be mad," Angela told her finally. "Just...don't shut him out for too long. For your own good." Angela reached out, covering Brennan's hand with hers and squeezing, such genuine concern in her eyes that Brennan felt her throat tighten. "I'm worried about you."

Brennan forced a laugh. "That seems a little backwards, Angela." She looked pointedly at Angela's injuries, at her shoulder sling.

"I'm okay," Angela assured her again. "Really." Privately, Angela wasn't sure the same could be said of Brennan. "Just…remember what I said about Booth. Okay?" Brennan nodded, but her expression was noncommittal. Suppressing a sigh, Angela added, "And I made you an appointment with my OB."

Brennan's eyebrows shot up. "You what?"

Smugly, Angela smiled. "Hodgins ran into Dr. Bano at the hospital, with another patient, so I found her and explained what's going on." Brennan started to speak, but Angela hurriedly added, "I know you don't want to go without Booth, Bren, but you really shouldn't wait. She'll just confirm the pregnancy and get you started on first trimester protocol…which you need."

"Ange, I haven't even talked to Alex, she has to go to a judge."

"The appointment's five days away, Bren, that gives you time to talk to your lawyer and have her arrange everything. I know you're seeing her tomorrow, Sweets told us."

At that reminder, Brennan groaned quietly, grimacing. "I'd forgotten about that."

She, Booth, and Sweets were all meeting with Alex at the Hoover the next day, something they'd planned with news of Sweets' subpoena had been revealed. Alex had insisted they meet collectively, hoping that between the three of them, they might be able to figure out why the prosecution was so interested in Sweets' testimony.

"Yeah, doesn't sound fun," Angela acknowledged, pulling a sympathetic face. "But, hey, at least it gets you out of here, right?" Brennan shrugged listlessly, uncaring, and more instinctual worry surged in Angela. Pressing on, she added, "And so will the doctor's appointment. I told her around noon, when Booth would still be at work, but we'll work it out to whatever the judge wants." Angela paused, waiting for Brennan to protest somehow. When no response was forthcoming, Angela asked firmly, "You are going to talk to her, right?"

"I-"

She stopped speaking abruptly, eyes swinging to the door, which opened as Booth stepped into the apartment.

"Oh," he said, stopping short at the sight of both women. "Hey."

"Hey, Booth," Angela replied. Brennan didn't answer; she was curling into the corner of the couch again, her head turned away from the door.

Angela saw Booth's brow crease in worry as he took in Brennan's appearance, but the worry quickly gave way to a hesitant, cautious expression as he moved further into the apartment, approaching the couch.

"Hey, Bones," Booth murmured softly, his voice low and intimate but uncertain as his hand lightly grazed her hair.

Brennan didn't pull away, but Angela could see her tense up, expression pained; she still wasn't looking at Booth.

"I should go ahead and take off," Angela said as casually as she could, giving Brennan's arm a reassuring squeeze before standing up.

"Already?" Brennan blurted before she could stop herself.

"Yeah, Hodgins is riding Ally around the block for her nap…she always goes to sleep in the car." Angela grinned, then grabbed Brennan and pulled her off the couch so she could hug her fiercely. "I'll call you later, alright, Sweetie?"

Brennan hugged back, hard, feeling a lump forming in her throat as it hit her all over again what could have happened. "I'm really, really glad you're alright." Over Angela's shoulder, she accidentally caught a glimpse of Booth's face, and the utter guilt etched there hurt to look at.

Quietly, Angela whispered in Brennan's ear, "You remember what I said, okay?"

Then she was gone, hugging Booth on her way out the door before leaving the two of them alone.

After a momentary silence, Booth came around the couch and sat down. "You okay?"

Brennan nodded, lowering her eyes and staring fixedly at her hands, knotted in her lap. "Fine."

"Hey…" Gently, Booth reached out across the length of the couch and lifted Brenan's chin. He could see the effort it was taking for her to hold his gaze, and Booth's chest constricted. "Can we talk?"

"I…" Brennan closed her eyes, not wanting to see the desperation in Booth's. "I just talked to Angela about everything and I just…I can't anymore. Not right now."

Defeated, Booth's shoulders slumped; he leaned forward on the couch, raking his hands through his hair. "You know I'm sorry, don't you?," he asked quietly.

"I do know that," she told him honestly.

"Alright," Booth said, standing up. "I'm gonna go change, then…Parks' soccer game is tonight…" Brennan barely nodded, but Booth felt the instinctual pull of guilt that always came when he went somewhere without her. "I could talk to Rebecca, see if he can come over for a little while after…"

"Not necessary," Brennan replied flatly. Immediately, she winced at her own brusqueness, and added, "It's a school night for him, and it'll be late…"

"Yeah, you're right."

Brennan nodded, looking away again, but Booth lingered between the living room and the bedroom, at a complete loss.

Anger he could deal with, but all the anger emanating from Brennan when she told him to get away from her last night was gone. Instead, she was simply withdrawing, her entire demeanor defeated and listless, like she'd finally been beaten down.

No matter how Booth looked at it, it was all his fault.

She'd had nearly two months of being cooped up in the apartment, kept from work, purposeless, nothing to do but worry about the coming trial and testimony; it was no surprise that was wearing Brennan down. Angela's accident had just been a final breaking point.

Booth's throat tightened, and he felt a sudden, overpowering need to say something, anything, that might coax a smile from Brennan.

For once, though, Booth had no idea how.

~(B*B)~

After Parker's soccer team had nabbed an easy 4-1 victory, Booth hung around, talking to his son, plus Rebecca and Brent. Parker immediately asked about Bones, and Booth ignored the knots in his stomach as he assured him she was just fine, but sorry she couldn't make the game.

"Mom promised we could get burgers," Parker told Booth with a grin. He turned to look at Rebecca. "Can Dad come?"

"He's welcome to," Rebecca said, raising a questioning eyebrow at Booth.

"Oh, I don't know…" Booth hesitated; he was torn between guilt over leaving Brennan alone, and the desire to avoid returning to the tense silence of the apartment.

"Dad, please?"

"Yeah, alright," Booth agreed, his son's grin triggering a genuine smile. "Just for a little while, okay?"

"Yes!" Parker pumped a fist. "Can I ride with you?"

So a few minutes later, Booth was driving behind Brent's truck to Parker's favorite burger place, his son beside him in the front seat.

"Hey, Dad?"

"Yeah, bud?"

"How long til the trial thing starts?"

"About a week and a half, Parks," Booth replied, his own throat going dry at the thought.

Parker nodded, apparently considering this. "And then Bones gets to come home, right? And she'll be able to leave the apartment again?"

Tightening his grip on the wheel, Booth cleared his throat, forcibly keeping his voice clear and unworried. "That's the plan, yeah."

"But…" Parker's brow furrowed. "She could go to jail?"

"If…if we lost, that's what would happen. But we're not going to lose, buddy, because Bones isn't guilty."

"Oh. Okay, good." Parker sat back in his seat, spinning his soccer ball in his hands. He was quiet for a moment, then began again, "Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"How come Bones had to live with that guy when she was younger?"

At that, Booth glanced away from the road briefly, blinking at his son in surprise. "How did you know that?"

"The articles you guys were in said he was Bones' foster father, and Mom said that means she had to live with him for awhile." Parker paused; when Booth didn't respond, he prompted, "So how come? Why didn't she just live with Max?"

Booth set his jaw, staring ahead at the taillights of Brent's car in front of him, unsure of how to respond. What he was thinking, though, was if Parker had now read full articles, rather than just seeing the photographs, he would have a lot more questions.

"You know, buddy, it's kind of complicated stuff…Bones' parents they…they had to go away for awhile."

"But why?" He could see the confusion on Parker's face, the utter inability to grasp the concept of parents leaving, and Booth was momentarily grateful for that.

"There were…some people after them. Some bad guys. And I think they thought Bones would be safer if they weren't with her."

"But…bad guys come after you sometimes," Parker countered, nerves slipping into his tone.

"Yeah, they do, but…it's nothing like that, buddy. I promise." Booth looked over at him managed a shaky grin. "Bones and I catch the bad guys, remember."

Parker grinned, too. "Yeah." His smile faded, slowly. "But…how come they made Bones live with him if he hurt her? And how come no one helped her? "

Booth was quiet as he pulled into the burger place. He was struck, suddenly, with the need to forget dinner and go home, to Brennan. Parker, though, had unbuckled his seat belt but made no move to get out of the car. He simply stared at Booth, patiently waiting for an answer.

"I don't know, Parks," Booth answered in a low voice. "Sometimes…" He shook his head; he didn't have an answer; at least, not one he wanted his ten year old son to hear.

Parker didn't need to hear that sometimes, horrible things happened to people who didn't deserve them. Or that sometimes people were monsters, and sometimes other people just didn't care enough. That sometimes the world was unthinkably hard and cruel.

Finally, though, Parker finished for him. "Sometimes life's not fair, right, Dad?"

It was the kind of statement kids heard all the time, usually in response to protests over bedtime, or the fact that everyone else had the brand new video game system. But Parker repeated it now in a voice heavy with understanding.

Booth touched his hand to Parker's golden, unruly curls. "Yeah, Parks. Sometimes it's not."

~(B*B)~

In spite of his renewed need to get back to the apartment, to see Brennan, Booth had promised Parker, so he dutifully followed his son out of the car and toward the restaurant.

Rebecca, though, took one look at his face and arched an eyebrow. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah, can I…can I talk to you for a second?"

"Sure," Rebecca answered, looking slightly concerned. She nodded at Brent to take Parker inside. "We'll be inside in just a sec, guys." Immediately, she turned to Booth. "What's going on?"

"Parker was…he was asking questions in the car," Booth cleared his throat, trying to focus. "He said he'd read articles?"

Rebecca sighed, her face darkening. "Yeah, he…that first morning he called you, after the arraignment, I wouldn't let him read anything. But…that stuff was everywhere, Seeley, and he got a hold of one at school."

"At school?"

"Kids know who you are, Seeley. You and Dr. Brennan. Parker loves talking about what you two do. But this…this was everywhere, and the other kids asked him about it."

Booth felt sick to his stomach at this thought. "He never said anything," he muttered, thinking about all the weekends he'd had Parker at the apartment.

"I told him he probably shouldn't say anything around Dr. Brennan," Rebecca admitted. "Some of what he asked me…"

"Like what?" Booth demanded immediately, almost aggressively.

Rebecca lifted her eyes, expression pained. "You know what those articles say, Seeley. You know they say what that man went to jail for in the first place." Booth stared at her, not getting it, and finally Rebecca sighed. "Parker came home from school with the article wanting to know what rape is."

An involuntary sound of disbelief rose from Booth's throat. "You, uh…did you tell him?"

"No, of course not, I…I didn't know what to say, Seeley, I just told him it was something really horrible and, and cruel that really hurt a person and…" She sighed, shaking her head. "Honestly, I barely remember what I said. I wasn't expecting that from him, and I wasn't exactly prepared."

"You should have told me," Booth said quietly. "I would've talked him, I…"

"I figured you two had enough to worry about," Rebecca told him, and when Booth looked at her, he was surprised by the level of sympathy in her eyes. "He's been really worried about her, you know."

Booth looked away, his throat tightening. He thought of Brennan at home, the empty, defeated look that had been in her eyes since yesterday afternoon, and, in spite of what she'd said earlier, he heard himself asking, "Do you think Parker could come by tonight? I think Bones would really like to see him…"

Rebecca glanced at her watch, expression doubtful. "It's already late, Seeley, and he's got homework…" She paused, then offered, "What about if he spends the weekend with you guys?"

Since it wasn't Booth's scheduled weekend, he could recognize the generosity of the offer. "That'd be really good. Thanks, Bec."

~(B*B)~

An hour later, Booth crept back into his house, holding a mint chocolate chip milkshake, Brennan's favorite.

He was surprised to find the apartment dark, and the living room empty. Still carrying the milkshake, he moved quietly into the bedroom, to find Brennan asleep.

Immediately, concern gripped him. It was barely ten o'clock, extremely early by Brennan's usual standards.

He thought, briefly, of waking her up, of making her listen to him. The thought of going to sleep for the second night in a row without resolving this fight made him vaguely ill.

Eventually, though, common sense won out, and Booth backed quietly out of the room, knowing that shaking Brennan awake might not put her in the best frame of mind for forgiveness.

And, anyway, he still wasn't exactly sure what he could possibly say.

So, abandoning the milkshake on the counter, Booth returned to his abandoned nighttime coping mechanism.

He left the apartment to drive. To drive until he felt calmer, to drive until the monotony of empty roads finally dulled his ability to think.

As always, it took awhile.

~(B*B)~

When, for no apparent reason, Brennan woke up around three a.m., it was with the immediate realization that she was alone.

Brennan sat up with a start, something akin to panic gripping her. She barely stopped herself from instinctively calling out for Booth, and instead pulled herself out of bed and went to the living room.

She'd left the door cracked open, just like the previous night. There was no reason for Booth to assume she wanted him to sleep somewhere else.

But the couch was empty, and so was Parker's room.

Booth wasn't home yet. And Parker's game would have been over hours ago.

This only intensified her panic, and Brennan stood in the middle of the apartment, heart hammering, fears tripping over each other.

Her first thought was that he'd finally gotten angry, at her refusal to talk about what happened, her lack of reaction to his apologies, and left. Gone to her apartment, maybe, or stay with a friend…anything to get away from her for awhile.

On the heels of that fear came an even more terrifying possibility. She thought of Angela's car accident, how it had happened so quickly…from Brennan's apartment to the lab, a ten minute drive.

Brennan felt sick and lightheaded, and her mind was assaulted with unwanted worst case scenarios. She spent a panicked few moments trying to remember the last thing she said to Booth; but they'd barely spoken since yesterday.

And last night he'd come in and said he loved her…God, she'd pretended to be asleep.

Something like a sob rounded in Brennan's throat, and she felt dangerously close to losing it, the same way she'd felt last night just before she starting fighting Booth at the door, until another memory hit her.

Waking up, in the middle of the night, all those days after the anniversary of Vincent's death, to find Booth gone. Lying awake, waiting for him to sneak quietly back into the bedroom.

He'd never said where he'd gone; once he'd revealed his fears about being like Brodsky, nothing else had seemed as important. But this much she could ascertain from the evidence: Booth had been troubled, and it had driven him out of the apartment in the middle of the night.

That sort of scenario was certainly possible after the last few days.

So Brennan forced her irrational panic back, reassuring herself with logic. And she walked calmly back to the bedroom, burrowed herself under the covers, and waited for Booth, trying to ignore the fact that she was still trembling.

It was a long, restless twenty two minutes later that Brennan heard the apartment door open and close, followed by the familiar sound of Booth's footsteps.

In spite of her own reasoning and self-assurances, a powerful wave of relief went seeping through Brennan's body at the sound, the tears that had been knotted in her throat for the past twenty minutes rising and welling in her eyes. Closing her eyes against them, Brennan turned to her side, facing the wall, waiting for him to come in.

It didn't take long for the bedroom door to open completely, then shut, and for the next few minutes she could hear Booth moving around quietly, in and out of the bathroom.

To her utmost distaste, Brennan was dangerously close to crying, so she lay perfectly still, feigning sleep and silently scolding herself, Booth's here, he's fine, you're being ridiculous.

Soon, the bed dipped slightly, and she felt the reassuring warmth that always came when Booth curled into bed beside her.

Brennan was quiet and still as she felt him bend over her, dropping a feather light kiss against her temple, but the touch sent the tears squeezing beneath her eyelids, leaving her glad for the darkness. Booth didn't withdraw right away, however; his forehead was barely touching her temple, and he lingered there for a moment, his own breathing ragged and unsteady. Brennan's throat ached with the effort of keeping silent.

Eventually, Booth rolled away, sinking onto his own side of the bed, their bodies close but not touching.

When she'd gotten a hold of herself, she attempted to maintain slow, even breaths to indicate sleep, but even she could hear the slightest tremor when she inhaled. Still, it was a full minute later that Booth spoke, quiet and uncertain, "Bones?"

That was all it took. "Where were you?" Brennan demanded harshly. In an instant she was sitting up, words spilling out with an intensity that contrasted completely with the few, dull words she'd spoken to him all day. "I woke up at three a.m, eight hours after Parker's game started, incidentally, and you were gone."

"I'm sorry," Booth replied, looking startled by the sudden movement. "I came back and you were already asleep, so-"

"…so you just left?" Brennan's voice was shaking. "Knowing I could potentially wake up and have no evidence of where you might be? After what happened with Angela-"

Understanding settled on Booth's face, and he winced. "Oh. God, Bones, I…that was stupid, of me. I'm sorry."

She shook her head, sucking in a ragged breath. "I…I thought maybe…"

"I know, I know…" he murmured soothingly, sitting up and pulling her against him, relieved when she didn't resist. "I'm sorry…"

Brennan buried her face against Booth's shoulder, forgetting, just for a moment, why she was angry, why hearing his apologies over the last day made her wince. "I love you," she mumbled against his shirt, foolishly hung up on the fact that she didn't say it to him the previous night.

Booth whispered it back, of course he did, and his arms tightened around her. But after a moment, Brennan pulled back, her gaze finding his, and she said in a low, serious voice. "I love you. More than anything. But…of everyone in my life, everyone who's always been there…" Brennan paused, struggling to find the proper words. "There's you, and then there's Angela."

Booth's heart clenched, and he threaded his fingers with Brennan's, thumb stroking her knuckles comfortingly. He said nothing, though, sensing she needed to finish.

"And if I lost either one of you…" Brennan's voice caught, her face crumpling. For a moment, Brennan looked away, fighting the urge to sink against Booth again; she needed to say this. "She is my best friend. I need you to understand that-"

"I do," Booth assured her. "I really do, Bones, and I…I know there's nothing I can say. There's no excuse, I…I made the wrong call. And I know if it had been worse, for Angela, there's…there's no way you could have forgiven me. I know that."

"If you know, then why did you stop me?" Brennan asked, her voice cracking.

"I panicked. From the second I heard what happened…I was panicking, Bones." He looked at her, helpless and imploring. "It's not an excuse. But it was in the moment and I just…I can't stand the thought of you being in jail."

"There are worst things," Brennan stated quietly, "then prison."

The pained, completely honest way Brennan said this nearly did Booth in. He nodded, "Yeah. I guess so."

He kissed her then, slow and intense, feeling as though it had been much longer than a day since he'd done so.

After a moment, the kiss deepened, but Booth reluctantly drew away, knowing there was more he had to tell her. "I am so incredibly sorry, Bones. I know I said that the whole time, but…it hurt me, so much, to do that to you, I just…I needed to believe that Ange was going to be fine. I was wrong. I know that, but I just…I need you to know that holding you back was one of the hardest things for me to do."

Brennan held his eyes and nodded. "Alright. It's okay."

Weak with relief, Booth kissed her again, softly, before stroking her hair gently and saying, "We should sleep, Bones. We've got to be up early for the thing with Sweets and Alex."

"Alright," Brennan agreed easily. This time, as they lay down, she curled against him, folding their bodies together, and Booth felt a tightness in his chest loosen for the first time since last night. "Love you," she murmured quietly.

"I love you, too, Bones" Booth replied, his voice thick with emotion. He wrapped an arm securely around her, his fingers resting against Brennan's shirt, at her midriff.

Immediately, Brennan flinched, instinctually drawing away from Booth's touch.

Booth tensed instantly, uncertainty immediately plaguing him. Had he misread Brennan's forgiveness?

In the next moment, though, Brennan shifted to her other side, pillowing her head against Booth's chest. Again he wrapped his arms around, his hand now resting against her back.

Brenna closed her eyes, drawing a steadying breath. For the first time all day, the weight of her anger had lifted, but it was quickly replaced by another weight, a burden just as persistent.

The weight of a secret.

~(B*B)~

An hour into the meeting with Sweets and Alex the next morning, everyone crammed in Sweets office was tense, frustrated, and had little to show for their efforts.

Booth and Alex were both combing through Sweets' files on Booth and Brennan over the last four years; the psychologist had protested heavily against Booth's viewing, but he'd been overruled by the need to figure out, what, exactly was motivating the subpoena.

After awhile, Brennan repeated, patiently and for the fifth or so time, "There's a flaw to this method. The prosecutor subpoenaed Sweets and the records at the same time. They had decided to make him testify before they even saw these."

Alex sighed, "You're right. But since none of you can think of anything else motivating them, we have nothing else to work with." She gave them all a pointed look; she'd asked plenty of questions that had spurned no jolts of memory.

"These aren't going to be helpful to them, anyway," Booth stated shortly. "But I could have told you that…we were always supposed to talk about our…partner interactions and all that. Not childhood trauma."

"It says here that Dr. Sweets was asked to evaluate you two again when you started dating." Alex raised her head from the file, looking at Booth. "Is it possible they want to use him to discredit your testimony?"

"I doubt it," Booth said instantly. "Sweets cleared us to continue working together, no problem."

Shaking her head, Alex shrugged, "Then I don't know where else to look. You all need to tell me…is there any information, outside of these files, that he would have had access to?"

Sweets' shoulders sagged; he was looking increasingly miserable and guilty as the meeting went on. "I don't know. I've been trying, but I can't think of anything he could have found out that is so hopeful to their case-"

"The book," Brennan said suddenly. Everyone turned to look at her. "He wouldn't have needed a warrant to access the book."

"What book are we talking about?" Alex asked.

"Sweets wrote a book about us," Booth stated flatly.

Rolling her eyes to the ceiling, Alex said dryly, "Do all of you people write books on the side?"

Sweets was frowning, now, his expression unsure. "No, it was a psychological study, not…nothing like Brennan's books." He looked guiltily at Booth and Brennan. "But I don't think there's anything in there that could be used against Dr. Brennan."

To the psychologist's relief, Brennan agreed, "Neither do I. From what I recall, it's all emotional and psychological drivel about Booth and my dynamic. Nothing useful at all."

"Well, that's a little harsh," Sweet mumbled.

"It's still a psychological analysis of you," Alex pointed out. She pinned her gaze on Sweets. "Did you write anything related to Dr. Brennan's childhood trauma?"

Feeling his face flush, Sweets looked at Brennan, speaking to her instead of Alex, "Well, I…there's some stuff in there about your parents…"

"I know, I read it," Brennan reminded him. When Sweets looked conflicted, Brennan sighed. "Go ahead, and tell her."

Nodding, Sweets finished, "It mentions her parents leaving, and the effect of their abandonment. The way trusting Booth and letting him in was such a big thing…" Cutting his eyes at Brennan, who was looking determinedly bored, Sweets hastily finished, "Anyway, it's all pretty general. And nothing about Sean Lowell…I'd never heard of him until he was killed."

"I read it, too," Booth said bluntly. "And it's nothing they aren't going to get out of any psychologist they send her to. I don't think anything Gold read in Sweets' book would justify putting him on the stand."

"Well, I'll need a copy of the book, anyway," Alex countered firmly. "Because right now it's the only thing we know of that could have given Chris Gold any information on you."

Silently, Sweets pulled a copy of his book from the shelf and handed it over to Alex.

"Great," she said, tucking it under her arm. "Now, is there anything else you can think of?" She swept her eyes around the room. "Any of you?"

Slowly, they shook their heads. Alex shrugged.

"Alright. Then I guess I'll look over this." She tapped the book under her arm, grabbing her briefcase, then met Sweets' eyes. "And if you're available tomorrow, we should go over my cross examination…as much as we can, anyway."

"Sure," Sweets agreed, and as he and Alex decided on a time to meet, Booth approached Brennan, resting his hand on the small of her back and saying in an undertone, "You alright?"

"Fine." She glanced over at the psychologist and the lawyer. "It's not the book, though, is it?"

"Doubt it," he agreed quietly. "To call a probably non-cooperative witness who's on your side…yeah, he'd need something way bigger than anything Sweets wrote in that book."

"Right."

"But that's okay," Booth added quickly. "Whatever it is…it can't be that relevant." Brennan nodded, somewhat distractedly, and Booth changed the subject. "You want me to take you back?"

"No," Brennan replied too quickly. Off Booth's look, she hastily added, "It's irrational for you to drive me when you'll just have to turn around instantly to come back for work." Sliding her eyes toward her lawyer and attempting to sound casual, Brennan added, "I'll just ask Alex."

At the sound of her name, Alex turned away from Sweets, expectant. "Ask Alex what?"

"If you could give me a ride back to the apartment," Brennan stated flatly. "I rode here with Booth, but he's got to work, and obviously I have to return to the apartment to reactivate the monitor."

"Sure," Alex agreed easily. "That's not a problem."

"Thanks." Turning back to Booth, Brennan gave his hand a light squeeze. "I'll see you tonight, alright?"

He kissed her cheek, promising quietly, "I'll be home early."

"Okay. Bye, Sweets."

Sweets waved half-heartedly, still looking guilty, and Brennan half smiled at Booth before following Alex out of the psychologist's office.

Brennan was quiet as she followed her lawyer out to the car, glad that Alex wasn't the type to feel the need to force small talk.

They'd pulled out of the Hoover's parking lot by the time Alex spoke, casually offering, "You need anything while we're out?"

Cutting her eyes at Alex, surprised, Brennan commented, "Aren't we supposed to reactivate the ankle monitor as soon as possible?"

Alex shrugged, uncaring. "Sure, but that didn't take nearly as long as it could have."

Brennan offered her a tiny, grateful smile. "Thanks, but I'm fine." She paused, hesitant. Finally, Brennan closed her eyes, inhaling slowly, and forced herself to begin, "Actually, though, I do have…a technical question. About house arrest procedure."

When Brennan didn't immediately continue, Alex nodded slightly, prompting, "Sure, go ahead."

"I know…you can get permission to have the ankle monitor turned off during meetings or…psychological evaluations, or trips to court."

"Right…."

"So, if…hypothetically, there was a perfectly valid, but non-legal reason to leave the apartment…you could arrange that."

Alex slowed to a stop at a red light, then turned and stared very deliberately at Brennan. "Are you telling me something? Because that's the sort of questions I need specifics for."

Brennan stared fixedly forward, her gaze out the windshield, trying to remind herself that it was necessary to tell her lawyer before she could even tell Booth.

"You…you're bound by confidentiality, right?"

At that, Alex's eyebrows lifted, wariness in her expression. "I am…"

Finally, Brennan spoke in a flat, unaffected voice, "I'm pregnant. I…I can't let Booth know, not until after the trial but…Angela's insisting I don't delay seeing a doctor. So she's made me an appointment with her former OB, but obviously that would require leaving the apartment." For the first time, Brennan glanced over at Alex. "I assume medical care is something the judge would sanction?"

To her credit, Alex maintained an expression of only mild surprise, saying calmly, "That shouldn't be a problem. You said she actually scheduled an appointment…?"

"For Monday. At noon, I believe," Brennan answered, determinedly matching Alex's casual tone. "But that can be readjusted."

Alex shook her head. "It shouldn't be a problem, I just have to let the judge know tomorrow, before the weekend."

"Who will know?"

"The judge will be the only one to hear specifics…I have to get his approval, just a formality for things like this. The detective and the prosecutor are always informed when house arrest is temporarily suspended, but they won't have any specifics."

"Alright," Brennan agreed, biting her lip and looking away. "But no one else. Attorney client privilege, right?"

"Yes…" Alex answered slowly, hesitating. It wasn't her place to judge Brennan for keeping this secret from Booth; after all, it wasn't hard to see why this trial wasn't the time for joyous news. Still, Alex had to tell her, "But you should know…it wouldn't hurt us. At the trial. Some extra sympathy, yet another reason the jury won't want to see you in jail-"

"No," Brennan cut her off harshly then attended. "It…it can't come out in the trial. I don't care if it's…sympathetic, I won't let you use it."

"Alright," Alex replied, tone appeasing. "That's your call."

"Good," Brennan muttered, feeling irrationally panicked.

They had arrived at Booth's apartment building, and Alex pulled up the curb. "I'll call you tomorrow when I speak to the judge, just confirm everything." She paused, then added, "They may require me to go with you."

"That's fine," Brennan replied dully, uncaring. A part of her had hoped the request would be refused. "Thank you, for the ride."

As Brennan got out of the car, Alex, reading the worry on her face, added, "Listen…you don't have to worry. I won't say anything." She smiled slightly, "I'm a defense attorney. I'm good at keeping secrets."

"Well, and if you break attorney/client privilege you run the risk of being disbarred," Brennan added mildly.

Alex smirked. "Also a good motivator…Dr. Brennan?" Immediately, her smile softened, a kind of understanding seeping into her dark eyes. "Congratulations. Really."

~(B*B)~

Though she hadn't believed a single one of Angela's psychological assertions over her anger with Booth, Brennan did find it more difficult to keep the pregnancy from Booth now that they were no longer fighting.

Ever since her conversation with Alex, as well as a subsequent phone call to Angela assuring her that Brennan had taken care of it, the baby was all Brennan could think about.

By the time Booth got home from work that night, she was nearly sick with worry, having had hours to do nothing but obsess over worst case scenarios.

She could be in prison. For the majority of her child's life.

For years, ever since she found out the truth about her parents and their disappearance, Brennan had struggled with blaming them, struggled to reconcile what they'd done. She could understand the logic behind their leaving to protect her, but that step was only necessary because they were criminals.

Now, though, Brennan could be convicted of a felony before her child was even born. Her parents, at least, had been there for fifteen years; Brennan could miss everything.

And that terrified her.

But then Booth came home, armed with takeout, and from the moment he slid onto the couch beside her, his eyes soft and warm as he kissed her hello, Brennan remembered all the reasons she'd done this for him.

And all the reasons she couldn't tell him yet.

Still, when she leaned against his shoulder on the couch, Brennan found herself biting her lip to keep herself from speaking. In that moment, she wanted to tell him so badly. She wanted to confess all the reasons the pregnancy terrified her, and she wanted to hear Booth tell her it was going to be alright.

But she couldn't. Because as soon as Booth found out, his tenuous acceptance of what she'd done would fall apart. He'd be in the detective's office as soon as possible, demanding immunity and telling the truth, confessing their secret.

So Brenan stayed quiet, keeping another secret held by necessity; though this one was only hers.

~(B*B)~

The next day, Friday, Parker arrived at the apartment after soccer practice to spend the weekend, and it was the most relaxed any of them had felt in awhile.

Parker's presence provided a constant distraction, which Brennan especially needed, particularly after the call from Alex confirming that Brennan's OB appointment had been sanctioned by the judge.

They spent Friday night watching movies Parker brought along, eating pizza and, later, popcorn. Parker kept a running commentary throughout the films, merely laughing when Brennan pointed out some flaw in the plotline's logic.

The three of them stayed up late and slept in on Saturday, waking up just before lunchtime. Booth made grilled cheese sandwiches while Brennan helped Parker set up his video game system on their television.

After lunch, Parker demanded that the three of them play Rock Band.

"What do you want to play, Bones?" Parker asked, gesturing at the different instruments. "There's two guitars and also the drum set…"

"You could always sing, Bones," Booth said teasingly, handing her the mic. "Better than Cyndi Lauper, right?"

Parker's eyes lit up at that. "Are you a good singer, Bones? Cause…" He dropped his voice and leaned toward Brennan. "Dad's kind of not."

"Hey, I heard that," Booth protested, giving his son a playful swat on the back of his head.

"You're right," Brennan mouthed at Parker behind Booth's back, making the boy giggle.

"I'll sing," Brennan agreed easily. "I've been told my voice is both technically skilled and aesthetically pleasing."

"Cool," Parker said, handing Brennan the plastic microphone before slinging the guitar strap over his own shoulder. "Dad, can you take the drums?"

"You know I can," Booth replied, flipping the drumsticks ostentatiously as he sat down on the couch, rather than the tiny plastic stool, and pulled the drum set toward him

"Oh, wait!" Brennan said, hurrying back to the bedroom. When she emerged, she was smiling, one of Booth's ties in her hands.

For a moment, he looked puzzled, but then Brennan knelt in front of him, carefully tying the tie around Booth's head, and a grin began to take over his face.

"Rock n roll fantasy camp, remember?"

"Yeah, Bones, I remember."

Parker's eyes lit up. "I want one!"

"Sure." Brennan disappeared again, and soon she was standing in front of Parker, carefully fitting a red tie around his blonde curls. Both of them were grinning, their eyes sparkling, and Booth's chest tightened, happiness swelling. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Brennan smile like that, and he reminded himself to thank Rebecca over and over again for this unscheduled weekend.

Soon, the three of them were "rocking out", laughing constantly as they worked their way through the list of songs. Brennan didn't know most of the songs, especially the recent ones, but she sang them as best she could, impressively.

Booth, though, who had a good bit of experience playing Rock Band with Parker, was doing much worse than usual. He kept taking his eyes off the screen, preferring to watch Brennan, reveling in the wide, uninhibited smile on her face.

They played the game the whole afternoon, but after awhile, Parker began to get visibly restless.

"Hey…" Brennan said casually, touching Parker's shoulder and looking from Booth to the boy. "If you two want to go the park for awhile…or maybe to the pool to swim, I can start dinner here."

Booth gave a small, grateful smile, then looked at his son, whose expression was uncertain. "What do you say, bud?"

Parker barely hesitated before shaking his head. "Nah, that's alright. I wanna stay here with Bones."

Brennan's entire face softened. She put an arm around Parker's shoulders and smiled clumsily at him. "Thanks, Parker," she said quietly.

She met Booth's eyes, warm and soft as he watched Parker and Brennan together, and suddenly Brennan's throat constricted.

Parker was an energetic ten year old boy who'd been cooped inside an apartment for over twenty-four hours, and yet he hadn't even hesitated in refusing a perfectly acceptable offer to go outside.

Parker's easy, natural kindness and compassion…that all came straight from his father, and Brennan loved both of them for it.

For a moment, Brennan's thoughts drifted to her pregnancy, the baby that would be coming, and she found herself hoping that this baby, too, would inherit those qualities from its father.

And she found herself feeling grateful that, no matter what, the baby would always have Booth.

As her eyes filled, Booth's soft smile faded slightly into a look of concern, and Brennan quickly shook her head dismissively, turning back to Parker. "You sure you aren't bored?"

Grinning, Parker told her, "No way. We can play some games and stuff after dinner. I brought Uno. And also Catchphrase."

"I don't know what that means."

"I can teach you after we eat." Parker flashed his teeth in an unmistakable charm smile, another thing he'd gotten from his dad. "And maybe we can have pie for dessert? Please?"

Brennan smiled. "Sounds like a good plan."

~(B*B)~

"Got anything for me?" Chris Gold demanded, looking from one assistant DA lackey to another.

There was just over a week until the Temperance Brennan trial began. His witnesses' testimonies were perfectly rehearsed, down to every pause and facial expression. He'd perfected a hell of an opening argument. He'd done adequate research on the defense witnesses, preparing as much as possible for his cross examinations.

He glanced from Jamie to Kyle, not expecting much this late in the game. Kyle, though, handed him a piece of paper. "You got a notice from the judge…Dr. Brennan's got a pass from house arrest Monday afternoon."

"Probably still reviewing the testimony with her lawyer," Chris muttered, setting the paper on the nearby desk.

"Not this time," Kyle countered. "Medical reasons."

At that, Chris snatched the notice back up, scanning in interest but finding no specifics.

"Is that useful?" Jamie asked uncertainly.

"Could be," Christ said neutrally. "Maybe we'll get lucky and she's seeing someone about a nervous breakdown." He glanced up, smiling dryly at Jamie. "You'll have to find out."

"How? We don't have enough to subpoena the medical records."

"No, but thanks to our handy ankle monitor system…" Chris tapped the notice, triumphant. "We know exactly when it's getting turned off." He passed the paper to Jamie. "Follow her. See what you can get me."

~(B*B)~

"You ready to go?"

Angela's face was soft under her still healing bruises, her eyebrows knitting together with concern as she watched Brennan.

"Yes," Brennan replied, barely audible. "But Alex is driving, the judge requires it…She says she'll just wait in the car, though."

"No problem," Angela answered. "Dr. Bano's doing her rounds at the hospital, and she said it's going to be totally quick, and totally discrete."

"Thank you."

Angela came a little further into the apartment, peering at Brennan's face, pale and drawn. "You okay?"

"Fine," she murmured. "I've…I've been nauseous all morning, but that's not atypical." Her eyes flitted away. "And I felt guilty…when Booth left this morning. Keeping all this from him…"

Angela hesitated, then asked carefully, "Bren, if you've changed your mind about telling him-"

"No," Brennan countered instantly. "I can't."

Before Angela could decide whether or not to question this, Brennan's phone buzzed, and her face tightened with dread.

"Come on," she said quietly. "Alex is here."

~(B*B)~

Jamie Dalton was not a fan of investigative work.

For the past two months, however, she'd become efficient at it. It was only her first year in the DA's office, which was why she'd been the one pulled off regular duties to become one of Chris Gold's assistants in the high publicized case.

She didn't mind, most of the time. This murder trial was a big deal, subject to national scrutiny, and having a connection to it would only help her career. Jamie could imagine herself, in the next few years, casually and importantly mentioning, "Yes, I worked second chair on the Temperance Brennan case." The statement was as good as accurate, anyway, and she could imagine the impressive effect it would have on much more experienced lawyers who had never had the luck to nab such a prominent case.

This morning, she'd tailed Dr. Brennan's defense attorney's car to the hospital, keeping at a distance as she watched the lawyer drop Dr. Brennan and her friend (Angela Montenegro, one of Alex's witnesses, and thus another subject of Chris Gold's research and investigation, who was looking a little worse for the wear) off at the hospital before going to park herself.

Jamie wondered, briefly, if just dropping her client off and waiting in the car was exactly in keeping with the spirit of the chaperone rule. But then, her own current stalking wasn't exactly morally sanctioned either.

Jamie parked, far away from Alex Bennett, and hurried to follow Dr. Brennan and Angela Montenegro into the hospital.

The room they went in was, luckily, close to a small nook with several chairs, a sort of mini waiting room. So Jamie, confident in her anonymity, sat there, flipping carelessly through a People magazine as she tried to determine the best way to learn what, exactly, Dr. Brennan was here for. It was curious, actually, that her FBI boyfriend hadn't come with her.

After about ten minutes, though, Angela Montenegro emerged from the room, standing outside, apparently waiting for someone.

She had to wait about five minutes before a woman in scrubs approached the door and smiled at her in greeting.

"Angela," the doctor greeted her warmly. "How are you feeling?"

Jamie stood, staring down at her cell phone and pretending to dial as she moved slightly closer, barely in earshot.

"Oh, I'm all good," Angela replied dismissively. "Just waiting for all the evidence to fade."

The doctor smiled and then nodded toward the room. "Is Dr. Brennan ready?"

"Yes…I just wanted to remind you…she doesn't want an ultrasound or anything like that yet. Not…until the father can be here."

It was all Jamie could do not to react. She continued down the corridor past Angela and the doctor, not giving them a glance.

"No problem," the doctor replied, her tone understanding. "It may be too early for an ultrasound to give us much, anyway. I'll do some bloodwork to confirm, and then we'll just have a talk about pre-natal vitamins and other first trimester protocol."

"Thanks, Dr. Bano," Angela said gratefully.

The two of them disappeared back into the examination room, as Jamie slipped, unnoticed, out of the hospital.

~(B*B)~

"You aren't going to like it," Jamie told Chris bluntly.

He and Kyle both stared at her, expectantly. "What am I not going to like?"

Jamie arched an eyebrow, enjoying the moment of her reveal in spite of herself. "Dr. Brennan's pregnant."

With a low, quiet groan, Chris rolled his eyes to the ceiling, muttering, "Of course she is."

Kyle pursed his lips, confused. "Why does that matter?"

"Because the very last thing the brave, crime solving, former abuse and rape victim foster child needed was something to become more sympathetic." Chris groaned again, rubbing a hand over his eyes. "God, Alex will probably pass out ultrasound pictures for the jury…she could be organizing an in court baby shower for all we know."

"Actually, they weren't doing an ultrasound," Jamie informed him smugly. "Probably too early."

"Not the point," Chris muttered, annoyed. "This is perfect. I mean…technically, it doesn't make a difference in the case, but they're already predisposed to liking her, and no one wants to put a mother in jail…"

Jamie and Kyle exchanged a glance, surprised by the strength of Chris' reaction to the news. "So…what do we do?" Kyle asked, tentatively.

Chris was quiet for a long time, his face set in concentration. Finally, he began speaking quietly, almost to himself. "They don't expect us to know…Alex will probably bring it up in Dr. Brennan's testimony, use the shock factor to get sympathy right before the verdict…" He clapped his hands together, definitive, then stared intently at Jamie and Kyle. "What we are going to do…is figure out a way to use it to our advantage first."

A/N: So that's all for now. Hope to have the next chapter up soon...and it starts the trial portion of this fic, and I've been really excited to write those, so I'm hoping everything will start moving pretty quickly after this. Can't wait to hear your thoughts!