A/N

If anyone didn't figure out the reference, the movie playing on the TV is Frank Capra's classic "It's A Wonderful Life."

Booth let out a single sob at the sight of Bones, almost losing it in relief that it wasn't Rebecca with his son. He blinked back the tears that, for a change, weren't ones of pain. He manned up, and sent a very a short prayer upstairs. He just might get out of this alive.

Max and Bones were still standing in place, transfixed by the sight of the other. Her eyes flickered to Booth, and he knew he must look like utter hell – he certainly felt like it. Her mouth worked soundlessly for a moment before producing a single word. "What…?" Words failed her again, and she wobbled on her feet. For a moment, he feared she might actually faint.

For the first time, Max looked uncertain, even rattled, but the big knife nearly touching Booth's skin never wavered. He grimaced briefly. "Well… I didn't want you to have to see this, but I suppose your being here spares me having to explain it later." He shifted the blade slightly to point. "Please close the door all the way, Joy."

She pushed the door, and it closed with a click. Booth was briefly torn between wanting her to run for help and wanting her close, but the latter won out. It took a second but hearing her birth name finally penetrated her shock.

"My name is Temperance, Temperance Brennan. Just what do you think are you doing?" She held up her chin defiantly, but the effect was spoiled by the look she gave Booth – it was plain she was deeply shaken.

Max grimaced again. "I suppose that's only fair. I think I was a good father to you, but I know that was a long time ago." He took a deep breath before answering her question. "What I'm doing is what any father would – protecting his child from danger."

She was incredulous. "From Booth?" Then, more forcefully, "Cut him loose. Now." She took a step closer…

In response Max lifted the knife up to Booth's throat. "I'm afraid I can't do that."

Booth shook his head minutely. He could feel the sting of the razor sharp blade cutting the skin ever so slightly. The only thing saving him must be Max's reluctance to let his daughter see him in the act of butchery. Bones stopped cold.

"Why are you doing this? He's my partner. I heard you tell him to look after me." Her voice was firm, insistent, but her eyes were moist and pleading.

Booth didn't see how Max could resist.

But he did.

Max sighed ruefully. His expression actually became gentle. "I don't expect you to understand for a long time, if ever, but he's a threat now and has to be dealt with."

Now she was simply angry. "Just what in hell are you talking about?" she demanded.

Booth's breath caught. He saw she'd slipped forward another half step, but it appeared Max didn't notice.

Max explained his suspicions about him, including his 'source' and Parker being threatened. As he spoke she looked at him more and more as if he were crazy. Booth shook his head behind Max as much as he could even though the renewed throbbing in his battered skull nearly took his breath away. He willed her to believe in him.

Max insisted, "I have to get to the bottom of this, and I have to send another message. They have to pay!"

Now, however, Booth could see the wheels were turning in her brain even as she gave him a look then responded to her father. "There is no way he would do that. I know him."

Max barked a laugh. "Oh, I think there's a lot about him you don't know. He's done plenty of killing in his day."

Bones nodded. "I know he was a Ranger, in Special Ops, and was certainly no angel. I'm not stupid." Booth's heart fell. He'd told her a little bit of the truth about himself, but hearing her say it, well that still hurt. She glanced at him briefly before turning back to Max. "But I have… faith… in him. He's the best man I know."

That almost made him forget the knife at his throat.

Max shook his head. "You don't understand. You can't. You're not a parent. They've got him by the balls. He's more like me than he cares to admit, and more than he wants you to know. He'd literally go to any extreme to protect his son. That's something I know. Trust me."

Bones simply considered her father for a moment in silence. Booth swore he could see the wheels suddenly stop spinning. She spoke.

"Have you considered the possibility that your source has been compromised, and that, even if he hasn't, he's being fed disinformation? What better way to flush you into the open, or, failing that, to get you to take out one of your allies yourself, doing their dirty work for them?"

Yes!!! Good girl! Booth had never been prouder of her. Who said brains on a woman weren't sexy? He nodded to the minute extent he could. If he hadn't been gagged he would've had to hide a grin.

And she'd advanced another half step, putting her almost in striking range.

Max showed the smallest sliver of uncertainty again. "That's what he said." He actually shuffled his feet, shifting and ending up a little farther from Booth. Better still, the knife backed off from his throat some.

Bones apparently sensed an opening. "I know we can all figure this out. Please remove the tape and let him speak." But she wasn't just counting on talk, either. Booth could see that she was subtly spreading her feet apart into a fighting stance, readying herself for the right moment.

If he made it through this alive, he promised to straighten out his love life once and for all. Soon. Life was just too damned short.

All too abruptly, however, Booth was reminded that Bones had to have inherited her near-genius intelligence from somewhere. It was just that, in Max's case, it showed up as devious cunning rather than book smarts…

Max shook his head. "I'm not removing the tape. I'm not going to let him use his charms on you, fill your head up with his lies. I know you have a real soft spot for him. Russ told me." He shifted position slightly, angling his body more away from Bones, and Booth got a bad feeling. Max dropped the bombshell.

"Can you believe he told me he's in love with you?"

Oh shit! The SOB fought dirty. Booth held his breath…

Bones stood dumbstruck, almost in a daze. She actually wobbled slightly as the revelation sank in. It had hit her squarely between the eyes. "I…" She looked at Booth then back to her father. "I…"

"Don't say anything you might regret," Max said softly.

"I… trust him with my life." Her eyes were now back on Booth, big and uncertain. She stood now facing him instead of her father, her stealthy approach into a fighting stance forgotten, her guard totally down.

Booth couldn't help but stare back, albeit with only one good eye. It was far too soon. It wasn't supposed to happen this way. You fucking bastard.

It had just registered that Max had shifted the knife to his left hand, when he suddenly struck again with another mindfuck…

"That trust is exactly why he is so dangerous. Did he tell you you're under surveillance?"

Booth stopped breathing again. Oh fuck…

Bones broke their connection to look at her father. "Wha-"

Max rushed, "That you're under surveillance by the FBI. Phone, email, the whole nine yards."

She looked back at Booth again – and was rocked again by the guilt she saw in his eyes before he could hide it. I didn't know, I only suspected!

"NO!!!!" he shouted into the gag, shaking his head. God damn you to Hell, Max! He wasn't going to make her paranoid, or lodge any protests, until he had some proof. This was a time when a half truth was more damaging than any lie.

Her troubled eyes slid away from his, looking neither at him nor her father as she seemed to sink in on herself.

Booth yelled into the gag, trying desperately to get her attention again, willing her to understand. She didn't meet his eyes but did take a faltering half step forward…

The predator became the prey.

Out of the corner of his eye Booth saw Max brandish the knife as a distraction – and his right hand suddenly darted into his jacket pocket, snatching out the steel baton. Booth tried to yell but Bones didn't notice it until Max had already flicked it open to strike.

She recovered faster than Booth thought possible, simultaneously spinning and lunging forward on her left foot to kick with her right, but it still seemed too slow. Her foot was just coming around, aimed at Max's exposed left gut. She might have made it anyway, but she'd overlooked the vomit on the floor. Her foot slipped just enough to ruin her balance, and she reflexively pulled the kick and flung out her arms to catch herself.

The descending baton made a sickening snap as it broke one of the bones in her left forearm. Even Max flinched at that. She gasped at the unexpected pain and almost fell. The effort to keep from falling left her defenseless just long enough for Max to use the baton one more time. It flicked out and appeared to merely tap her on the side of the head.

Stunned, though not unconscious, she did fall.

Max dropped the knife and baton and caught her in his arms, managing to somehow get behind her in the process. Booth watched in disbelief as she struggled weakly and was unable to break the old-fashioned "sleeper" hold from TV wrestling. Max grunted a couple of times with the effort of keeping her arms back while pressing the carotid on both sides of her neck to cut off oxygen to her brain. Booth's skull was proof of just how hard it was to "knock out" a person without causing real damage. Of course Max was being extra careful with his own daughter. It wasn't long before her arms and legs went limp, and her eyes fluttered closed.

Max dragged her a few feet away from the mess on the floor, and he pulled back her hair to kiss her on the forehead before gently lowering her, careful not to bump her head on the hard tile.

Booth watched through tears as Max slowly stood up and gave him an appraising look then came back, only stopping to pick up the knife.