Author's Note:

First of all thank you for your very kind reviews and interest in this story. I had said previously that I had the entire story written. That is true. However, I have decided to rewrite the latter half of the story and because of that I may not post as often as I originally intended. But I promise to start posting much more often as soon as I finish rewriting. Thanks again for reading!

The following morning the same woman who had observed Brennan and Angela at the diner watched Booth as he dropped his family off and then stopped to put gas in the Sequoia before heading to the FBI building. Hester would've known him anywhere. She didn't need to be told his name to know that he was her son. He still had the same strong chin, the same eyes, the same smile that he'd had the last time she saw him. It had been over thirty years since she had watched him walk out the front door with his father and brother on a rainy Saturday afternoon. It felt like an entire lifetime had passed. She longed to talk to him, to touch him, to prove to herself that he was real. George warned her not to but she needed to make contact with her boy.

She waited outside the building all day. Where else did she have to go? Life on the outside had moved on in the years she had been in The Facility. Cars were different, people were wearing different types of clothing, hairstyles had changed, buildings had grown taller than she remembered them. None of that mattered to her though. She took all those changes in stride, focused only on Seeley.

When he finally emerged from the stone building, some five hours after he had gone in for the day, she felt her breath catch in her throat. Before she realized that she was too close, their eyes locked. He stared at her and she thought that she saw a flicker of recognition in his eyes. Seeley took a step toward her and she ran. She turned and ran as hard as she could in the other direction. When she finally stopped to look back he was nowhere to be seen. She wondered if he had really seen her at all. Maybe it had just been a figment of her imagination. Her paranoia serving to make her think that he had seen her. Part of her wanted him to know that she was alive. But George's warning wailed in her ears and she couldn't take the chance that her boy would be hurt. Not because of her. Not again.

She had done research into her oldest son's past, under George's watchful eye. She realized that he would have acquired great powers of observation during his days as an Army Ranger and sniper. It made her fearful that he would quickly figure out that she was observing him, no matter how safe a distance she thought she was keeping. She felt safer watching Temperance. Temperance was too busy with the baby to pay close attention to her surroundings.

The next day she hadn't intended to watch them but the gardens of the Jeffersonian were beautiful and she had been drawn there. She had noticed them the mornings that she had watched Seeley arrive here with Temperance. It had been years since she had seen real flowers. Yes, there were flowers and plants at The Facility. They were carefully selected and brought in from the outside, especially at Christmas. But these were real flowers, planted years earlier and allowed to grow in their natural habitat. Hester had taken a tour of the museum, learning more about the advances in society that she had missed during her days hidden away and was now browsing the gardens outside of the Science museum. Maybe she was unconsciously hoping to see Temperance again but her decision to pursue the gardens that day had not been based on a need to watch. But as she rounded the corner from looking at a bed of white roses she had heard a voice. It was the same voice from the day before at the diner.

She stopped in her tracks as she heard the voice sing a song that she used to sing to her boys. It was an old song, a common song and Hester could quickly write it off as a coincidence. She stood still for a long time. She watched Temperance as she sat on a bench, rows of purple irises around her, almost as if they were framing the scene. Temperance swayed back and forth as she sang, her eyes focused only on the baby in her arms. The baby's eyes drifted, half lidded, as she was lolled to sleep by the sound of her mother's voice.

Hester felt a sting of guilt at watching what should have been a private moment between a mother and a daughter. She had begun to leave but when she turned she bumped into another woman. She quickly mumbled an apology and tried to walk away.

"Were you watching them?" Angela remembered the story of the mysterious woman in the cafe and wondered if this were the same lady that Brennan had seen. The one who had been watching Brennan and Christine. She decided that her friend was just being paranoid. This was a sweet, petite, older lady who couldn't possibly pose a risk to anyone, let alone to the baby.

Hester wasn't sure how to answer the lady's question. She had been watching them but it was innocent. Would this woman believe that? Luckily for her, the woman continued without waiting on her to answer.

"They're sweet, aren't they? She always said that she never wanted children but she's pure magic with her."

"Yes, I didn't mean to stare but they are quite a sight. And she has a lovely singing voice." Screwing up her courage, Hester decided to take advantage of the stranger's kindness. "That's Dr. Temperance Brennan, right?"

"Yeah, that's her, have you read her books?" Angela looked forward to telling Brennan that it was simply a fan who had been watching her with her daughter.

That seems like it would work, "Yes, I have. She's quite the excellent writer." It was a lie, works of fiction were not allowed at The Facility, not even to George. But it was a necessary lie, to lessen the suspensions of Temperance's friend. "The little girl, her father is Seeley Booth?"

Maybe Brennan did have a reason to worry. "How did you know that?" There was suspicion written on the woman's face and Hester was afraid that she had gone too far.

"I saw an article about them in a magazine."

Remembering the article and photo-shoot that Booth hadn't wanted to participate in, Angela felt more comfortable talking. It only made sense that she would know who 'the real Andy Ryan was', as the reporter had called Booth. "Yea, that's him. Do you know him?"

"In a way, yes. Thank you, I need to go." Hester patted Angela on the arm and turned to leave, walking quickly toward the exit of the garden. Angela looked after her quizzically and went to sit with Brennan.

"Hey Bren, did you see that lady watching you?"

"No, what lady?"

"She was standing right over there," Angela pointed in the direction that she had came from, "She says she knows Booth."

"It may have been the same lady that I saw yesterday. This is strange Ang."

"I'm sure it's nothing to worry about, Sweetie. She seemed perfectly nice."

Brennan scrunched up her worried face and debated with herself as to if she needed to tell Booth.

After the accidental run-in at the Jeffersonian, watching them became like a drug to Hester. She couldn't stop. Once she had told George about the conversation with the lady in the garden, he insisted he go with her on her next outing.

They sat at the very top of the bleachers facing an empty field, watching from a safe distance as a baseball game took place on a field nearby. The sun was beating down on them and the early spring day provided perfect weather for outdoor sports.

"There he is, he's behind first base coaching the players. One of them must be Parker." Hester strained her neck, attempting to figure out which of the identically clad players was her grandson.

"You have to stop this Hester."

"I'm just watching, I won't talk to them again, I promise."

Her smile captivated him and he found it impossible to tell her no. He shook his head, he never should have left The Facility with her. "Just remember Hester. If you talk to him, they'll all be in danger. He cannot know who you are."

They heard a crack as a player's bat came in contact with the ball and sent it flying deep into the outfield. Hester watched as Temperance jumped up in the stands and shouted, cheering for the player. "That has to be Parker," she watched as the boy rounded the bases, siding into home with a flourish. "Just like his dad I see." A smile spread across her face as she watched her grandson who was now standing triumphantly on home plate, wiping the excess grass stains off of his red baseball pants.

As the team gathered on the field, Parker's home run having secured the win for his teammates, Hester stood and walked closer to the fence to get a better look. Unfortunately for her, Temperance was also able to get a better look.

"Booth," his partner's desperate call caused him to break from the chaos on the field and jog over to the fence.

"What's wrong?"

"That lady, the one over there at the fence. She's been watching the game all evening, I think I've seen her before, Booth."

She was worried and that scared him. Brennan did not worry easily. As he took a look at the lady he realized he had seen her before as well, staring at him as he exited the FBI building a few days earlier. Booth took off in a dead sprint toward the couple. He ran as fast as he could but they had gotten a head start, taking off as soon as they realized that Temperance was pointing toward them as she talked to Booth. By the time he made it to the bleachers where they had been sitting, they were gone.

As Booth turned around to walk back toward the field he nearly ran right into Brennan and the baby. "Did you see her?"

"Yeah, I got a good look at her. I think I saw her before too, Bones. I was leaving work and she was standing in the street staring at me."

"She's talked to me Booth."

"What?"

"Tuesday afternoon, at the diner. She complimented Christine."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I wasn't sure it was important, I thought I was just being a paranoid new mom," she tilted her head to the side and gave him a worried look. "There's more."

"You've seen her again?"

"Well, no, but Angela did. Yesterday in the gardens, Angela spoke with her. She said she had caught her staring at Christine and me. That day in the diner Booth, she noticed my ring," Brennan held up her hand to indicate which ring she meant. "I think she said something about Hank, but when I called her on it, she said I had misunderstood."

"How would she know who gave you the ring? Who the hell is this woman?"

"And what does she want with us?" Brennan finished his thought for him.

"Dad, Bones," Parker's voice carried toward them as he ran from the field. "Did you see my home run? I won the game for us."

"We sure did, Buddy." Booth high-fived his son but inside he was wondering who else had seen the homer.

"Come on Parker let's go get some celebratory ice cream."

"Awesome Bones, I'll go get my bag."

As Parker hurried toward the dugout to retrieve his gear Booth pulled Brennan into a half hug and spoke softly so that only she could hear him, "Let's not tell him about any of this. Just forget about it for tonight, tomorrow we'll do some digging. We'll find out who this woman is, I won't let her hurt you."

"It's not me I'm worried about," Brennan said with a frown.

Booth took his daughter from Brennan's arms and watched as Parker ran back toward them, "I won't let her hurt them either. I promise."

Booth had always kept his promises to her before but he wondered if he had just made one promise that he couldn't keep.