No one else would have noticed the hesitation as Brennan opened her door, but Booth did. He added it to the list of things that just weren't making sense about his partner. Yes, there was definitely more to this dog than just the desire for company.

Booth followed her into the apartment, casually checking the place for signs of a disturbance. Her tension was raising his. Frustrated by her lack of explanation, Booth was ready to demand answers until he turned and looked at her face.

During the time he was checking the apartment, she'd unleashed the dog, allowing Ellie to sniff her new surroundings. While that was going on, Brennan had started to sort her mail.

And appeared to have frozen in the act with an unopened white envelope in her hand.

Ellie returned to sit at her feet. The dog whined nervously at Brennan's obvious distress.

Booth approached slowly. Reaching out, he took the envelope from her hand. Turning it so it faced him, he couldn't understand what about it had caused such alarm. No return address had been written in the left corner. Bones' name and address had been written in clear block letters. Nothing screamed danger.

But his partner was clearly terrified. Something he was not used to seeing. His tension level went up another notch.

Setting the envelope to the side, he grabbed Bones' arm and forced her to sit on the couch. Ellie attempted to jump next to her, but Bones stopped the motion with a single command. Instead, the dog sat and placed her head in Bones' lap.

"Tell me what's going on," Booth demanded. "And don't tell me nothing this time. I'm sick of the answer."

Brennan was quiet for several minutes. At one point, she reached up and gently began to pet the dog. Finally, she appeared to come to a decision. Getting up from the couch, she went to a drawer in the kitchen, pulling out a large envelope. While not full, it definitely had more than one sheet of paper in it.

She turned to Booth and held it out to him. "The letters started six months ago. Nothing major. Nothing I hadn't seen before. I'm a writer. There's always crazy fans."

Booth took the envelope and dumped it on a counter. More than just letters came out. There were pictures as well.

"The pictures started last week. But they were just of me. I can take care of myself, Booth." Brennan refused to let a single person upset her like this. It wasn't the first time. The pictures just made it more personal somehow, more threatening.

"I'm guessing the white envelope that came today is more of the same. Pictures, threatening letters." Brennan sighed, coming up next to Booth. She pushed some of the photos around with a finger. "I thought the dog would keep me safe."

"That's my job," Booth pointed out. Except he couldn't be with her all day, every day. He looked at the pictures as Brennan pushed them across the counter. They were of her in front of the Jeffersonian, walking down the street, entering her apartment. It was clear whoever was taking the photos knew her habits.

"You aren't here all the time," she said. Booth laughed without humor. Now she was so smart she could read minds, too. Heaven help him if that ever became the truth.

"You should have told me about this," he said coolly. But he wasn't surprised she hadn't. She'd still be explaining how important it was to be independent while fighting for her life.

"No, I shouldn't have, Booth. There was nothing to tell." The argument sounded hollow, even to her ears, but she refused to admit that Booth might be right about this one.

"Nothing to tell?" he repeated in disbelief. He held up a letter. "I'm going to kill you." He set that one down to pick up another. "You're going to die." A third one appeared in his hand. "I've been in your home. I know what you like. All those decorations are perfect murder weapons." He slammed it back to the counter. His voice had risen with each reading and Ellie didn't like it. She growled softly behind him.

Booth breathed deeply and Brennan went to settle the dog. "These letters are personal, Bones. It sounds like he's been in the apartment." He didn't turn away from the pile in front of him, waiting until she returned to his side. "And the pictures only make it worse."

"Booth," she started, but his look had her trailing off. This partner thing always seem to have changing rules she couldn't keep up with. "Booth," she tried again. "This is personal."

"Yeah, personal, I get it, Bones. Personal means you don't share it with anyone, even if your life is in danger. I could see where that would make sense logically."

She tilted her head and looked at him. Why did the agreement still feel like an argument? "That was sarcasm, wasn't it?"

Booth started to shove the papers back together. "Yes, Bones, it was sarcasm." Finally getting everything into one pile, he placed everything back into the envelope, including the unopened piece that had arrived in that day's mail. "I'm taking all of this stuff with me. And I'm coming back tonight."

"No, you aren't. You remember what happened the last time you stayed with me."

His eyes were as serious as she'd ever seen them. "I remember. Do you? I seem to recall surviving the explosion that was meant to kill you."

"Yes, you got hurt because of me. That's what I remember." Her blue eyes were pained, but she didn't turn away from him. "I won't let you get hurt again because of me. I have Ellie now. I can handle this, Booth. It's just one guy." She couldn't handle it if he was hurt again because of her. She'd survived his death once. She wasn't sure she could do it a second time.

He tucked the envelope under his arm as he opened the door. "One crazy guy is all it takes, Bones. I'll be back later. Make sure you lock up behind me."