Disclaimer: The opinions expressed by characters do not represent those of the author and are intended for entertainment purposes only. :)

July 2005

Late Friday afternoon meetings were not Caroline Julian's idea of a great way to end the week, but if she was going to have to haul over to the Hoover building, at least she could retrieve the book she had loaned Agent Booth the month prior.

Or so she thought.

"What do you mean you haven't read it yet? I gave that book to you weeks ago." Caroline was irrationally miffed that he hadn't so much as thumbed through a few pages or even read the teaser on the inside jacket panel.

"And I told you then, I'm not a novel kind of guy. I'm sorry Caroline." Spinning in his chair, he pulled the book from a stack of reference materials on his back cabinet and handed it to the prosecutor.

Her outstretched hand accepted the package but her arm didn't retract as she scolded him, "Did you even look at it? Happen to notice who the author is?"

"What would the author have to do with anything?" Booth continued to go through his e-mails.

"Some investigator you are." Caroline sassed with a pursed smirk. "Look here," she pointed to the bottom line on the cover, finally gaining his notice. "By Dr. Temperance Brennan. That was the name of that pretty bone lady who helped on that case last summer, wasn't it?"

"Uh huh." He eyed her wearily as he took back the book, resigned, curiosity winning out.

"There's a handsome FBI agent in the book," she teased with a sparkle in her eye. "Just read it."

That secured his full attention.

This time he kept the book on his desk, peering at it suspiciously from time to time for the remainder of the day. For a reason only his gut understood, he couldn't let it out of his sight now, even bringing it in to Wong Foo's for a late solitary dinner at Wong Foo's. He set the book on the counter next to him, promising himself he would only read the jacket. He refused to look the part of a lonely loser reading alone at a restaurant. His resolve persevered only until his meal was served.

Booth was getting into the third chapter when he noticed his bill sitting where he had last seen his empty plate. He decided finish just this last part before heading home for the night. He braced the book between the counter and his elbow as he reached with his other hand to his back pocket for his wallet as he continued reading, 'The first thing I noticed when he entered the room were his shiny shoes. Before he crossed my office, I had already noticed the breadth of his shoulders and strong jaw line. I looked up to the warm brown eyes and felt myself drawn in, completely attracted to the symmetry of his features…'

His eyes bugged, seeing himself instantly in the fictional FBI agent. He lost grip on everything, sending the novel and his wallet juggling. Sweet mother of…

Okay, okay, calm down. They say, write what you know. It isn't me, dummy. Caroline planted the idea. But the physical description? The shoes?! Reasonable doubt be damned, he was already convinced he was the inspiration.

He continued reading on, delving into Kathy's internalized desire to push her fictional FBI partner up against a wall. This is so hot. Scratch that, SHE is so hot. If I could take Bones up against a wall… Bad Seeley, you can't think of sex with another woman when you have a girlfriend! Tessa's smart and beautiful, too. Good thing she had the business dinner tonight. She CANNOT know this Andy character is based on me. Is he based on me? No wonder Caroline was so adamant I read this. He HAS to be based on me.

A dark thought suddenly intruded, sobering his mind. I bet she did this just so she could kill me off in her fantasies. That has to be it.

Further down the bar, cleaning glasses, Sid had been watching Booth. He had never seen him read anything more than a case file and the man had never let his bill sit untouched as long as he had tonight. The sudden fumble and subsequent staring into nothingness did zero to assuage the picture of a man unsettled.

Normally one to leave his customers alone, the agent's out of place behavior compelled him to intrude. "Hey, good book?"

"What? Oh, yeah." Booth's surprise at hearing someone address him was short lived and he blinked rapidly to rewet his eyes which had been staring into space for too long.

"Not like you to read a book here." Now Sid was just being nosy.

"Someone at work told me to read it." He stood the book vertically on the bar, studying her name on the cover and wondering how he had missed the large print earlier. "I've worked with the author a couple times," he added by way of explanation.

Sid tipped his head as he checked out the picture on the backside. "She looks boring."

Booth's eyebrows shot up in disbelief that anyone could find her less than beautiful. Recovering to play it cool, he scratched under his chin and remarked nonchalantly, "The picture doesn't really do her justice."

The barman looked him over suspiciously giving Booth time to pull cash out of his wallet and attach it to his bill.

"Tell you what," Booth suggested as he stood. "If I ever get the chance to introduce you, you can tell me what you think."

Smiling affably, he sauntered out with 'Bred to the Bone' tucked safely under his arm.

Once home, he tossed it on his bed as he went about his nightly routine. Just a few chapters before bed, he promised himself. Until I'm too tired.

Twilight was peeking through the bedroom window by the time the pages of the last chapter closed, leaving a man sitting in bed, jaw slack with unseeing, wandering eyes.

Oh shit. His gut, brain and heart battled for dominance. If I didn't know better, I would guess she fantasizes about me. But that's impossible. She'll barely speak to me! Why on God's good earth would she write THAT about ME? Okay not me, the character. But Andy HAS to be based on me! This is not fair of her to get me this hot for her when she won't see me. I really need to apologize or something so she'll talk to me again. Damn, now I'm going to fantasize about her! And about more than just that kiss!

Seriously Seeley! He mentally kicked himself and gently pounded the hard cover against his forehead. You have a smart, successful girlfriend already! Tessa's hot… though so is Bones. And apparently she wants me. No. If she wanted me, she would take my cases. Wouldn't she? I could get lost in those gorgeous eyes of hers. I really wish this picture was in color. Still wouldn't do her justice.

It was no use. His train of thought kept returning to the anthropologist, no matter how many times he consciously refocused on Tessa.

Sleep never came. Tessa found Booth sitting in his kitchen later that morning working on his second cup of coffee, studying the jacket cover and still contemplating the various ideas that had kept him up the remainder of the night.

A kiss to the cheek startled him out of his daze. He greeted her with a tired smile and a slow blink.

"You look like you've been up all night," she fretted as she pulled herself a mug from his cabinets and helped herself to coffee.

"I was. I couldn't stop reading." He rubbed his hands over his face, dumbfounded at himself and a little embarrassed for being kept up by a book, of all things.

Tessa sat next to her boyfriend and peeked over his arms to take a look at the cover. "I never had you pegged as a novel reader. You liked the book?"

"Actually, yeah." He handed the book over so she could see it better. "Murder mystery. It's a forensic anthropologist and her FBI partner solving a homicide using her science and his instinct. Really, really realistic. I don't normally read novels but," he interrupted himself with a yawn, "Caroline, you know that attorney I told you about, she forced it on me 'cuz I worked with the author once."

"Yeah, I read it, too. You know the author?" Her interest piqued. Maybe Seeley could introduce her to this Dr. Brennan.

He bobbled his head indecisively. "Maybe, sort of."

Tessa's eyebrow quirked. "Why the hesitation? You do or you don't." She laughed at the half-asleep man beside her. Giving him a pass for his sleep deprivation, she turned the book over and mischievously asked a question no man wants to be asked. "Is she as good looking as her picture?"

Booth turned the book over to see her beautiful face. "She's alright I guess." He downplayed for his girlfriend's ego. "She is the smartest person I have ever worked with though. You are smart, I get by," he teased shooting her his charm smile, "but she is a certified genius. Three doctorates. Our first case, she found and identified a miniscule bone from the victim's ear at barely a glance. Knew right where to look for the evidence based on the victim's injuries. Typical squint, but she's the best in her field."

"Impressive." The admiration in her voice was genuine.

He had to stop talking about her before Tessa began to think there was something else there. Ending the conversation on a professional note, Booth stretched high and remarked, "She really was. She has been beneficial to my career. If I could work with her every day, I would." He leaned over to give her a peck. "I'm going to hop in the shower." A cold shower.

It took exactly the length of one cold shower to decide to make amends with Bones. It took another week to draft the perfect e-mail and an additional day to settle on the subject line. Deciding on concise and professional, he finally hit send on the 'FBI Interview' email.

"Very good Mr. Addy." Brennan looked up from the three reports lain open on her desk to the uncertain face of her protégé sitting before her. "I concur with your conclusion that these remains are, in fact, those of the missing Carly sisters."

"Shall I find cause of death next?" He enjoyed the challenge that came with hyper-analyzing every anomaly.

Her gaze flicked up briefly as she signed off on each identification, unhesitatingly replying, "Not today. The execution style gunshot wounds were obvious enough even for the FBI lab. Please ready the remains for transport back to their facilities."

"Yes Dr. Brennan."

Brennan switched gears immediately upon his exit, opening her e-mail. Sighing in defeat, she began sorting the multitudes of messages.

Her publisher, originally irked at her upcoming two month disappearance, had turned the news to their favor, issuing press releases highlighting Brennan's authenticity as a scientist and anthropologist who did humanitarian work identifying victims of genocide, just like her character Kathy. This had caused exactly what the publisher had hoped for, increasing sales for 'Bred in the Bone' so-much-so that it had made its way onto the best seller's list. Since then, she had been pressed upon with hordes of requests for last minute interviews from morning news stations, radio shows and even magazines.

Every email was the same. Would she be available to meet in person? If not, could she at least answer some questions for them? And the questions never deviated either. Was the crime in the book based on an actual case? Why did she decide to write a book? Where did her inspiration come from? Who were her favorite authors? And her least favorite, who was her inspiration for the delectable Agent Andy Lister?

She massaged her hands along the sides of her face and decided the most efficient method for eliminating what she deemed to be junk, was to sort out the emails ending in dot-gov or from within the Jeffersonian and delete the rest. University and dig related emails typically went through her dot-edu account and if anything else important was accidentally included in the purge, they would have to email again. Her next step was setting up a filter so that any message including the term 'interview' would automatically be sent to her trash. At least she wouldn't have to sort through as much of that particular type of garbage when she returned.

A soft knock accompanied by "Hey sweetie," made Brennan look up at the clock.

"I'll be ready to go in just a minute Ange." She finished a quick sweep through the remaining emails and shut down her computer.

"No rush on my part. It's really cool what you're doing, but I'm going to miss having my best friend around," Angela teased pouting her lower lip. Brennan had withdrawn since the whole Pete fiasco and her friend silently agreed she needed some time away to clear her thoughts. And if she needed to be surrounded by hot, sweaty, sexy men while she did it, so be it.

"I just need to drop this paperwork off with Dr. Goodman on our way out." Brennan waved something in the air as she grabbed her satchel. Together they walked upstairs to their boss's office.

The scientist breezed into his office without knocking. Already facing the direction of his door, the archaeologist greeted the women with a stern, "Dr. Brennan," and a friendlier, "Ms. Montenegro."

"Here is the leave of absence paperwork you required Dr. Goodman." She handed him the form.

He gave it a cursory glance and signed his approval at the bottom while he scolded, "The next time you decide to go on a non-Jeffersonian sponsored expedition, I would appreciate a little more than a two-day notice." He did his best to appear authoritarian. He knew the museum's board would have his head if he lost the best forensic anthropologist in the country, leaving him little option but to approve the short term notice.

Angela puckered her lips, astonished at Brennan's lack of communication. She had been preparing the rest of them on the team over the past three weeks.

Unfortunately for Dr. Goodman, Dr. Temperance Brennan knew well enough of her importance at the Jeffersonian to strongly suspect she wouldn't be fired, and little enough of social niceties to not realize the level of rudeness she had committed in not alerting her boss. Fore Brennan, it really had to do with nothing more than her aversion to bureaucratic red tape and what she deemed to be unnecessary form-filling that prevented her from making the communication until she absolutely had to.

Uncertain as to what to say, Brennan said nothing in response and retreated out with Angela following behind.

Retracing their steps back around by the platform to trek to the parking garage, Brennan's attention was distracted by the sight of two empty examination tables with government issued coffins resting beside them. Zach was working to finish filling another coffin from a third examination table.

"One more minute, Angela," Brennan excused herself and swiped her keycard to gain access to the elevated workstation. Angela waited patiently below while the scientist gently rested a hand on each of the first two makeshift caskets, examining their contents one last time.

Zach paused in his work, noticing her appearance of reflection over the remains. Angela looked on curiously.

Realizing she was being watched by the others, she disguised her sign of respect for the dead with a reminder to her intern. "Mr. Addy, when you deliver the reports, be certain to remind them that we will be unavailable to assist them until the second week in September." She began towards the exit but spun on her heel to add, "If Agent Booth calls, don't give him any information."

Both listeners' brows furrowed. One at her use of the term 'we' and the other at the mention of a specific agent.

"I will still be available," Zach insisted. "You said yourself that my work is 'very good'. I could still help them."

"No, Zach," she corrected. "While your work has been adequate, I have always been here to answer your questions and make the final determination. You may be physically here in the lab, but I will be in a remote region of Guatemala with inconsistent communications at best. Until you receive your doctorate, I am not comfortable signing off on your work without seeing it with my own eyes first. I will see you in two months."

"Yes Dr. Brennan. Have a good trip." Her intern returned to his task at hand, disheartened, but recognizing the logic behind her decision. The last month's exercises, assisting in the identification of homicide victims had expanded his knowledgebase considerably and it was a frustration to forego the opportunity for the next two months. Now, after he took his vacation time while she was gone, it would be nothing but bone room remains for the next six weeks. Victims who had been discovered but not yet found. At least he could help some of them get out of the limbo they were in.

Brennan bounced down the stairs almost exhibiting excitement. "There. Now you may take me to the airport."

Angela chuckled at the permission given.

As they made their way to the parking garage in comfortable silence, Angela couldn't ignore the question gnawing at her since Brennan's remark back in the lab. "Why did you mention Booth sweetie? He hasn't called for you in months."

"Exactly. The longest he has gone without calling is six weeks and four days," Brennan answered without a thought as they reached Angela's car.

The artist's mouth formed a silent O and her eyebrows raised. "That was just a little specific."

"Given his history of persistence, the statistical likelihood of him calling in the near future increases with each passing day," she stated objectively.

"Uh-huh." Angela had no qualms admitting she wasn't as smart as the rest of the forensic team at the Jeffersonian, but her intuition was beginning to pick up that perhaps Brennan wasn't just running away from the whole Pete breakup thing. And now she had two months to mull it over.