Author's Note: Here's the second outtake! Thanks for reviewing the first one and following this story as well! You all rock!

Setting: Irrelevant, except for Sweets' presence. Surprise there.

"Kind-Hearted"
Sympathetic, friendly, gentle, tenderhearted, and generous, but with a more personal sentiment, as though you are very close to the person you are describing.

It had been a long day. Booth had chased two men down alleys after a mile hike to the crime scene. That added to his sleepless night and he was physically spent, and when he was tired and hungry, he tended to get a little testy. Interrogating a suspect who gets a kick out of playing games was the final straw.

The remains of Julian Peterson, a seven year old boy, had been found by a pair of campers a mile from the nearby campgrounds. His sister, the four year old Lily Peterson, was missing. The parents had last seen both children speaking to one of the campground's groundskeepers.

He and Brennan tried for almost two hours to get something helpful out of him. His gut told him the groundskeeper, Simon Bakken, was guilty. It was all over his smug smile, evident by how he sat back in the chair, arms crossed over his chest. He was as cocky as to waive his right to an attorney.

In this situation, Booth knew that anything he did would only fuel the man's fire. Cordiality was becoming a challenge for Booth, which Simon picked up on. Anger would only make the man laugh, but he was losing the battle to remain calm. He was tired, emotionally and physically, damnit. The involvement of children only made it worse.

"Look, it would be easier if you're straight with us. There's a little girl missing, a girl afraid of the dark who can't sleep without a night-light," Booth tried. Anything to get Simon to give up a clue about the girl's location, even if it meant painting disturbing pictures.

The son of a bitch chuckled, "It does get awfully dark in the woods. Sorry I can't do anything to help."

Booth slammed his hands flat on the metal table. There was a girl out there on her own and the smug piece of scum laughs. He had to start pacing before he punched anyone.

Brennan quickly caught onto his anger and stood from her chair. Catching his eye, she placed her hand on his arm, silently telling him to leave. It took time for the warmth of her touch to calm him, but she eventually saw his jaw loosen and sadness pass over his features instead of anger. She had to be the cold one. As she led Booth out, she turned towards the suspect and sternly warned him. "I'll be right back."

A defeated Booth joined Sweets in the adjoining room. Brennan turned to leave, but Booth grabbed her arm and spun her around. "You're not going in there alone." His words came out more as a plea than a command. He wanted to protect her, to keep the man in there from getting any form of satisfaction from being alone with a beautiful woman. His eyes highlighted his desperation.

She and Sweets disagreed with Booth. The smile Simon had on his face when she rejoined him made Booth sick, but she was able to compartmentalize. She asked him a mundane question she already knew the answer to—a learned interrogation technique. "How much do you weigh, Mr. Bakken?"

Simon smiled and leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table. "Not as much as your partner, but what I lack in some areas, I do not lack in others." Brennan caught the meaning of his words, but chose not to reply. In turn, Simon continued talking. "I had a girl, once. Treated her right. She was fairly pretty, though not as much as you. However, she was weak like you, needed someone big and strong to take care of her, like me or your partner."

Brennan once again ignored his comments to keep him talking, something else she had picked up from the men on the other side of the glass. But, the comments did not completely go unnoticed.

"See, we're a lot alike, me and Special Agent Booth. We both like pretty women and clearly have a temper. But do you know the difference? I would never harm an innocent child."

Brennan stood from her chair and leaned over the table, her palms supporting her weight. "Booth is not a monster. He does not violently murder and dismember children, like you did to Julian Peterson. He would never kidnap an innocent little girl and do who knows what to her. That man, my partner, is the most kind-hearted man I've ever known. You know the real difference? He's the man you are not. He is doing everything he possibly can to save a child while you sit here and puff out your hairs to try and look like a man."

In the other room, Brennan's words did not escape Booth. He knew that she would never use an anatomically incorrect adjective if she did not mean it. The sentiment warmed his kind heart and made him gulp at the underlying serious implications. A small smirk played on his lips, greatened when she got another idiom wrong.

When she came busting into the room, clearly frustrated herself, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and led her straight to the elevators. "What about some pie, Bones? My treat." His voice was light to distract her. He knew what she needed, as always, and even though he wasn't hungry and was in a fowl mood himself, he would attempt to get her to eat pie and cheer her up.

Brennan ignored the offer. "There is a small girl missing and he thinks it's funny."

"I know," Booth agreed, pulling her closer to him. "And we'll find her." Their eyes met as they entered the elevator. Like he had done earlier, she relaxed with his closeness. "I promise," he gently concluded, and she nodded.

They were partners, best friends, and yet so much more; they were exactly what the other needed.