Before my typical "Author's Note" I want to thank everyone who added me to their updates, now I hope that more of you will REVIEW!

This chapter is to celebrate the FORT WORTH TEXAS BLIZZARD! Hells yeahs!

Author's Note: This is going to be a much longer chapter. FINALLY! Our characters can come together for some fun. Old friends and new friends meet and we'll see who could win in a fight between a trained Military sniper and a skilled hitter. Enjoy the fun and REVIEW!!!

(P.S: look for a reoccurring theme here. Tell me if you get it! As always: REVIEW!!!)

Chapter 4

Leverage Hotel: 1:30 p.m.

"Elliot, I want you to keep you head low, it would be too hard to have you sneaking around the complex so you'll be at the party with us. As soon as Parker gets McGill's phone, codes and whatever else she can lift off of him, the two of you will be getting out of there to find what we need. Anything that could put the hurt on our Dear Conan McGill. Any questions?"

Elliot didn't like this plan.

Parker loved it.

Hardison was excited about the new monitor he had bought for the van so that he could play Tetris.

Broom Closet at the Precinct: 2:00 p.m.

"Found it!" Wendell rapped his knuckles on the edge of the forensic table where the poor deceased Mr. Carson lay.

"What did you find?" Dr. Brennan looked up at the computer screen. She was video chatting with Wendell as he went over the body again (they had yet to find cause of death), after having spent the better part of the morning shopping. The sales lady gave them a lot of attention when she found out that Booth and Brennan weren't a couple. Even though, Brennan noticed with mild confusion, after that she did end up spending a lot of time ogling after the agent. Booth spurred her advances, turning them back to Bones as she tried on dress after dress. Finally, she settled on a very flattering number and they went back to the prescient where she was right now, in Booth's "office". And then spent the rest of the time going over old surveillance films that Booths men had found on the hotel. They showed Elliot Spencer and Willy.

"Cause of death," Wendell was so excited he was almost shaking. "Actually, I don't know how you missed it to begin with," he chuckled, then caught Brennan's eye, "I am sorry Dr. Brennan, I did not mean to hint that you could have missed anything . . . "

Booth, who was sitting on the other side of the computer with his feet propped up on the desk, shook his head and laughed, "Stop digging Wendell."

Wendell was surprised by Booth's voice, "Yes sir Agent Booth."

Brennan's eyes never left the screen, "You were saying? Cause of death?"

"Yes, right," Wendell cleared his throat and picked up the left scapula, "while the beatings didn't help him any, what actually killed him was a gun shot." He held up the scapula to the web cam, "Here, on the anterior aspect, you can just see a scrape. I'll send you the x-rays and a close up of the area."

The pictures popped up on the laptop. "Wow," Brennan said, "I did not see that. How did you determine that was a bullet? And why were there no other scrapes?"

Wendell put down the bone just as Hodgen's stepped in front of him. "That was me; I took some swabs off of the scrape and found remnants of a bullet casing. I couldn't pull any stria or identify any caliber, but I can tell you that it was a unique mixture of metals, definitely a custom job."

As he left the screen, Angela stepped in, "And as for your second question, here's my simulation." A scene popped up on the screen. "Here is Mr. Carson," an animated Carson came into the scene. "Now the only way for the bullet to scrape the scapula and nothing else is like this." Another animated mannequin, the "bad guy", was on his knees in front of Carson, gun pressed at the bottom of his ribcage. When the gun went off, the bullet went through Carson's torso and out the top of his shoulder.

Booth had come around for this, "Wow that sucks."

"Thank you," Brenan said, "I concur; that is plausible. Continue cataloguing his injuries Wendell." With that, she logged off and shut the computer, sliding it into her bag. "That is a relief. Now we can focus on tonight."

Booth shook his head with a smirk as she all but bounded out of the office. He really doubted that her excitement over the party was due to the opportunity to gather evidence.

'Great,' he thought, 'it's the circus all over again.' He crossed his fingers and hoped that he wouldn't hurt her eye again . . . or have to throw knives at her.

McGill Ballroom: 6:17 p.m.

The room had at least two hundred people in it when Nate, with Sophie on his arm, Elliot, looking cautiously over his shoulder (yeah, he remembered this room . . . well . . . ) and a waitress that looked a lot like Parker entered, a great deal of space between them.

"Does anyone see McGill?" Nate hissed.

"All clear here," Elliot said. He intended to make another comment but was sidetracked by a familiar red-head. (Okay, any red hair he had seen that night made the hair on is neck stand up, so he didn't bring up this newest spook. Instead he turned and walked away.)

"I do," this was Parker, "but I can't get close enough, he's in a group of cops."

"Okay Parker," Nate led Sophie to the dance floor to blend in, "don't get caught hanging around; walk around until he's more alone."

A slight wine reached everyone's comms . . .

(Authors Note: yeah, I know, "Tara is with the crew now!" I don't like her so, after profuse, and tear filled apologies on both sides Sophie was welcomed back into the group with open arms even as Elliot chunked Tara out of the window. Problem solved. And now after that brief interlude . . . ON WITH THE SHOW!)

"Elliot?" One of the women at the party paused in her conversation and turned to face Elliot, who was doing his best to stay hidden. "Elliot Spencer? Is that you?" The woman's smile was big and bright and her red curls were piled up onto her head. She had slimmed down some in the years since Elliot had last seen her but he recognized her in an instant. "Remember, it's me, MaryLee."

"Elliot?" Nate's voice was loud in the hitter's ear, "What is going on?"

"We got trouble," he hissed before MaryLee caught him. Seeing he couldn't escape, he turned to her and looked surprised, "Oh my God!" He laughed, "MaryLee, I haven't seen you in –"

"Four years," she blushed and scratched her head, "yeah, when Daddy dragged you out of my room. Sorry about that, how's your hand?"

Hardison already had MaryLee McGill's bio pulled up in the van. "Man, Elliot, she is hott. Way to go boy!"

"Hardison, you aren't helping," Sophie was watching Elliot and the woman and had to agree that she was lovely.

"Okay, Elliot, see if she knows anything, and be subtle." Nate refused a glass of champagne (earning an appreciative nod from Sophie) from a Parker/waitress and took a glass of water.

Elliot, after a fervid glance around for "Daddy Dearest", took two champagne glasses from the Parker/waitress and handed one to the woman, "I've recovered. How did you get off?"

Across the room, actually, right next to Nate but completely absorbed in his own conversation with the beautiful woman on his arm, was Agent Seeley Booth. "Listen Bones, over half of the people in her work directly for McGill and because he's the one who's footing the bill for this party, we want to be sure to stay on their good sides. You remember the faces we are looking for?"

Bones, looking smashing in her clingy violet dress, nodded and looked around. "Elliot Spencer, right?"

"Yes. Thank you," Booth took the glass of champagne the cute blonde waitress offered him. "Why?"

"Because he's right there," Bones pointed after the blonde who was passing drinks to a red-headed woman and a ruggedly handsome man whose, though his back was to her, stance and posture matched that which she had seen in the surveillance footage. "That's him."

Booth quickly sat down his glass, "Are you serious? Wow, you're quick."

"It was easy really; I noticed on the footage that he had a hip injury on his left side that was a few years old, add four years to that and it would have healed to –"

"That's nice Bones," Booth motioned for Bones to stay still and bean walking toward Spencer, attempting to make the move nonchalant. After a quick glance to confirm that it was indeed Elliot Spencer, he bumped into his shoulder. "Wow man, I am so sorry."

Elliot was cut off midsentence and looked at the man; he didn't' recognize him but something about his demeanor had him on edge. (A feeling he couldn't relate to the others due to the nearness of the two around him.)

"The name's Chris Riddell, how are you?" Booth smiled kindly, "I left my glasses at home and my depth perception isn't that good. Ha ha. I've been bumping into people all night." He shook this "Spencer's" hand and motioned to Bones, "This is my date Temperance. What is your name?"

Elliot kissed the offered Temperence's hand and replied that his name was Paul Stewart.

With only a subtle surprised glance to Elliot, MaryLee introduced herself, determined to keep his secret.

That glance was enough to key off both Bones and Booth.

"I hear the end of the hallway has a phenomenal view of the land, have you seen it?"

"Go with it Elliot," Nate instructed.

"No, I haven't, should we go see?"

"Sure," Booth knew he was up to something but passed Bones to the young MaryLee, "Why don't we leave our women folk." Booth and Bones shared a glance before the two men walked out of the ballroom together.

"You're going to have to take him out," Nate's voice shocked Elliot a moment.

"I know."

"What did you say, Paul?" Booth held the door open and was glad that no one was in the hall.

"I said," Elliot steeled himself for the fight he felt coming, "I know how beautiful the land is in this state, I was born here." Before he could blink, he was on the ground and Booth had his hands behind his back, "Elliot Spencer, right? You are under arrest for the murder of – UUUUUGGGHHHFFFFF."

"What do you want with me?" Elliot had rolled to his back and kicked off the attacker.

"The murder of Willy Carson four years ago," Booth grunted, rubbing his chest where Elliot had just kicked him.

"What?" Elliot was stunned just long enough for Booth to charge, grabbing him around the waist and propelling him back into the wall.

"FBI," Booth reached into his jacket for his badge. "Damnit," he growled when he realized it wasn't there. This caused just enough hesitation for Elliot to regain his balance and toss Booth into a rather expensive table.

"He's FBI," Parker reported, "Agent Seeley Booth," she paused and sighed, "Seeley, that's an attractive name."

"Parker," Nate warned, "he's here for a reason and Elliot just went out with him. Hardison."

"I'm on it, boss."

"FBI?" Elliot was panting at this point; at least comforted by the fact that Booth was out of breath too. "Why do you think I killed Willy?"

"Um, Elliot," Hardison's voice broke into the conversation, "I hate to tell you this, but Agent Booth there was one of the one's after you years ago; I just accessed his past cases. Now he's on the case of Willy Carson."

"Yeah, I kinda figured that out myself." Booth had Elliot in a chokehold.

"Who are you talking to?"

"Do you need help there?" Nate asked.

"Nope, I got this."

"Ah," Booth found the communicator and pulled it out. "Looks you have some partners in there."

"You leave them out of this," Elliot got lose and the two faced off.

After a moment to catch his breath, Booth recovered enough to say, "I have partners too, either you come with me now or I swear I will find your friends and they will be charged with accessory to murder after the fact."

"Damnit," Elliot took a moment to consider the offer. The agent could have been bluffing, but if he wasn't the entire team would go down. It would be much easier to find another hitter than it would be to find an entire crew of thieves who wanted to help the less fortunate. "Leave them alone," he put his hands behind his head, "take me and leave them alone. But I'll tell you now, you have the wrong guy."

"Oh, really," Booth was glad that Elliot hadn't called his bluff. "Then who should I be looking at?" He really didn't care, was just making small talk; he remembered that just a week ago he had easily taken out four Air Force One guards singlehandedly and hadn't even broken a sweat. This man was tough and knew how to fight, a trait that Booth almost admired.

"Booth, did you win?" Elliot saw Booth's date Temperance step out into the hall, MaryLee wasn't with her.

"Yes, Bones, let's get him back to the station," Booth had the perp handcuffed and began steering him toward the outside of the house.

"Going so soon Agent Booth?" Elliot's heart froze as he heard the voice. Parker squeaked (she was standing behind him before she ran off to report to Nate that Elliot had been arrested). The voice came from none other than Conan McGill.

"Yeah, we're just investigating a murder from four years ago," Booth shook Elliot's handcuffs. "Looks like we got our guy so we've gotta go."

"Hrmph, no good murders runnin' lose in my town. Just the thought of it makes me sick." Something about the man that the agent had arrested looked familiar to McGill, but he couldn't place it. "Well, you gotta do your job, FBI and all. Thank you so much for doing your part to protect our city." He shook Booth's hand before adjourning into the ballroom.

"I don't like him," Brennan whispered to Booth.

"Ha, you have no idea," no one heard Elliot.

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