Authors Note: I am bored waiting for my class and decided to give you this update. Enjoy!

Chapter 5

"Hey, Booth, why didn't I get a false name?" Brennan was looking through the two-way mirror to where the man, Elliot Spencer, sat in the interrogation room. "I mean, you got to be 'Chris Riddell', why was I just 'Temperance'?"

Booth groaned and rubbed his sore jaw and took the icepack off of his back, "Sorry Bones, I didn't think that you would want one. Next time, I'll let you introduce yourself." He seemed to be coddling a child.

"Okay," the answer seemed to suite Bones.

"Hey, I know you're back there!" Spencer was reclined in the chair, boots propped up on the table. "I have places to be, thank you."

Elliot grumbled quietly: This was not good. Not good at all. And, to top it off, his communicator was gone so no one knew where he was.

He was just getting bored when the FBI agent Seeley Booth walked through the door.

"I'd call myself Corby Flood," Bones was saying in Booth's com.

"So, Elliot Spencer, you have quite a few countries after you, including Australia. How the hell do you get Australia out for you?" (Oh how Elliot wanted to answer that one!) Booth mimicked Elliot's stance and put his hands behind his head.

"I don't know who you're talking about," he silently crossed his fingers, hoping that he could count on Hardison to take care of the problem.

"Well," Booth leaned forward and pulled pictures from his folder. One was a mug-shot from years ago: Elliot was a bit smaller and had shorter hair, but the eyes gave him away. The second picture was more recent (about four years ago) of Elliot talking with a small man. He vaguely remembered this as the day before he was beaten by McGill.

Placing each picture in front of Elliot, Booth continued, "So you don't know this man?" He tapped the mug-shot, "This one seems very familiar to me."

Elliot looked at it, "Nope."

"Okay," Booth tapped the other, "do you recognize this other man?"

Elliot lied.

"His name's Willy Carson. He died shortly after this was taken, and look," he pointed to the picture of Elliot, "it looks just like you!"

Behind the mirror, Bones was posing questions to the psychiatrist Lance Sweets. "I don't understand Booth knows the picture is him, why is he still pretending he's not Elliot Spencer?"

Sweets explained, "Booth has the man's prints running," he saw the black fingertips Spencer was showing Booth, "They'll get the truth soon enough. For now, he's just looking for some kind of reaction."

Bones looked from Sweets to Elliot, "Is he getting any?"

Sweets shook his head, "No. If he's lying he has no tell. This man must have gone through some intense psychological training."

Both observers looked back to the two in the room.

"Yes," Booth was saying, "We'll see when your prints come back." Suddenly there was a knock on the door.

When Booth came back from the door he had another file. Elliot knew they were his prints.

"Hm, isn't this interesting," Booth looked at the results and flicked a slightly anxious glance to Bones.

Elliot caught this.

"These results show that you have two names; Paul Spencer and Elliot Stewart."

"Damnit Hardison," Elliot screamed inwardly. Once he regained his composure, Elliot looked Booth in the eye, "So, I'm free to go. I'm not that Elli-whoever."

Booth chuckled, he did not like this man (and this stemmed from more than the growing bruises on his ribs.) "Not quite, your fingerprints did match those already printed to match Elliot Spencer, so let's drop the act. I already know that you have someone on the outside and they must be hacking government computers for you."

Elliot sighed and leaned forward, leaning on his elbows against the table, "Prove it."