Disclaimer: See ch. 1

Spoilers: I don't think so, but through Hero in the Hold to be safe.

A/N: Thanks so much to each and every one of you who has read and/or reviewed the past chapters. Again, I'm sorry for the wait, but real life has gotten hectic. Ah well, it's here now and ready for your reading pleasure. Enjoy!

Previously:

"I'm fine, Booth. Just thinking."

She peeled the wrap back from her bagel and took a bite.

"'Bout what?"
She blinked over at him, but his eyes were back on the road. "Nothing, really.

Just…things."

"Things, huh?"

"Things," she agreed. No way was she about to tell him that she'd just now discovered that he was the standard by which she measured all other men. No way. Because it couldn't possibly be true. No. It couldn't possibly.

"I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about."

"Are you denying that you have been actively pursuing Dr. Temperance Brennan for the time she's been here in Vermont?" Captain Westin asked the blonde man in front of him.

"No, I'm not denying that. Tempe is a beautiful, intelligent, caring woman, and we have a history. Of course I've been pursuing her."

"Are denying the fact that she refused to go on a date with you?"

Logan Hart shook his head, an infuriating grin on his face. "Tempe and I went on a couple of dates. She was just playing hard to get."

Booth rolled his eyes. Beside him, Bones bristled.

"I was not."

"I know that, Bones."

"If I'd wanted him, I'd have told him that."

"Hush, Bones."

He watched through the glass as Captain Westin leaned closer to his main suspect. "Did Dr. Brennan express reluctance to spend time with you?"

Hart nodded. "She did, but as I said, she was just playing hard to get."

"I wasn't."

"I know, Bones. Now be quiet and let me watch the rest of the interview."

Bones crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes at him.

"I've never seen the point in 'playing hard to get'. If you want someone, you should tell them. Games are just a waste of time."

Booth ignored her.

"How did that make you feel, Mr. Hart?"

That grin was really getting infuriating, Booth thought as he watched it stretch over Hart's face once more.

"I was intrigued, of course. Nothing like the chase to make the catch that much more sweet."

Booth's hands were tightened into fists inside his pockets. What he wouldn't give for ten minutes alone with this guy. Hart slouched lazily back in his chair. Scratch that, all he'd need was five.

"Her refusals didn't upset you?"

Hart cocked his head, surveying the man in front of him.

"Captain, I could have my pick of women on and around the campus. Tempe is an amusement, that's all. If I catch her, fine. If I don't, fine. No reason to be upset. Now, what is this all about, anyway?"

"Where were you yesterday afternoon between 12:30 pm and 1:30 pm?"

"How did they narrow down the timeline?" Bones asked in a whisper; as if the room they were standing in wasn't soundproof. "Was the photo time-stamped?"

Booth shook his head, his eyes not leaving the interrogation still proceeding in the room next to theirs.

"It was taken when we were on our way into the factory. I gave him the time frame."

"Ah," she said with a nod. "Good thinking, Booth."

He glanced down at her with a grin. "Don't sound so surprised, Bones."

"Oh, no, I'm not…"

"Never mind. Shhh."

The Captain was now pacing back and forth behind Hart's chair. The idiot was actually starting to look a bit intimidated.

"So, the other professors can vouch for your presence at the meeting?"

"That's correct."

Westin was quiet for a moment, scrutinizing the other man.

"What exactly am I suspected of, here, Captain?"

"A threatening photo was left for Dr. Brennan at her hotel."

Hart sat forward in his chair. "And I'm suspected of having sent it? Why on earth would I send Tempe a threat?"

"It was suggested you might have felt slighted by her continued refusals to spend time with you."

Hart's eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched. "By whom? It was that boyfriend of hers, wasn't it? The guy's got it in for me."

Booth couldn't stifle a laugh.

"You do," Bones muttered.

"Not for the reasons he thinks," Booth replied, though he knew it was a downright lie. Hart thought he was jealous. Well, damnit, he was. Only he wasn't about to admit that to Bones.

"It's him you should be looking at, you know. He's probably trying to scare her so that she'll cling to him and let him take her back to D.C."

"Ha," Bones said on a laugh. "Cling to you."

Booth rolled his eyes. It wasn't actually as far off as she would like to believe. Maybe not in this particular instance, but he could remember her clinging to him in the past; when that damn pig farmer had upset her so much; when they'd thought her brother had been killed; when he'd pulled her out of the sand after the grave digger…

"Seeley Booth has an alibi."

"Oh, yeah, what's that?"

"I'm not at liberty to discuss that with you. And I'll be the one asking the questions here."

Hart grunted his acquiescence.

"Do you have access to a camera, Mr. Hart?"

"Yes, of course."

"Would you be willing to let us take a look at it?"

Hart was silent, watching the Captain for a moment. Finally, he nodded. "Sure, why not? I have nothing to hide."

"Great. I'll send one of my men back to your house with you to collect it."

"I don't think he did it," Booth said, turning away from the window, back towards Brennan.

"Why not?"

"Well, he's a damn creep, but he looked genuinely confused as to why he was here. I don't think he knows anything."

"Me neither," Captain Westin said as he entered the room through a hall door.

"What now, then?" Bones asked.

Booth could tell that she was frustrated. She was used to having her bones in front of her, to having an active part in an investigation. There was nothing for her to do in this case, nothing for her to examine.

"I've got my guys checking for fingerprints and DNA on the photo and envelope. That should take another day or so. We looked over the security videos from the hotel, but the angles were bad. All we caught was a guy in jeans and a black hoodie crossing the foyer. The concierge says he's the guy, but we can't tell anything about him, not even his height. I've suggested some better places for cameras to the manager, but that won't help us now."

Booth put his hands on his hips and shook his head. This was frustrating. He felt so helpless standing by while these guys did what they could. Which was not enough.

"You have the kid sit down with a sketch artist?"

Westin's head tipped to the side. "We ain't got one."

Booth felt his eyebrows raise. No sketch artist. God, he really wasn't in D.C. anymore, was he?

"There's one in the next county, but he's buried in other cases. I'm sorry to say, Agent Booth, but this case really isn't top priority. Murders and rapes trump threats in my book."

"Of course," Booth said with a nod, though he felt like howling. This was Bones and she might be in danger and there was nothing he could do. He ran an unsteady hand back through his hair.

"Maybe Angela can help," Bones said.

Booth turned to look at her. Angela? Angela! Of course.

"You got your laptop with you, Bones? With the little web-cammy thingy?"

Her smiled was slow and teasing. "Yes, Booth, I have my web-cam."

"So you can set up a conference with Angela and this kid and she can give us a sketch." He rubbed his hands together. This was more like it. Him and his squints, solving crimes.

"Sure, Booth."

"I'll have him brought in," Captain Westin said. "We won't be able to use your friend's sketch in court, but it could lead us in the right direction. If this goes that far, we'll just get the kid to testify."

An hour later Booth, Temperance, and the concierge, who's name was Philip, were seated in an interrogation room at the precinct.

"You're not in trouble here, Philip, so just relax," Booth assured the young man.

Apparently he would have been their first suspect since he'd been the one to actually have the photo, but he'd been at the desk since they'd left that morning, the only one on duty. There was no way he could have left.

"Okay."

"We just want you to talk to a sketch artist. See if we can get a picture of the guy who gave you the envelope."

"Uh, sure," Philip replied with a shrug. "I'll talk to whoever."

"You got that thing set up yet, Bones?"

Temperance pressed the connect button and Angela popped up on her screen.

"Hey, Bren, what's up?"

"Are you ready to do the sketch, Ange?"

Angela held up a sketch pad and pencil to the camera. "Sure. But I have to say, this is the strangest session I've ever had with a witness."

"You don't say?" Philip remarked from across the table. "I'm supposed to talk to a computer?"

Temperance turned the computer so that Philip could see the screen. "This is Angela Montenegro of the Jeffersonian Institute. She's a forensic artist. The very best, actually."

"Oh, cut it out, Sweetie," Temperance heard her friend say, "you'll make me blush."

"Ange, this is Philip. He's one of the concierges from the hotel where I've been staying. He's the one who received the envelope."

She'd explained everything to Angela over the phone as soon as they'd decided on their course of action. Angela had been her usual concerned self, offering to fly up as soon as she could. Temperance had assured her that that was not necessary.

"Okay, uh, so how's this supposed to work?"

Temperance sat back and let Angela explain.

"You okay, Bones?" Booth asked her quietly.

She looked up at him in surprise. "Of course, why wouldn't I be?"

He shrugged. "It's a lot to deal with, having someone after you and all."

"We're not even sure someone is after me, Booth. This has been the only threat."

"I'm not taking chances with your safety, Bones."

His eyes narrowed and he scooted his chair closer to hers.

"I'm not suggesting that at all, Booth. I just mean that I'm not all that worried yet."

His face was inches from her own, his breath warm on her face. "Don't be getting too complacent about this, Bones. I want you on alert here."

"I'm always aware of my surroundings, Booth. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

"I…"

"Uh, guys? We're finished."

Bones took one more moment to glare at Booth, then she grabbed the lap top and spun it back to face her.

"Are you two arguing again?" Angela asked with a grin.

"What have you got, Angela?"

"Um, well." Angela turned her sketch pad towards the camera.

It was…a man. That was really all you could tell. It wasn't a bad sketch; far from it. There just wasn't anything remotely specific about his characteristics. Square jaw, blunt nose, wide-set eyes. No facial hair, no moles, no birth marks, hair hidden under a black hood.

"It's not much. Your witness should take some lessons on memory recall."

"Hey!"

"Sorry. I've got to go, Sweetie. I'll fax this to the precinct there right away. Sorry I couldn't be more help. Bye, everyone!" Temperance said goodbye and disconnected.

"I'm sorry I couldn't remember more about him," Philip said, his eyes on the table in front of him. "He kept his hood on the whole time and he was only there for a couple of minutes."

"Hey, you did good kid," Booth assured him, standing and placing a hand on the young man's shoulder. "Thanks for the help."

They dismissed Philip, then went in search of Captain Westin.

"So?" He asked when he saw them standing in the doorway of his office.

"We didn't get much," Booth told him. "Just a generic sketch, really. The kid couldn't remember much. Ms. Montenegro's faxing it here now."

Westin nodded.

"Any other suspects for me?"

"You sure you haven't refused anyone else lately, Bones? Because as your partner, I know that you are very fond of saying exactly what's on your mind."

They were seated across from each other in a booth at the Chinese restaurant a block from the hotel.

"I've told you, Booth, I can't think of anyone…"

Booth looked up from his moo goo gai pan to study her. "What?"

"That student of Dr. Laughlin's. I refused to let him interview me."

Booth nodded and took another bite of his food. "Good, Bones. That's good."

"Why is that good, Booth?"

"Because it gives us another avenue to pursue."

She took a few bites of her vegetable tempora.

"Aren't you going to call Captain Westin?"

Booth shrugged. "When we leave. It can wait. If I can't protect you from some amateur squint, I think I'm handing in my badge."

She smiled that smile he loved and rolled her eyes.

"So, what are we doing tomorrow?" He asked finally.

"I've got another lecture and then a book signing at the local book store."

Booth groaned and rolled his head on his shoulders. Always with the work. And if she was out and about lecturing and signing, he'd have to be too because there was no way he was letting her out of his sight until this threat had been sorted out.

"Booth, I came here to work, I'm not just going to drop everything to take out some sights with you."

"Take in, Bones. You take the sights in, not out."

"Whatever."

"Its fine, Bones. I can manage to listen to your lecture once more. And I do need to get my copy of your book signed," he told her with his best charm smile, just to get her to lighten up.

"Booth, I signed your book before I gave it to you," she said in exasperation.

He laughed, shook his head, and went back to his dinner.

Three hours later, Booth had Bones right where he wanted her, in his arms. She'd insisted that they might as well just share the bed since she knew he'd be in and out of the room checking on her all night if they didn't. He'd accepted with very little argument. It just felt so right to hold her. She was soft and warm and…Bones. God, it was better than anything he'd ever felt. Better than intercourse with other women. He didn't even want to contemplate what that particular endeavor would be like with her if just holding her affected him like this.

They'd called Captain Westin with their new suspect, and agreed that Westin would question him tomorrow morning and get back to them. They'd be busy with Bones' commitments all day. Booth had also suggested that they send the security tapes to Angela and let her look them over. Westin had agreed reluctantly, wanting to believe that if there was anything on the tapes, his guys would have caught it. But Angela had technology and skills that these guys didn't have and Booth was confident that she would find something. Bones had suggested that once the techs were done with the photo and envelope, they send those, too. Westin had looked ready to explode, but he'd given in. It was difficult, Booth knew, to say no to Bones.

She was asleep now, her soft snores bringing a smile to his face. He closed his eyes and breathed in her scent, willing his body to relax. It didn't quite work. Certain parts of him were all too aware of her pressed so nicely up against him. He sighed and gave up. If this was the price he had to pay for holding her close, he'd gladly grit his teeth and bare it.

A/N: Thanks so much for reading! I don't know why, but it seems almost every chapter of this fic so far ends with one or the other (or both) of them in bed. Huh. Anyway, don't forget to let me know what you thought!