I know it's short, and it took me a ridiculously long time to write, and I apologise!!!! I'm so sorry this took me so long... I had no inspiration for a long time. For everyone who stuck with me throughout this fic, thank you for reading and reviewing. A short epilogue will follow, and when I wrap up some loose ends on other fics, hopefully a sequel.

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"What if he doesn't want to help? What if doesn't recognize the medallion?" Brennan worried, pacing the loft. She was playing absentmindedly with the medallion, flipping it between her fingers.

"Bren, calm down!" Ange said from her perch on the couch. Angel sat in her arms as they both watched Bren pace. Back and forth, back and forth, like a one sided tennis match.

"Calm down?" Tempe said hysterically, her voice frighteningly high. "Calm down? How can I? I'm about to meet the man who will decide my future! What if he thinks I'm too-" She stalled, waving the medallion as she looked for the right word. Ange got there first.

"Sweetie. It's going to be fine! You are just going to ask for a favor – it's not a job interview or anything." She glanced at her watch. "Let's go, we've got a train to catch."

"Train?" Bren asked, her eyebrows scrunching together as she tilted her head in confusion.

Ange rolled her eyes. "Subway, same difference."

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They missed the subway. Sprinting onto the second floor of the Jeffersonian Institute Bren ran up to Goodman's secretary, with Ange trailing behind.

"I'm here to see Dr. Goodman. I called ahead." She panted. The secretary looked up at her from what she was writing.

"The ten-thirty?" Brennan nodded.

"It's 11:00." Brennan nodded again.

"You're late."

"Margret!" A deep male voice boomed. "Are you pestering people again? Let the girl in." Bren sighed in relief while Margret sighed in annoyance.

Walking into the office that the voice had come from, Tempe was almost shaking with nerves. She didn't know how to act around important people. The young black professor looked up at her from where he was writing on a sticky note.

"Come on in, I don't bite." He said kindly, gesturing to a chair in front of his desk. Once she was seated, he asked, "What is it that you wanted to see me about?"

Bren opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead she reached into her pocket and pulled out the medallion, placing it on the desk. Goodman leaned forward to get a better look at it. His eyes widened in surprise.

"You have my full attention now. Where did you get this??"

"Sly Keenan sent me he said that you owed him a favor and that you'd help me out." Tempe said quickly.

"Of course. What do you need?"

"I would like to finish high school here in D.C." She explained. Goodman's expression turned thoughtful.

"Where are you going to go after high school? What are you planning on doing?" He asked, genuinely curious.

"I want to become a forensic anthropologist." She murmured.

"Really? That's great! I can probably get you an internship here at the Jeffersonian if that is the career you pursue. As for a high school, that shouldn't be a problem. Do you have school records?" Goodman questioned, folding his hands in on his desk. Tempe shook her head.

"I was a foster kid and I moved around a lot."

"Ahh... well, give me a week and I can get you into one of the local high schools." He smiled. She reminds me a little of myself when I was young.

"Really?! Thank you so much!"

"My pleasure."

Tempe excused herself and ran out of the office to hug an ecstatic Angela.

"I'm in!"

"That's great! Come on, Bren, we're celebrating!" Brennan's eyebrows shot up questioningly.

"Ice cream!" Ange shrieked as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Rolling her eyes, Brennan followed Angela out the door, and into her new life.